I'm Ashamed of Myself Today, Politically Speaking

But, I think it's who I am.  Read together, does that mean, I'm ashamed of who I am?  I hope not.  Don't think so.

I'll take a quick step back.  Someone (actually two people) that I care about dearly (who will remain anonymous for obvious reasons) have decided to run for Congress.  Announcement(s) soon to come, but this is about me, remember?  Stop thinking about them.  They'll be in the limelight soon enough.

Anyway, knowing a thing or two about Congressional campaigns and having worked for Congress Members in DC and in the District, I offered my help.  They accepted.  I will have significant roles in both campaigns.  Until I get fired (see below for reasons why).  And, as an aside, I am not really fond of that many people.  Nor do I truly support many folks politically.  I genuinely love both of these people; two of the most genuine, honest, smart, and hard working people that I know.  Having worked on the Hill, I am also certain that both of them will make excellent Members of Congress.

Back to me.  I discovered today that I may have multiple personalities (not really, of course, though some of you might not be surprised by the actual diagnosis).  There's Kind Troy, Daddy Troy, Boss Troy (#1 - Nice), Boss Troy (#2 - Not Nice).  And there's Political Troy.  He hasn't been around for awhile, and I forgot about him.  This morning, I remembered.

Political Troy is not a bad guy.  He may even be the proverbial "good guy."  He is determined, focused, gets things done, and is bossy.  Really bossy, precise, and expects perfection - for his candidates/members.  You'll hear Political Troy talk about deadlines, checklists, his disappointments and expectations.  Political Troy wants things done now, and perfectly.  Generally, that's how he gets them.  When he doesn't, there are ramifications.  (Political Troy has even been known to be a little bossy with his candidates/elected officials.)

There is a reason that Political Troy is successful, and that his candidates tolerate him.  He demands these things, and gets them - for his candidates and the people that they represent.  He's the "behind the scenes" guy, the heavy, the enforcer, the detail guy - because the candidates can't be.  Their jobs are even more important.

But today, I also realized that Political Troy is kind of a jerk.  He's not patient, tolerant of many mistakes, and is more directive than a teacher.  Though he never raises his voice (no Troy does), his looks may be worse.  Those who do well love Political Troy - because he loves them.  Those who don't do well learn the hard way.

So, today I struggled a bit with how I reconcile this, sometimes jerk, with the other nice Troys (except for Not Nice Boss Troy - who is necessary sometimes).  I decided that Political Troy has to be the way he is; I wish he didn't.  As a warning, if you run into him and get a look or told what to do or whatever, just remember Political Troy is doing this because he believes in the candidates.  And thinks that the constituents, Congress, and the country will benefit from them being elected.  Good cause, good cause.  Oh, and if you're not doing something productive, get out of his way.  (Go to my house - because Political Troy isn't allowed there.  My kids have never even met him.)

Foster's Fodder for Thought: Ohio, O-Bye-O, O-Bio

Foster's Fodder for Thought: Ohio, O-Bye-O, O-Bio: "By Troy Foster We sit in our Cincinnati, Ohio hotel room tonight, and I have to say that I’ve never real..."

Ohio, O-Bye-O, O-Bio

By Troy Foster                               

We sit in our Cincinnati, Ohio hotel room tonight, and I have to say that I’ve never really disliked a State so much.  In fact, being a pretty patriotic guy and having been to a bunch of them, I don’t think I’ve ever really disliked a whole State.  Now, I do.  Congratulations Ohio – for taking that prize.  Of course, I’m being irrational, projecting, and will soon forgive the Buckeye State.  For now though, I think even natives will understand my current state on the State.

Last summer, our son (Henry) was diagnosed with mitochondrial disease.  The type that he has is degenerative and progressive, no cure, not good on the medical side of things.  His neurologist’s nurse called us to tell us the news – as we were driving through Ohio on our way to Virginia for a vacation.  She explained that his biopsy showed the deficiency.  Why, why – Ohio?

Ok, forgive and forget?  Not exactly forget – because I have remembered, but that passed and my relationship with Ohio greatly improved since last year.  Ironically, Henry’s specialist is in Cincinnati – so we make frequent trips, and have grown to like to like the place – despite the reason for us being here.  The kids (Henry especially) love the special time with mom and dad, and staying in a hotel – any hotel – is magical.  As an aside, I love that purity.  In all honesty, it doesn’t matter one bit to the kids whether the hotel is dirty, in the worst neighborhood, or has no amenities.  It’s an adventure of equal magnitude – no matter what.  So having that with Henry (and the other kids) has made us laugh and smile a lot here in Cincinnati.

But today was the day that broke the camel’s back.  We’re here with Henry for a few days for several appointments.  And, we decided to “check in” with the neurologist’s office to see if test results for Luke, our oldest, had come back.  You see, having gone through what we did with Henry, we thought that we “saw things” with Luke.  “Things” that wouldn’t have meant much had Henry not been diagnosed with the disease.  We took Luke to Henry’s neurologist to rule out the disease, and tell us how silly we were.  He didn’t.  After a brief examination and some blood work, he scheduled Luke for a muscle biopsy to determine whether he had the disease.  (If the consequences weren’t so serious, I’d almost be proud of Kristen and my diagnostic abilities.)

When we checked in, the nurse called me back.  Same nurse that talked to us about Henry – her name is Shirley.  She is very kind, and thankfully, has a calming influence.  But her news was not good.  She told me that the results had come back, and that Luke had the same disease and severe deficiency that Henry has.  After she decided that I understood, she began her discussion about hope, medical advances, and how each patient reacts differently.  And then started to tell me about the clinical studies that they would enroll Luke in.  At that point, I think that I stopped listening.  Hope, clinical studies, medical advances – though her delivery was fantastic – those terms hit with a ton of bricks.  This is our oldest son – the kid that seemed asymptomatic.  The one that they were suppose to rule out. 

Just like any other parent would be, we are devastated by the news.  It is hard to process.  Much easier to blame a State than take in the reality.  But we are in a different place than we were when we got the news about Henry.  He has taught us – all of the kids have really – that living life to the fullest – each and every day – is far more important than anything else.  It’s the little things.  Like the kids loving hotels.  And loving to pretend to be spies.  So we took off for an overnight out of town, pretended we were spies (friend kind), and stayed the night in a hotel. 

Or other little things.  Like kissing each other through the window on the way out the door.  Giving Henry a “wild jump,” letting Luke crawl in bed with us in the middle of the night, and planning our next vacation.  Or letting Lily and Henry cuss in the car during “cuss time” (Lily really loves this).  Or taking the kids on dates, and going to every single event the kids have.  Or speeding over the railroad tracks so that the kids’ stomachs drop as they scream with excitement.  And the things go on and on – buried throughout the minutia of each and every day.

Things that might seem little, but aren’t.  Things that might seem irresponsible – or poor timing – but, on balance, it doesn’t matter.  Things that you maybe “shouldn’t” do – but the shouldn’ts and shoulds changed for us.  (I often wonder if they might be misguided anyway.)  Whenever I wonder whether we should be more traditional, more responsible, more – you fill in the blank . . . I just look at our kids.  Their smiles, the sparkle in their eyes, and the utter happiness that they experience in the littlest things tells me that I wouldn’t change a thing.  What’s especially amazing to me is that Henry, and Luke as of late, are often sick, tired, and have reasons to complain.  They don’t.  Instead, they sincerely and genuinely enjoy the present and look forward.  A perspective that I wish that I had long ago adopted.  They are real old souls.  (Now, mind you, we also have gone to great lengths to have normalcy.  They are disciplined.  They have chores.  And there are no excuses for bad manners or bad behavior.  They are well behaved.)

So we are in a different place this year than we were last with this news.  Actually, we’re in the same State – Ohio – which is what this post started with.  But, we are in a different state in the same State, if you will.  Though incredibly sad and heart-wrenching to have two kids with this disease, we will not dwell on the disease, the symptoms, or the potential outcome.  We can’t.   Our boys won’t let us – even if we wanted to.  Making every moment count, and creating memories now is our focus.  After all, it is the little things.

So, instead of thinking about how incredibly sad that I am that Luke and Henry – my precious boys – have a rare disease and will not have enough energy to complete basic functions at various points – I choose to hate Ohio.  For now.  That’s just until we think of our next adventure with the kids – whether it’s making special cookies for the neighbors or making a craft with toilet paper rolls.  Or watching the fire bugs light up in the back yard.  Who knows, maybe it will even be passing through (or coming to) Ohio on our next big adventure.

Ticked Off (or In)

This story is not for the weak at heart, and explains why I am so lucky to have met and married my wife.  And, it’s about ticks.

Before we got married, I had an awesome Great Dane, named Cooper.  Cooper was a dream dog.  After a lot of training classes and time and attention, he was well behaved.  He was loving and peaceful too.  So, when I found out that he had ticks, it was really upsetting.  They had burrowed their way into his paws.  Made me sad; so, I quickly got him taken care of.

A few days later, I realized that ticks are not easily disposed of.  I saw some crawling up the wall – full of blood.  It was disgusting, to say the very least.  So, I “bombed” the house.  Cooper was in the clear.  Two days later, however, I saw one, then two, then ten, then 20 – creepy crawly baby ticks on Cooper’s bed.  He had so much repellent on him.  He was safe.  But, I needed these blood-suckers gone.  Bomb number two seemed to do the trick.

After this craziness, Kristen and I continued our romantic dates.  She can tell you how romantic I am.  And, it plays out in this story too, if you don’t believe either of us.   Seriously, we had gotten close quickly, and I had fallen in love.  No doubt in my mind.  So, what was to come was extremely mortifying.

For weeks, I had noticed a weird rash on my chest and stomach.  I kept asking Kristen to look at it (sexy huh), and she refused.  The odd thing to me was that it wasn’t on the surface, and the bumps kept getting bigger.  I waited a few weeks, and it didn’t go away.  So, I went to the doctor.

He looked, and asked me if I had any parasites in the house.  What?  Why would I?  Oh yeah, well Cooper had ticks, I told him.  What he then explained to me has forever been etched on my brain.  He said that the tiny ticks will burrow in hair follicles – into your body.  Where there is plenty of blood.  Gorge themselves, and then they’re stuck.  With that, he stuck a needle in my chest and drained a couple of these fat ticks.  I almost threw up – just like you did in your mouth just now.

At the end of my visit, the doctor gave me a prescription of what turned out to be napalm for your body.  He told me to rub it all over my body – and anyone who had been in the house for an extended period of time. 

Enter Kristen.  I invited her to lunch (romantic), gave her the scoop, and asked her if she could pick up the napalm.  When she told her sister, she was accused of being naïve – right like I had that weird kind of chest STD. 

When we got home, I liberally applied the chemical and left it on all night.  And I applied it more liberally in the area that any guy wouldn’t want ticks crawling.  After my skin started to peel, I went back to the doctor.  He treated my chemical burns (2^nd or 3^rd degree – doesn’t matter), and I had to treat it for months to come.

Though I had already decided to ask Kristen to marry me, I knew then and there that no one else would put up with me, laugh with (and at) me – like Kristen.  Even when she gets ticked off!

I Love a Parade

By Troy Foster

Yesterday, we celebrated the Fourth of July by heading out to a local community’s parade – probably like hundreds of thousands of people, if not more.  But unlike a lot of folks, yesterday was the first parade that I attended.  As a kid, we just didn’t.  As I got older, the opportunity never really presented itself.  But now that we have kids and friends that have kids, it was perfect.  So, we took our four kids and met our family friends to watch the parade. 

And, I saw it through the eyes of a child in many respects.  Now, I’ve seen parades on TV, but being there is something very different.   You get to see and feel the marchers’ enthusiasm, and despair (when they realize that they aren’t close to being done and it’s just getting hotter).  The sights and sounds of folks celebrating their community is equally exciting.  The Chinese Cultural Center was of great interest to us because of our daughter, Lily.  Seeing the veterans was touching, and it was an honor to salute them – in person.  I even loved the folks throwing candy, and seeing the silly acts pass by.

It was great fun.  And the best part was sharing the same experience, in much the same way, with our kids.

I definitely love a parade.