Worst. Day. Ever.

So yesterday I was ordered to finish my MPO (Municipal Police Officer Training). The last class was Use of Force, and Tactical Use Of Force.

Since the pandemic, the department made sure classes were smaller and quicker, so no one dies from the Chinese Wuhan Virus. Apparently that didn’t apply to my last classes. Use of Force was boring as hell, and afterward we had to do four simulations for street situations. Since we had forty – FORTY – people in the class, the instruction lasted nearly four hours.

People were grumbling, because there was no reason to keep this training so long. Worse still, the instructors said the second class was going to be two hours late, because they wanted to go to lunch. Two classes which should have ended by noon actually ended at 2:45pm. I had told Kevin I would pick him up at school – he’s a high schooler now – and as I was driving to the school, something broke on the Jeep.

Something bad…

Continue reading “Worst. Day. Ever.”

A Hopefully Minor Setback

For those of you who have been here since 2015, you may remember by two-year bout with depression. It was arguably one of the worst times of my life, but I eventually got through it.

Occasionally, I would have a bad day, but it was never really a problem. At least not until Sunday.

You see, the stress at work is getting worse and worse. On top of that, there are a few things at home which are also stress-inducing. We need a few repairs – not big ones, but ones we put off – which adds to the stress. The latest was a decorative shutter on the top floor flew off during high winds. I wanted to try and put if back on the siding, but it’s a good thirty feet from the ground, and I do not like ladders. At all.

I figured I would go to Lowe’s and find latches to reattach it to the third floor. I looked around and found nothing for this type of shutter. Then I asked an employee who looked at me like I was a Martian. Then it happened.

I think all the stress of the last few months finally broke me. The employee walked away, and I took a knee and started crying in the aisle. I don’t know why this broke me – maybe because I knew I would never be able to fix the shutter – so I went home, climbed into bed and started crying again.

A few hours later, Mrs. Earp came home from work and I told her about the breakdown. I wasn’t really in my right mind, but when she asked if I still had my meds from the previous depression, I said, “Yeah, I think so.”

There are still about thirty Zoloft pills from my prescription, so I took one yesterday. I’ll take one a day for two weeks, and hopefully that will help things along. I don’t have depression again – it’s nowhere near as bad as it was seven years ago – but I think the meds will help for now.

Also, if you know someone who has depression, ask them how they’re doing. It’s a terrible disease.

Feelin’ Alright…

Thursday was a pretty important day.

My day started with an appointment with my optometrist, and you may remember a month ago when I posted about my original eye exam. The doctor said I had pressure building in my right eye, and I needed to come back for another exam. The doctor said the pressure may lead to glaucoma, and I have been freaking out about it ever since.

Anyway, I arrived at the optometrist, they put me through a few tests, dropped some drops into my eyes, took photos of the inside of the eyes, and checked the pressure of the right eye. The pressure number was 22 during the first exam, and Thursday’s number was 20, which was good news. The cornea still looks okay, and while the optometrist will monitor the pressure, it looks like I’ll be okay for the time being…

Continue reading “Feelin’ Alright…”

The Eyes Had It

So yesterday Kevin and I had our yearly optometrist appointments. Our eye doctor is great; always has a smile on his face, is very patient, and is brilliant at what he does. Kevin and I were the only patients early yesterday morning, so we didn’t have to wait. The doctor took me in first, with Kevin being examined shortly thereafter.

The doc dilated our eyes, and had us come in after a few minutes. The doctor examined my dilated eyes, checked his chart, and made a “Hmm” sound. A few years ago, I had some pressure in my right eye, and I usually take an extra test to make sure things are okay. When the doctor looked at my eye again, he stopped, and said, “You have some pressure in the right eye. Having looked at it, I want you to come back in a month for more tests.”

Before I could ask what the problem was, he replied, “I think this may be glaucoma.”

So I’m looking at glaucoma in my early fifties. Awesome.

I obviously trust my doctor, and my mother-in-law had something similar, stating the surgeon who worked on her eyes was terrific. That said, I have always been manic about my eyes, and I always imagine the worst when it comes to my health. I really don’t want to lose my sight, and I certainly don’t want to lose it in my fifties. Not that it will come to that, but from what I’ve been reading, it seems like glaucoma and blindness are often hand in hand.

So, I’ll likely stress myself out until next month, and hope the glaucoma scare is just that: a scare.

What The Hell Is Going On?

Okay, I realize I have been beating my shoulder injury to death – maybe that’s why it still hurts – but yesterday, the issue with my soon-to-be-ex-surgeon got a little weird. Since I caught the Chinese Wuhan Virus, I have been jogging or cycling every single day. Because my knees are terrible, I have been biking ten miles a day.

When I am cycling, I usually have one ear bud in to listen to music, podcasts, whatever. I was about six miles in when the phone rang. I looked at the phone and noticed it was the office of my shoulder surgeon. I ignored the call.

For those of you who don’t remember, on March 8th, the surgeon promised he would give me a status update in one week (March 15th). I waited patiently, not wanting to be a bother, then Covid kicked in. Three weeks at home, and not one return call from the surgeon’s office. When I saw my primary, I told him I would find a new surgeon.

The surgery scheduler left a voice mail, which I ignored until I got home, and said she wanted to schedule me for an appointment.


I considering calling back, but I knew deep down I would have throttled her over the phone. Instead, I fought fire with fire and ignored the call. It took them nearly three months to call me, there was no status update, and no apology. But this chick wanted me to give them more money for another useless appointment? Get bent!

Ironically, the physical therapist called moments after the surgeon’s office left the voice mail. I begin PT on Thursday, and when the shoulder gets a little stronger, I can look for another surgeon. I’ll probably wait until the fall, because summer vacations are almost here, and the division will have less detectives than normal.

The Proof Is In The Pudding

So, I received an email from Taminator Friday night, and he wanted me to know one of our regulars is having a few medical issues. (No, I don’t mean the rampant idiocy which comes with this blog.) Mike AKA Proof has been having heart trouble, and it looks like me may need a valve replacement.

Honestly, I could get this done in fifteen minutes with a PVC pipe and a blowtorch, but whatever.

I didn’t see the post right away, because between blogging, work, my 47 kids, and the ongoing dementia, it’s difficult to read every blog every day. That’s on me. I do want to let everyone know Proof needs our prayers, and you can read his post by clicking here.

Mike’s been a regular here for years, but apparently he forgot the only person in these parts who can have serious medical issues are me… and probably Amy Schumer.

Good luck, Mike. Hope you’re back to good health very soon.

A Health Update

Well, it seems Mrs. Earp and I are over the Chinese Wuhan Virus. She’s worse off than I am, since she’s still recovering from pneumonia, but for the most part everything is getting back to normal.

Mrs. Earp started short walks yesterday and it wasn’t easy. I have been cycling about five miles a day every day for a week now. I’m nowhere near my peak conditioning, and I’m exhausted after five miles, when I was breezing through ten miles in the summer. I understand it’s a process, and the fact I lost nearly twenty pounds is a blessing and a curse. It’s nice to be skinnier, but losing the endurance stinks.

I’m scheduled to go back to work Tuesday morning, where I am sure there will be a six-foot pile of work waiting for me, and the new computer system for entering jobs debuted while I was sick. So the first week or two should be a cluster.

Oh, the shoulder surgeon effectively started ignoring me. They told me on March 8th that if the insurance didn’t clear the surgeon I was dealing with, they would give me a surgeon in our network. They promised to contact me on March 15th. They never called back. I tracked down the jackasses at the insurance, and they told me I need physical therapy first, even though the surgeon said surgery is the better option because of the damage.

So, I intend to see my primary doctor, ask him to set me up with physical therapy, and find me another surgeon. I am not dealing with those people anymore.

The good news is when I get back to work, I should have plenty of True Detective Stories for you soon.

A Death Watch Update

Okay, that title is probably a little too overdramatic, but there is news from the home front. First of all, Mrs. Earp is getting better. The pneumonia is subsiding, and while she’s still sick from the Chinese Wuhan Virus, it looks like the worst is quickly passing.

None of the kids have caught it – thank God – and I am almost completely through the virus. I have zero energy, zero desire to eat – everything tastes terrible – and I’m down almost twenty pounds. I was hovering around 197 right before I caught this man-made disease, and as of yesterday I was sitting at 181.

Since Mrs. Earp is so messed up, I have to do most things – making dinner, laundry, cleaning, disinfecting, etc. – which is fine, but it really runs me down. I went shopping for a few things Saturday, and I was having trouble picking up a 12-pack of soda with one hand. I feel like I did after surgeries: weak and useless. The nurse said I needed to start walking to get my endurance up and yesterday it took me 18 minutes to go a mile. This blows.

Speaking of things which blow, the surgeon has not contacted me since March 8th. I’m thinking about dumping these people and asking my primary to give me a surgeon who will actually do the shoulder surgery. Not that it’ll happen for a while because the city’s protocols mean I cannot go back to work until April 18th.

I’ll probably wait until summer to get the surgery, since I’ve been out so long with the Covid.

Oh, thanks to Gary Moore, who found a link which takes you to the classic editor. I was seriously thinking about dumping the blog, because the new WordPress system is awful. Now I can continue going on.

My Family Is Cursed

Yesterday the nurse came to the house to check up on my vitals and everything else Chinese Wuhan Virus. It took about an hour, and the nurse seemed to think I was in decent shape. The only thing I disagreed with was when she said she wanted me to quarantine for two weeks. The city will never let that happen, but I’ll do my best.

A few hours later, Mrs. Earp was suffering from a hacking cough. She’s had it for a few days and she asked me if she should go to the hospital. Obviously, I said yes, even though she dismissed it. Kyle drove her to Holy Redeemer, and came back afterward. There are no visitors allowed inside.

At 9pm, Mrs. Earp sent me a text saying she tested positive for Covid, had an EKG, a cat scan, and oh… pneumonia. I’m glad she poo-poo’d the hospital trip. I called my mother-in-law and she was obviously distraught. Neither of us are up the the challenge of parenting with this Chinese Virus, and I have no idea when she’s coming home.

I hate this virus, I hate the Chinese who purposely released this upon the world.

This is my only post of the day With everything going on, I don’t have time to blog for a while.

Jenn Is A Canadian Angel

About a week ago, I mentioned I was really sick, and while I was hoping it wasn’t Covid, Jenn suggested I get tested. I went to a self-test at a local CVS, and after I used the swab I wasn’t sure I did it right. They said the results would come Thursday or Friday.

I was getting antsy yesterday, and when my stress levels hit the roof, I went to Holy Redeemer Hospital. Wow, were they amazing! They got me in immediately, had me walk around with a pulse ox, and monitored my oxygen. They put me into a small room, and the doctor started taking blood, gave me an IV for fluids, gave me an inhaler which really opened up my lungs, and took a chest x-ray.

The x-ray came back okay, the IV definitely helped, and the doctor said I should be good to go in a week or so.

It is not an exaggeration to say I thought I was dying. Holy Redeemer was terrific – as usual – but Jenn’s advice may have saved my life. Thanks Jenn; you’re the greatest.