Things are back to normal in Jakarta. Security is still a little more diligent inspecting cars than they were before the bombings. The hotels have reopened for guests, though I have not driven by to see what they now look like. Work continues to plod on like a slow moving train and we continue to improve with each passing week.
On the home front, several events occurred this week: some good, some bad, some worse.
The Good
The company Olympics finally had an event that required my involvement - bowling. I've never been a frequent bowler. I don't have the spin on the ball that professionals and avid amateurs do. Over the years, I have developed an approach that allows me to bowl competently whenever I bowl. Stand one and a half dots right of center, aim for the arrow right of center. If I hit the head pin, nine times out of ten I will get a strike. If I miss the head pin, I'm left with four or five pins, but I'm setup for an easy spare. My typical score is 125 - 140. Good, but not great.
The competition started at 6:30. I arrived at 4 PM to get a few practice games in prior to the event. I played two games and bowled 130 in each. The high score from last year was 152 - a score I felt I could beat. We took up ten lanes, with four people, one from each team, in each lane.
At 6:30, the game began and we started to bowl. I started with a spare, then an open frame. My next two frames were spares, with only a 4 pin first ball in the fourth frame. My lane was pretty competitive. The bowler in the first position was following spares with strikes, and had only one open frame after 6. Going into the 7th frame, he was leading me by twenty points and looking at a finish somewhere in the high 150's. The quality of bowlers this year was higher than last year.
I had told everyone that I was going to win this event. I looked at the high scores across all ten lanes and realized I had some work to do. I told my lane I was going to throw a strike this frame so I could catch up. I did. I had a spare in both the eighth and ninth. Looking around, I knew I needed to finish strong if I was going to win.
Tenth frame comes and I increase my concentration. Standing on my preferred dot, I focus intently on the first arrow right of center. I concentrate on my arm motion and never lift my eyes from my target. STRIKE. Tenth frame, so I get two more balls. I go through the same motions - STRIKE. One more ball, same approach, same result - STRIKE.
The entire crowd around me erupting in cheers. I'm jumping madly crossing my arms in front of me. Who knew bowling could be this exciting? The computer shows its cartoon turkey and then calculates my final score - 186. This proves to be enough to win the first round. The next highest score is a 181, which was surprisingly high. My Olympic team and members from my staff on other teams all come by and give me congratulations. The event organizer announces that I had the high score, and that my team is leading the event.
Now it's time for round two. The team managers are reviewing the list of those who have arrived and those who have played. The plan is to keep those who scored high, and replace those who scored low with other members of the team. Over thirty minutes elapse between the end of the first round and the start of the second. I spend my time guarding my lucky ball (I was using a 12lb ball with damaged finger holes), and playing with my daughter.
I start the second game with a strike, making four strikes in a row. I follow it with a 2-6 open frame. By this point, I've bowled 2 games to warm up, another 2 games (unscored) warming up with everyone else, and a game in the competition. That's 100 throws. My hand is starting to hurt. The third frame I get another strike, which I follow with another open frame. I'm not setting a good trend. This lane is not as competitive as my first lane, and I think I lost my focus as a result. I do best when I am challenged. I finish the game with a respectable 142 which is good enough for fourth place. The person who bowled 181 in the first game bowls a 180 in the second. I have high game, he finishes with high series. My team wins the event and takes the gold medal.
The Bad
Several weeks ago I went to the doctor complaining of a sore throat that had lasted several weeks. I thought it was from a post nasal drip. They did a thorough examination and, not able to pinpoint the exact cause, gave me three kinds of medicine with instructions on how to use them. Try one for two days. If symptoms don't subside, try the next. The one that finally worked for me was Nexxium, which is used for acid reflux. I had 11 pills, and felt great for those 11 days. Two days after I stopped taking them, my sore throat was still gone - and has not returned - but I can tell the acid reflux is still a problem.
I first tried altering my diet. I minimized the spicy food - no more gado gado or sapi lada hitam - and ate more bananas, apples and bread. I even minimized my dairy, which meant dealing with my ice cream addiction. I could still feel my stomach churning in the evening and I still have mild stomach upset throughout the day.
Tuesday, I finally decide to see a doctor and get more pills. I relay the history of the recent weeks and tell them that Nexxium did the trick. I also tell them that 7 years ago I had an endoscopy that diagnosed me with GERD. We treated it with Nexxium for six months and it did not come back for seven years, until six weeks ago. I was hoping to get on the Nexxium again.
In the US, the doctor would have been happy to write me a prescription and send me on my way. Maybe they would have prescribed more tests, but they still would have given me a prescription. This doctor wants me to have another endoscopy. My insurance does not allow invasive procedures to occur in Indonesia, so I have to go to Singapore for the test. We were already planning a trip to Singapore the first weekend in September to move my wife and daughter their until the arrival of our son, so I've scheduled my appointment to occur on that trip. I already know the end result, so I hope they'll finally give me medicine upon my return.
The Worse
Our beloved dog Guapo, champion and protector of all Earth's little creatures, and the first dog I ever owned in Arizona, has died. In September of last year, when we were preparing for a December departure, the vet found he had a tumor on his stomach and predicted he would live just until October. He seemed perfectly healthy to me, and was still loving life, so I decided to let him have his fun as long as he could. His fun stopped on Monday. His life stopped on Wednesday.
Monday, my father-in-law noticed he was an unhappy dog. He wasn't eating, he was sluggish, and just wasn't his feisty self. He took him to the vet who told him that the tumor had ruptured and was bleeding. His gums were completely white. My father-in-law asked if we wanted to do the $1,000 surgery or euthanize. I got Guapo from the Humane Society in 1997. He was a full grown dog and estimated at 2 years old when I got him. I did not think it wise to spend $1,000 on a 14 year old dog who was now completely deaf. I gave him the go ahead to euthanize.
Wednesday morning, on the morning of the appointment, Guapo was nowhere to be found. After much looking around the backyard, he finally found him laying peacefully, breathing laboriously, under the trailer parked at the side of our house. When dogs know the end is near, instinct tells them to leave the pack and find a peaceful place to die, alone. Guapo had found his place to die.
Guapo passed on Wednesday morning sleeping on the pillow he used at night, not on the ground underneath a mobile home. I will remember him for his fearlessness and his loving protection of creatures smaller than him.
I knew I had a special dog the day two Rottweilers were inspecting him too aggressively and he made his dislike known by charging them both. Those two dogs had no idea what had happened and took off running the other direction rather than deal with the fury of my 30lb terrier. The biggest foe he ever took on was a full grown cow in the middle of the desert north of Lake Pleasant. We brought all the dogs to the lake for the day. The north part of the lake is open territory where people will camp and off-road drive. You need a four-wheel drive vehicle to get around. It's pretty wild. Cattle also roam freely in the area. We happened to be there on a day when the cows were eating the long grass around the river feeding the lake. One of them did something Guapo didn't like, and he went after it. The cow took off running and Guapo took off after it. He was running full speed underneath the cow, jumping up and nipping the cow's stomach. I was afraid he would be trampled by the hooves. Instead, he was finally stopped when he ran face first into a cactus. His normally distinguished manner was greatly humbled as he moped back to us to remove the quills embedded in his face.
He was also a protector of the smaller creatures. When I first got China, Guapo took it upon himself to be the role model for how dogs should act, and to take China under his guardianship. One Saturday, while I was getting ready to go out, Guapo came rushing into my room and spun in circles excitedly until I noticed him. I said something to him and he took off running. I laughed at his playfulness and went back to my preparations. Soon, Guapo was back and spinning in circles again. This time, when I said something to him, he started to run, but made sure I was following him before he continued.
He led me to the kitchen and stopped at the refrigerator. He pointed with his nose at the grill underneath and began scratching at it. I wondered what he was doing, so I looked. Much to my surprise, I discovered that China, who was still a very small puppy, was trapped underneath the fridge. I had to figure out how to get her out without killing her and without damaging the fridge. I finally decided the easiest thing to do would be to tilt it back and let her crawl out.
I tilted the fridge back and called to her, but she wouldn't come. I couldn't bend down and pull her out and hold the fridge at the same time, so I told Guapo: "Get her". He grabbed her collar with his teeth and pulled and yanked until he had pulled her out from underneath the fridge.
Guapo was a great dog and will be truly missed by all he knew him.
On the home front, several events occurred this week: some good, some bad, some worse.
The Good
The company Olympics finally had an event that required my involvement - bowling. I've never been a frequent bowler. I don't have the spin on the ball that professionals and avid amateurs do. Over the years, I have developed an approach that allows me to bowl competently whenever I bowl. Stand one and a half dots right of center, aim for the arrow right of center. If I hit the head pin, nine times out of ten I will get a strike. If I miss the head pin, I'm left with four or five pins, but I'm setup for an easy spare. My typical score is 125 - 140. Good, but not great.
The competition started at 6:30. I arrived at 4 PM to get a few practice games in prior to the event. I played two games and bowled 130 in each. The high score from last year was 152 - a score I felt I could beat. We took up ten lanes, with four people, one from each team, in each lane.
At 6:30, the game began and we started to bowl. I started with a spare, then an open frame. My next two frames were spares, with only a 4 pin first ball in the fourth frame. My lane was pretty competitive. The bowler in the first position was following spares with strikes, and had only one open frame after 6. Going into the 7th frame, he was leading me by twenty points and looking at a finish somewhere in the high 150's. The quality of bowlers this year was higher than last year.
I had told everyone that I was going to win this event. I looked at the high scores across all ten lanes and realized I had some work to do. I told my lane I was going to throw a strike this frame so I could catch up. I did. I had a spare in both the eighth and ninth. Looking around, I knew I needed to finish strong if I was going to win.
Tenth frame comes and I increase my concentration. Standing on my preferred dot, I focus intently on the first arrow right of center. I concentrate on my arm motion and never lift my eyes from my target. STRIKE. Tenth frame, so I get two more balls. I go through the same motions - STRIKE. One more ball, same approach, same result - STRIKE.
The entire crowd around me erupting in cheers. I'm jumping madly crossing my arms in front of me. Who knew bowling could be this exciting? The computer shows its cartoon turkey and then calculates my final score - 186. This proves to be enough to win the first round. The next highest score is a 181, which was surprisingly high. My Olympic team and members from my staff on other teams all come by and give me congratulations. The event organizer announces that I had the high score, and that my team is leading the event.
Now it's time for round two. The team managers are reviewing the list of those who have arrived and those who have played. The plan is to keep those who scored high, and replace those who scored low with other members of the team. Over thirty minutes elapse between the end of the first round and the start of the second. I spend my time guarding my lucky ball (I was using a 12lb ball with damaged finger holes), and playing with my daughter.
I start the second game with a strike, making four strikes in a row. I follow it with a 2-6 open frame. By this point, I've bowled 2 games to warm up, another 2 games (unscored) warming up with everyone else, and a game in the competition. That's 100 throws. My hand is starting to hurt. The third frame I get another strike, which I follow with another open frame. I'm not setting a good trend. This lane is not as competitive as my first lane, and I think I lost my focus as a result. I do best when I am challenged. I finish the game with a respectable 142 which is good enough for fourth place. The person who bowled 181 in the first game bowls a 180 in the second. I have high game, he finishes with high series. My team wins the event and takes the gold medal.
The Bad
Several weeks ago I went to the doctor complaining of a sore throat that had lasted several weeks. I thought it was from a post nasal drip. They did a thorough examination and, not able to pinpoint the exact cause, gave me three kinds of medicine with instructions on how to use them. Try one for two days. If symptoms don't subside, try the next. The one that finally worked for me was Nexxium, which is used for acid reflux. I had 11 pills, and felt great for those 11 days. Two days after I stopped taking them, my sore throat was still gone - and has not returned - but I can tell the acid reflux is still a problem.
I first tried altering my diet. I minimized the spicy food - no more gado gado or sapi lada hitam - and ate more bananas, apples and bread. I even minimized my dairy, which meant dealing with my ice cream addiction. I could still feel my stomach churning in the evening and I still have mild stomach upset throughout the day.
Tuesday, I finally decide to see a doctor and get more pills. I relay the history of the recent weeks and tell them that Nexxium did the trick. I also tell them that 7 years ago I had an endoscopy that diagnosed me with GERD. We treated it with Nexxium for six months and it did not come back for seven years, until six weeks ago. I was hoping to get on the Nexxium again.
In the US, the doctor would have been happy to write me a prescription and send me on my way. Maybe they would have prescribed more tests, but they still would have given me a prescription. This doctor wants me to have another endoscopy. My insurance does not allow invasive procedures to occur in Indonesia, so I have to go to Singapore for the test. We were already planning a trip to Singapore the first weekend in September to move my wife and daughter their until the arrival of our son, so I've scheduled my appointment to occur on that trip. I already know the end result, so I hope they'll finally give me medicine upon my return.
The Worse
Our beloved dog Guapo, champion and protector of all Earth's little creatures, and the first dog I ever owned in Arizona, has died. In September of last year, when we were preparing for a December departure, the vet found he had a tumor on his stomach and predicted he would live just until October. He seemed perfectly healthy to me, and was still loving life, so I decided to let him have his fun as long as he could. His fun stopped on Monday. His life stopped on Wednesday.
Monday, my father-in-law noticed he was an unhappy dog. He wasn't eating, he was sluggish, and just wasn't his feisty self. He took him to the vet who told him that the tumor had ruptured and was bleeding. His gums were completely white. My father-in-law asked if we wanted to do the $1,000 surgery or euthanize. I got Guapo from the Humane Society in 1997. He was a full grown dog and estimated at 2 years old when I got him. I did not think it wise to spend $1,000 on a 14 year old dog who was now completely deaf. I gave him the go ahead to euthanize.
Wednesday morning, on the morning of the appointment, Guapo was nowhere to be found. After much looking around the backyard, he finally found him laying peacefully, breathing laboriously, under the trailer parked at the side of our house. When dogs know the end is near, instinct tells them to leave the pack and find a peaceful place to die, alone. Guapo had found his place to die.
Guapo passed on Wednesday morning sleeping on the pillow he used at night, not on the ground underneath a mobile home. I will remember him for his fearlessness and his loving protection of creatures smaller than him.
I knew I had a special dog the day two Rottweilers were inspecting him too aggressively and he made his dislike known by charging them both. Those two dogs had no idea what had happened and took off running the other direction rather than deal with the fury of my 30lb terrier. The biggest foe he ever took on was a full grown cow in the middle of the desert north of Lake Pleasant. We brought all the dogs to the lake for the day. The north part of the lake is open territory where people will camp and off-road drive. You need a four-wheel drive vehicle to get around. It's pretty wild. Cattle also roam freely in the area. We happened to be there on a day when the cows were eating the long grass around the river feeding the lake. One of them did something Guapo didn't like, and he went after it. The cow took off running and Guapo took off after it. He was running full speed underneath the cow, jumping up and nipping the cow's stomach. I was afraid he would be trampled by the hooves. Instead, he was finally stopped when he ran face first into a cactus. His normally distinguished manner was greatly humbled as he moped back to us to remove the quills embedded in his face.
He was also a protector of the smaller creatures. When I first got China, Guapo took it upon himself to be the role model for how dogs should act, and to take China under his guardianship. One Saturday, while I was getting ready to go out, Guapo came rushing into my room and spun in circles excitedly until I noticed him. I said something to him and he took off running. I laughed at his playfulness and went back to my preparations. Soon, Guapo was back and spinning in circles again. This time, when I said something to him, he started to run, but made sure I was following him before he continued.
He led me to the kitchen and stopped at the refrigerator. He pointed with his nose at the grill underneath and began scratching at it. I wondered what he was doing, so I looked. Much to my surprise, I discovered that China, who was still a very small puppy, was trapped underneath the fridge. I had to figure out how to get her out without killing her and without damaging the fridge. I finally decided the easiest thing to do would be to tilt it back and let her crawl out.
I tilted the fridge back and called to her, but she wouldn't come. I couldn't bend down and pull her out and hold the fridge at the same time, so I told Guapo: "Get her". He grabbed her collar with his teeth and pulled and yanked until he had pulled her out from underneath the fridge.
Guapo was a great dog and will be truly missed by all he knew him.
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3 comments:
I am sorry to hear about Guapo. He was a sweetheart. I remember when I looked after your house you in 2002, he always slept on the floor near my bed. DvB
He sure was a great dog!!! I remember shortly after I first moved to AZ you guys went out of town and I got a call from the neighbors b/c he somehow found his way out of your backyard. The neighbor nor I had a key so I brought him back to stay with me until you guys returned. What a funny lil' character! He definitely was a perro guapo!
oh...and I think I've been having acid reflux symptoms for YEARS without knowing it! I haven't been to the doc yet about it...but a lot of people suggested that my annoying little cough that I get after eating is probably acid reflux related. I've been trying acid reflux meds (tums, etc) after eating and it helps!!! It's not shocking considering Dad's always had it really badly, Gma (on mom's side) was recently diagnosed with it, and my hija was diagnosed really young too. Good ol' genetics!!
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