I feel like I died and then came back to life, and who knows, maybe I did. The reason I decided to get hand surgery was pretty good, even if it was a spur of the moment type thing. You see, a year ago my parents were in Montana visiting our family when they noticed a lump that was growing on my dad’s neck. Worried, they went to the doctor in Butte, Dr Kaufman, who advised them to return to San Diego for immediate testing. Later we found out it was Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a common form of cancer. Fortunately my dad didn’t hesitate a bit and started chemotherapy and radiation treatment, and today he continues to live a cancer-free life. So, back to my story, I’ve noticed a lump on my hand over the last few months. It started growing bigger, which started to scare the crap out of me. Maybe it was me being in Butte a year later, and then meeting Dr. Kaufman and showing him my hand. That was on Sunday. Monday morning I woke up to a message that I was having hand surgery at 3pm in the afternoon.

I’m not afraid of needles or people cutting into my body or anything like that. At least I don’t think I am. As I sat on the hospital chair in a semi-reclined position, the nurse shot me up with tons of procaine until my hand didn’t seem to be attached to my body. My dad is in the room and we’re talking with the doctor as he’s digging around, doing his thing. I feel them hit a nerve and I tell them. And then it happens again and I tell them. Then I slightly feel the nurse begin shooting my hand up with more and more procaine. My stomach tightens up and my head rushes, I feel like I’m going to be sick, and the last thing I remember is saying that I wasn’t feeling very good. It was more like “I’m nooot feeeeeeeeliiiiiing veeeeeeeeeeeeeeryyyy goooooooooooooo…”. My dad explained to me later that I then went into a seizure that lasted 15-20 seconds. I was coughing, almost choking, unable to breathe, and then began violently convulsing in the chair. I lunged forward, up in the chair, and this is where I start remembering what happened again. Everything burned back into perspective and I’m looking at a doctor and nurse in their medical clothes, and my dad, all starting at me scared and telling me I’m ok. “Where the hell am I?”, I ask a few times. I had no idea why I was there, or where I was, that I was having surgery, that I was even in the US, for a couple of minutes. It was messed up. Not to mention I felt awful. This was about halfway through the procedure, and as I sat there I started to realize that my entire body was still in shock and shaking. I can’t really explain it any better than that.

Looking back on it now, I wonder if what I experienced was an allergic reaction to the anesthetic. You hear stories about how you’ve got to sign papers in the dentist office because every once in a blue moon some poor soul dies while getting their teeth cleaned, or during lasik surgery, or while getting a mole removed, and so on. I’d like to think that I just passed out for a few seconds, but what I saw between passing out and waking up was crazy enough that I can’t begin to explain it. It was crazy enough to wonder if I died and came back to life, all in those 15-20 seconds. I’m not going to spend too much time worrying about it, because I’m still here, so I guess if nothing else I’ve got a good bar story if ever on the subject. Oh, and the lump on my hand was a cyst, so thats good news.

Right now I’m sitting next to a lake in Tims Ford State Park in Tennessee. This is the true south, and where they lack in teeth they more than make up for in hospitality and fried catfish. I’m pretty burned out on the whole family reunion thing, I mean seriously, why did I plan such a long trip away from surf? I don’t know. Today we take the ski boat and get pulled behind the boat while riding surfboards, so thats about as close as its going to get. I’ve just got to find a way to do it without using my right hand. So far I’ve driven by about a million churches (they sure praise the lord a lot down here), seen a thirteen year old girl sucking her thumb (reminds me of the movie Deliverance), watched (I swear not for long) as some guy tried to get his boy horse mate with his girl horse, and, uh, well, thats about it because I’m stuck in Tennessee.

We fly back to San Diego on Sunday morning. I’m excited to finally get our beach cottages there set up so that I can rent them out to friends, family, wrsc guests, basically anyone who wants to go on vacation to San Diego and stay in Ocean Beach a block from the ocean. Justin finally got the homeless guy to move out of my driveway so that was nice. I was trying to explain the story to one of Holly’s cousins last night around 1am. It sounds more and more crazy every time I tell the story. I mean come on, where were my SD friends through all of this? We hadn’t been back to San Diego since last November, which is quite some time, but hey, I was busy. Someone could have called me in Costa Rica or sent a quick email explaining that I had a homeless guy living in Justin’s van in my driveway, that he had used my yard to disassemble his own van’s engine. He even built a fire pit and some storage shelves there, and would have other people come by the house and work on their cars there. Are you f#%king kidding me? No, I’m not. I swear, its like a funny part to a bad movie. The fact that my friends knew about all of this and figured that I’d be ok with it shock me, but I guess thats what happens when you never make an issue out of anything. I mean, I was letting them brew beer in the front yard while the homeless guy Ron was changing neighbor’s oil in the back yard. It reminds me of my college years living on Poole Street with Doug Cole.

So, anyways, no more homeless dude, no more beer factory. I’m painting everything, we’ve gotten some great furniture for our surf cottages (they come fully furnished) and will be renting them out starting next weekend (Friday August 10th). If you or anyone you know wants is planning a trip to San Diego and wants a great place to stay, send me an email. The beach cottages go for $120/night, they are on Abbott Street between Cape May and Brighton in Ocean Beach, 92107. There is tons of surf right out in front, plus great local hangouts on Newport Avenue three blocks up. OB is definitely the last remaining local beach of San Diego, so if you haven’t visited you should. I’ll have a website up shortly and will include it in my next blog. Until then, I’m going to try and make the best out of this family reunion thing, its actually pretty cool to be forced to hang out with people you don’t know. I just sometimes get tired of it as I’ve been doing it for as long as I can remember. hasta la pasta- joe

new plans emerge and I’m getting hand surgery in about 30 minutes, so I’m not sure if I’ll be surfing, or even typing. Tomorrow is Nashville. Then Sunday morning back to San Diego, and then Thursday to Costa Rica. Then I think I’m scheduled for a trip to Panama the week after that. go Chargers. I can’t wait to get back to the beach, Montana is nice but flat and no ocean whatsoever. New blog to come soon.

We’re just about to cross the border from Oregon into Washington state…we’ve been following the Columbia River for a couple of hours and the drive has been really sweet. Technology blows me away, as it always does. I guess since I’ve been in Central America since last November, I’m not up to date with the internet options for the road tripping American. So, from the front seat of my parent’s camper, I post this blog. Driving through Northern California was really nice. We left on Friday and just crossed into Oregon today (Tuesday). Mendecino and Humbolt Counties are just awesome. The redwood trees are just as tall as I remember them being, and every time we drove near the coast there seemed to be plenty of waves with nobody surfing them. I didn’t bring a surfboard as I’m taking a break from surfing for a little while. I literally exhausted my body on this last surf trip that I took, followed by surfing my ass off at the sand bar in front of the surf camp. I guess I’m not getting any younger. Holly gives me shit for rubbing ben gay on my neck and back as I’m so freaking sore from paddling so much lately. Whatever. I guess if I’m going to be a life long surfer I’m going to have to get used to dealing with the growing pains. They don’t last long anyways, and can be easily forgotten a day after the body finally heals. I decided to take a break from drinking on this trip, today is day five. No, I’m not getting the shakes. Yes, I’m surprised too (a joke). I’m not really sure why, probably because I’m traveling with my parents and they no longer drink. Holly is pregnant, so that leaves me as the solo guy drinking at the party. My dad brought an ounce of these two strains of weed on the trip, one called Blueberry and the other called Train Wreck. Since he went through having cancer he received his official Californian Green Card, so he’s legal through and through. I love California for things like that. So you can assume although I haven’t had a beer or a bamboo in days, I’m still chilling around the camp fire with pops and you know how that goes. Doing this trip was a great decision to make. I don’t know how many people get to drive across the US with their parents, their spouse, and their child, all in a camper, staying in campgrounds the entire way. And not want to kill one another (its not a big camper). We’re getting along great, and I’m going to look back on this trip when Otis is older and tell him about it. And then show him the video. The little guy once again has blown me away. Today we stopped outside of Portland so Otis could run around for a couple of hours. We found a nice playground and football field outside of some grade school, and Otis and I went for the slides. At first he was content with the small slide, but then he started eyeing the big kid slide. I climbed up to the top, had my dad hand me Otis, and I got him set up for the big kid slide. He slid down, loved it, and proceeded to do it about ten more times before getting bored. He can barely walk, yet he’s a pro at the slide. very cool. Reflecting on the last few days, actually reflecting on Wednesday night when I flew in to San Diego from Costa Rica, I was given quite a surprise welcome home. No, not a party. A homeless guy living in his van in my driveway. How would this happen, you might ask? I wanted to know as well. Justin, my good friend who lives at my house in Ocean Beach and watches over things, tried to explain. Supposedly Ron (the homeless guy living in my driveway) needed a place to fix his van, and Justin offered him my driveway, thinking he wouldn’t take more than a few days. Well, that was a couple of months ago I come to find out. My entire yard is full of engine parts, so thats an added bonus. I actually had to record video of Justin explaining all of this to me so I could look at it later and see if it made more sense. It still doesn’t, and after Justin told me that since he has a new girlfriend named Paige and has been staying at her house lately, people have been coming by the place so Ron acts like a security guard sort of. hmmm. Its funny, because when I was out, someone did come by and actually put their head into the window and asked Holly if Ron was home, because the guy needed an oil change for his motorcycle. So now I’ve got some guy who is not only living in my driveway, but is running a business there. Of course I won’t do anything because I’m such a nice guy. I look at Ron as that guy in the movie Half Baked who sleeps on the couch throughout the entire movie. In fact, Justin is flying down to Costa Rica next month and going with me, Matt and Colin on our surf trip to Panama, so you can see what I do to my friends when they bring homeless people to the house. Thats just the way it seems to go in my life. I’m going to be back in San Diego in about ten days, so homeless guy Ron, please be gone (of course you won’t read my blog Ron, unless you use the computer in my house too). hasta la pasta (oh, we just crossed into Washington state)