Are Some weeks worth forgetting?
You have heard people say “it’s been one of those days” but how about it’s been one of those weeks? Most weeks for me slip by unnoticed, sometimes months at a time sail right by when the seas of the universe are smooth as glass. This past week, however the water was a little choppy almost every day.
I had an enjoyable weekend at home that included fun things like seeing the dentist for a regularly scheduled cleaning and enjoyed playing with our new Nintendo Wii, until I became suspicious that the controllers were either defective and/or I reside with a family of cheaters.
Sunday rolled around and I departed in the late afternoon for seven stops in lovely Connecticut. It wasn’t far from Leesport to my first stop in Bridgeport; better to leave Sunday evening and miss what can be hellish traffic from 78, right on through to 95. I figured I’d roll the dice with lot lizards knocking on my door all night and hit the second service plaza on 95 north. I was up there by eight at night, and it was jammed solid with trucks everywhere!
It might have looked like I was out of luck, but I hardly ever run out of luck except for maybe later in the week- and well, luck probably had nothing to do with what I am thinking about... Anyway, I could clearly see there was an exit ramp off 95 not even half mile from where I was- Why not get off the highway and get back on heading South and try the rest area on the that side? Worked like a charm, there was plenty of space over on that side, all I had to do in the morning was do a flip back North and Voila: Off to start another week of adventure.
Standard operating procedure calls for a check in with the boss at home at the end of the night. She was not well, she had flu like symptoms including a bout of gastrointestinal issues. I feel bad upon hearing this; how can she manage with five kids? Guilt starts to set in. Maybe I should have left in the morning and stayed around to help? Too late now. I’m really not worried about me contracting whatever bug has gotten her, I felt good and refuse to let my mind think there is any reason I will become unhealthy just because someone else around me is. It is my opinion if you start even thinking “I don’t feel good” your mind will follow. Works most of the time, but last year I did my best and still wound up with a few days of being bed ridden, doing nothing but sleeping and occasionally begging the Wife to call 911. She wouldn’t call and through some kind of miracle I survived to write about more adventures.
Mondays stops went pretty smoothly other then four out of the seven stops testing my skills in some pretty hairy spots. Made me want to come up with a knock off of Garth Brooks “Friends in Low Places”song:
“I put Trucks in tight spaces.....
Putting looks of amazement on peoples faces...”
“Wasn’t always this way....
But now I’m skillful J”
I Know, don’t give up my day job....
After getting empty Monday I called in for my next instructions. I had to stop in Archbald, PA on my way home to pick up some foam for the warehouse. On that drive is where the sea started to swell....
Somewhere not far out from picking up the foam, I had a full blown, eyeglass screw failure resulting in the right arm of my glasses falling completely off. Not a total disaster since my eyes are not real bad, I can drive with them off if I need to, my trouble is a slight nearsightedness deficiency. I try for a few minutes to get that smaller then heck screw back when I get to the foam factory but patience is quickly lost. It will wait till I get home for the night.
I decided to stay the night in the yard versus going home since I had three stops down in Delaware in the morning and I can avoid putting myself in danger of catching what ever the Old Lady has going on. I fiddled with the glasses some more and noticed the holes were not quite lining up completely. Then I noticed another screw in the arm itself- why not loosen that up and see if that helps.
I tried to loosen it, but that screw was even smaller, about the size of a flea and it quickly shot out at a million miles an hour where it immediately became lost forever in the carpet of my truck. I was so frustrated I briefly thought of running the darn glasses over with all eighteen wheels. Twice. Instead I went to bed.
In the morning I got up, jumped in the car to go retrieve a coffee, a sandwich and scan the headlines on the newspaper. Something about my mouth did not feel quite right and it caused me to put my hand on the left side of my face:
“What the heck, that don’t feel right!”
Part of my pre-trip routine involves a final visit to the little boys room before departure and what I saw in the mirror shocked me: the left side of my face looked as if someone cut a baseball in half and stuck it way back in my cheek. I was concerned and thought about calling off to go have it checked but there was no pain involved. I figured I’d go do my three stops in Delaware, call the dentist from the road and see what they thought, since surely this was their fault!
The folks in Dispatch were gracious enough to give me the next morning off with instructions to call when my appointment was over, which was scheduled for 8:30 the next morning. After the Delaware run, I went to get my glasses repaired. I then went home and enjoyed a delicious home cooked meal of Ham and assorted trimmings. Half hour later, I was either writhing around in horrible pain on the bed or stuck to the commode. Roughly three hours of this bed - commode - bed process. Lovely way to spend an evening at home. Of course, I had to assume this was a typical result of my Wife’s cooking but she was inquisitive of why the rest of the family didn’t suffer the same fate. I then accused her of sprinkling poison on just my food, but after realizing we didn’t up my life insurance recently I deduced perhaps I did get a part of that bug she had.
The next morning I arrive at the dentist promptly at 8:30 in the morning and proceed to wait until 10:30 for the guy to see me. He did some looking around and some standard “This hurt? How about this” questioning all answered by me saying no. He then went and got a much more experienced looking oral surgeon who did the same, then asked me a few questions. I shoot you not, when he asked how old I was, I couldn’t think of the answer. There was an uncomfortable silence then I finally blurted out thirty five, which after later thought, was a year off. A few years back I stopped keeping track, or giving thought to, just how old I am. Don’t celebrate my birthday anymore or anything. By not giving thought to my age, I have become ageless and therefore am not prone to ever getting old.
He finally advises me to go see my family physician.
I was in no pain and anxious to get back to work, where I make money that buys food that my Wife poisons me with, so I asked if it could wait till the weekend?
“You need to see your family physician” in a tone that meant go today. He came around while I was checking out of the office and again said, “make sure you go get that checked right away.” I’m thinking, I get it, stop freaking me out man!
I call the Wife and ask her to call the good Doctor and see if I can score an appointment and she agrees. I have not eaten any food yet since I wasn’t sure how my stomach may react and I didn’t want any problems at the dentist. By now I’m starving, time to hit the diner while I wait for her call.
The diner I went to is literally three minutes from my house and I began to scarf down a Western with Cheese. Since nobody there knows me I am certain it is poison free. It’s real yummy, but the more I eat, the more I start to feel my left cheek becoming slightly uncomfortable. It finally became bad enough that I put my hand there and I was immediately terrified. It felt huge. I could eat no more and checked out as quick as I could. I felt like everyone was looking at me. They probably were.
When I got to my car I looked in the mirror and was in disbelief, my lower left cheek was now approaching the size of a grapefruit!
I shot home, slid in the driveway sideways at a high rate of speed and ran in the door where I found my Wife in the kitchen.
She screamed.
I screamed.
None of us was screaming for ice cream.
We talked for a few moments and I could not convince her to call 911. Fine, off to the ER I go! Jump back in the car and go full throttle for the twenty minute drive there. I was worried about the wait and briefly considered falling on the ground once I walked in:
“MY GOD, LOOK AT THIS MAN”S FACE, GET HIM IN HERE STAT!”
I like attention, but not really that kind, not matter how cute the attending Nurses may have been- so I checked in normally. Saw two people right away. Both said “Wow, does that hurt?” the second one told me to wait in the waiting room, which I did. For four hours. It got to the point where I sat there, just kind of people watching, wandering what was wrong with everyone around me. Some people looked like they may have the flu but for the most part everyone looked FINE! For a time, I thought about going around and interviewing everyone regarding their ills, but after reading the paper three times it got bad enough I relegated myself to reading Women’s Health magazines. What a way to spend an afternoon! Bunch of normal looking people hanging out in the ER except for that one guy with the funny looking cheek!
Finally, I was taken back to a room where more people came asked me “Wow, does that hurt” followed by another half hour wait. A young woman who was a physicians’s assistant finally took my case. Looked around at me a bit, said she had to consult a book, but was pretty sure I should just get a prescription for an anti-inflammatory and suck on some lemon drops. And that’s what happened. Got my ‘playing hooky from work’ note to hand into the safety office and went about my merry way.
I stopped by the yard and ate a quick sandwich in my truck and the cheek got worse again. The diagnosis I got at the ER didn’t really convince me that I wasn’t near death, so I stopped by my family Doctor, without an appointment, on the off chance he might take a look and give me a second opinion. Here’s a tip, if you ever need to see a Doctor without an appointment, cut a Grapefruit in half and stick one part way in the back of your mouth, works like a charm!
He at least gave me a name for what was wrong. My parotid gland, which makes saliva, has a stone in it similar to what happens with a kidney stone, and has become blocked. His advice: Skip the lemon drops and just get some real lemons and suck on them, and if it isn’t better by Friday recommended an Ear, nose and throat guy to call. Stopped and got lemons and went home to suck on them. Then made the mistake of trying to learn about the parotid gland by searching it on google.
For some reason, there must be a filter on there that gives you the most horrifying possibilities first. All I learned is that it gets big when you eat because the gland is making saliva that can’t enter your mouth, and after enough time, that saliva stuck in there will become infected and then it will be very painful. I DON”T WANT IT TO HURT!
Then of course there were more terrifying things like it being caused by tumors, cancerous or non-cancerous! I DON”T WANT TUMORS!
If it came down to it, an ENT Doctor can go in and remove the blockage but this is precarious surgery because a major nerve runs through there and if damaged it can Paralyze half your face for life! I DON'T WANT HALF AN EMOTIONAL FACE!
No where did I see the advice “suck on lemons.” Damn the internet, it just made me more freaked out with all of it’s terrifying possibilities.
On Thursday morning I left for a nine stop, two day trip in Maryland. I waited to leave because I wanted to speak with an ENT doctor about this whole thing, but they only told me they cannot give out medical advice on the phone. I took my big cheek and hit the pavement. Here is a picture from Thursday morning, and this is AFTER the swelling had gone down greatly:
About thirty miles out from Leesport I was massaging my cheek as I drove and all of a sudden: Yuck. The worst taste ever entered from my problem cheek. After ten minutes or so the taste went away for the most part, and my cheek felt normal. I was elated, maybe the lemon worked and the stone has removed itself. No pain, no tumor, or half an emotional face, things are looking good!
Hold on now, this is a long one, the week ain’t over yet!
Of Thursdays seven scheduled stops, I was familiar with six of them. I called the unfamiliar one before heading there and got directions from the customer. Upon arrival it looked like a tight entrance into a small industrial park, but otherwise exactly what he described on the phone. I could see trucks and trailers within the area I intended to go, so I went ahead with my entrance. It looked a little tighter then I originally thought and I was watching my trailer in the passenger mirror as I made my right turn. Turns out I watching too closely as it took my attention away from everything else going on around me. All of a sudden I hear this horrendous scraping noise off my left shoulder and immediately looked in my drivers side mirror. I saw the bottom skirt of my truck tight against one of those yellow poles.
I managed to swing right, avoiding further damage and got out to have a look see. It wasn’t pretty. Way to go Mister Skillful J.
How did I feel? Embarrassed that such a simple turn went so wrong due to my inattentiveness. I can’t put into words how it felt scraping up my truck.. I wanted to go back and do it over, but I can not, the damage has been done. Two choices appear in my mind:
I can open the trailer doors right now, hop in and string up my loading straps on the same wall, stand on a box of lamps and jump off, thereby ending my misery.
Or, I could take this little experience, put it in my pocket of other experiences for future reference, and go about my day. A faulty parotid gland didn’t kill me, this incident shall not either.
The skirt that was damaged can be easily removed by un-clipping it. By tapping into my internal brilliance I devised a plan, and this is the real beauty of being a company driver where all the trucks are exactly the same: I slipped back into Leesport very late at night and under the cover of darkness I removed someone else's side skirt, and performed the old switch-a-roo. Then I stood in the shadows till the driver showed up in the morning and watched him scratching his head as he saw his ‘new’ skirt. I eventually walked over and asked, real nervously, with beads of sweat on my forehead, “Hey man, what happened?”
That is not the course of action I took, but it sounded good, right? Instead I notified our safety office immediately, took pictures and filled out an accident report. Our mechanic informed me that he should be able to remove the paint by buffing it out since it was not severely scraped, just what he termed a ‘paint transfer.’ Because of that fact, I may not lose my entire safety bonus even though I probably deserve to for displaying such shoddy skills.
Later Thursday afternoon I noticed my cell phone battery meter and it was almost shot. For some reason my phone wasn’t charging on it’s built-in cradle.. I decided to call and let the Wife know that if she didn’t from hear from me again today, it’s because the phone battery died and not because I am holed with a lot lizard somewhere. She mentioned how I seemed to be having trouble with things this week. Really? Do you think? I did a quick recap over the phone for her:
– My glasses fell apart
– I had a horrible evening involving terrible diarrhea.
– My face blew up the size of a grapefruit.
– I scraped up my truck.
– my cell phone won’t charge.
After I made my last stop on Thursday I noticed the phone charger was back on line and working normally. Friday’s two stops and the trip home were incident free. The wind had died down and the sea of the universe were becoming smooth as glass.
Is a week like this best forgotten? I don’t think so- I learned some lessons and made some changes here and there as a result.
I learned to leave the eyeglass repair to the professionals. I was told that screw I removed in the arm is never stocked because it NEVER comes out and were kind of surprised I was able to remove it. My favorite Ray Bans could be done for good because of what I did.
I may on occasion make some cracks about my Wife’s cooking, but the truth is she attends to her Wifely duties very well and cooks me up some wonderful meals. I’ll remember to thank my lucky stars every time I eat a meal and do not have a horrible reaction to it.
As far as the parotid Duct blockage- to me that was a very real health scare and opened my eyes. The Amway guys used to run around asking people “have you ever looked at other ways of making money?” This incident was like my body was asking me: “Have you ever looked at other ways of being healthier?” I sure have, and have already made some significant changes in different areas of my life!
Ninety-nine percent of the time, the week comes to a close with no damage being done to the truck. Just because that is the norm does not mean it should not be appreciated. The truck and I often go to places that trucks ought not to be, and most visits are incident free. I have learned that if I let my guard down just for a second or let my concentration slip one way or another it increases the chances of an incident like I had this week.
This week had a few lessons and also reminded me not to under appreciate other things that we may take for granted. It was a week full of value, definitely not worth forgetting.
You have heard people say “it’s been one of those days” but how about it’s been one of those weeks? Most weeks for me slip by unnoticed, sometimes months at a time sail right by when the seas of the universe are smooth as glass. This past week, however the water was a little choppy almost every day.
I had an enjoyable weekend at home that included fun things like seeing the dentist for a regularly scheduled cleaning and enjoyed playing with our new Nintendo Wii, until I became suspicious that the controllers were either defective and/or I reside with a family of cheaters.
Sunday rolled around and I departed in the late afternoon for seven stops in lovely Connecticut. It wasn’t far from Leesport to my first stop in Bridgeport; better to leave Sunday evening and miss what can be hellish traffic from 78, right on through to 95. I figured I’d roll the dice with lot lizards knocking on my door all night and hit the second service plaza on 95 north. I was up there by eight at night, and it was jammed solid with trucks everywhere!
It might have looked like I was out of luck, but I hardly ever run out of luck except for maybe later in the week- and well, luck probably had nothing to do with what I am thinking about... Anyway, I could clearly see there was an exit ramp off 95 not even half mile from where I was- Why not get off the highway and get back on heading South and try the rest area on the that side? Worked like a charm, there was plenty of space over on that side, all I had to do in the morning was do a flip back North and Voila: Off to start another week of adventure.
Standard operating procedure calls for a check in with the boss at home at the end of the night. She was not well, she had flu like symptoms including a bout of gastrointestinal issues. I feel bad upon hearing this; how can she manage with five kids? Guilt starts to set in. Maybe I should have left in the morning and stayed around to help? Too late now. I’m really not worried about me contracting whatever bug has gotten her, I felt good and refuse to let my mind think there is any reason I will become unhealthy just because someone else around me is. It is my opinion if you start even thinking “I don’t feel good” your mind will follow. Works most of the time, but last year I did my best and still wound up with a few days of being bed ridden, doing nothing but sleeping and occasionally begging the Wife to call 911. She wouldn’t call and through some kind of miracle I survived to write about more adventures.
Mondays stops went pretty smoothly other then four out of the seven stops testing my skills in some pretty hairy spots. Made me want to come up with a knock off of Garth Brooks “Friends in Low Places”song:
“I put Trucks in tight spaces.....
Putting looks of amazement on peoples faces...”
“Wasn’t always this way....
But now I’m skillful J”
I Know, don’t give up my day job....
After getting empty Monday I called in for my next instructions. I had to stop in Archbald, PA on my way home to pick up some foam for the warehouse. On that drive is where the sea started to swell....
Somewhere not far out from picking up the foam, I had a full blown, eyeglass screw failure resulting in the right arm of my glasses falling completely off. Not a total disaster since my eyes are not real bad, I can drive with them off if I need to, my trouble is a slight nearsightedness deficiency. I try for a few minutes to get that smaller then heck screw back when I get to the foam factory but patience is quickly lost. It will wait till I get home for the night.
I decided to stay the night in the yard versus going home since I had three stops down in Delaware in the morning and I can avoid putting myself in danger of catching what ever the Old Lady has going on. I fiddled with the glasses some more and noticed the holes were not quite lining up completely. Then I noticed another screw in the arm itself- why not loosen that up and see if that helps.
I tried to loosen it, but that screw was even smaller, about the size of a flea and it quickly shot out at a million miles an hour where it immediately became lost forever in the carpet of my truck. I was so frustrated I briefly thought of running the darn glasses over with all eighteen wheels. Twice. Instead I went to bed.
In the morning I got up, jumped in the car to go retrieve a coffee, a sandwich and scan the headlines on the newspaper. Something about my mouth did not feel quite right and it caused me to put my hand on the left side of my face:
“What the heck, that don’t feel right!”
Part of my pre-trip routine involves a final visit to the little boys room before departure and what I saw in the mirror shocked me: the left side of my face looked as if someone cut a baseball in half and stuck it way back in my cheek. I was concerned and thought about calling off to go have it checked but there was no pain involved. I figured I’d go do my three stops in Delaware, call the dentist from the road and see what they thought, since surely this was their fault!
The folks in Dispatch were gracious enough to give me the next morning off with instructions to call when my appointment was over, which was scheduled for 8:30 the next morning. After the Delaware run, I went to get my glasses repaired. I then went home and enjoyed a delicious home cooked meal of Ham and assorted trimmings. Half hour later, I was either writhing around in horrible pain on the bed or stuck to the commode. Roughly three hours of this bed - commode - bed process. Lovely way to spend an evening at home. Of course, I had to assume this was a typical result of my Wife’s cooking but she was inquisitive of why the rest of the family didn’t suffer the same fate. I then accused her of sprinkling poison on just my food, but after realizing we didn’t up my life insurance recently I deduced perhaps I did get a part of that bug she had.
The next morning I arrive at the dentist promptly at 8:30 in the morning and proceed to wait until 10:30 for the guy to see me. He did some looking around and some standard “This hurt? How about this” questioning all answered by me saying no. He then went and got a much more experienced looking oral surgeon who did the same, then asked me a few questions. I shoot you not, when he asked how old I was, I couldn’t think of the answer. There was an uncomfortable silence then I finally blurted out thirty five, which after later thought, was a year off. A few years back I stopped keeping track, or giving thought to, just how old I am. Don’t celebrate my birthday anymore or anything. By not giving thought to my age, I have become ageless and therefore am not prone to ever getting old.
He finally advises me to go see my family physician.
I was in no pain and anxious to get back to work, where I make money that buys food that my Wife poisons me with, so I asked if it could wait till the weekend?
“You need to see your family physician” in a tone that meant go today. He came around while I was checking out of the office and again said, “make sure you go get that checked right away.” I’m thinking, I get it, stop freaking me out man!
I call the Wife and ask her to call the good Doctor and see if I can score an appointment and she agrees. I have not eaten any food yet since I wasn’t sure how my stomach may react and I didn’t want any problems at the dentist. By now I’m starving, time to hit the diner while I wait for her call.
The diner I went to is literally three minutes from my house and I began to scarf down a Western with Cheese. Since nobody there knows me I am certain it is poison free. It’s real yummy, but the more I eat, the more I start to feel my left cheek becoming slightly uncomfortable. It finally became bad enough that I put my hand there and I was immediately terrified. It felt huge. I could eat no more and checked out as quick as I could. I felt like everyone was looking at me. They probably were.
When I got to my car I looked in the mirror and was in disbelief, my lower left cheek was now approaching the size of a grapefruit!
I shot home, slid in the driveway sideways at a high rate of speed and ran in the door where I found my Wife in the kitchen.
She screamed.
I screamed.
None of us was screaming for ice cream.
We talked for a few moments and I could not convince her to call 911. Fine, off to the ER I go! Jump back in the car and go full throttle for the twenty minute drive there. I was worried about the wait and briefly considered falling on the ground once I walked in:
“MY GOD, LOOK AT THIS MAN”S FACE, GET HIM IN HERE STAT!”
I like attention, but not really that kind, not matter how cute the attending Nurses may have been- so I checked in normally. Saw two people right away. Both said “Wow, does that hurt?” the second one told me to wait in the waiting room, which I did. For four hours. It got to the point where I sat there, just kind of people watching, wandering what was wrong with everyone around me. Some people looked like they may have the flu but for the most part everyone looked FINE! For a time, I thought about going around and interviewing everyone regarding their ills, but after reading the paper three times it got bad enough I relegated myself to reading Women’s Health magazines. What a way to spend an afternoon! Bunch of normal looking people hanging out in the ER except for that one guy with the funny looking cheek!
Finally, I was taken back to a room where more people came asked me “Wow, does that hurt” followed by another half hour wait. A young woman who was a physicians’s assistant finally took my case. Looked around at me a bit, said she had to consult a book, but was pretty sure I should just get a prescription for an anti-inflammatory and suck on some lemon drops. And that’s what happened. Got my ‘playing hooky from work’ note to hand into the safety office and went about my merry way.
I stopped by the yard and ate a quick sandwich in my truck and the cheek got worse again. The diagnosis I got at the ER didn’t really convince me that I wasn’t near death, so I stopped by my family Doctor, without an appointment, on the off chance he might take a look and give me a second opinion. Here’s a tip, if you ever need to see a Doctor without an appointment, cut a Grapefruit in half and stick one part way in the back of your mouth, works like a charm!
He at least gave me a name for what was wrong. My parotid gland, which makes saliva, has a stone in it similar to what happens with a kidney stone, and has become blocked. His advice: Skip the lemon drops and just get some real lemons and suck on them, and if it isn’t better by Friday recommended an Ear, nose and throat guy to call. Stopped and got lemons and went home to suck on them. Then made the mistake of trying to learn about the parotid gland by searching it on google.
For some reason, there must be a filter on there that gives you the most horrifying possibilities first. All I learned is that it gets big when you eat because the gland is making saliva that can’t enter your mouth, and after enough time, that saliva stuck in there will become infected and then it will be very painful. I DON”T WANT IT TO HURT!
Then of course there were more terrifying things like it being caused by tumors, cancerous or non-cancerous! I DON”T WANT TUMORS!
If it came down to it, an ENT Doctor can go in and remove the blockage but this is precarious surgery because a major nerve runs through there and if damaged it can Paralyze half your face for life! I DON'T WANT HALF AN EMOTIONAL FACE!
No where did I see the advice “suck on lemons.” Damn the internet, it just made me more freaked out with all of it’s terrifying possibilities.
On Thursday morning I left for a nine stop, two day trip in Maryland. I waited to leave because I wanted to speak with an ENT doctor about this whole thing, but they only told me they cannot give out medical advice on the phone. I took my big cheek and hit the pavement. Here is a picture from Thursday morning, and this is AFTER the swelling had gone down greatly:
About thirty miles out from Leesport I was massaging my cheek as I drove and all of a sudden: Yuck. The worst taste ever entered from my problem cheek. After ten minutes or so the taste went away for the most part, and my cheek felt normal. I was elated, maybe the lemon worked and the stone has removed itself. No pain, no tumor, or half an emotional face, things are looking good!
Hold on now, this is a long one, the week ain’t over yet!
Of Thursdays seven scheduled stops, I was familiar with six of them. I called the unfamiliar one before heading there and got directions from the customer. Upon arrival it looked like a tight entrance into a small industrial park, but otherwise exactly what he described on the phone. I could see trucks and trailers within the area I intended to go, so I went ahead with my entrance. It looked a little tighter then I originally thought and I was watching my trailer in the passenger mirror as I made my right turn. Turns out I watching too closely as it took my attention away from everything else going on around me. All of a sudden I hear this horrendous scraping noise off my left shoulder and immediately looked in my drivers side mirror. I saw the bottom skirt of my truck tight against one of those yellow poles.
I managed to swing right, avoiding further damage and got out to have a look see. It wasn’t pretty. Way to go Mister Skillful J.
How did I feel? Embarrassed that such a simple turn went so wrong due to my inattentiveness. I can’t put into words how it felt scraping up my truck.. I wanted to go back and do it over, but I can not, the damage has been done. Two choices appear in my mind:
I can open the trailer doors right now, hop in and string up my loading straps on the same wall, stand on a box of lamps and jump off, thereby ending my misery.
Or, I could take this little experience, put it in my pocket of other experiences for future reference, and go about my day. A faulty parotid gland didn’t kill me, this incident shall not either.
The skirt that was damaged can be easily removed by un-clipping it. By tapping into my internal brilliance I devised a plan, and this is the real beauty of being a company driver where all the trucks are exactly the same: I slipped back into Leesport very late at night and under the cover of darkness I removed someone else's side skirt, and performed the old switch-a-roo. Then I stood in the shadows till the driver showed up in the morning and watched him scratching his head as he saw his ‘new’ skirt. I eventually walked over and asked, real nervously, with beads of sweat on my forehead, “Hey man, what happened?”
That is not the course of action I took, but it sounded good, right? Instead I notified our safety office immediately, took pictures and filled out an accident report. Our mechanic informed me that he should be able to remove the paint by buffing it out since it was not severely scraped, just what he termed a ‘paint transfer.’ Because of that fact, I may not lose my entire safety bonus even though I probably deserve to for displaying such shoddy skills.
Later Thursday afternoon I noticed my cell phone battery meter and it was almost shot. For some reason my phone wasn’t charging on it’s built-in cradle.. I decided to call and let the Wife know that if she didn’t from hear from me again today, it’s because the phone battery died and not because I am holed with a lot lizard somewhere. She mentioned how I seemed to be having trouble with things this week. Really? Do you think? I did a quick recap over the phone for her:
– My glasses fell apart
– I had a horrible evening involving terrible diarrhea.
– My face blew up the size of a grapefruit.
– I scraped up my truck.
– my cell phone won’t charge.
After I made my last stop on Thursday I noticed the phone charger was back on line and working normally. Friday’s two stops and the trip home were incident free. The wind had died down and the sea of the universe were becoming smooth as glass.
Is a week like this best forgotten? I don’t think so- I learned some lessons and made some changes here and there as a result.
I learned to leave the eyeglass repair to the professionals. I was told that screw I removed in the arm is never stocked because it NEVER comes out and were kind of surprised I was able to remove it. My favorite Ray Bans could be done for good because of what I did.
I may on occasion make some cracks about my Wife’s cooking, but the truth is she attends to her Wifely duties very well and cooks me up some wonderful meals. I’ll remember to thank my lucky stars every time I eat a meal and do not have a horrible reaction to it.
As far as the parotid Duct blockage- to me that was a very real health scare and opened my eyes. The Amway guys used to run around asking people “have you ever looked at other ways of making money?” This incident was like my body was asking me: “Have you ever looked at other ways of being healthier?” I sure have, and have already made some significant changes in different areas of my life!
Ninety-nine percent of the time, the week comes to a close with no damage being done to the truck. Just because that is the norm does not mean it should not be appreciated. The truck and I often go to places that trucks ought not to be, and most visits are incident free. I have learned that if I let my guard down just for a second or let my concentration slip one way or another it increases the chances of an incident like I had this week.
This week had a few lessons and also reminded me not to under appreciate other things that we may take for granted. It was a week full of value, definitely not worth forgetting.
Comments
I had a similiar incident/accident where I was watching one side and proceeded to bend a rim and bust a tire on a trailer on the other. I felt like a moron, but it taught me a very valuable lesson.
In the end, sounds like despite the rough seas of the past week, it all worked out okay.