Public Service Announcement

***Warning, graphic content ahead. SFW, but graphic***

So I ended my weekend on a really rough note. I went to take the dog for a walk at 5, before DAPGF and I went to get dinner. As I was walking past our condo's pool, I glanced in and saw what appeared to be a person floating face down in the water, and nobody else around. I got out my keys and got into the pool area, clipped the dog leash to the fence, and whipped out the cell phone to call 911. While it's ringing, I take off my shoes, keys, wallet, etc., and jump into the shallow end where the guy is floating. 911 answers and PUTS ME ON HOLD!!! I close the phone and chuck it up on the pool deck, scream for somebody to call 911 (several times), and grab this guy who is about 6 feet tall and probably weighs 200 pounds and hurl him up onto the pool deck. Boy Scouts 20 years ago comes rushing back and I get him on his side to try and clear his airway. Beer starts coming out his nose and mouth. While I'm checking for a pulse, my cell phone starts ringing. I don't know why, but I knew it was 911 calling me back (since I hung up on them) and I answered it. The 911 operator tells me that paramedics are on the way, and starts talking me through mouth to mouth and CPR. Side note, compression/breathing patterns have changed since I was last certified in the 1980s. People start to gather around the pool deck, but only one dude is helping me out at this point, mainly wiping the beer, water, and whatever off of this guy's face while I'm doing chest compressions. After about 10 minutes of that, I realized that the other dude had left. No idea why, no idea where he went. A few minutes after that, the San Diego Fire paramedics showed up and took over. I called DAPGF to come down and get the dog, to finish her walk. A San Diego Police officer took my statement (what happened, when did I find the guy, yadda yadda yadda). After about another 20 minutes of working on the guy, the paramedics stopped, saying that he was gone. After talking with a bunch of my neighbors who were hanging around with DAPGF, I went home and showered. We decided to go get something to eat, not that I had much of an appetite at that point. We decided to walk by the pool one last time, to see if the coroner had shown up so I could give her my statement and not have to have her call me during dinner or something. Fortunately she was there and that business was taken care of. I still feel queasy.

Things learned from this whole experience. You shouldn't swim alone, and you really shouldn't swim when you've been drinking. I only saw one can of beer on a table by the chaise lounge where the guy's wallet, flip flops, etc. were, but I bet he spent the day drinking while watching football. You should also carry your keys (all of them, storage rooms, pool areas, club houses) with you at all times. Damn near all of my neighbors said that they were amazed that I had my pool key on my key ring. Apparently they all keep theirs on separate rings. That, and keep a cell phone with you at all times. I walk the dog early in the morning and late at night. I am 6'3" and weigh in the range of 277-280, and I'm walking a Doberman Pinscher. It's not that likely that anybody is really going to hassle me while I'm walking, but why take the chance. So take these experiences and use them to better protect yourselves. I'm also going to find a CPR course and get re-certified, and I suggest that you all do it, too. Again, better to be prepared than find yourself in a bad situation and not know what to do. I feel bad that I wasn't able to get the guy revived, but I know I did everything that I could, and I did it as right as possible. I hope you never find yourself in such a position, but if you do, I hope you have read this post and are better prepared for it.

***Cross-posted at The Randomness***

How Stupid Can You Be?

And for the stupid is as stupid does award…

We bring you the story of MIT student, Star Simpson.  She's attending MIT, so she's brainy and likely somewhat techy and geeky (not that there's anything wrong with that).  She has to go to Logan International Airport in Boston to meet her boyfriend.  She decides to wear a sweatshirt upon which she's attached a lighted computer circuit board with visible wiring, and she's holding a wad of play doh in her hand.  After having the authorities level machine guns at her and arrest her, she's actually protesting what happened, and pleading "not guilty" to a charge of disturbing the peace and possessing a hoax device.

OK.  Was what she did a harmless statement (as she said)?  Technically, yes.  She was not wearing a bomb.  Did she exercise judgment that goes beyond stupid?  Hell yes.  Let's examine this.  Post 9/11 USA.  "Let me dress like a suicide bomber, but it will just be a joke.  Nobody should misunderstand what I'm doing.  And to add to the excitement, maybe I'll do it at the airport where two of the four highjacked 9/11 planes took off from.  And just to extract maximum irony, I'll do it in the city that went apeshit over the Aqua Teen Hunger Force goofy fake bomb thing.  I should really be able to make a statement that way."  And you wonder why the men with the big guns told you to get face down on the pavement.  And you wonder why you were placed under arrest.  Did the authorities overreact?  To the ATHF thing, probably.  To her, nope.  I'd say they did their jobs correctly, and I'm glad for it.  Besides, every single airport I've ever been in has always had a sign (several, actually) that had words to the effect of, "We take all comments regarding bombs and guns seriously."  Meaning even if you're joking, we're going to react as though your comment was meant seriously.  So if you go to an airport, any airport much less the one which was pretty much the epicenter of the 9/11 tragedy, and basically say that you've got a bomb strapped to your body, you should expect to be treated as a terrorist threat.  The moron is lucky to still be alive.  Major Scott Pare of the Mass. State Police was quoted as saying, "She was immediately told to stop, to raise her hands and not to make any movement, so we could observe all her movements to see if she was trying to trip any type of device.  Had she not followed the protocol, we might have used deadly force." 

I understand the idea of making a statement, really I do.  Unfortunately the statement that came across was, "I'm a f**king moron.  Shoot me."  Mr. Darwin, we likely have a future candidate for your award.

Dogs, steroids, and any excuse to not work out...

Wassup party peeps! I apologize for the lack of posts, but my dear doggie has been having some severe health issues, and I’ve been shuttling back and forth to vets, hand feeding her, and other assorted sick doggie activities. Right now the preliminary diagnosis is a slipped or herniated disc that has been causing lethargy, pain, lack of appetite, and a desire to not move her hind legs. The neurologist vet (yes, we’ve gotten to that stage) put her on steroids (my own little Dobie Bonds!) to see if they can reduce any inflammation in her spine. If they work, great. Still, on Tuesday she goes back to the neurologist for an MRI to specifically identify the injury. Even if the steroids reduce the inflammation, and the combo of ‘roids and doggie pain pills have given her her energy and appetite back, it’s likely that without surgery the problem would crop up again. So any good thoughts you can send towards Ginger and improvement to her health are much appreciated. And with that, on to my fat.

It’s a little frustrating. On August 27, my weigh-in was 279.2 lbs. At the time, it was the first real progress I’d seen in the month of August, and my next goal for 9/3 was to be 277.2 lbs. Ginger’s problems first cropped up that Thursday, August 30, and kind of screwed up my exercise over the weekend. I did get some weight-lifting in, hoisting 75 pounds of Dobie in and out of the Jeep, but with her lack of energy and pain, our 45 minute dog walks were reduced down to at most a lap around our condo building. I actually did pretty well on the eating end of things, especially impressive given the holiday, and wound up with a 9/3 weigh-in of 277.6 lbs, just .4 lbs shy of my goal. All things being equal, not bad.

Since I got so close, I set today’s goal at 2 pounds less than where I had planned to be last Monday, 275.2 lbs. Tuesday and Wednesday were both vet visit days where I ate no breakfast and didn’t go into the office, and thus didn’t really snack much. Wednesday’s weigh-in was actually 275.8 lbs, so I was actually pretty excited about making my goal. Unfortunately, Wednesday and Thursday’s gym opportunities were shot when I had to head home and take care of the dog, because DAPGF’s boss kept her late and she lost her window of time between work and teaching on both nights. And the weight had crept back up into the 279 range by Friday morning. I went to the driving range Friday at lunch, and I made it to the gym Saturday morning and was rewarded with a weigh-in of 278.2 lbs. Yes this was above where I started the week, but given the peak of the week (hey! That rhymed!) of 279.4, I was pretty pleased. Sunday I made it to the gym and managed to post a weigh-in of 277.8. Yay me! Fighting back! Sunday we went to Mimi’s Café for brunch. I had this stuffed BBQ chicken quesadilla. Now, I’ve had this thing a couple of times and it is just the perfect amount of food, IMO. It is tasty, satisfying, and just filling enough (it’s an appetizer, not an entrée) without making me feel stuffed. Sunday, though, I’m not sure what happened. I ate it and it just sat in my belly like a lead weight, and all I could think is that this was totally going to screw my Monday weigh-in. DAPGF went out with some friends, so I just had some Uncle Ben’s instant rice (about 400 cal. worth) and some baked Lays potato chips. End result, today’s weigh-in hit an ungodly 279.2 lbs. I gained almost 2 pounds this week, and wound up 4 pounds north of what my goal had been! I think they snuck some lead weights or something into my quesadilla.

You know, though, I’m disappointed but I remain optimistic. This recent effort that began in earnest on July 3, when I discovered My Fitness Pal (still the greatest weight-loss tool I’ve come across), and although the majority of August was lacking in progress, I didn’t backslide either. I’ve come to realize that I actually can control my weight. Logically (duh) all it takes is portion control and exercise. It sounds simple, but it ain’t the easiest thing to do. Especially when you are constantly bombarded by restaurants that have ever-increasing portion sizes, and fast food joints who charge $3.29 for a southwestern chicken pita sandwich that rings up at 254 calories (and is really tasty, btw – Jack in the Box) and $1.49 for a medium diet coke, but only charges 30 cents more to make it a combo with fries and a soda, or charging $2.29 for one sausage mcmuffin and $2.69 for 2 of them. Despite not needing a full combo, or 2 mcmuffins, I have such a mental block when it comes to trying to get my money’s worth, and I have such a hard time justifying to myself the idea of not getting the combo or not getting the two-fer deal. That being said, I’ve been really good at not hitting the drive-thru’s, and avoiding the Chinese buffets. I know I can do this. I’ve been doing it, and there’s no reason why I can’t. Given today’s weigh-in, my goal for 9/17 will be 277.2 lbs. I’m going to actually aim for where I should’ve been today, 275.2 lbs, but I’m trying to stick with the two pound drop per week. Wish me luck, and thank you in advance for any good vibes for Ginger.