Category Archives: Family

Puppy Farts

I'm sitting here working away with the two dogs asleep nearby on the floor.  One dog is our six year old, 80 pound black lab named Arthur, the other is our approximately seven month old, 31 pound mutt named Mia.  As they sleep I hear a "phhht" sound every few minutes and then smell what can best be described as re-heated road kill.  You'd think the sound and odor assault was coming from that fat old codger Arthur, but you'd be wrong; it's emanating from the mini-mutt.  What makes it particularly annoying is that she occasionally wakes herself up, leans over and sniffs her butt as if to say "Hmm, that's a good vintage" and then promptly goes back to sleep and leaves me to suffer through her output.

Rest assured as soon as I'm done typing I'm waking the dogs up and sending them outside before I suffocate.  It's worse than the kids' dirty diapers ever were.

Gag.

Fire! or What NOT to Text Your Dad from School

My Blackberry rang this morning and when I picked up my daughter, a freshman at West Forsyth High School, asked me, "Dad, did you get my text?"

"Uh, no," I said.

"Oh, well there's a fire in one of the buildings here at school and I don't have first period."

"Okay," I replied, "Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, it's only in the one building so everyone else has to go to class. But everyone in the 1000 building got out of class."

"Oh, okay.  Well call us back if anything changes and we need to come get you."

"Thanks Dad.  Byuh."

After hanging up I checked my messages and this is the text she sent: "Dad there is a fire!"

All I can say is that I'm awful glad I talked to her before I read the text.  Once again I have proof that my kids know nothing about context.

Anyhow for those with kids at West Forsyth High School there's apparently been a fire in the 1000 building.  Given that there's ongoing construction on the campus I suspect it has something to do with that, but I don't know for sure.  We haven't gotten a robo-call from the school and there's nothing in the news about it so it sounds like it isn't a big deal.  Hopefully that's true.

Jealous of My Uncle’s La-Z-Boy

Catching up on my newspaper reading after our trip I came across one of those "What are you thankful for?" pieces in The Winston-Salem Journal, the same article that is done every Thanksgiving day by every newspaper in the United States, and wouldn't have read it except that Laura Giovanelli put it together and since I've met her and like everything she writes I decided to give it a glance.  So what do I find, but a quote from my Uncle Steve:

Sure, Steve Motsinger of Winston-Salem is thankful for his family
and his dog, Sadie. But he wanted to single out the little things that
make his life good: hot showers, Advil, whitening toothpaste, paper
towels, automatic coffee makers, newspapers delivered in plastic bags,
comfortable shoes, relaxed-fit jeans and classic rock 'n' roll, and
most of all, his beloved LazyBoy recliner.

"I admit that the springs are shot and the fabric worn and stained.
I'll even concede that there might be a Frito or two from 1987
mellowing away in some dark interior nook. (I strongly suspect that
there are also one or more pacifiers, which mysteriously disappeared
when the kids were toddlers). But for all its faults, the chair fits me
like a glove. The sounds of springs groaning and fabric straining
whenever I sit down are, to me, the Sirens' call, luring me back onto
the shore of the World of a Thousand Naps. This chair is my friend and
I am thankful for it."

I've sat in that chair and can attest that it's very comfortable and upon further consideration I'm jealous of it.  We've never purchased La-Z-Boy for our house, instead opting for multiple couches in our living rooms and dens.  Thus I have a couch with a favorite spot, which anyone can easily identify because it's the spot with a large indentation that never goes away.  It bothers Celeste mightily so I'm thinking I need to get a chair for my large derriere for two reasons:

  1. When guests come over they don't see a lopsided couch that embarrasses my wife, but rather a battered and stained monument to the American male that my wife can point to and say "Men!?"
  2. I have a place that is all my own, a sanctuary with a male bubble of seclusion that no one will sit in because it grosses them out, and from which I can watch my fill of football and basketball games while gnoshing on various and sundry heart attack inducing snacks, games that I'll never see the end of because I've been lured by the Sirens' call to one of countless naps.

Hangin’ With the Boys in IOP

As is our tradition we are spending Turkey Day in Isle of Palms, SC with Celeste’s family. It being Friday the ladies have gone shopping with the girls in tow. I’m hangin’ with the boys in our room watching Star Wars with our nephews, which means I’ve avoided the Black Friday plague for at least the 18th consecutive year.
No wi-fi where we’re staying so doing a lot of thumb typing on ye olde Blackberry. Life’s good.

Beaten, Battered, Bruised and Triumphant – Another Soccer Season Ends

Well, another soccer season has come to a close.  This weekend my daughter Erin's team, the Twin City Youth Soccer Association Lady Reds (U-15) of which I'm the assistant coach, played in the 2008 adida's Challenge Clash at Bryan Park in Greensboro.  The girls won both games yesterday, one against a team that had beaten us twice earlier this season, and were guaranteed a spot in the tournament final this afternoon regardless of the result of this morning's game.  As it happened the team we faced this morning was the other undefeated team in our bracket so essentially we were guaranteed to play them twice today.  The team was from Triangle and they were tough, well coached and very skilled.  Our girls managed to squeak out a tie in the morning game and then two hours later lined up for another go at 'em.

Before I tell you the result let me tell you that our girls showed more gumption than most teams I've been around either as a player or a coach.  In between today's games the medical tent had at least five of our girls in there getting treatment for sprains, strains and contusions. The girls also knew how big and tough this team they were going to play was because those were the same girls that sent them to the tent in the first place. I should emphasize that the Triangle team did that with hard, clean play and not dirty soccer.  Still, our girls eagerly laced em up and went out to try and win a championship.

For the most part the game was played in our defensive end.  Those Triangle girls really were very good, very athletic and very well coached.  Unfortunately one of our girls had a blatant hand violation in the penalty box that resulted in a penalty kick (and goal) for them.  A few minutes later one of our defenders got tangled up with one of their players in the box, and although it clearly wasn't a foul another penalty kick was awarded that resulted in a goal.  I'm going to be generous and say the ref had a bad day and leave it at that.  Anyway, we entered half time down 2-0.

In the first 25 minutes of the second half we again survived a bunch of action in our own defensive end and honestly I thought the girls were going to just try and make it through the game without breaking something or giving up another goal.  I should have known better.  For the last 10 minutes they fought and scrapped and managed to finally get a goal with three minutes left.  They kept pouring it on and had another couple of chances before the whistle blew and it was all over.

At the end of the day our girls played the best tournament they've had in the three seasons Erin and I have been involved.  They made the finals and gave a very strong team all they could handle.  It was a sight to behold.

As for me, well I managed to get a ref to yell at me for the first time since I've been the assistant coach.  I thought she'd done a terrible job the whole game and with about ten minutes left one of our girls got steamrolled and when I didn't hear the whistle I pulled a John McEnroe and yelled "You've GOT to be kidding me."  Then she blew the whistle and yelled at me to hush up and if I'd given her the chance she was getting ready to blow the whistle.  In my head I said, "This year would've been nice" but out of my mouth came "Sorry."  It cracked the girls on the bench up, but it was a little embarrassing.

My hat's off to our head coach Mac, who dealt with all the crap with the club, the league and the tournaments and never once lost his cool.  It ain't easy being the go-between for 16 fifteen-year old girls, their families and a youth sports bureaucracy but somehow he did it.  Now he'll be able to do his day job uninterrupted for a few months and we'll all get our weekends back for a while.

And of course there was our team manager Rick.  He must have sent out 10,000 email this season and made just as many phone calls in an effort to get us where we needed to be on time and ready to play.  I'm not sure what we would of done without him.

We also had a great bunch of parents on this team.  They were all very positive, never getting down on the girls and never yelling objectionable things at the opponents or the refs. Heck, if anything they were too nice, but I'll take that over the prima donna parents any day.  Not to be overlooked is their time commitment in getting their girls to the practices and games and I hope we were able to communicate our appreciation to them adequately.

Finally, I have to say that these girls were a true joy to coach.  I'm not sure how much good we did them, but they did a world of good for us.  They made us laugh, a lot, and roll our eyes at all the stories about boys and school, and boys and boys and in the process only drove us a little bit crazy.  What more can you ask from a bunch of teenage girls?  Thanks Lady Reds.

Now THAT is a Subject Line

I get enough email on any given day that it really takes a special subject line to grab my attention.  My Dad managed it today with one word: Pricks.

Now my Dad's not a cusser so when he uses salty language it really sticks out.  His email was in response to this post about how I'd like our next leader of the financial sector to be described. I really like what he wrote:

Most of the high net worth people I see in my marketing efforts work
with people they like. Many times this is a tragedy because the client
seldom does the due diligence they should when following the advice of
someone they like. Neither party wants to offend the other. The prick
(he may or may not really be a prick) doesn't care since he is more
concerned with communicating or doing what he perceives to be right. We
just hope that that person(s) is principled and competent. May our
public officials take principled positions and may we as members of our
society accept what we don't want to hear. How do you like that shift
from the Micro to the Macro.

Put another way, I'll take a competent jerk over an incompetent clown any day, especially when it comes to my money.

Now I'm just waiting for an email from my Mom with the subject "A-holes" and I'll have seen everything.

Holy Crap, Erin’s 15!

A year ago today I was on a business trip to Germany and really not happy about it.  That's because October 23 is our daughter Erin's birthday and for the first time in any of my kids' lives I wasn't going to be there to help celebrate their big day.  As I wrote last year, I had to put food on the table but I didn't have to be happy about it. And since I've written the last few years about how much she's grown up and how she's not my little girl any more I figured this year I'd just highlight where we are at this point in time.

First, let's talk about friends.  Erin has about 5,000 of them and all of them text her every 15 seconds.  Amazingly, her 1 1/4 year old phone still works although I don't think it can take much more punishment.  And honestly the engineers of that thing should win some sort of prize. I figure each of the keys has to have been pressed over 50,000 times at this point and the fact that not one has gone dead is an engineering achievement that rivals the Great Pyramids.

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This morning two of those friends, Jesse and Sarah, showed up at our house about 15 minutes before the school bus was due to arrive.  They were carrying happy birthday signs (Erin's holding one in the picture to the left) and generally made her feel like a million bucks.  They even coordinated with Erin's brother Michael to make sure that she rode the bus and didn't hitch a ride with us and miss all the fun.

Next, let's talk about boys.  Actually in our house it seems like we never stop talking about boys.  Boys, boys, boys.  I guess it's just a sign that she's a healthy and happy 15 year old that Erin finds any boy with a pulse to be "cute."  Recently she's decided to classify one of those boys as a boyfriend and I know this because she changed her profile on Facebook to "In a relationship."  Note to Erin's grandparents: that's how things are done these days.  We don't tell each other anything, we just write about it online for 1,000,000 other people to see and then wait for our family members to hear it through the grapevine.  I asked Erin about it and she blushed and said she wasn't sure Celeste and I would approve so that's why she didn't tell us.  I guess she forgot that I can read and I also have a Facebook account and would eventually find out anyway. 

Ah, well.  I told her that she was right that we wouldn't approve, but that it had nothing to do with the boy himself.  She could be dating the crown prince of England and I wouldn't approve since in my eyes all boys are equally vile and despicable.  Heck I was a boy at one time (Celeste says I still am) and I've told Erin repeatedly that there's not a teenage boy alive that she can trust.  I'm at that point in life where I wish a man could take a stick to any boy that looked cross-eyed at his daughter and he would be met with understanding nods of approval.  But, since we live in a civilized society I'll just have to satisfy myself with treating the little weasels like dog poop on the bottom of my shoe. 

Obviously I'm treading ground that's been well traveled by a gazillion fathers before me, and honestly I have no room to complain. The girl brings home straight A's, excels at everything she tries, and only drives us crazy four times a day.  She also happens to be beautiful, have the world's greatest smile, a laugh that could stop traffic and an uncanny ability to attract people to her like moths to a flame.

Of course I can't end before I tell you that one of our greatest joys is that she's not outgrown her propensity for Erin-isms.  Since she was a child Erin's had the uncanny ability to mutilate words in an often hysterical fashion.  When she was in elementary school she saw a Mitsubishi and called it "mister bushy."  A couple of years ago we were passing a fast food restaurant that had an "Open Late" sign and she blurted out, "Look they have open lattes."  Last year when we asked what some of the activities were scheduled on her class trip to the coast she said they were going to go "wadding." When we gave her a confused look she said, "You know, when you walk in the water but don't swim."  The best part about the Erin-isms is the fact that she just laughs them off.  It's an amazing part of her personality that she just accepts them, and honestly it's one of the most endearing attributes of a truly incredible young lady.

Happy birthday honey.  Tell Will I'm watching.

Bad Luck Charm

I think I might be a bad luck charm for my daughter’s soccer team, which might not be so bad if I wasn’t also a coach for the team. You see the girls played one of our “big” games today against one of our sister teams in Twin City Youth Soccer (Challenge) U-15 and I missed it due to helping with the prep for my church’s BBQ (see prior post). Since I’ve been involved with the team we’ve never beaten one of our sister teams…until today. Not only did we beat the Lady Gold 2-1 (we’re the Lady Reds) I hear that the girls played the best as a unit that anyone has seen them play. The last time I missed a game my daughter scored a goal in another win. Heck, the game I missed last season she scored two goals in a win. See a pattern here?

Tomorrow we play the Lady Royals, our other sister team, and I’m thinking I may need to stay home.

An MRI from Wake Forest? $1,900

I’m going to give you fair warning that the language of this post might get a little strong.  I can’t promise that I’ll control my fingers because I’m just a little pissed.  Here’s the story.

In August Celeste hurt her shoulder.  It got to the point that she couldn’t raise her arm past shoulder level without experiencing severe pain, and she couldn’t sleep comfortably because whenever she moved she experienced sharp pain radiating from the shoulder.  Eventually she scheduled and appointment to see a doctor for an examination.  He checked her out and thought maybe she’d torn her rotator cuff, but since he couldn’t be sure he ordered an MRI, which she had done late in the evening on August 25th.  The MRI came back negative so the doctor suspects that the rotator cuff is strained and that the because the shoulder is a complex joint that depends on all the non-bone stuff (my technical term) to keep the bones in place.  His thinking is that the strain has caused the ball to be pulled back into the socket and it is "catching" when she tries to raise her arm.  The prescription?  Physical therapy.  So Celeste and I went to Comp Rehab for one session where we were taught all the exercises, and she’s been doing all the exercises at home and making pretty good progress.

Here’s where it gets good.  Our insurance company informed us that the MRI wasn’t medically necessary.  That means that we’re paying it 100% out of pocket, which we would anyway since we have a high deductible policy tied to a Health Savings Account (HSA), but now it won’t count towards our annual deductible.  Then we get the notice from Wake Forest University Baptist Medical Center that our bill for the 1/2 hour MRI is $1,900.  What the hell?!

So here’s what kills me about this.  First, the medical necessity thing.  If Celeste hadn’t had the MRI the doctor would probably have ended up doing surgery.  At a minimum she would have had to have seen the doctor several more times in order to gauge what was going on with the shoulder, figure out a course of treatment, etc.  Even then he would not have been sure of his diagnosis and if she didn’t recover rapidly she’d end up under the knife.  As it is the rehab is taking time and without knowing for sure what’s going on with the shoulder Celeste and the doctor probably would have looked at alternatives by this point.  In other words it would have been much less efficient and much more costly to treat than the MRI was.  We’re going to appeal the BCBS decision, but I don’t think it will do us any good.

Second, no one ever told us what the MRI would cost.  The doctor ordered it and we went. Now, part of the theory behind HSAs is that since we are responsible for paying the bills directly we’ll help keep costs low because if something is too expensive we’ll squawk or go to a competitor.  Well, it’s kind of hard to do when no one tells you what it will cost.  There’s no price transparency!  Also, no one told us what our options were, if any, for alternative places to have the MRI done.  I’m willing to take some responsibility here.  We probably should have asked ahead of time if there were other places to do the MRI, what the MRI would cost, etc.  Unfortunately we’re still conditioned by our lifetime of working within a health care system that traditionally kept the decisions in the hands of the doctors and insurers.

Still, even with me acknowledging that maybe we should have been more diligent consumers I want to know what other business out there provides a service without telling you the price up front?  I guess there’s auto repair shops, but often they don’t know what the problem with the car is until they look at it and then they usually call you to tell you what the financial damage will be before they start to work.  With an MRI they know up front what it costs them to administer the test so why not publish their pricing?  Could it be that they have different rates for different people?  If you’re uninsured it’s one rate, but if you’re insured it’s another?  Could it be that maybe there’d be a mass revolt if everyone knew that an MRI process that takes 1/2 hour costs more than most peoples’ monthly rent?

Compare this to our experience at the dentist.  They always check with us before doing a procedure, and the pricing is readily available.  They understand that we may not deem teeth whitening to be worth $75, so they make their recommendation, tell us the price and then let us decide.  In the end they may not sell that one procedure, but they keep us happy and thus keep all five of us in their chairs.

I can tell you right now that if there’s another instance where one of us needs something done medically we will be much more active shoppers.  I’m not saying we’ll necessarily move away from Wake Forest, but if there’s a better alternative out there we’re going to take it.  Of course pricing isn’t the only consideration, but it is one of them.  Trust is another, and if they can’t provide pricing up front then they’ll probably lose us because I can’t trust someone who won’t level with me about the terms of our relationship. 

To reiterate, I don’t know if Wake Forest provides pricing up front or not because we didn’t ask, but the fact that we do have to ask in the first place tells me that the health industry isn’t yet ready for the "free market" that is represented by health plans like our HSA.

Last point: is there any question that our health care system needs fixing when you consider that one simple MRI costs $1,900?  Yes it’s an expensive machine and yes you have to pay a technician to operate it and maintain it, but if you do the math you realize that this is way out of whack.  If they charge that rate to everyone, average two scans an hour for twelve hours a day and work 365 days a year they are grossing over $16.5 million per year for that machine’s use.  Even if you cut that back to one scan per hour that’s $8.3 million per year.  Let’s say a new machine costs $2 million and lasts 10 years, that means that the machine averages $200,000/year for acquisition.  Then let’s assume that it costs $2 million a year to maintain and operate it, a number I think is high, then you have $2.2 million annual cost.  That means that the profit on the operation of the machine can be comfortably guesstimated at a minimum of 300-400%.  Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but my gut says this is highway robbery.

Oh, and Wake Forest University Baptist Medical Center is a "nonprofit."

Handyman

Yesterday my wife had wakened in the pre-dawn hours, packed up the youngest and headed to Virginia for our niece’s baptism.  I stayed home with the oldest two kids because they had various things scheduled for the weekend, including my daughter’s soccer game.  Well we had torrential rains so the game ended up being cancelled which left me with something I’m not accustomed to: a Saturday afternoon with nothing scheduled. I decided to take the opportunity to get some things off of my to-do list.

First up was assembling the dresser we’d purchased for the youngest’s room.  We bought it from God-forsaken Wal-Mart almost a month ago, but I hadn’t had the chance to put it together and it was weighing on me.  I opened up the box and was pleasantly surprised to find instructions that informed me that I’d need exactly one tool for the job, a hammer.  “Whoa,” I thought, “this is a job even I can handle!”

I continued unpacking the box and neatly aligning all the pieces, found my hammer, and set to work.  I had the first three pieces together in no time and was trying to get the fourth piece on when I messed up.  I misaligned the male metal bracket of one piece with the female metal bracket of the other and they got stuck.  So I pulled and tugged and finally got them to separate with a real hard yank.  Unfortunately my index finger got in the way and one of the brackets opened it up right nicely with an inch long gash that was deep enough that you could see things you ought not to be able to see.

I went into the kitchen to rinse it out and realized that I might need to get it looked at, especially when I couldn’t get my hand to stop shaking.  Honestly it didn’t hurt, but it looked nasty and I figured the shaking was my body’s way of telling me I’d royally screwed up.  So I recruited the oldest to help me bandage everything in place and then headed to see the folks at Davie Hospital.

We use Davie regularly because even though it’s twice the distance than either Forsyth or Baptist it is never crowded and you can usually be in and out in under an hour.  Since it was a Saturday they were busier than usual, but I was out of there in about 90 minutes.  They had a med student look at me and she wasn’t sure if I needed stitches or if we could get away with glueing it so she recruited a full-fledged doctor to look at it.  His judgment was I just needed cleaning, steri-strips and a tetanus shot.  So a student nurse gave me the shot and cleaned out the gash, and then the doctor returned to show the student how to steri-strip it, all the while engaging me in a cynical discussion of the impending economic doom being foreshadowed in Washington.  It was a lot of fun.

The doctor also put a splint on the finger to prevent bending, and thus reopening the wound.  They sent me on my way with instructions to keep my finger clean and dry which seemed contradictory to me.  I’m still trying to figure it out, but I figure if I get “stinky finger” I’ll know I need to do something about it.

Once I got home I recruited the oldest to help me finish the dresser.  It took about an hour, which wasn’t bad considering I was greatly hampered by the mangled finger.  Pictures of the dresser and finger below.

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