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Wayne Gray

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Blog Entries posted by Wayne Gray

  1. Wayne Gray
    I've been faithfully working out and using a new program for about four months now. This program is from the "Average to Jacked" guy on YouTube (look him up - he's pleasant to look at). And I can boil down his entire mindset/training principle to two words: Progressive Overload.
    In this program, Progressive Overload is integral to the body's adaptation. If you always lift the same amount of weight the same amount of time, you won't progress. But if you push just a little more every time, you will.
    Today's routine was "Push". Triceps, Shoulders, Chest. And last week I'd managed to get 60-lb dumbbells locked out 10/10/9 times in incline DB Presses (three sets with 2 minutes of rest between). So today, the goal was 10s, all the way across. Sometimes I hit my old lift and spend another week or two trying to beat my old record. And frankly, I wasn't really feeling too confident I'd squeak by today. But I lay down and started. To my great surprise, I got 10s all the way across. Three sets. Good form. Not perfect, but good. That means something.
    Since I hit my goal, I'm now scheduled to try 65-lb dumbbells next Monday. I've literally never pushed those in my life. Not once. I've never dared even try. And now they're supposed to be my working weight. The idea is I'll drop the goal to 8 reps and see how I do with all three sets.
    I'm very careful to avoid injury, but my slow and steady progression is paying off. I'm 51, and I've never been stronger in my life.
    Am I jacked yet? No. Am I strong? Oh yeah. And that's just FUN.
  2. Wayne Gray
    I went to Kentucky. My brother's funeral was on Saturday, and I needed to be there for a number of reasons.
    Chief among them was my mother. She needed support. She needed to know she wasn't alone. She needed to know that Adam mattered.
    So I went.
    My sister and I met with Mom the morning before the funeral. It was scheduled for 10 AM, and we sat at her house with her for a couple of hours before heading to the funeral home.
    About a half hour before it was time to go, she looked at me. "Can you say something? At the funeral? It'd mean a lot to me if you did."
    There's only one answer.
    "Yeah. Of course."
    And I pull out my phone, and I start typing, hoping I can write something coherent through the weird blend of dread, sorrow, disappointment, and exhaustion. Something true, but not cruel. Something comforting, but not treacly. Something Adam would have liked.
    We get to the funeral home. It's surprisingly crowded. Given his troubled history, I think my brother would have been amazed to have drawn so many family and friends. And I have something written. The service begins. I'm scheduled between the song "Go Rest High on the Mountain" and the reading of his obituary.
    The song ends. I walk up onto the short stage, look out over the faces of kith and kin, and I remove my glasses. Expressions of the grieving are the enemy of a coherent delivery. And I begin.
    "Love is like air. You need it. It flows into and out of us. It connects us. We are made to give it and to receive it.

    We often don't realize when we have it. It's just there. Like breathing, it's just something natural. But, just like air, we sure know when we don't have it.
    Adam was loved. That started early. Growing up, I'd always been a little jealous of how Dad seemed to favor him. When work needed to happen, Dad took me. When he wanted a fishing buddy, he took Adam. What I had selectively forgotten was being a five-year-old boy, and throwing a monster fish dad had just caught back into the lake, and saying, 'Catch it again, Daddy, catch it again!' So, maybe Adam was the better fishing buddy after all. But, I digress.
    We all know, we can't stay kids forever. Adam grew up, and then he grew a family of his own.
    Of course, things changed. But not love. That remained. That you're all here proves that.
    A man knows when he is loved. What more can we ask out of life than that?
    Adam was my brother. And I loved him."
    Imperfect words for an imperfect soul. But it was the best I could do.
     
  3. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    I got a call from my sister this morning.
    "Bub, they found Adam unresponsive. I'm not sure how he is, but I'll let you know. Mom is super upset, so I know it's bad. Love you. I'll call soon."
    A few minutes passed ... then the phone vibrated with a text. Two words.
    "He's gone."
    My brother died today.
    My brother is gone.
  4. Wayne Gray
    As a writer, I love hidden meanings. As a reader, I love them even more - particularly when I stumble on them myself.
    So, it was with great joy that I inserted one into one of my stories. Once someone sees it, they'll KNOW. No guessing required. It'll be that obvious once discovered.
    It wasn't hard to do, but apparently it was (is!) hard to detect. It has been years now, and no one has found it. Or, if they have, they've yet to comment on it.
    So my question is: have you done something similar? Have you taken something you've made and hidden a little easter egg? And watched as people either discover it, or don't? It could be art, music, knitting, a story, a poem, or anything else requiring a bit of creativity.
    At the time, I felt so clever! Now, I just wonder if I had a reason to. LOL
    So, share with me. Tell me your clever schemes hiding in plain sight. That way, I can improve my own skills in a game that only I knew I was playing. Haha.
  5. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    Warning: I'm about to geek out over working out. Move on if you aren't interested. LOL   I've got the habit now. Getting up early, going to the gym, and getting that handled 4-5 days a week is now something I just do. I used to be extrinsically motivated by results. I needed to SEE changes to keep doing what I needed to do. But I'm past that. It's just something I do (which helps with consistency).   But after using a new workout system called "Average to Jacked" for two months, I've begun noticing changes.   The scale hasn't really budged. That used to be my big measure of success, but my body seems incredibly adept at holding onto mass. Yet I have noticed other things.   Clothes are fitting better. More room in the waist, less room across the chest in my shirts, tighter pants across my quads, and tighter sleeves on my arms. I could take measurements, as I have my starting ones, but I've yet to do so. It hasn't felt necessary, since I don't need it to keep going. I'm intrinsically motivated now after years of working out, so I don't need external validation.   But I got it today. And I admit, it felt really good.   Wednesdays are "bonus" days for me. I hit all of the oddball muscle groups I don't focus on during the rest of the week, and one of those is the traps (trapezius). And my exercise of choice for those is shrugs. I've slowly worked up the row of Dumbbells until I'm at the end of the rack at 75lbs. And today, I picked them up and glanced at the mirror right in front of me.   And ... I looked like someone who actually works out. There was no doubt. Big arms. Bulging shoulders. Tight traps and chest. Firm core. Even through my clothes, I could see it. Yeah, I know it was under a load, and that isn't how I look all the time. But it was still all me.   For the previous few years, I had never noticed changes like this before. I really think this new system pushed me beyond my limits, especially in my upper body. One of the weird things it recommends is to get as many reps as possible in the first set of every exercise. And I feel that pushing to failure (or very close) on that first set is what makes the rep/set scheme different and worthwhile. It makes me adapt in ways I've never had to before.   I'm excited by what I've seen today. It feels good to see a reward for hard work. Finally.
  6. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    Well, we knew it'd happen.
    This week, I've been tapped by our CFO to help in a dispute against one of the federal regulatory agencies governing us and our funding. The short of it is this: an audit found they had overpaid us for our lab expenses to the tune of $200,000 a year for five years. In other words, they planned to shave a cool million off our next payment and withhold $200,000 a year from here on.
    The reasons are utterly bogus. Claiming we're double-dipping. Part of that is claiming our low reference lab costs must be due to us billing patients. This is actually because I implemented a process to rebill insurance after the first denial, which knocked our lab bills down from $15,000/month to $2,000/month. So they're trying to penalize us for doing BETTER than average with the funding we received.
    This is a way for the federal government to wrest money away from federally funded clinics without legislation. Without any kind of law changes. Just abuse of the audit system, and hope clinics just fold.
    We're taking them to court to appeal.
    But currently, I've got a million-dollar anvil over my head. I'm the guy in charge of our labs. If we somehow lose this appeal, then that information will go to the board of directors. And they'll ask the guy in charge of the labs what happened.
    Our appeal is on Tuesday.
    I've provided all the information asked of me to our CFO and lawyer.
    So.
    I'm going to get drunk now.
  7. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    Yesterday, I visited my tattooist.
    I had given him the parameters for a new tattoo. I wanted the inclusive pride flag, tattered and marred but still flying. And with it, the symbol of the Social Democratic Party of 1932 Germany. The Social Democratic Party was the only real opposition to Hitler and the nazis (the only party to vote against the Enabling Act responsible for the authority Hitler gained to send people to their deaths in concentration camps). Though ultimately defeated, they fought hard, and I'm proud to bear their mark.
    Plus, it's just a badass tattoo.

  8. Wayne Gray
    Yesterday, my clinic system had an emergency meeting. That's because we're an FQHC - Federally Qualified Health Center, and about 40% of our patient population has Medicaid as their coverage (insurance). Medicaid is how these people pay for their healthcare - everything from vaccinations to pregnancy care to emergency visits. Medicaid literally saves millions of lives from preventable deaths every year.
    The trump administration attempted to freeze all federal grants yesterday. And for a moment, it did. Even though he exceeded his authority granted by the constitution, the GOP in the legislative branch merely watched as this order trickled down from their despotic orange messiah and caused utter chaos in the nation.
    Headstart programs couldn't fund their teachers, hospitals, and clinics couldn't pay staff, VA loans stopped being approved or cut off mid-process, VA benefits for students ceased, SNAP benefits stopped (their cards stopped working and people couldn't buy food), Pell Grants for students stopped, housing assistance went unpaid, FEMA claims went unpaid.
    The memo detailing this overreach of executive power called out many of the programs that were affected. The memo said they would NOT be. However, what we saw did not line up with the message. Every Medicaid portal, one for every state, was offline (that's how institutions get paid by Medicaid). These are not on a single system either, each state has their own, so this was intentional or incompetence on an incredible scale. Either is unforgivable.
    Now, Idaho House Republicans have passed a resolution urging the Supreme Court to overturn marriage equality. I'm watching videos of "Latinos for Trump" cry because their spouses were rounded up by ICE and deported. I'm watching the GOP try and pressure Costco and other privately owned corporations to give up their DEI programs. Small government indeed.
    I hope that when trump takes away life-saving medical care, food, school funding, the capacity to buy a house, and deports loved ones, that those who voted for him know their place in all of this—you FAFO. Now, we all get to pay.
  9. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    Do you know that axiom, "If you love something, sometimes the best thing you can do is let it go."? I've appreciated it but never considered what it means on more than a superficial level.
    Well ... that has changed.
    I'm in an open relationship with my husband. I'm polyamorous, and he accepts that. He and I have each other, and we each have a boyfriend. My boyfriend is a super sweet, lovely guy named Matthew. We've been together now for about three years.
    While camping with Matthew a couple of weeks back, he shared that he had decided to move back to St. Louis, where he had spent most of his adult life.
    It felt like I'd been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer.
    Our rural environment has deeply challenged Matthew. He struggles to find work or keep a job, but most importantly, there is a severe lack of robust mental healthcare here. He desperately needs that. I know all of this.
    As I sat there, processing what he'd just told me and trying to keep my feelings off my face, I also realized the deeper meaning of that axiom above.
    I know what it means now. So I smiled, put my arm around him, and told him that if that's what he needed to do, he should. He asked if I would be all right, and I lied without a split second of hesitation.
    "Yeah. I'll be fine."
    I've got him till mid-November, then he's gone.
    I'll miss him. But ... I love him. So that's how it has to be.
  10. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    As anyone who read my last entry knows, I like to work out. It's something calming, something I control, and it is therapeutic in ways nothing else is in my life. So during today's lunchtime, I strolled out past our garden to our garage. I offhandedly noted that Kevin had been working on the garden, and caught the barest scent of the chicken manure he'd used in his raised beds. No biggie. It wasn't too bad, and I was raised on a farm - I had smelled far worse.
    I started my workout in our detached garage, the door open letting in the sun that had gloriously appeared. About five minutes in, I begin to sweat profusely, panting with exertion, and happy to be in command of my body - moving, and putting myself through my paces.
    That's when I also noticed that lovely chicken manure odor was just a bit stronger.
    Huh. Must be from the sun warming things up. No biggie.
    I keep going.
    Another five minutes go by, and I am truly pushing my limits. I'm in my happy place, heart thudding above 150 beats a minute, the concrete of the garage spattered with sweat. And that odor is now stronger and omnipresent.
    Oh, man. I hold my hand over my belly during my first break. Trying to moderate your breath so you don't gasp in lungfuls of chicken perfume while in a cardio challenge is not easy. And I alternate between gagging and gasping. Then I begin to laugh at my idiotic situation. Oh. Break over, time to start on the next set of exercises.
    I suffered another thirty minutes, somehow managing to avoid hurling. All the while I'm both laughing, and cursing at my husband.
    Anyway, I just wanted to share in the hopes you too can laugh at my expense.
  11. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    I think I've done it. After literally years of tinkering and trying different workouts, this week is the first time since I've turned forty that I've managed to work out five days in the same week, and not ended up with aching joints.
    My workout of choice had always been weightlifting. I love lifting so much. Change is dramatic, and you get out of it what you put in. There's nothing easy, and you have to push past your notions of what you can do. It's absolutely a mental challenge as well as a physical one, and I reveled in it. But I got to the point where a single upper body session meant three days to recover before I could do it again. Then four. Then a week. I was literally only able to work my upper body once a week due to all the pain in my shoulders.
    I turned to yoga and that helped. I faithfully did yoga for a year, and my shoulder pain evaporated to nothing. I also noticed great gains in flexibility and balance, yet I deeply missed lifting. Yoga, while good, wasn't enough.
    I tried sprinkling lifting back into the mix, just a day a week. As soon as I did, the day after the pain had returned, centered in the joint. So ... that's it. No more bench-press. No more shoulder press. No more upward rows. All those basic "push" and shoulder-heavy motions were non-starters.
    I thought about asking my doc for surgical options, but with a dismal success rate of shoulder repairs, I didn't bother. I kept looking for other solutions. I tried various bodyweight routines and some of those got close to the feeling lifting gave me. In the process of designing a bodyweight routine, I stumbled onto TRX.
    TRX leverages body weight to give me a workout that's core-focused, and extremely challenging. Most important? No shoulder pain. So long as I carefully stick to good form, I can actually go, and go HARD, as I had with lifting.
    I was still a little gun-shy after multiple injuries that each took months to heal. So I started with twice a week. After a month with no pain, I added another day. After another three months of that, I added one more. I spent half a year at four days a week, and slowly increased the session length to fifty-three minutes a session.
    This week I added a fifth session. Today was my fifth and last workout of the week, and I feel great. Tomorrow will tell the real story, but I think I've finally done it.
    TRX and Yoga. That's the answer for this 47-year-old. I've got a long way to go, but now that I know the path I'm on is sustainable, I know I'll get there.
    Getting older is an adjustment, and I've had to learn to be patient with my changing capacities. But I like where I'm headed now. I know I'll have to adjust again as time goes on, and as my body feels the effects of accumulating years, but I'm confident I can manage it now. Yeah. I can do this.
    Anybody out there who is struggling with this sort of thing, I feel for you. Almost everyone can be active in some way, shape or form. It may not take the shape of what you want or expect, but there's something that'll probably work. Start with reasonable goals. Be patient. Be consistent. And if you want help getting started, you can ask me for basic ideas/tips. I have experimented on my own body for literally decades, and I've a good idea of what to do and what will work.
    Good luck on your journey, wherever it may lead.
  12. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    Looking at all of the numbers related to the Delta and Omicron variants, I suspected since I'm in healthcare and my husband is in one of those "Essential Services" positions with lots of customer service interaction, that it was only a matter of time before we got hit. The night before, I felt ... odd. Cold. I went to bed dressed in a sweater, sweat pants, a knit cap and two pairs of socks. I woke the next day to largely the same symptoms. But I was feeling mostly okay - to the point where I debated working out or not (really glad I didn't!).
    Then we got a text from our friend, Matthew. We'd hung out with him on Thursday, and he texted to say he was sick, and positive. So. I pulled out our home antigen kits, and tested Kevin and I.
    Mine was barely positive after about twelve minutes. But coupled with the fever, I knew it was right. Kevin's converted positive within thirty seconds (with a fifteen minute incubation, so he has a LOT of antigen, or virus).
    Honestly, I think Kevin already had it from his interactions through work. He had minor symptoms (thank you vaccine!) for a while, and we did test him a few days prior to these events. He was negative then, but it was likely because he didn't have enough virus built up.
    Last night I still felt mostly okay. I thought, well, I can just work from home. I have evals to do, and I can do those from here. Then I went to bed. Shortly after I got up, and pulled out a space heater. I set it up right by the bed and cranked it. Before going back to bed I took my temp again. 101.4F. So. Yeah, this thing is definitely nasty. And no, I won't be doing evals or work today. I have way too much brain fog for that.
    But ... I know we'd have been so screwed without the vaccine. We'd have probably survived, and ultimately been okay, but I don't have any desire to have this drag on for weeks, or develop "long COVID" symptoms.
    Anyhow, I'm going to go back to bed. You guys all stay well.
  13. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    The chapter I'm currently writing has this scene. It's a scene with a therapist and her client, and I am trying to portray her as clever, caring, and deeply insightful. I mean far more insightful than I could ever be. And let me tell you, that's tricky business.
    So I'm faking it. I get the luxury of time, while she has to deal with someone sitting across from her, and she is having to think on her feet. What takes me writing and rewriting, and hours of thought, she does in moments.
    I guess it's true, I am just as smart as she is. I mean, she came from me, right? The only difference is Naomi is smart at full speed.
    Pretty big difference. LOL
    But it's so fun writing her. God ... she really is clever. I love when secondary characters shine like this.
    Onward.
  14. Wayne Gray

    Writing
    There's this album by "The Decemberists", and it's called The Hazards of Love. The first time I heard it, I didn't know it was an epic. It's a story, and it's told from song one to seventeen, in order.
    The title fits as well as a tailored glove. It's not all good, and it even ends in ... well, nevermind. I'll let you listen to find out.
    Regardless, a couple of days ago, I had this scene slam into my head. If you want to read the unedited, raw scene, it's here. In it, we watch someone suffer through one of the hazards of love, and it's not exactly pretty.
    Still, people go on. Some are forever changed, but they go on. And from that scene, I've outlined an entire story, and titled it The Hazards of Love.
    Loving is a risk, after all. But if we're brave enough to face the Hazards of Love, maybe we can win something wonderful.
    My outline is almost done. Then the real work starts.
  15. Wayne Gray
    I've been working on a new sort of story, a sort I've never really written.
    I'm writing a story about a "what if" scenario. It's a tale, set in a world much like our own, with one key difference. That is, it's written in a world where Love is Love. Where healthy relationships of all kinds are simply accepted, and there's no social pressure to be something you're not supposed to be.
    The difference is actually quite profound. I have to think about it. I have to constantly rewrite bits, because my protagonists shouldn't angst over some of the things my characters in other stories have. They're just allowed to be.
    What a world that'd be. Where the only struggles a pair of guys have to becoming a couple are the same struggles a man and a woman would have.
    I'm on chapter seven. I figure I've probably got another four to five chapters to go before I'm done, and I'm looking forward to watching them make this journey together.
    Really, it's the journey we should all have the choice to make - regardless of who we choose to walk the path with us.
  16. Wayne Gray
    A reader emailed an article written by a woman detailing her struggles finding acceptance for both herself and her partner. The story details them sort of falling into life in an RV, and making their own path. It's a great read, and she has wonderfully perceptive views. Take a look.
    Gay and Lesbian RV Living
    After I read it, I was curious; I followed the link in the article to the campground in Florida called The Sawmill.
    And there it is. A warmer, sunnier, more tanned, though less social-justice leaning version of the campground in my series, Camp Refuge.
    The Sawmill is a place to party. It's a place to go, have fun outdoors, eat good food, socialize with others. But that's not all it is, and I'll explain why.
    The simple fact remains, we have to be careful where we display affection. We have to have constant situational awareness, and assess if a peck on the cheek, or holding the hand of the person we love will cost too much moment to moment.
    But at a place like this campground, we can just be. We can have fun with people like us, and do so unafraid. Even though the focus of the place is "party and party hard" it still offers a respite.
    It makes me want to make Camp Refuge real. I mean, I've never stopped wanting that, but yeah ... this has poked that desire and whispered, "See? If they can do it, so can you."
    Someday.
  17. Wayne Gray

    Blog
    My husband and I had our first night out in over a year in a physically distanced, but indoor dining situation. We went to a spot we love - a little, intimate place with dark, burnt orangey walls, ferrous-stained concrete floors with these glorious cracks filled with rust, and of course a terrific menu.
    The servers all wore masks, and all the patrons did too until served. Between courses we masked up again, and were all more than six feet apart from other tables. To add a bit of security, I've been fully vaccinated, but more important ... it has been two weeks since Kevin had received his first shot. By now he has built antibodies, and studies have shown even with the first of what will be two doses, he's protected from severe illness.
    So we took a chance. We went out to support one of our favorite little places, and to just ... be.
    We followed all the guidance. And as we sat there, eating our food and chatting, I watched my husband just ... I don't know. I watched him ... god, it's so hard to assign a word to it. I guess "hope" is the closest. Yeah, that'll have to do. It's a simple but sublime thing, hope. But I got to see it tonight in the man I love the most.
    We're close. We really are. Even with the variants, even with the mutations prevalent in all RNA viruses, we're close.
    Allow for hope. We're almost there.
  18. Wayne Gray
    Caution: Some personal stuff concerning sex and sexuality is in this post. The reason I post it is for my own thought process, and with the idea that it may prompt other guys to go get tested if they're having problems. That said, here we go.
    I'm not very evolved when it comes to some things, I suppose.
    I fully accept that there are men out there born genetically female. That's not at issue. I don't define their maleness; my role in knowing and supporting trans folks is to acknowledge their definition, not to superimpose my own.
    Selfishly, this is all about me. It's about my self-perception, and what I feel I bring to my relationships with my husband and Sam.
    I am attracted to a very limited set of examples of the human condition; that being Cis men. People who are pansexual or bisexual confound me. Like ... they've found some secret I'll never quite discover. Some within our community call out men who are purely attracted to Cis men as being trans-phobic. But that's just not it. If I could shift my attraction to include someone other than a Cis guy, then I'd have shifted until I were straight. No Kentucky-raised kid in his right mind chooses to be gay. I'd have been just like I was "supposed" to be.
    So those are my limitations. I talk about this because they're important to know before getting to the rest of this post.
    Back late last year, I began to have trouble. Lack of desire, depressed a great many days, in a real and true funk. I felt like I was no longer the man my husband needed, and really? Well, that hurt more than anything. That's the whole reason I pushed us to open things up a bit. I wanted my husband to get laid again, even if it wasn't with me. Before anyone says "sex isn't everything," yes ... you're right. But it's very important to us; that connection is deeply critical to us as a couple. Maybe more proof of a lack of evolution. But I've yet to evolve not needing the other biological drives either. Why sex is different is beyond me.
    Anyway, we met Sam. The newness of him sparked things for me, and for a while I managed to stave off what became inevitable. After a few more months, I got to the point of no desire at all. Nothing. And that was so eerie. It's like knowing how delicious a bite of cake will be, but you no longer care about experiencing anything delicious.
    Finally, I went to the doctor. I found out I had the testosterone of a ninety-year-old man (I was forty-five at the time). He started me on the lowest dose medically prescribed of injected testosterone.
    Odd things began to happen shortly after I started the regimen. Within a couple of hours, the first thing I noticed was stuff was ... ah ... tingly. You can laugh. I know I did. I even looked it up, and sure enough, that's a common side effect of treatment. But ... only in guys who are actually low. The body has this resource it needed again, and suddenly it is put to work. Another nearly immediate effect, was this weird fog I had sort of lifted. It was like I had been operating at 95% as my base level for so long, it became "normal." Now things click faster, I spend less effort on complex problems. I'm back at 100%, and it feels so nice.
    I also began to finally notice strength gains in my workouts. Who knew that having a normal testosterone helped with weight lifting? Well, I did, but still.
    But what about sex? I mean, that's the big reason for getting tested in the first place.
    It didn't happen right away. It took a few months of my body figuring things out again. I am not exactly patient either, so my poor Doctor had to endure quite a few messages from me about it, and all the gory details. He kept telling me to "just be patient. Stop trying so hard. It'll happen."
    He was right. I feel now like I did when I was in my early thirties. My levels are dead center of normal range for a guy my age, and I have way fewer "dark" days. Importantly, I feel like I am, again what Kevin needs.
    The whole thing taught me a lot. It taught me about my self-perception, and how deeply it's tied to the physicality of my body. It taught me that there will come a time when I will have to evaluate this "What Makes Me a Man" question again, and maybe a different answer will be necessary down the line. It taught me that a relationship isn't defined by monogamy. But there's more too.
    A few weeks ago, while laying with my husband I asked what we'd do if something happens again, and I can't be "fixed". Kevin lay there for a bit. "We'll figure it out. We already did once, we'll do it again." Just that. Simple. Uncomplicated. Then he ruined it as he turned with a smirk on his face. "Besides, there's no fixing you. You're a wreck!"
    I guess, ultimately this whole experience taught me that I am indeed a wreck. Yet, my husband loves me anyway.
  19. Wayne Gray
    I have a meeting every Monday morning. In that meeting, we discuss SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, and specifically news and our response to the virus.
    Today the following information was released by our medical director, based on a huge sample study of folks who had been previously infected
    Concerning reinfection: To date, we have proof that five of thirty-eight million people have been reinfected by SARS-CoV-2.  This means once someone gets the virus and recovers, then they're functionally immune, and reinfection is anomalous.

    That's amazing news that I really needed. I wanted to share it, in case it can help someone else out there.
  20. Wayne Gray
    I manage medical labs. Part of that management is I decide which tests ordered by our providers are integrated into our EMR (electronic medical record). Some will never be "mapped," as it's called, because they're esoteric, or just too rarely ordered; it takes effort and time to do this mapping, so we pick and choose which get added.
    Well at the request of a number of providers who particularly like this odd genetic-based test for cancer screening, I began the process of mapping this new item.
    Part of that mapping process includes digging up something called CPT codes assigned to the testing. So I contact the company. I ask for the codes, as they're not available on their website (an oddity I could overlook). This lady tells me, "Oh the CPT codes change based on payor. You know, the insurance."
    I sat there a moment, then finally found my voice. "So ... what you're telling me is based on how good someone's insurance is, your organization is picking and choosing which procedures to run, completely apart from the legal orders submitted by the provider?"
    Silence for a good twenty seconds. "Uh," *whispering to someone* "I think I need to give you to my supervisor."
    "That sounds great."
    "Please hold."
    "Sure."
    I'm put on hold. Five minutes later I get a guy. "Hi, I hear you have questions about our test?"
    "I sure do." I repeat my question, and add, "Feel free to tell me I'm wrong. Because unlicensed individuals making medical judgments based on financial situations is antithetical to everything my organization stands for. So I'd love to be able to tell my medical directors that isn't happening."
    Silence. Finally, a cleared throat. "I feel as if there's no good way to answer your question at the moment. I'll have to do some research and get back to you. May I have your phone number?"
    "Sure."
    I hung up after I gave him my number.
    Here we are. This ... right here, is why for profit healthcare is an abomination.
    Edit: 18 June 2020 - Still no call. I've dropped this into the lap of our compliance officer. He's talking about turning them over to CMS (the folks governing MediCal - California's version of Medicaid) for fraud. That could end them entirely if CMS decides to go after them. Good riddance.
  21. Wayne Gray
    Do you really want to know who I am?
    Or do you want the carefully edited version of who I want you to see? Of who I expect you'll want to see?
    Because the real me? Well, he's doughtful, and questi0oning, and drunk, and scared. And he doesn't really know what tomorrow will bnring.
    Reality is niot clean or carefully designed. It simply is. And if you can't handle  that, then you should unfollow this imperfect vessel. And maybe follow someone who will more careully alighn himselrf with what you expect of an author of stories, tales, and maybe even legends.
    I'm not that.
    I'm just me. Ugly, flawed and real. I know ... that's just awfulness wrapped in a pretty bow. 
    If you want a cracked ghem with a tight band of leathe4r wrapped 'round, to hold it all together ...
    Well, I'm your man...
  22. Wayne Gray
    "My batteries are almost gone, and it's getting dark."
    This was the slightly-romanticized description of the last transmission from the little, tenacious rover, Opportunity, on the planet Mars. It had been there and operating for fifteen years - thirteen beyond the wildest dreams of NASA engineers. It heavily depended on solar power, and over time the dust storms on the planet slowly covered its solar cells. That last transmission came when a planet-wide dust storm hit. The rover sent the transmission, then did what its programming told it to do - shut down, and hope when the dust cleared, enough light would fall on it to revive it. Though engineers in Florida, California, and Texas all knew ... it was the last time we would hear from the little machine.
    I think about those words and how poignant they are. Even though they were attached to a hunk of metal, plastic and carbon, there were so many lives involved in creating, assembling, rooting for, and mourning their speaker.
    I can't help but draw comparisons. A lot of people right now are pretty low. Batteries are empty. The only thing keeping them going is that maybe tomorrow will be a little brighter. What we do to and for others matters - perhaps now more than at any other time in our lives. We have the power to make the light in the lives of those around us.
    I know there are days where I can't. I can't. I can barely lift my head, and I have to force myself to work, eat, and function. Those aren't the days to give anything of myself. Instead, there are uplifting messages, conversations, and positivity from people I've tried to lift on my better days. Sometimes, when it's darkest in my world, someone I love shares their light with me.
    And so it goes.
    Unlike Opportunity, when I cry out, "My batteries are almost gone, and it's getting dark," someone shares their light.
    Just as I will for them.
  23. Wayne Gray
    I never thought I'd be playing God.
    I manage twelve small clinical labs, including the staff that go along with them. I plotted out minimum staffing levels to run each. I asked for volunteers to go on unemployment while our business contracted, and patients stopped coming in for routine visits. The idea, so beautifully expressed on paper, was to have those "extra" staff waiting - out of the line of fire, and hopefully staying healthy away from the front lines of this epidemic.
    One of those front-line staff has been hovering on the edge of sick for a week. Yesterday, it was worse, and her temp climbed past the cut-off. We sent her home, and she has been tested. We're now waiting on results.
    Her relief is a mother of two small children who has asthma. I called her this morning.
    "Hey. Good morning. I need you at the clinic on 10th."
    "Good morning, Wayne. Okay." She says something to someone in the room, then comes back to the phone. "I'll be a little late, I just need to get the baby set up for my husband."
    "No problem. Take your time. I'll let the site administrator know the lab will open a little late." I pause, debating. How bad would it be if that lab stayed closed? This particular clinic is right on the plaza area in town. It's a place where homeless and the worst off in the county congregate, even now ... since they don't have anywhere else to go. I'd essentially take medical services from them if we closed this lab. To keep it open, I'm asking her to risk her health ... considering her condition, potentially her life. I clear my throat. "Hey. Thanks for working."
    I listen as she takes a breath. "It's what we do, right?"
    "Yeah. Be safe. Let me know if you run low on masks, I'll steal from other sites if I have to get them to you."
    "Thanks, Wayne. I'll be online soon. See you then."
    She hung up.
    I don't like playing God.
  24. Wayne Gray
    I do not need this right now. I am so freaking busy. But ...
    - Scene - I am seated around a table with one of our medical directors (Kelvin), my boss (Stacy) and our risk manager (Koreen).
    "Wayne, do you have an update on turn around times for LabCorp COVID-19 samples?"
    *I am idly scratching an itch on my neck* "LabCorp is saying their turn around is three days, but it's averaging more like six. Regardless of what we're being told, it's six."
    Koreen pipes up. "Should we include this in the messaging going out to providers? What do you think --"
    "Wait." Kelvin stands up and leans over toward me. He's staring at my neck.
    "What?" I frown and look askance at the medical director.
    Kelvin grabs my hand and moves it. There are little gasps from both Stacy and Koreen. "Wayne, are you breathing okay?"
    "What!? Yes! Why?"
    "Raise your pantleg. Roll up your sleeves. Now. Do it now." He's tiny, but very insistent.
    I do. There's a massive rash all over my limbs, neck, all the exposed skin.
    "You're having an allergic reaction." Kelvin looks at my boss. "Stacy, do you have Benadryl?"
    I get a big dose of Benadryl, then I'm promptly run out of the building before the medication hits me.
    I think I'm gonna sleep well tonight.
    Or, maybe in a few minutes.
  25. Wayne Gray
    The coronavirus is large and in charge in the news cycles right now. Since I work in healthcare, it's sort of center-stage in my world. I'll say this now - though I work in medicine, I am not an expert in virology or epidemiology. However, I have access to both of those types of experts, and I listen very closely to what they're saying.
    The overall messaging is: It's likely that there will be a worldwide pandemic. It's likely that there will be a huge disruption of services, due to how many people will be sick at once. It's likely most people will recover with no treatment - so long as basic needs for food and water are met.
    The virus ranges in severity from that of an annoying cold, to SARS level illness. Severity seems heavily linked to overall health of the sick person before they displayed symptoms.
    People forget that influenza can be deadly, and that circulates every year. The difference here is COVID-19 has no herd immunity in our populations. Meaning, if you're exposed, and the virus makes it into your respiratory system, then you will likely come down with the bug.
    You can protect yourself. Wash your hands. It's the top way to stay healthy. Yes, really. Stay away from those you know are ill if you can. If you can't, ensure you're not coughed on by anyone with symptoms, and use hand sanitizer/handwashing after you leave the sick person's area. Also wash your hands before applying make up, eating, or using lip balm.
    If you do get sick, communicate with your local public health department, and your primary care physician. You will likely be asked to self-isolate if it's determined that you have COVID-19.
    I know this all probably sounds scary, but ... this is not E.bola. My working in healthcare means no matter my precautions I'll probably end up catching this thing, and I'm not afraid. I've looked at the numbers and panic isn't warranted.
    Don't take my word for it. Look to the experts, those who have spent their entire lives studying for this very moment.
    Coronavirus 2019 CDC Information
    WHO Coronavirus 2019 Information
    Be sensible, watchful, and proactive, and soon this thing will burn itself out.
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