Pulmonary: The Air That I Breathe (Revisited)

As I learn to deal with and accept what will define me, my life, and my legacy going forward, I’ve been spending a lot of time looking back. Specifically, I am looking back on both where I have lived my life as well as HOW I’ve lived my life.

One thing this has led me to do is research photos of what Philly used to be. I actually started doing this in preparation for writing a blog post I will have up in the next day or two about the demise of a real moviegoing experience. But as I’ve searched for photos of theaters that were important to the area as well as were instrumental in my growing up, I’ve opened my thoughts to much more.

As I searched for those movie palace memories, I found so many wonderful photos and documents of the amazing history of Philadelphia and I am not ashamed to say that I’ve thrillingly wasted a lot of time recently marveling at these photos. Like the one above.

The above picture is from 1910, and is a shot of City Hall from East Market Street in Philadelphia. That looks like the Lit Brothers building on the right.

First of all, I love this shot. The way it is composed, how brilliant the black and white is, how the framing gives it a great panorama, and how it shows a city growing into the 20th Century.

I love everything about it. Well, there is one thing that I do not like. Take a close look at City Hall Tower. The tower portion was about 11 years old when this photo was taken. Looking closely at the tower, you’ll see that in a single decade, the tower is now covered in blackness. It wasn’t designed that way. The blackness is the result of coal dust and other airborne pollutants prevalent in Philly at the start of the 20th Century. The coal dust is from heating homes as well as the major railroad industry here, among other things.

A Baldwin Locomotive manufactured in Philadelphia

It makes for a dramatic photo, but imagine Billy Penn on top of the tower actually being you on the street. While you may have adhered to the hygiene rules of the time, you can only imagine how this affect not only healthy people, but those who were ill. This is not a political rant (if you follow me on Twitter @adimike55, you will get plenty of my political views. Hint: I don’t ride an elephant.).

However, while this is a century ago, these things can exist and damage even today if unchecked. We still haven’t figured out what caused my lung scarring, but it is obvious that it was something inhaled by this vehement non-smoker. These things affect others as well and need to be kept well in check.

Billy Penn is still standing on the City Hall Tower today, even having undergone numerous baths in his lifetime. He can go strong, and he can go on forever.

I cannot.

Because of my Interstitial Lung Disease, I can no longer work like I used to. My mind is still strong but my stamina has diminished. In addition, an imperfect storm that combines my lungs, the current state of unemployment and lack of jobs, and my age (56) works to affect me beyond my ability to breathe. At my age under normal conditions, I could look forward to at least 10 more productive years at work. However, since my disease is progressive, there is no guarantee as to how long I could continue at any job if one was offered.

While I bring a ton of accomplishment and experience to the table for any job, am employer who wanted something long term probably doesn’t want to retrain me only to lose me quickly.

So, I search for relevance. I search for personal accomplishment. I search for me.

The photo above has rekindled my desire to get myself a good camera and just start documenting life as I see it. I’ve never been a photographer, but I can learn and on my own schedule. I have an iPhone and use Instragram but I’ve taken that about as far as it can go. Point and shoot cameras just don;t feel like a camera.

I love black and white photography and I love shots that capture life. Not a fan of the “say cheese” type of photo. I want people in my picture but I want them full of spirit, not posing.

I also want this to rekindle the creativity I used to apply to my previous jobs. I want a black and white life to add vibrancy to my own. And I want to create a piece of myself that I can share with all around me and beyond.

First, I have to solve the problems of finding a good camera that I can afford, since medical bills are priority one. Then, I need to share this desire with those who can advise and help me grab a piece of my life forever.

Then, I can feel like me again. You will marvel at what “me” can do.

Philadelphia City Hall, Founders Week 1908

Tires Used To Be Simple

This is a tire. Notice its unique qualities. First, it is flat only on the bottom. Second, it is not on the car itself. Third, it is occupying the space where the spare tire would normally patiently await in the dark recesses of my trunk.

Now, the tire isn’t the main focus of this picture. That focus would be the small crack on the wheel rim. You can’t see it because the flat tire still hugs it. The crack is smaller that a Munchkin’s crack.

However, little things cause big problems.

They cause you to have multiple people remind you that you have a flat (yes I know Thankyouverymuch. Sigh).

They cause you call AAA to give directions to a parking lot that you have no idea what the address is. When that happens, I tend to overcompensate by giving landmarks nearby. I am tour guide descriptive of the landmarks. Fodor’s would be jealous.

They cause you to sit in a strange parking lot waiting for AAA to arrive. BTW, they were there in 15 minutes. Suck it, Domino’s. They are faster than you.

They cause you to realize that this is now an ex- tire, as incapable of holding air as New England Patriot receivers are of holding onto Tom Brady’s passes. Isn’t that right, Giselle ?

They cause you to have to put on something charitably known as a “donut tire”. Cars used to have full size spares until the auto manufacturers thought that downsizing the spare was the best idea since in-dash 8-track players.

Donut tires come with rules. Do not drive faster than 50 miles an hour. Do not take it on a highway. Don’t get it wet. Do not feed it after midnight. Do not remove tag under penalty of law.

And they cause you to realize that your particular car just happens to be a model that requires a “special order” for a “reconditioned” wheel rim.

And that it still will run over $160. So, now that my bank account will be reconditioned to a lower amount, I get to drive on a mini- tire and have everybody look and say ” Gee, did you have a flat?” like there might also be a possibility that I would not actually know that I have a toy tire on my car.

So that’s my day courtesy of my right front passenger tire. Wait, is it a 17 or 19 inch rim? My brain is now flat.

I’m In The Mood For ???

What AM I in the mood for? Hmmmm.

The above picture is a box of “mood rings”. These rings prove, above all else, that people will buy any crap. Mood rings started in the fad crazy 70’s and originally sold for up to $250. However as with all great fads, the king of 70’s mass market fads, K-Tel wound up selling its own cheaper version.

The mood ring worked on the theory that it could reflect changes in body temperature and those changes were in response to your mood. Scientific miracles like this were always scoffed at and relegated to the “what were we thinking” dust bin, like trolls and pet rocks.

If these worked, mine would have been really confused this week. To start, mood is a pretty way of saying “emotions”. While the Bee Gees sang about them and Smokey Robinson seconded them, they are moods. When you have them, you are moody. You can be in a sentimental mood, in a sullen mood, in an elated mood. However, when you show your emotions, you are “angry”, “ sad”. “upset”, “happy” and the ever popular “pissed off”.

Yep, moods are much fancier than plain old emotions.

I get moods a lot anymore. I can go through many of them in just a day. And I am not alone. Everyone gets them. They can manifest themselves as quick change artists, with mood swings caused by being told “all lines are busy, please listen to music on hold” or seeing a long line when you want to grab a quick breakfast at Wawa.

Adding in my lung disease, my moods take themselves seriously. They not only host themselves in me but they also delight in confusing those around me. The worst part is that no matter how you explain them, moods are yours and yours alone, and the reasons for them may not be easily explained or shared.

Back to me, my favorite subject.

The moods or emotions that I am going through are not that different from what I manifested when I was healthy and working. However, the triggers have changes, as have the anxieties behind them. Much of my moods come from what I now can or cannot hope to do with my new progressive limitations.

Envy becomes one of my buddy moods. Envy not of a particular situation but of the thought that similar opportunities may never be available to me again. When I was in the video business, I made numerous trips to various industry conferences where I got to network with a lot of great retailers and learn from them. My association with the VSDA/EMA, the industry trade groups also allowed me to meet movers, shakers, and stars of all types. (My greatest day was when I met both Jeff Bridges and Robert Duvall on the same day at the VSDA Convention in LV).

I got that same feeling while watching HARDBALL WITH CHRIS MATTHEWS yesterday. They were set up just outside of the Cruise Terminal in Miami and it was on a Monday. As they were broadcasting, a Royal Caribbean liner left port. I had cruised out of there in 2007 with about 100 other video retailers for a 4 day conference that also allowed me my first view of Mexico. It was also my first chance to test my weight loss and stamina from my gastric bypass that year. I was able to climb all over the ruins at Tulum Mexico like a kid, something I had not been able to do for years. Color my mood “giddy”

I don’t get those opportunities anymore since I no longer have that “connection”. I thought of that as I followed the exploits of some people that I met last year through our mutual love of the TNT series FALLING SKIES. SciFi and TV Bloggers all, they made a quick trip to Vancouver BC to visit the set and meet one of the most talented and most accessible cast ever on TV. They saw secrets that they cannot yet reveal and got to have the kind of shared experiences that I used to treasure.

While this could manifest itself in an emotion called “envy”, it actually had made me feel “pride” in that the opportunities still exist for people who I really appreciate as well as for people who have my work ethic, which is to do what you love and do it well. Yep, I am proud to say I know them and that I appreciate their work.

Of course, the melancholy mood cannot completely go away. It comes up when I realize that it has been over three years since I’ve had a vacation or traveled any farther than Harrisburg. It has been three years since I’ve gotten together with video retailers to share and learn. It’s been three years since I’ve been on a plane.

In short, it has been almost three years since I’ve felt relevant like in those melancholy days. However, it has given rise to a new mood best described as “determined”. Determined is a two headed monster, since it involved both taming and finding out more about my interstitial lung disease, as well as determined to find a new relevance.

While I keep plugging away at those moods, my emotions will get the best of me, mainly frustration and wistfulness , with a healthy helping of crankiness (a hybrid mood if there ever was one). That will trigger corresponding emotions in those I surround myself with and those I hope to surround myself with.

As I go forward, color my mood ring “hopeful”.

One Year After My Dad

I’ll start this post off by admitting that this was not what I was writing. Oh, the general subject remains the same, but actions, reactions, and sentiments awakened can make things do a sweet 180 at times.

This past Sunday, January 15th, was the 1st Anniversary of the passing of my father. I’ve chronicled his illness and hospital stay in previous posts. I’ve also chronicled the impact it has had on me as I battle my ILD, my progressive lung disease. His passing refocused my own future (health and life) in a way that I am still figuring out.

However, this was the last special date in a long year of melancholy firsts, coming to terms with the missing spot at the dinner table, the chair in the living room, the passenger seat in my car, the empty booth at the diner that Dad loved. The missing presents under the tree, the missing buddy to watch the Phillies, Eagles, Sixers, and Flyers, the gentle voice quietly singing along to his favorite songs.

The man who I had hoped would still be there for me as my disease progressed.

This was the 1st Anniversary of his passing and therefore, it brought a year of reflection to a close. The year closed, but not without coincidence. It is just those coincidences that caused me to hold the post I was writing and start anew.

Basically, I was closing out a tough year, but Dad would have none of it.

To begin with, the previous Friday, we went to my brother’s house to celebrate my niece Lauren’s birthday. My brother Joe always has a full house of friends and family for these events and my sister-in-law Richarda makes sure that their plates are full of good food as well. My dad loved to go to these things because he would see kids, kids that he would love to be Grandfather to.

My dad normally sat in the corner of the couch, his dad belly protruding like a ledge and his white sneakers stretched out on the floor. Because he was older, he was served by others in the living room. This night, I was sitting at the end of the room and saw Lauren bring a piece of birthday cake in to give to the man with the white sneakers. I thought to myself that I hope Dad likes this cake. I then realized that it wasn’t Dad on the couch, it couldn’t be.

My sister Julie and my sister-in-law both had similar experiences that night. It was then that we realized that, as I said above, Dad loved these parties and he had no intention of letting the afterlife keep him from sharing birthday cake with loved ones.

Then, on Saturday, I stumbled upon a couple of DVD’s that I had burned years ago from our old VHS tapes of out trips to Disney World. The DVD I picked up was shot in 1989, and was of our family at the HOOP-DEE-DOO REVUE at Fort Wilderness as well as on the carousel in Fantasyland. My dad loved these trips, but this particular trip was even sweeter for him because my sister Julie and her daughter (my niece) Julle came along. Little Julie was around 3 years old and was having a grand time hooting and hollering.

Now grown up, Julie is planning her wedding to take place in Disney World (Like PopPop, like niece). The planning has been going on for a couple of weeks, and it has always been in the back of our minds that Dad would not be able to attend something he had always dreamed about. He loves Little Julie, called her PUMPKIN.

As we watched the carousel on the DVD, we were pleasantly surprised and deeply moved to see Dad, all smiles and wearing his ever-present cap. He was doing what he loved, helping his grandkids have a great time, in this case, holding onto Little Julie as she heads around the merry-go-round. The pure expression of happiness on his face and the excitement on hers were what Dad lived for. And by guiding us to the long forgotten DVD, he was telling us he will be right there with Julie on her wedding day.

Sunday was the anniversary, and my sister Julie and my brothers Tommy and Joe went with me up to my Dad’s gravesite in Morris Cemetary to reflect on this day. My brother Joe drove up separately and we met at the cemetery.

We were going to meet at a certain time, but as I approached Valley Forge, Joe informed us that he was running late. Julie, Tom, and I had time to kill, and were not sure what to do. So, I did what my dad would do. I made the next left off of Route 23 and proceeded to drive through Valley Forge.

Now, I’ve taken Rt 23 plenty of times over the years, but mostly as a way to get to or from Phoenixville. It had been many years since I explored the actual park roads. As we drove along, we saw things we had not seen in a long time, cannons that I was sure I had posed on as a kid, hills and fields I had run along, and views that my eyes had not viewed for years.

We then came upon a familiar open area and realized to much delight that it was the picnic field that we used to go to almost every Sunday when we were kids. We could see the hills we would climb, the trees we would sit under, the field we would play ball or chase games on, and where we would spread the blankets and pop open some semi-frozen cans of grape soda.

So many memories came rushing back, and I wanted to stay, but we had no picnic basket so we moved on. We then went and drove over to Washington’s Headquarters to kill a few more minutes, again doing just as Dad would do, meander around and see the view from the car without a set schedule or route. We drove and we had a great time doing it.

One place that I had not seen before is pictured below. This is a beautiful train station hard by the banks of the Schuykill River near the Headquarters. The train tracks are used by freight but the refurbished station looks like part of an extended commuter rail plan. I need to check tht out, but leave it to Dad to show us something new as we did what we loved.

We then headed to the gravesite and sat there for about ten minutes before my brother Joe showed up. The day was cold and the wind was raw but it really hadn’t bothered us all day. We got out to see my Dad, with my Mom and my brother JP on either side of him. It was sad and reflective. However, as we stood there, the wind picked up and the cold felt unbearable. I went back to my car to get a cap and even that didn’t help. We decided it was too cold to stand around. It was almost as if, just as he guided us to fun places we had shared, my Dad was telling us to move along, to get back to life.

We then traveled to my Dad’s favorite restaurant in Phoenixville, O’Gradys. He loved their breakfast bar. He also loved fried oysters and they had them. Joe, Julie, Tommy, and I had a good meal and Tommy flirted with all the waitresses.

All of the above seems ordinary until I started to think about it on the way home. As with my nieces birthday party, and with Julies wedding planning, what we thought we would do was changed. It was obvious that my Dad did not want us to spend the weekend sad. He simply wanted us to spend the weekend with him. He guided us to memories, he showed us the happiness again and he made sure we stopped and enjoyed what we had always enjoyed as a family.
He wanted to do these things again and he took us with him just as he did when he was the driver and we were the kids.

That will never change. The day was supposed to be a memorial to my Dad on the one year anniversary of his passing. It turned out to be the best picnic day we had ever had. Thanks, Pop.

That’s What She Said (N’yuk n’yuk n’yuk)

Everyone loves to be a fan of something and everyone loves to belong to something. I find these very basic statements to be more true than ever to me as I navigate my lung disease. Since many previous avenues for social and creative real world interaction disappear as you learn the new ropes of your living your life with a life threatening disability.

I’ve found that a new type of fan experience has allowed me to share and learn like I did when I worked in the home video industry, as well as build new and lasting relationships that are needed as my old real world job related ones fade into the rear view mirror.

Physical real world fandom has been the norm for decades. Be it Ralphie (A CHRISTMAS STORY) using his decoder ring to decipher a product endorsement from LITTLE ORPHAN ANNIE, Beatles Fans flipping their mop tops and tossing jelly beans at their idols on stage, or the then-latest teen idol on the cover of SIXTEEN and TIGER BEAT, fans and fan clubs have been our way of connecting to our passions. However, that connection was usually not much more than a package in the mail every few months and an assembly line autographed photo.

Every so often, the fan clubs or admiration societies would produce something more. BEATLES fan club members were treated to an exclusive once a year Christmas record that now sell for $100’s of dollars.

In addition, while many people know what a “bootleg record” is , and associate it with rock and roll, fans of Bing Crosby were trading and buying bootleg records of studio outtakes way back in the 30’s and 40’s. In other words, many fans clubs were simply commercial extensions of a brand, but a few found a way to get fans more involved and hence more passionate.

Of course, the object of the fan’s affection also authorized and sold many items with their likenesses on them. While most of the people who were members of a particular fan club over the years were content with getting a newsletter once in a while and then outgrowing the fandom, a select few built a passion that last through the years and manifests itself in unique ways.

We guys get stereotyped for what we like…a lot. We will love something that supposedly makes our female friends very confused as to why we do. One of the premiere “guy likes” are Moe, Larry, and Curly aka THE THREE STOOGES. We watch marathons, we imitate the N’yukiness of their actions, and we dare to be brazen and bold about it. In addition, we can celebrate a brand new feature film about them called (what else, knuckleheads?) THE THREE STOOGES!

In the Philadelphia area, we can manifest that boldness without fear of embarrassment. First of all, when any females accompany us to look at the fine art of Philadelphia, we can make sure that we fool them into going to South Street and makes sure that we walk, smiling and laughing, right up to the gigantic mural of LARRY FINE (a Philly native) that is above a restaurant called Jon’s at 3rd and South. HEY, PORCUPINE!

The heirs of the THREE STOOGES have tightly managed their legacy, so when a fan enterprise is anointed by them to exist, then it must be good. The second local treasure for local Stoogephiles exists at 904 Sheble La, in Ambler PA, THE STOOGEUM.

It is the world’s only authorized museum of THREE STOOGES items, with over 100,000 pieces of memorabilia. The items span from 1918 until now, and include an 85 seat theater to show STOOGE FILMS. It is also the headquarters for the OFFICIAL THREE STOOGES FAN CLUB.

I’m so ready to go, but you need to know that the museum is as unique as its subject matter. The main quirk is that it is only open 1 day a month, so to get your Stooge on, you need to plan.

However, this is a unique” fan experience” because it allows you to directly interact with other fans. You can find their website and more details at http://www.stoogeum.com/.

In the age of “now”, the internet has changed all of the rules of fandom. Yep, you can attend conventions and read fan newsletters. However, for the first time, the internet allows you to interact in real time with both the fans and , at times, the objects of adoration. This allows for spirited discussions, many of which will actually influence the future efforts of many of these people and projects.

Such is the case of people I met through the official NBC “THE OFFICE” fan website. Back during the 3rd Season, NBC set up a role playing site called DUNDER MIFFLIN INFINITY. The concept was that fans “worked” for the paper company at a series of virtual branches scattered around the world. Each branch had a manager and employees. Some branches had hundreds, some had a few.

At first, I joined, as others did, in disguise, playing a role and acting a part. We were an employee. However, the site went beyond just show related coloring activities. The site actually had team building exercises, effective fund raising activities, and truly creative assignments, some of which wound up on air. In other words, I found a work experience.

I was in charge of a branch in Allentown PA, chosen because it was right down the road from the show’s Scranton branch. We christened ourselves as THE CLOWNSIDE, in honor of Dorney Park’s Alfundo. We put on virtual parties and plays, created stories and projects, and just had a blast for over three years.

However, over time, the “play acting” dropped off and the employees started to open up as themselves. Yep, we all had screen names but we also all started to learn and care about each other. Many of the sites participants became friends, for me , many became lifelong supporting and treasured friends.

As we grew to know each other through our keyboards, we started to wonder about getting together in real life. The problem was that while we could be virtually geographically close to the Allentown branch, the real world commute was, for some, much farther. Taking the cue from other branches like the LONG BEACH CA branch, we decided to try to get together in real life. We decided to do a “company picnic” at HERSHEYPARK, since we felt the location was easy enough for a large part of the surrounding states to get to without too long a trip.

At our first “picnic” we had over three dozen attendees and were even covered in the press. We had a total of three Hershey picnics, which have since morphed into simple Central PA picnics. In addition, we also created a promotion for NBC to hold “premiere viewing parties” for the 5th Season of the show. Over 50 parties were held across the country, and we held ours at DAVE AND BUSTERS in Plymouth Meeting PA. We drew almost 45 people to the event.

To this day, I am still friends in some way with over 100 of these DMI employees and a couple dozen of them have become invaluable to me as I deal with my illness. These people care for me and I for them. They have superseded the anonymity of the internet to become true friends. Yes, some I have met in person, and some I am determined to meet and hug in person someday.

They come from all over the county, but they are as close as my keyboard and my heart. They have become my friends and when my spirits are low, as they are way too often, they are there, they are real, and they are loved.

They are a great part of the reason why I keep trying. I’ve always wanted to write about them publicly and shout to the world how great they are. With you indulgence, I just took the opportunity. And I will celebrate them forever.

THAT’S WHAT I SAID.

Soup For You.

I took a few days to relax for the holidays, hide from my evil Elf On The Shelf, and just regroup.

I also am trying to reorganize my blog to make it a bit easier to find the main themes (my pulmonary disease,my favorite bits and pieces of my local area, my views in current entertainment, my “looks back” at some of the great things I grew up with, my family and friends, and even some new sports themed items). I also hope to get the blog popular enough that I can invite some people I truly respect to guest blog their own thoughts.

I’ll be spending the next day or so doing some planning, and them will have two posts up over the weekend.

In the meantime, a little something that I learned from a few other blogs. When you are going to be away from the blog for a short time, make sure you leave some comfort food behind, in this case, some CAMPBELL’S CREAM OF MUSHROOM SOUP. So, keep warm and see you in a day or so.

Pulmonary Tales: “Air” Travel

I love to travel. I cannot afford to do it much, and a lot of my past travel has either been by plane for video store industry functions, or by car for many vacations. I love to fly, even as the flights and airlines have become more and more crappy.

However, because I also love the journey as much as the destination, I also love to go by car. First, you actually see places you never have before, even if it is from the speed of an Interstate. Second, you control the journey, from departure to detour to final arrival. Third, you control the environment and atmosphere, listening to music or radio that you want to hear, talking with others in the vehicle, stopping and looking around to get local flavor along the way.

Maybe strangely, I like to drive the entire distance, making stops every couple of hours. I also love late night driving on an Interstate. No rush, no large volume of traffic, and the night seems to dull the rumble of traffic to a tolerable volume.

I’ve driven to Orlando and other Florida cities many times, with an overnight in the South Carolina areas. I know all the silly “South Of The Border” billboards, some of the better places to eat that don’t smack of “tourist trap” and many of the local snacks that you pick up to fuel the journey. I have driven to Atlanta from Philly once straight through, no overnights, in order to take my Dad down to see his sister who was gravelly ill. Because I drove, I saw some wonderful small towns that looked just like Mayberry. I saw kudzu for the first time. And, I ate at a couple of wonderful local places with real food.

Recently, travel has been much rarer, mainly because of the loss of work and my lung disease. This has restricted me financially and physically, plus my layoff and retirement from the home video industry took away all of the business reasons for me to travel. A couple of trips to New York City to take my brother Tommy Hickman up to see his friend Kelly Ripa on “LIVE WITH REGIS AND KELLY” for his birthday and a couple of trips to Central PA to see my Dunder Mifflin Infinity friends (Yeah, I’m nuts about NBC’s THE OFFICE, a well).

As a person (I really hate the word “patient” since I am still a person) with Interstitial Lung Disease, I now have to make choices tempering my desire with my reality. As a person with Interstitial Lung Disease, I also have to find the info I need in order to travel as smartly and comfortably as possible. There is so much I have to learn about my ILD, and sadly, so little actually real life support info out there. I get great care from my team of doctors at the Penn/Perleman Lung Center and at Lankenau Hospital, but finding people with my illness and my needs is tough to do. ILD/NSIP is not one of the lung diseases that are the subject of a lot of public talk, as is COPD, lung cancer, or asthma.
That means I have to dig for info.

Next year, my niece, Julie, is getting married in Disney World in October. She and her fiancée are Disney freaks (Like Uncle, like niece). I intend to be there. I would not miss this for anything. However, now the journey turns from leisure to medical necessity.

The following year, my nephew Shawn is getting married there. Runs in the family!

As much as it is convenient to fly, I do not know if I can fly or if the airlines could accommodate my needs, if any. Knowing the changes in cabin pressure and altitude, there are dangers to myself that may not be there for a healthy person. The air pressure alone could fail to provide sufficient oxygen for me, even though I do not need oxygen when I am seated or simply standing. Any sudden change could be catastrophic for me. In addition, the length of the flight can be a concern,

The airport environment itself should not be a problem, since I can arrange a cart ride to the gate, and can also be diligent in arriving early for check in. However, besides the flight, I also need to transport oxygen tanks for use while I am away. Since I would be in a theme park environment, this would require a supply that might equal 1 tank a day.

Airlines do not allow you to bring your own oxygen. That means that if I needed it in flight, I would need to arrange with the airline for the oxygen supply, and this is an additional cost. There is no guarantee that I could be approved for a rechargeable portable oxygen concentrator.

To prepare for the possibility of the flight, I would need to undergo testing that would include tolerating simulated altitude changes and pressures. I would need to make sure that my lungs can handle the oxygen gas exchanges and other lung functions without any danger. I would need to make sure that I am comfortable and confident in my abilities.

Or I could drive.

While I still do not know exactly how long distance auto travel will affect me, it does have my advantages. Anything I require goes in the car, as well as luggage that might cost me $50 or more to check on a flight. My in car and out of car meals are real meals, not snacks. I may sit in a traffic jam, but I won’t get stuck on a tarmac. The in-car entertainment beats inflight hands down. I have room for my butt in the seat and no one will recline their seat back into my knees. Bathrooms along the way will be bigger than a broom closet and my poop and pee will not be blue iced and maybe dropped on an unsuspecting town along the way.

I leave when I want. I control my time, I control my arrival, I control my journey.

And if a medical emergency due to my lung disease occurs, I can get help without panicking and inconveniencing a flight nor having to wait until we land. That means a lot, especially since I still have a lot to learn about my disease. It’s a brave new world, and yes, a bit scary. However, I can see as much of the world as this disease will let me, or I can always wonder what it would be like to travel again.

In this case, I’d much rather do than dream.

And Alec Baldwin can ride shotgun and play WORDS WITH FRIENDS as much as he wants.