Most illnesses, though scary, have a specific set of treatments that go with the specific diagnosis. Diabetics can measure their blood sugar, and then, depending on the type of diabetes, they either take insulin or adjust their diet or exercise regimen to bring the blood sugar measurement into the proper range. Heart disease requires that the sufferer make dietary or lifestyle changes, and in more acute cases, surgery can restore relatively normal health. Many cancers now have very predictable treatments and success rates.

Not so with serious mental illness. Often, even coming up with the diagnosis is a difficult and lengthy procedure.

Think about it for a moment. Who you are and how you perceive the world is handled, if not totally, in large part by your brain. But suppose for a moment that the reality that is presented to you by your brain isn't the reality that is perceived by others. Your brain tells you one thing, but people tell you something completely different. ALL YOUR LIFE, you have trusted your brain and the reality it presents to you, but then, something goes wrong. For some reason, known or unknown, something goes out of balance, and your perception of reality becomes skewed. Why would you not believe your version of reality? Why shouldn't you believe what your brain has been telling you? What other measure of reality do you have?

Then, this skewed perception of reality works to destroy your life. It can affect work, school, financial matters, and sleep patterns. Most often, it strains, breaks, and even destroys interpersonal relationships, whether they be friendships, family relationships, or marriages.

It's hard to get help. Help comes most often in the form of medication and psychotherapy. But in order to get help in the first place, one must admit that one has a serious mental illness. One has to admit that their reality isn't THE reality. That would be scary to admit.

There's no perfect medication for any mental illness. All of them have side effects, some more severe than others. Think about it: Who wants to take a medication that can cause dry mouth, itchiness, diharrea, or "sexual side effects?" ESPECIALLY when the sufferer still denies that the mental illness even exists?

A medication that works for one person may or may not work for another person. Even when it does work, it might take weeks, or even MONTHS before the efficacy of the medication is known. And medicaiton for mental illnesses are often expensive.

In some cases, there are effects of the illness that the mentally ill person actually LIKE. So why take a medication that takes the good parts away?

It sucks, not just for the person suffering with a mental illness, but also for their family members and friends. It's hard to see someone you love in a complete funk brought on not by any actions of their own, but by an abnormal interaction of chemicals and processes in the brain. And worse, when they're in the "funk," they don't realize it, and there seems to be no way to reason with them, to help them see that what they're experiencing isn't normal and can be alleviated by the right kinds of treatment.

I have a lot to learn about mental illness and how to deal with it. I only hope that, by the time I have learned enough to be of assistance, the person I most want to help is still alive to receive the assistance.

I've registered for my next big ride. It's the CASVAR: The Cycling Association of Star Valley Annual Ride. It takes place on 26 August.

CASVAR Route Map

I registered for the 100-mile ride. Between now and then, my goal is to ride a hundred miles a week until the week of the ride. That week, I'll back off a bit, because that Saturday, I'll ride the whole hundred.

Why am I doing this?

Well, last year, I rode a hundred miles in the Desperado Dual in Southern Utah. I rode through Circleville, Utah, where my dad grew up. In the process of training for that ride, I fell in love with road biking and I lost around 30 lbs.

This year, I'm going to ride past the farm where my mom grew up. And hopefully, I'll lose the 15 lbs that I gained back over the winter, the cool, rainy spring, and the summer of landscaping.

The landscaping is ALMOST DONE!

While I was in Phoenix, my landscaper's tractor got repaired and they were able to do the re-grading. The good news is that because the foundation had been dug next door, we didn't have to bring in any dirt. We just used some of the dirt that was piled up in what will beome their backyard. I don't know if it was 100% legal, but that's my landscaper's problem, not mine. They were also able to do all of the curbing, so when I came home, I came home to land that was graded and had curbing. They had also done MOST of the sprinkler system.

While I was at camp last week (mayble I'll blog that later), they did... well... almost nothing.

But on Monday of this week, the day before I woke up with a kidney stone, they finished up most of the sprinkling system and the sod was delivered.

I originally had planned on laying the sod myself. I thought it would be a good experience for my boys to help out and would give them some "ownership" of our yard. But with business trips and scout camp and other things, we decided to have the sod laid for us. It cost a little more, but it turned out to be an EXTREMELY good decision. I wouldn't have been able to lay the sod. I had a freaking kidney stone!

The sod came later than expected because the sod truck was stopped on the freeway for being overweight. Then they made them replace four tires before they would let them continue. Normally, I'd be happy about this because I'm all for highway safety, but this was MY SOD! The landscapers stayed until almost midnight, laying the sod under floodlights. The next morning, they finished up the electrical work for the sprinkler system. (I assume. I was semi-conscious on narcotic cocktails meant to make passing a kidney stone somewhat less miserable.)

While they were waiting for the sod to arrive, they laid the flagstone path and surround for the firepit and installed the firepit itself. Woohoo! They also planted several baby blue spruce, red Canadian chokecherry, and flowering pear trees. We still have plans for some maple trees, but they didn't have the Trident and Norway maples we wanted at the nursery, and the columnar maples we're going to shade the house with in the afternoon didn't have any leaves, so we didn't really want them.

At this point, we are waiting for a little more flagstone to be laid and for the garden boxes to be built and for the rest of the trees to be planted. And then we're officially landscaped. Of course, there's always the fine tuning. We hated where one of the baby blue spruce trees was planted, so we moved it before it took root. Hopefully, it won't die from the shock of re-planting. I've been putting the emitters along the drip irrigation systems. And when (if?) our budget ever recovers from all of this landscaping, we'll want a bunch of shrubs and a rock/gravel path along the top of the rock wall and flowers and... It never ends, does it?

I'll take pictures when the sod takes root and looks a little more even and post them. But the transformation has been AMAZING. I love the result! It's MUCH more beautiful than I would have imagined it could be. It's a great design and it has worked out well.

Less than an hour after I passed that dreaded kidney stone, I got taht dreaded envelope in the mailbox. It was marked for official business only. The return address was an IRS service center.

When I opened it, my heart sank. "The income and payment information (e.g., wages, miscellaneous income, interest, income tax withheld, earned income credit, etc.) that we have on file does not match entries on your 2004 Form 1040. If this information is correct, you will owe $8620."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! I just paid for landscaping! I don't have another $8620 just lying around. To add insult to injury, more than $2000 of this is interest and penalties. Two words: OUCH!

After a few minutes of reminding myself to breathe in and out, I looked closer at the notice I received. The next section told me what steps I can take to help me understand this notice.

1. Review your 2004 tax return.
2. Compare your return to the information in the Explanation Section -- page 5.
3. Decide if the information in the Explanation Section is correct.
4. Check the answers to Frequently Asked Questions -- page 2.
5. Complete and return the Response Form in the enclosed envelope -- page 3.
6. Complete and return the Installment Agreement Request (enclosed) if you need to set up a a payment plan.
7. Review your rights in the Examination Process Booklet (Enclosed)

After looking at the information in the Explanation Section, I can see that the major discrepancy was in the "cost basis of stock sold." For two of my stock option plan transactions, they couldn't determine the cost basis, and therefore used the "zero cost basis." Basically, they assumed that the stock I sold cost me absolutely nothing, which absolutely isn't true. I had to not only pay for the stocks, but a portion of the proceeds from the stock sale were reported on my W-2 as ordinary income, which adds to the cost basis of the stock transaction.

I have documentation to back this up, so it's all going to work out okay in the end. Sure, I had a near heart attack for a while, but after looking through records and thinking about this rationally, I'll be able to show why the figures that I reported are indeed correct.

*whew*

Yesterday morning, I woke up with severe discomfort in my left side. I recognized the discomfort and knew the pain that it was going to turn into. I looked at the clock and saw that it was 4:44 am. How fitting. This would be my fourth kidney stone.

I knew exactly what to do. I needed to get myself to the Emergency Room as soon as possible. Fortunately, I live only a couple of minutes away from a hospital, so I was able to drive myself there. The pain was getting worse.

I'm pretty sure that Emergency Room workers like it when people like me come in. It's nice for them to have someone come in already self-diagnosed and 100% sure of what is wrong with them. I told them that I was having my fourth kidney stone. They immediately took me back into a treatment room and started an IV. They, like me, knew the agony that would soon follow and were ready to give me the medication I would need.

I gave them the sample they needed to test for the presence of blood and confirm my self-diagnosis and then they gave me an intravenous drug coctail that would make my life easier for the next while as well as a prescription for something that would make my life bearable until the kidney stone passed.

My other three stones passed within a few hours of the first pain. This one is taking longer than the others. No, I'm not happy about that. I'm especially not happy because I'm singing at a funeral today. If I'm in enough pain that it's hard to breathe normally, it's going to be EXTREMELY hard to sing. I'll just have to make sure and time my next dose of those wonderful painkillers so that the hour of the funeral will be as comfortable as possible.

I guess there IS a silver lining to this dark cloud: It could have happened last week when I was at scout camp or the week before when I was in Phoenix. In either case, it would have taken me a LOT longer to get to a hospital and get some help.

But, to use a bad pun, this too shall pass.

***UPDATE***
It passed around 4:30 this afternoon, making 36 hours of somewhat excruciating pain. But everything feels better now. *WHEW!*

Hey you! Yeah, I'm talking to you! Yes, you, the lady in the teeny-weeny black bikini by the side of the pool!

It's NOT WORKING.

See that guy to your left? No, not him, the other guy. Yeah, that's right...the one wearing a speedo. You're right. He shouldn't be wearing a speedo. Well, I'm sorry to break this to you, but he's you, just in the male variety.

No, I'm not saying you're fat. I'm just saying that you're not quite what you either once were, or once THOUGHT you were when you bought that piece of dental floss disguised as designer swimwear. Sure, it might look good on SOMEONE. That someone would have a physique closer to Twiggy's than to yours.

I'm sorry. It's just NOT WORKING.

So wrap that towel around yourself, because...

Ewwww.

Air travel... What a strange, strange thing.

People are herded onto metal cylinders that hurtle through the atmosphere at speeds of several hundreds of miles per hour. The quarters are cramped and uncomfortable. There is little or no control over any part of the process. We are scrutinized, sometimes poked and prodded, and subjected to all sorts of screenings, all so that we can arrive at distant destinations in some semblance of a reasonable amount of time.

When things go well, it's a tolerable experience. When they don't, it can be miserable.

Here are some more of my experiences in the wonderful world of commercial air travel.

For my fifteenth wedding anniversary, I took my wife to La Caille, a snooty French restaurant at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon. I had heard of La Caille before. It certainly has a very high reputation. It's likely the most expensive restaurant in the greater Salt Lake area. So when I was given $200 in gift certificates to La Caille, I was actually pretty excited to finally be able to experience the snooty Frenchness without having to foot the bill.

La Caille is in a VERY beautiful place. It's in a large, gated area, and as we drove up the brick-cobbled lane to the restaurant, we enjoyed the scenery. As we came closer to the restaurant, we noticed (much to my wife's joy) that the lawn was littered with BUNNIES. Real, live bunnies were running all over the place! And peacocks were strutting around too.

After relinquishing my vehicle to the valet, we walked in the front doors and were greeted by a tart with cleavage. As a matter of fact, before the night was over, we re-named the restaurant "Tarts With Cleavage."

"Welcome to Tarts With Cleavage. Are you ready to be seated or would you like to ogle for a while longer?"

Yes, all of the waitresses were wearing French tart costumes, and almost without exception, they had discovered the push-up bra. Now, I'm not saying that I'm not interested in cleavage. It's just that there's just one particular person's cleavage I'm interested in. That's one of the reasons that we were celebrating our fifteenth wedding anniversary - because I take the "cleave unto" thing literally. And that means generally NOT taking notice of other womens' cleavage.

Oh yeah, and our server was oldish, and honestly... Old cleavage? *shudder*

The menu that they brought out after we were seated had only appetizers. Our server gave us a somewhat disappointed look when we didn't want to see the wine list. I could almost SEE the "Great. Smaller tip." look on her face. We both ordered french onion soup. Apparently, the reward for ordering and consuming an appetizer is the actual dinner menu. "Well. Now that we see that you actually CAN eat, here's something you can REALLY sink your teeth into."

The prices on the menu were all spelled out. For example, instead of $56, it was printed as FIFTY-SIX. I think that's done to minimize the sticker shock. You see, it takes a while for one's brain to translate the words "FIFTY-SIX" into dollars, and even then, the brain disbelieves that a couple dollars' worth of ingreedients could be magically transformed into something that costs that much, so, in denial, the brain decides that it's item number FIFTY-SIX on the menu, or something like that. There was one exception. The Australian Rock Lobster didn't have a price. It simply said "FINANCING AVAILABLE."

Honestly, I've had better food in restaurants that are a lot less pricey. Maybe they feel that a glass or two of wine will make the food taste better. Maybe they feel that what they lack in taste, they make up in tart cleavage. Since I'm not interested enough in either, I was a little disappointed with the food.

Dessert, however, is quite a spectacle, even when served by one of the cleavage-less peasant boys that were occaisionally seen waiting tables. A lot of the desserts were accompanied by fire and the servers expertly poured flaming concoctions from gravy boats into large goblets. Both the chocolate cake and the creme brulee that we ate were excellent, and were, by far, the best part of the meal. All's well that ends well, right?

Well... almost.

For two appetizers, a couple of salads, a piece of prime rib, a couple of chicken breasts, and the aforementioned desserts, we were handed a bill that came to ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-SEVEN. HA! I kid! It wasn't actually spelled out like that on the bill. They used real numbers. By that time, you've already eaten everything you're going to eat, and spoiling your appetite with real numbers won't deprive the restaurant of any more money.

Our server DID do one more (rather common) trick to try to get a bigger tip from me. A 20% tip could come to about THIRTY-ONE on this particular bill. But when I received my change of just under FORTY-THREE, they gave me two twenty-dollar bills and two one-dollar bills. If I didn't have any cash in my wallet, I would have to either ask the server to break one of the twenties, or I would have to just leave FORTY on the table. Most often, people don't want to bother (especially when paying with gift certificates), and they just leave the larger tip.

So that was my experience at Tarts With Cleavage... I mean, La Caille. My overall rating would be overpriced, overrated, and too pushed-up, if you get my meaning. But having experienced it all on someone else's nickle, I can't really complain.

According to Google, the traditional gift is crystal.

Fifteen years ago, I was very young and even more naïve. I was young and in love, and what more was needed than that?

Looking back over the last fifteen years, I see how incomprehensibly stupid I was. I lacked the ability and the sense to make such a life-alteringly-important choice. I'm not sure that I even knew whether or not this choice I was making was the RIGHT choice. Statistically, getting married so young to someone I knew for such a short time would only end in disaster.

Yet here we are, fifteen years later, happier and more in love than we were when we made this rash, yet wonderful decision to join our lives together.

It took us a while to get used to each other. We hadn't known each other for long enough to know how the other would react in any given situation. But though sometimes difficult, this initial getting-to-know period was mostly fun and exciting. It was a rush. It was just a more intense continuation of the flirting and dating and infatuation stages that we had started not long before.

There were financial difficulties at times. We were poorer than dirt. We struggled, sometimes only being able to scrape together half a month's rent at a time. Student loans saved us from financial ruin, getting us by until I was finally making enough money to make ends meet. We received little or no help from family, because often, our families weren't doing a whole lot better than we were. We're in a comfortable position financially today, and the hard times helped us grow closer to each other. It feels good to be able to say that we've climbed to where we are financially on our own.

There were emotional difficulties at times. I'd be lying if I said that there aren't still emotional difficulties. After the initial rush wore off, we got down to the business of figuring out who "we" are. And every time we thought we had figured it out, something else happened that seemed to throw all that we thought we knew about "us" into disarray. Jobs were lost. First one child came, then another, each changing the dynamic of our little family. There were struggles with depression, wrestles with self-identity, and crises of faith. The "we" and "us" had to continue to evolve. Even recent life changes such as buying a new house (and leaving behind almost eight years of memories in the old house) have caused strains and have caused us to re-evaluate certain things in our lives.

Yet through it all, there has been a love that has continued to grow and deepen through fifteen years. The joys, the intimacy, the laughter, the challenges, the tears... ALL of this has helped forge a bond between us. It's this bond that has kept us together and has kept us communicating and loving and laughing and crying TOGETHER for fifteen years and will keep us doing the same for endless years to come.

Fifteen years.

High school "friends" told me it wouldn't last five years. I told them they'd be dead and gone before this relationship ended. So far, so good. We've survived things that have ruined other marriages - marriages of people that I know personally. We've not only survived, but triumphed over our challenges and have turned weaknesses into strengths. There's lots more to come. We'll have a teenager next year and who knows what challenges THAT will bring.

But because of the commitment we both have to each other, because of the way we continue to overcome problems and because of the relationship that continues to grow, evolve, and strengthen between us, I dont really worry that the "us" will ever cease to be.

I love her more than life.

I'm looking forward to what "we" will become in the future.

They've started working again!

Yesterday, they trenched all over in my dirt and put yards and yards of PVC pipe and black "funny pipe" in the trenches.

Hopefully, I'll have a lawn again soon. Mmmmm.... Cool, green grass!

I promise not to complain about having to mow the lawn... at least, not THIS year!

They've also started working in the vacant lot next door. No longer will it be vacant. They finished digging the foundation yesterday. I had to ask the nice man with the huge excavator to please remove the dirt that had spilled over onto my lot because my landscaper needed to trench for our sprinkler system. It was a good thing I asked him yesterday, because this morning, they loaded up the excavator and hauled it off somewhere.

It's also going to be nice to have a house next door, not an empty field. It will also be nice to know how much of our view we're possibly going to lose.

We've met our new neighbors. They've dropped by a couple of times to watch the progress of the home they're building. They seem like nice people. They told us that it's going to be a rambler, so we might not lose ALL of the view from our bedroom windows. *crossing fingers*