It is October now. Some time has passed since Sultan arrived at my house on June 18. As I thought back to the time we spent together before leaving on our trip….June 18 – September 5….I almost panicked. The only thing I could think of were the emergencies….the trips to the hospital….to the doctor….and all the other physical things I would rather forget.

After looking through the pictures again, all the good memories started to return. Actually we had a blast…..and we were rarely idle…doing a wide variety of interesting and fun things that now overshadow the darker moments of that five weeks. It demonstrates, though, that sometimes the “bad” tends to dominate the “good” when the brain sorts and prioritizes its memories.

 

It was something we had anticipated for almost a full year. We talked about it every time we chatted on Skype. It was a main focus of our conversations. We planned and plotted for months….. We did not want anything to go wrong…..like it had the previous year.

Yes…. Sultan was coming to spend the summer at my house… We were planning a month-long bad ass trip…. We had planned one for the summer of 2016…..only to have our plans fall through because of a visa misunderstanding. At least, what was interpreted as a visa misunderstanding. Who know? The more people who get involved in any situation….the more complicated it becomes….the the more muddy the water becomes. At any rate, we had to abandon our plans at the last minute….leaving me to “undo” everything that had already been done.

This year, we were careful that we did not find ourselves in the same quagmire of unfortunate circumstances. He was duly enrolled in a college class at Washburn University….he checked and doubled-checked his visa to make sure that everything in in proper legal order…. Canceling twenty campground and hotel reservations at the last minute is not a lot of fun.

But, the important thing was: Sultan was coming.

Yes….. There he was….his bright and cheerful smile. I saw it as soon as he walked into the waiting room at the airport in Kansas City. And, he saw me at almost precisely the same instant. Sultan’s long awaited return was finally a reality.

Sunday, June 18, was cause for a double celebration. Not only was this the first day of a two and a half months visit…..but it was also Sultan’s 20th birthday. Soon after we had arrived home….and Sultan has taken his suitcase and backpack to his room….the birthday celebration got underway. Yes… It was only Sultan and I, but it was a celebration,

nevertheless. We couldn’t let the day go by without a birthday party. And, the event was even more important and special because this was his very first birthday party. Quite unlike the USA…..and other Western countries….birthdays in Saudi Arabia are not special occasions….and usually pass with no recognition or fanfare.

I was not about to let his special day go by without a celebration. I had already bought a birthday cake (You can take a look at the picture.)….and a couple gifts that I hoped he would like….and would be special to him. It was all over in less than 15 minutes. But, 15 minutes are long enough to get the job done….and provide years of good memories. Since it was already getting late in the day, we left immediately for Sultan’s birthday dinner at the Golden Corral in Topeka. Yep…. Sultan has officially been welcomed to the Darrah Ranch for the summer.

Sultan is truly a remarkable young man. They simply do not make human beings any better that him. This is probably going to be a recurring theme in the pages to follow….and it is true.

Sultan had told me many times before he arrived that he would help me do many of the things around the house and yard that I am not able to do by myself. Well….I hate to invite somebody to my house and then treat them like a hired laborer…. Really! But, Sultan had insisted….and persisted. So, I figured…. “Why not?!” During our Skype conversations, he repeatedly told me, “Just wait until I am there, and I will help you.” He seemed sincere enough….and he was….but I still felt a little badly about having so many things for him to do when he arrived.

All of the things that I needed help with were things that I normally did by myself….back in the “Old Days”….when I was still relatively young. I knew how to do all of the tasks…..so I made a good supervisor. Through the years, old age just sort of crept up….silently and in the shadows. These days I make a great boss….but a bad worker. As for Sultan…. He had never done any of the tasks. So…. That made him a great worker….getting all the benefits of a knowledgeable mentor. At least, that is the way I prefer to look at the situation.

Until recently I took a drug called Plavix. I started taking it about 10 years ago, right after some stents were inserted into some of the arteries entering my heart. Ideally, the Plavix keeps the blood

platelets from sticking to the stents…..and blocking the arteries again. It was an unpleasant drug to take….even though it was useful and necessary, and probably was instrumental in saving or

prolonging my life. But, like most good things….there was also a down side. Through its very nature, it kept blood from clotting. In the arteries, that is exactly what it is supposed to do. But….of course, it also kept blood from clotting….well, everywhere. If it didn’t prevent blood from clotting, it certainly slowed it down significantly. A little cut or scratch would potentially bleed far beyond the normal expectations. The slightest bump would cause an unsightly bruise. But, that was the price I paid for keeping the blood flowing smoothly and steadily through the body.

You are asking…. What does all this have to do with Sultan…and the tasks I had saved up for him to help me with? OK…. My yard seems to be full of dangerous trees! Locust trees grow wild….almost better than the weeds. This type of locust tree is the kind with the little thorns on them. Well, some of them are not so little. They were the Number One cause of flat tires on my lawn mower….and had been since I have lived here. Over the years, I did a pretty good job of controlling them…..when they grew in my yard. But now, they were mainly growing along the fence line….and just over the fence on my neighbor’s property….. And, as they grew taller and taller, the branches hung over onto my land. Controlling them became a pain in the rear….if not impossible. For me to really get rid of them required getting over fence onto my neighbor’s property. Again, several years ago, this was not a challenge. I just got a limb saw, climbed over the fence….and cut them down.

As if the locust trees were not enough, another shrub or bush or vine…. Actually, it is a combination of all three of them….has been entangling itself onto and into fence posts….especially the heavy

wooden corner posts. It grows in stringy vines…all entangled with each other. I call them bramble bushes, for lack of an accurate name. I am sure that is not their real name….and I have already given them a few other names that are no doubt inappropriate for this blog. But, they are covered with literally thousands of needle-sharp thorns. They cut through skin on mere contact….and sometimes, it seems, even when I am near them.

OK…. Now I am sure you are asking (again), “What could be the connection between Plavix and moving the lawn?” For the past 10 years, every time I mowed the lawn, I always carried a clean towel with

me. Not to wipe the sweat off my face….Mowing the lawn is not that difficult….but, rather I carry it to wipe the blood off my arms…and legs….and face! As hard as I try, not a lawn mowing event goes by without me sacrificing a pint of blood. Well….maybe not a pint. But I finally got fed up with donating my blood to a bunch of evil trees and vines.

Enter Sultan: The Hero of this story. Between him and the electric chainsaw, the locust trees and the bramble bushes had met their match. One morning they were systematically banished to the place where satanic locust trees and bramble bushes meet their eternal fate. Once we got about l00 feet of electrical extension cords stretched out to the northern most reaches of the property, the work of cutting the offending trees and bushes went quickly. Once they were cut down, we merely tossed them over the fence onto the property where they grew.

There was another problem that the chainsaw solved. In the past trees grew almost uncontrollably….especially along the road near the ditches. They were largely ignored….until the county started coming along and cutting them down. I became rather apprehensive that someday they would start sending me a bill. So using my better judgment….and economic common sense….I started having them cut down. This was back in the day when I did not own a chainsaw, so normally one of the high school boys who come and helped me brought his chainsaw out and cut them down for me.

Every time they cut one of these trees down, I would beg them, “Cut it as far down into the soil as possible, so I can mow over the top of it.” Starting their chainsaw with a macho flourish, and giving me one of those “Don’t worry….I know what I am doing” looks”, they would proceed to cut off the undesirable tree….about 6 inches above ground level.

“Is that the lowest you can cut it?” I would ask.

“Yes, I can’t get the chainsaw any lower.”

Or, more likely, I would just say, “Will you go out and cut down those trees….and cut them as close the ground as possible, so I can run the lawnmower over them.”

Then I would go out later on and find the stumps sticking up six inches out of the ground.

All of this was back in the days before I owned a chainsaw…..only a limb saw. And, it was not possible for me to kneel down and finish cutting them off.

But….Again: Enter Sultan! “Let’s go out and cut down those stumps.”

So, one way or the other….he cut them…piece by piece….under my expert supervision, of course…..until we had them cut down to ground level, or in some case, even below ground level.

The major difference with Sultan? Well, there are many differences….and Sultan comes up looking like a genius in all the comparisons….but the main difference is that Sultan actually tried! Instead of making an excuse…taking the easy way out…..he just went ahead and got the job done.

 

 

 

 

And, another big difference….. Sultan was having fun! It was the first time he had used a chainsaw….and he was having fun. Sometimes it is amazing how much a person can accomplish when he is having fun doing it.

The end result of these few hours of work is that I can now mow the lawn without the danger of cutting my arms, legs and face….and losing enough blood to make a normal person unconscious. I no longer have to mow wide swaths around the trees and vines. And, in the ditch in front of my house: I can simply hop on the lawnmower and go mow it. No longer is it a game of Lawnmower Roulette….will I hit a stump and ruin the lawnmower blade….or will I make it through the maze of stumps with the lawnmower blades intact.

The locust trees are gone; the bramble bushes are gone; the stumps are gone. Now I can happily mow the lawn with no worry about danger to myself or to the lawnmower. And…Sultan knows how to use a chainsaw. Well….sort of.

As an added reward…. Some friends of mine happened to be driving by our house with their horse and wagon. They stopped and invited us to take a ride with them down to the river and back…. A welcome respite from work….and a happy reunion with friends.

We were not finished having fun with dangerous toys yet. If you are going to play….put some drama into it. Our next two projects were not as dangerous as wielding a chainsaw…but they did provide some new experiences for Sultan. Now that I am retired, the sort of activities I am involved in on a daily basis are really not intellectual pursuits. Rather, they are basic life skills that, in my opinion, every man and woman who own a home should possess, if they are to live successfully and independently. Of course, one option is to call a carpenter or a repairman every time something around the house or yard needs attention. And, maybe if you are going to be a doctor, this is a viable option. But….if you are poor like me, the better choice is to learn how to take care of small problems by oneself. And, this is one of the lessons I tried to pass on to Sultan.

The first project was to construct a new “false floor” or hard surface, for my desk chair to sit on…..a surface on which is could roll between my two desks easily. For years I had to contend with maneuvering between the two desks on shag carpet. The carpet would clump up and make it impossible for the chair to move easily.

My first solution was to buy a piece of commercial carpet….smooth and simple. Maybe this may have worked if the carpet had been stretched tightly so no wrinkles could form. But doing this is easier than it sounds….at least, for me and my helpers with no special equipment to tighten the carpet. My second brilliant idea was to buy a 4 x 8 ft. piece of plywood and put it down. This fix was a pretty good Band Aid for a while….until the plywood started coming apart….until splinters starting forming, threatening me with a case of tetanus….until little holes started forming, making it even more annoying that the carpet itself. And, then, the guy at the lumber company somehow convinced me that I need to buy a sheet of some sort of particle board… “Much superior than the plywood,” he said. Who was I to question his wisdom. I mean… He worked in a lumber yard. He was supposed to know about stuff like this. This was another Band Aid, of sorts. It worked great for a couple or three months….and it, too, started breaking apart, making it a major pain in the rear. OK…. Now…. Beryl has his own solution. A light came on somewhere in my brain. Admittedly is was only a 25 watt light….but a light nevertheless. I decided to buy a sheet of plywood…..and cover it with linoleum squares. Not only would it look nicer with the linoleum squares….almost like a real floor….but the wheels of the chair would never come into contact with the plywood. Foolproof!

So, one Sunday afternoon, after we returned from eating lunch in Lawrence, Sultan agreed to help make this plan come true! I have to admit, this project did not require the use of any dangerous tools or electrical devices that potentially might result in a visit to the

emergency room. But…. It did require the use of Epoxy paint….which is actually just Epoxy glue…but in a more plentiful form. I suppose there was a danger that his hand….or some other even more important part of his body….would become permanently attached to the plywood. And, then he would have to be forcefully separated from it. Or maybe he would simply become a permanent fixture at my house, lying on the floor and studying to become a doctor from a prone position.

Neither of these things happened. The two parts of the Epoxy paint were carefully mixed together….the plywood was carefully coated with the mixture, just enough to keep ahead of the linoleum squares, and the linoleum squares were applied precisely….and with great

care. You know like the old saying goes, “Stick once….because there is not going to be a second chance!” We divided the labor. Sultan mixed the “paint”; I brushed the paint onto the plywood….staying about a square’s length ahead of him; and Sultan applied the linoleum squares to the plywood. It was good teamwork….and the results were pleasing. And, Sultan was not permanently bonded to the plywood….and he is at home in Saudi Arabia, sitting in a chair, studying to become a doctor.

The second project was a little more complicated. It was not complicated because it was “complicated”…..but because Sultan could not immediately grasp the concept of construction I was trying to explain to him. Actually, there was no need for him to understand the concept. All I needed him for was to do the work…..to do what I told him to do…..to carry out my instructions. But, Sultan…having an inquiring mind and a stubborn spirit….just

kept staring at me, and saying, “What?”

We were making a cover for the crawl space beneath my house. The old cover had disintegrated….fallen apart….and it was well past time to construct a new cover. After several prolonged explanations….lots of gesturing on my part….and saying, “Just do what I tell you”, and finally walking around the house to show him where the cover would go….and demonstrate how it was going to work…..the light finally came on in his intelligent mind. And, the construction process started. This required using an electric saw. Actually, I suppose that potentially more things can go wrong with an electric table saw than can go wrong with a chainsaw. However, I carefully, patiently and clearly (Notice, I am describing myself now!) explained and demonstrated how to use the electric table saw correctly and safely….. And, Sultan performed like the champion that is truly is.

Both projects have turned out to be mostly successful. I have done some minor work to the cover of the crawl space, and Sultan made a minor repair to the floor project before he went back to Saudi Arabia. The locust trees and the bramble bushes have slowly began to grow back. They are insidious; they will forever rear their ugly heads and have to be dealt with. However, the hard work was accomplished. None of these projects would have been done without Sultan’s help and hard work. And, he will be back next summer….probably doing the same jobs again.

And…. Another happy report: I examined Sultan’s hands…and counted his fingers. He returned home with all of them intact.

There was another job that Sultan was more than eager to do. It was a job that I had doubts; about which I was much less enthusiastic. Sultan had asked on more than occasion if he could mow the lawn….using the riding lawn mower, of course. I have rather demanding standards when it comes to my lawn….how it should be

mowed and how it should look after it is mowed. Up until this point….I am the only one who has been able to meet these high requirements. The succession of high school kids who have worked for me over the years have by and large never even come close to meeting them. My theory….my law of life….is: Take your time. “Do it right the first time…and you will not have to do it again.” And, a companion maxim: “Anything worth doing is worth doing well.”

However, the kids whom I have hired to mow the lawn over the years seem to have another goal in mind: “Get it done as fast as you can…. Get the money…. Get out of there.” Therefore, I was somewhat hesitant to let Sultan anywhere near the lawnmower. But, necessitated by conditions beyond my control, I relented and consented to let him mow the lawn. I am sure that if I had been

physically able, I would have done it myself, though. So, again, after some careful and detailed instructions, Sultan set off on an adventure that he had longed for: Mowing the lawn.

While he happily went about the task of mowing, I stood and watched nervously. But, he seemed to be doing a good job….and he was having fun….so I soon grew bored watching him and went back into the house…..returning only at regular intervals to check on his progress. Each time he saw me, he waved happily….and perhaps a bit

triumphantly. The end result was not so bad. He did a good job. The lawn looked pretty good….. Better than most of the high school boys ever did…..but still not quite up to level of perfection I achieve! But…. He passed the test. He was happy; I was happy. And….the lawn was mowed. And, I was thankful and happy for his help.

About a week after Sultan’s arrival we took the opportunity to drive to Arkansas to visit one of my cousins….actually two of them, since her daughter, my second cousin, lives in the same town. I was hoping they would be happy to see me (although I was sure they would be!). However, I knew they would be happy to see Sultan again. Sultan and Fayez have both met both of my cousins on previous occasions. They liked both of them. I mean… Who wouldn’t?

The last trip I made to see them was with Sultan. The visit was a huge success, and they liked Sultan immediately. But…the visit did have a minute or two that proved to be awkward….for both my cousins and Sultan….and for me, for that matter. And, it was probably my fault that the entire incident took place. I probably simply neglected to tell them that Sultan is a Muslin. For me… Well, I have always known it…compensated for it….accepted it…. And, quite frankly, it just did not make any difference to me.

But, during the first trip that Sultan made with me to visit them, we sat and talked cordially, catching up on old times. Lunch time came….And, Dorothy announced that we were having ham and cheese sandwiches, along with…. Well, it really doesn’t make much difference what came after that. I sort of gasped….Sultan looked at

me with a rather startled look on his face. For a second, I didn’t know how to react….or respond. I think it as I who finally said that Sultan didn’t eat pork because of his religion. Dorothy, of course, was highly embarrassed….a little confused and flustered, to say the least. I felt sorry for her. I should have made this clear during our previous conversations….but it simply did not occur to me.

Sultan handled the situation like the true gentleman that he is. He laughed and immediately assured her that everything was OK….that there was enough other delicious food that he would not miss the ham. In fact, he said, it would simply mean more ham for me to eat. Fortunately, Dorothy had cut thick….very thick….slices of cheese for the sandwiches. They, by themselves, made an appetizing and yummy sandwich, especially when combined with the other food she had prepared. Sultan handled the situation flawlessly…..and we happily moved on to pleasant conversation.

Being fairly assured that they would welcome Sultan with open arms….and I mean that almost literally….we started on our journey mid-morning. To make the trip more interesting…for me, at least….we opted to take a different route to Farmington. We took US 75 south out of Topeka and continued on highway 75 until we reached US 54. We then turned east toward Nevada, Missouri. The route took probably an extra 45 minutes, but we were not in a hurry. And, it is probably the most direct and straightforward route. There wasn’t anything special about “scenery”….but it did eliminate the necessity to depend on the GPS.

We stayed in Carthage, Missouri, overnight and continued on to Farmington the next morning. Our plan was to eat lunch with my cousins….hang around until perhaps 1:00, at the latest, and then start back home. On our way back home, we planned to stop at Sam’s farm in Pleasanton. I had calculated that we would reach Sam’s farm around 4:00….and had told Sam to expect us.

Indeed, they were happy to see both of us. Our visit, as usual, started with happy conversation….and then moved to the dining room for lunch. Well…. This time Dorothy informed Sultan that she was NOT serving ham…and amusing reminder of what had happened the last time. We all laughed as we recalled the incident….and the proceeded to eat our lunch. And talk….and talk….and talk…. Dorothy has an

outstanding memory…. Did I mention that she is 92 years old??….and regaled Sultan with many interesting and funny stories from the past. Sultan was an eager and attentive audience (I had heard the stories before.)….and before we knew it, time was a critical factor. We took a few quick photos….and by vital necessity, our visit came to an all-too-soon end.

We hit the road for Sam’s farm. “Well,” I rationalized, “Maybe we can make up some time by some intense driving….and perhaps just a bit over the speed limit.” This may have worked, but there were tons of highway construction…..the same highway they were working on

last summer when we drove down there. If anything, highway construction moves at a slower pace in Arkansas than it does even in Kansas. And, I always thought that Kansas took First Prize when it came to slow progress. Anyway, it became painfully evident that we were running seriously behind on our schedule….and we were helpless to do anything about it.

“Oh well…. Maybe we can make up some time when we finally get out of the construction area.” That was nothing more than wishful thinking. By necessity, we had to stop at a rest stop along the way….we had to drive back through the heavy traffic areas of Joplin, Carthage….etc. And….I hate to bring this up…..but Sultan had left the charging cable for his cell phone in our motel room from the

previous night. The owner was kind enough to send a text saying that he had found it….and was holding it for us. Another necessary…..but highly critical delay. The bottom line: We were forced to send Sam multiple messages….each one postponing our arrival time until a little later.

I was highly embarrassed by the delays….and I hoped that we were not causing Sam any undue inconvenience. It was after 6:00 when we finally pulled into Sam’s farm. Sam was waiting….apparently unruffled by our late arrival. (Who knows what he was probably thinking, though!) He offered us a snack….we visited for a short period of time….looked around a bit….and then, because we wanted to reach home before it got dark, said a premature good-bye….and started for home…..cutting our visit shorter than we had previously planned by probably two hours.

Normally…almost always….my planning is much better than this. But, I suppose when it involved family whom I had not seen in about a year….highway construction that seemed to go on forever and ever….and the demands of Nature…. Maybe this is to be expected. Combining the two visits into one day was no doubt a mistake. Accomplish one goal at a time….and make sure there is ample time for each goal. But, we had an amiable visit…..and, we did make it home just as the sun was setting.

Sultan and I did make a couple other sightseeing treks during the summer….if one can classify driving to Topeka as a “trek”. Sometimes it is difficult to find interesting things to do in Topeka. There is not an abundance of sightseeing opportunities. There are the old stand-byes, the Capitol Building, the Kansas Museum of History, Old Prairie Town…..and those are the place where we went. Admittedly there are still some places where I have not yet been….even after living around here for 48 years. So this is not the time to complain about the lack of things to see or do in Topeka.

At any rate, we made our obligatory visit to the Kansas Museum of History on the far west side of Topeka. This is a site I have visited dozens of time….dating from the time I was teaching 6th grade up until Sultan’s visit. For those of you who have already been there, I think you will agree with me that the museum does an adequate job of depicting Kansas history….ranging from prehistoric times, through the time it was occupied by Indians, progressing through the migration of farmers following the Louisiana Purchase, the strife and conflict of the Civil War…plus the social and economic developments that take us to today’s environment.

For me, the only thing that stands out about this visit was a slightly embarrassing misunderstanding. As we walked into the museum and paid the entrance fee, I asked, mostly as a rhetorical question, if we were allowed to take pictures….and if so, were were allowed to use a flash. The volunteer working at the reception desk said, Yes, not only could we take pictures, but we could also use a flash. I was rather surprised that she said we could use a flash. But…. Who am I to argue? Actually, this was good news. I could take better pictures. And, if taking flash pictures was OK with her….it was certainly OK with me.

As we walked through the museum, I took several pictures of Sultan

standing in front of various exhibits….and he also took some of me. Everything went well, until we were in the final stages of our visit. A guard….probably THE guard….approached me and said that using a flash was not allowed. I told him….politely, of course….that the girl at the reception desk had told us it was OK. “Well, it isn’t,” he said. We agreed to stop….and he disappeared, leaving us a little embarrassed and self-conscious, since there were a few other people in the museum…..People who were NOT using their flash. A few minutes later, the guard reappeared and said he had talked to the girl at the desk, and she had given us the wrong information. Well….OK. We had already stopped taking flash pictures…..and we were also at the end of the tour.. On the way out, we sort of slinked past the girl….figuring we had probably perhaps created an unpleasant situation for her, too.

 

 

 

As I said, I have been to the Kansas Museum of History so many times, that it is no longer very interesting for me. But, I think…and hope….that Sultan enjoyed the brief look at the history of Kansas…and that he came away with a slightly more educated picture of our past. I am almost certain that he found the American Indian exhibits more interesting that I do….and probably also the exhibits of the involvement of Kansas in the Civil War.

On another weekend, we paid a visit to Old Prairie Town….formerly know as the Ward-Mead Mansion. Basically this is an outdoor museum, centered around an historic Topeka Park. Other old buildings have been donated and moved to the premises….and a historic old Kansas village of sorts has been created. There are also scenic and colorful gardens of flowers and shrubs that create a graceful atmosphere of a bygone era. The grounds are often rented out as a wedding venue, and each year the annual Apple Festival is held there. Each Christmas the mansion and grounds are adorned with elaborate Christmas decorations.

However, on a daily basis, the mini-park seems to be sparsely

attended…..although it is well worth a visit. Normally, I have had the misfortune of

arriving too late in the day, and all the buildings are closed. But, the Saturday afternoon that Sultan I visited, many of the buildings were open. We walked into the drug store….complete with an old fashioned soda fountain, booths and a juke box. For me, it was a nostalgic visit back into my past….when I was in high school and college. The major after school meeting place was the drug store. We students would congregate at the soda fountain and sit on the revolving stools….or we would crowd into booths….and sip on our chocolate or cherry Cokes or cherry limeades….or perhaps order a chocolate malt. Inevitably, somebody would “put another nickle in….in the Nickelodeon…”….in the juke box, in other words. We would sit and talk…and listen to the latest pop tunes of the day. Yeah…. We actually talked to each other. That was our form of communication. No cell phones…no text messages….no Facebook….or Twitter. We had to actually look at each other, open our mouth….and talk.

The drug store sort of recreated this all but forgotten gathering place. Only this this time, is was only Sultan and I. We each ordered a Coke….a plain old Coke. I don’t think this place served chocolate or cherry Cokes. In an attempt to recreate the atmosphere, I decided to put some money in the juke box and play a few tunes. The selection of songs, I must admit, was severely limited, but there were still titles that I recognized. The only problem was: A coin had gotten stuck in the juke box….and the thing was jammed up. In other words…. It wouldn’t play. The woman who was working there opened the juke box and proceeded to attempt to repair it. She did basically what I would have done: She kicked it….hit it….and otherwise persuaded the offending coin to complete its circuit and drop where it was supposed to drop.

 

 

 

 

 

So…. We sat and listened to some music….attempted some conversation. But, as they say…. “You can’t go back in time.”…. And, I really do not think Sultan understood much of the “flavor” of what it was like to be a teenager in the 1940’s, 50’s and 60’s. Life for him is probably unimaginable without his cell phone in his hand….without his text messages….without his Twitter… And, as with almost any of today’s youth, it would be useless…..a waste of time and energy….to try and convince him that our life back then just may have been a more wholesome and satisfying life. And, certainly a life with less violence and domestic conflict.

 

 

 

 

Our final major endeavor at sightseeing was a trip to our State Capitol Building. This is basically the home of our elected government….both houses of our conservative, backward legislature meets here….and it is home of our lowlife, narcissistic governor. I mean…. What more is there to say about it? Again, this is a building I have visited numerous times. The first time, like

everything, is the best, however.

In previous years…up until the tragic events of 9/11, visitors could enter from any of the Capitol doors. But, nowadays there is only one entrance. That entrance is on the ground level on the north side of the building. Although Kansas has an unrestricted “open carry” gun law in effect….everywhere except medical facilities and buildings that have their own privately funded armed guards….every visitor must still pass through a metal detector…making sure they are protected, even though the remainder of the public is not.

The Capitol Building was completely renovated a few years ago at a cost of something like $350 million….completed over what seemed an interminable length of time….but probably somewhere around 3 years. I will admit that the building looks good…even grand….and is dramatic and historic.

Sultan was immediately attracted by John Brown….the itinerant rabble rouser who traveled the nation carrying out his personal violent campaign against slavery. From the first picture in the basement visitors center to the larger than life mural of John Brown

in the grand foyer of the Capitol, Sultan continued to express his admiration of the probably deranged self-proclaimed crusader against slavery. That was entirely OK with me….although perhaps personally, I would not choose a hero who undoubtedly would be very much at home in an institution for the severely mentally ill. But, on the other hand, it is an inescapable fact that John Brown was a color figure in Kansas history.

We wandered through the hallways of the building more or less at will, examining the murals and other artifacts, gazing upward into the magnificent dome, taking pictures in the Old Supreme Court Chambers, as Sultan stood behind the podium and pantomimed a

speech of fire and brimstone….and outside the Governor’s office. As usual, we were running behind, and too soon, before we had the opportunity to look into the Senate and House of Representatives Chambers, a voice on the PA system announced that visiting hours had ended….and everybody must exit the building.

 

 

 

 

After leaving the Capitol Building, we walked around the two-block square ground for a while, taking pictures, and then concluded our expedition until another time.

 

 

 

 

Even though we were able to do several things and go several places during the time Sultan was with me….and although we had a joyous and fun time together for those two and a half months…. As I said in the beginning, when I started planning this blog, the only things I could think of were the bad things that happened. They tended to overshadow the good things…..and for sure, they were always lurking in the background, affecting almost everything that happened during the summer.

It was a Sunday night, July 2nd. It was around 10:30. Sultan was already preparing to go to bed….or at least, get into his bed to so he could look at the cell phone! I was sitting in my office, preparing to go through probably 200 e-mail messages that had accumulated throughout the day. As I sat here in front of my computer, a couple drops of blood fell from my right nostril. Of course, I immediately reached for a tissue, expecting that there was really nothing wrong….and maybe there was a sore or a cut somewhere on my nose.

There was neither a cut nor a scratch nor a sore…. I had a nosebleed. Lots of people have nosebleeds. I am sure that at some time in my life, even I had a nosebleed. I wasn’t very worried. I rolled up some tissue….stuck it up into my nose….and pinched my nose as hard as I could….just like the First Aid book recommended. I could see out of the corner of my eye that the tissue was rapidly becoming red….soaked with blood. I rolled another tissue to replace the one soaked with blood….expecting that the bleeding would soon come to an end. I tried to keep the pressure on my nose. After using several tissues, I began to become a little concerned. Why wouldn’t the bleeding stop?

I called to Sultan who was in his room, unaware that anything was happening. When he came into the office and saw the blood, he immediately became concerned. Neither of us knew of any other remedy other than to continue to pinch the nose….and to keep replacing the bloody tissues. The bleeding continued at a steady pace….showing no sign of letting up. We were steadily using tissue paper….and the trash can beside the desk was receiving more and more blood filled tissue papers.

Sultan was worried…..maybe even a little bit scared. I was not feeling so good about the situation myself! After a while, Sultan began insisting that he take me to the emergency room at Stormont-Vail Health Center….my hospital….in Topeka. Hoping that at some point….and by some sort of miracle….the bleeding would stop, I resisted.

At some point, we decided that I should take my blood pressure. The blood pressure was an alarming 220/120….or something like that. I asked Sultan to bring me a Lisinopril pill….my blood pressure medicine. Probably at least an hour had passed by…. But, the high blood pressure was the turning point. I agreed with Sultan that the best choice would be to go to the Emergency Room. Sultan was relieved, to say the least. While still stuffing tissue into my nose….and continuing to pinch it shut, I somehow changed my clothing….and we prepared to leave for Topeka. Before we left, we grabbed a new box of tissue.

I discovered that I was also feeling quite weak. Walking was difficult. I doubt if this was related to the nosebleed…..but it surely did not help matters. Without breaking any speed laws….seriously breaking them, at least….Sultan headed toward Topeka. I knew Sultan was scared and nervous. He had never encountered anything like this before. Well, neither had I, for that matter. But, he remained calm….and always reassuring. Always in control of himself….and always offering comforting words.

As we drove along….Stormont-Vail is probably 30 miles from our house….I kept hoping….in vain, it turned out….that the bleeding would stop….that we could turn around and head back home. But, contrary to my wishes, the bleeding did not stop. In fact, it seemed to get progressively worse the closer we got to the hospital. It was difficult to even switch the tissues to absorb the blood.

We finally pulled into the parking lot of the emergency room. When I got out of the car, I was lightheaded and exhausted. I could walk only a few feet before I had to stop, hold on to Sultan….and rest. Fortunately, a security guard spotted us….and came hurrying out with a wheelchair. I was still clutching the box of tissues….still trying to control the bleeding. By this time, of course, the front of my shirt was covered with blood….as well as my face.

I found out one thing about the Emergency Room….well, probably universally….: Blood attracts attention! Fortunately, the receptionist was able to quickly pull up my records….and I was immediately rolled back to a holding area where nurses took over. I felt rather badly about getting blood over everything….but, I suppose this is a hazard they have dealt with before. I was nervous; Sultan was nervous. But, throughout the entire ordeal, he stayed calm, helpful….and more or less in control of the situation.

By now, it was well after midnight. For the next four hours, they attempted to stop the bleeding. My blood pressure was still sky high, so they gave me a pill to help reduce it. They put some sort of uncomfortable clamp on my nose….something that looked like a prop from a horror movie. It was intended to clamp the blood vessels in my nose closed, and probably help the blood clot.

For the next three or four hours, they worked to stop the bleeding. It would be far more accurate to say that Sultan and I worked to stop the bleeding. Most of the time, Sultan and I were left alone in the room while the nurses and the doctor attended to other patient…or victims….who were in the Emergency ward….or whatever. I kept the monstrous horror-device clamp on my nose….and kept inserting…and removing….the bloody tissues.

Early in the game, Sultan requested…and received….a new box of tissues. It was a good move on Sultan’s part. The bleeding showed little, if any, inclination to stop. As nurses…or the doctor….would periodically make an appearance in the room, either Sultan or I would ask, “What is causing this?” or “Isn’t there anything you can do about it?” “Can’t you do some sort of surgery to close the blood vessels?”

Just in case they might have thought I was a poor homeless, indigent person, I pointed out on at least a couple occasions that I have excellent insurance…..and it would fully pay for anything they needed….or wanted….to do. This all fell on deaf ears. The most common response was, “Well, we will be back later to check on you.”…..and then they disappeared into the labyrinth of cubicles.

Sultan sat and talked to me. I am not sure not exactly what we talked about. But, during the entire ordeal, he was calm…and reassuring….and encouraging. And, also just a bit exasperated that nobody seemed willing….or able…to give any answers about what was happening….or what measures they were taking….or going to take….to solve the bleeding problem.

The recurring question seemed to be, “Are you taking Plavix?” Of course, already having a complete list of my medications, they knew the answer. And, it was obvious that the Plavix was one of the main reasons the bleeding would not stop. Plavix is a drug that prevents the blood from adhering to the stents that had been inserted into two or three of my heart arteries eight years or so earlier. I had been taking it faithfully since my cardiologist had prescribed it. Now….it seemed to be the major culprit in the uncontrollably bleeding.

The good news seemed to be that my blood pressure had returned to near-normal limits.

Sultan was getting sleepy. And, he had good reason to be sleepy. He had been sitting patiently in the room with me since our arrival at around midnight or so. Poor Sultan. I felt sorry for him….and for the inconvenience I had caused him. But, he did not complain….ever. In fact, I think he was finding the experience to be much more interesting and fascinating than I did! As a future doctor, I can imagine that he was gaining some valuable insight of what lay ahead of him. It was definitely a new experience for him. After he was more or less assured that I probably has not going to die, I think it started to become a semi-educational experience.

Around 4:30 A.M…..this would be Monday morning….the doctor came into the room and took a look at the bleeding situation. The bleeding had slowed considerably…although it was still bleeding a little. The said that he was going to insert an absorbent device…..he called it a Tampon….into my nose. It was a long, cylinder shaped device made of tightly packed gauze. He warned me that it was not going to be pleasant….but to bear with him. When I know that something is going to help me, I can withstand a great amount of discomfort….even a little bit of pain. He put the cylinder in my nose….and kept saying, “Hold on. This is not going feel good.” as he proceeded to shove it further and further into my nose.

“OK… Let’s leave this here for a little while and see what happens.” And…then he left again….leaving me still lying in the bed….but now with a white gauze cylinder sticking out my nose.

It has been a long, miserable night….for both Sultan and me. Finally around 6:00 or so, the doctor reappeared. He took a look at the cylinder….and said I could go home now. That was it. “Go home.”

By the time Sultan I arrived back home, the sun had already risen. We were both beyond exhausted. Sultan went to sleep in his bed. And, I went to sleep in my recliner….the recliner which would become my bed for the next several weeks.

They had scheduled an appointment with the ear/nose/throat doctor for Wednesday. We arrived at the doctor’s office at the appointed time. When I attempted to walk to the doctor’s office, I knew immediately that I would not be able to make it. I was lightheaded, dizzy and disoriented. Sultan helped me back to the car. I had only walked a few feet…but it seemed like a mile back to the car. After sitting in the car for a few minutes, I got out to make another attempt.

“I don’t think I can make it,” I told Sultan….again.

“Let me go and see if I can find a wheelchair.”

While I was trying to make up my mind….a mixture of stubbornness and pride, I suppose…..the entire world just sort of disappeared….and I sank slowly….and unceremoniously…..to the to the ground. I don’t think I was unconscious for more than a second. But, long enough to send Sultan scrambling for help. Fortunately, there was an employee of the doctor’s office in the parking lot. She immediately went running to find a wheel chair… In the meantime, a First Responder happened to also be in the parking lot. He was at my side in a flash. Fortunately, he was a big, strong guy! I rested against his knee until a nurse came hurrying out with a wheelchair. Somehow, they lifted me up and into the wheelchair…..and wheeled me into the doctor’s office.

I am really not sure why I was even there. Basically, he did nothing….told me nothing of value….had no answers to my questions. They did give me something to eat, however…..and no doubt billed my insurance for a five-course gourmet meal.

I wish this was the end of the story….

Two weeks later….on a Sunday night….at approximately 10:30 P.M…..I was sitting in my office….. Sultan was preparing to go to bed…… We repeated basically the same scenario…. My nose was bleeding steadily, and with no sign of stopping.

Sultan was in enrolled in class by this time….and he had to go to school the next morning….Monday. This time we elected to call 9-1-1. It was probably a wise decision. My nose was bleeding even more profusely that the last time….even though I was lying down in the back of the ambulance. The attendant worked valiantly to stop the bleeding. But, by the time we reached the Emergency Room, it was a major bleeding event.

I was by myself this time, however. But, just like a broken record….or a movie that is being played again and again….the procedure was the same. Sort of like, “Been there….Done that.”

After the bleeding was more or less under control….again somewhere around 6:00 A.M. or so, I called Beryl and asked him to come pick me up. I spent the morning at my brother’s house….waiting until Sultan was out of class and could come get me and take me home.

Needless to say, I was not at all pleased with either experience at the Emergency Room. They managed to stop the bleeding. That I give them credit for. But, there were no answers as to the WHY. No attempt to do anything beyond stopping the bleeding. Again, I told them a couple times that I have excellent insurance (something they already knew by looking at my records) and anything then needed to do was fully covered. They chose to do nothing, however.

Upon reflection, I suppose I was expecting too much, perhaps. In the Emergency Room they look upon their job as treating the immediate symptoms….and then making space for somebody else. I still firmly believe they should have admitted me to the hospital….and treated the cause….not just the symptoms. They never did this…..and neither did any of the doctors I saw subsequently.

Well…. Around 2:00 or so, Sultan showed up, smiling, but concerned….and we made the trip back to the Ranch once again…..

This is only a small part of the story…..but, hopefully, it is enough to explain why my health problems were a factor….and more specifically, an adverse factor….in all the activities we engaged in during the summer.

And…. Indeed, the Plavix seemed to play a major role in the uncontrolled bleeding. My cardiologist took me off Plavix completely, saying that after one year, Plavix is no longer necessary or needed to protect the stents. He also reduced my aspirin dose from 385 mg a day to 82 mg….a baby aspirin, in other words. Thankfully, these measures seem to have helped….maybe even solved the problem. It is October now, and….knock on wood….the nosebleeds have ceased to be a problem.

I would be less than honest if I did not emphasize again how important Sultan was to me during this period of time. I honestly do not know what I would have done….or how I would have managed….if he had not been here. I am sure I would have….but I do not even want to contemplate how different and how difficult it would have been.

There were two other notable events that we celebrated….or at least, observed….while Sultan was here. One was the Fourth of July. Before Sultan arrived in June, I was planning for a gala celebration of our own. Plans were still vague and being developed, but I envisioned an outdoor feast…at our house….spending part of the day in Topeka at their 4th of July gala (something I had never done

before)…..perhaps breaking one of my own long-standing rules and buying a few fireworks…..and, then attending a major fireworks display somewhere in the area. And, who knows? Maybe I may have even made a couple political speeches along the way….

But, as fate and fortune would have it, I was in rather bad shape….unable to walk in a stable manner, short of breath, light-headed and slightly disoriented. Looking back on those terrible days, I have no idea what the problem was. And, for sure….the doctors didn’t know, either. If they did, they kept it a deep, dark secret. They certainly did not tell me.

In the afternoon, we drove to Topeka to check out the celebration which had been advertised heavily on TV. We expected to see Kansas Avenue blocked off….and swarms of people crowding the street. When we arrived…. There was nothing. Kansas Avenue was virtually deserted. We checked Washburn University, a former venue for the celebration. Nothing going on there. It appeared to be locked down tight.

“OK,” I thought. “I know there are a bunch of things going on at Lake Shawnee.”

A vintage car show had been billed as one of the top attractions of the day. This was an event that I was sure Sultan would find to be interesting….and enjoy. We arrived at Lake Shawnee. Where is the celebration? The craft booths? The food vendors? Where was the much publicized old car show? The only thing going on was

apparently an outdoor concert. We had no problem finding a parking spot. Why should we? There were very few people there! Sultan and I slowly walked toward the sound of the music….or noise would be a more appropriate description of the sound….and found a stage had been erected….and some sort of local wanna-be band was playing….or attempting to play. A few people were seated in lawn chairs in front of the stage. And, basically, that was it!

By this time, I was so exhausted that I waited while Sultan went to get the car. I did not have the energy or the strength to walk back to the car. I felt miserable….not only for myself, but also for Sultan. He couldn’t possibly be having any fun. But, there was never a complaint. We drove back home….and then we did something that I

have never done in the 48 years I have lived in the Valley Falls area. I did it reluctantly…and under the cover of darkness. I did not want to ruin my reputation….or provide any speculation or gossip opportunities for the local-yokels.

Sultan and I went to the fireworks display in Valley Falls! It was dark, of course, and we parked on the cemetery road and waited for the fireworks to begin. Oh…I don’t know. They tried. It was probably a display that is typical of many small communities with limited resources and expertise.

Yes…. We rather enjoyed it. At least, we were doing something to celebrate the holiday. Let me qualify that statement. We enjoyed it up to a point….and then it seemed to become redundant. Exactly how many fireworks of exactly the same kind can a person

watch…..and not get just a little bored. I was expecting the display to last around 15 minutes…..20 at the maximum. But, bless their little hearts, they had obviously decided that this was going to be a genuine spectacle. The display continued….on and on….for more than 30 minutes. We waited…and waited….for the big finale. Perhaps a flag of the USA….or one last powerful display where the sky would virtually light up. That would be the signal that it was over. But….as we sat and waited, the only way we knew that the display was over was then cars began to leave.

(I might add that Sultan was ready to drive away on a couple occasions. And, he would have, if I had not stopped him.)

So…. That was a First for me….and, I can imagine, also a Last.

The other “big event” that transpired was my birthday. Yes…. Let’s call it a celebration! For at my age, every additional birthday is a cause for celebration. We had invited a friend of ours for dinner on that day….although we took great care not to mention that it was my birthday. As it happened, he called and said he was not feeling well, and he would not be able to come up. We were disappointed, but we went ahead with our plans for the meal that Sultan had begun to prepare.

Actually, we spent a pleasant day by ourselves. Sultan presented me with a t-shirt. (There is a picture of me wearing it somewhere in this blog.)….and he had also bought a birthday cake. I was very pleased with the day. What better way to spend it than with Sultan.

The real reason….the “legal” reason….Sultan was able to spend the summer at my house was the fact that he was enrolled in an English course at Washburn University. Since he possesses an an education visa, it was mandatory that he be enrolled in a college course. On the days that I did not need the car, he drove it to Topeka and back. On the days when I needed the car for something, he drove the pickup. This arrangement seemed to work well….although I am beyond certain that Sultan was happy that most days he was able to drive the car! The pickup runs fine….but it has no air-conditioning, no power steering, no power brakes….no power anything. And, even a boy who spent his life living on the hot, sandy desert learns to appreciate comfort and the other amenities of modern transportation.

Sultan enrolled in a writing class. He took the class seriously and spent a great deal of time in his room researching and writing the various essays that were assigned to him. On occasions, I proofread his writing, and throughout the duration of the course, I could see a constant and steady improvement in the quality of his writing and of the content. His fluency improved; his vocabulary expanded; his writing became more cohesive and comprehensible. Certainly, he became more confident in expressing his opinions and thoughts on paper.

 

 

 

 

All the other problems aside, there is no doubt that the four weeks he spent in the English composition class were definitely beneficial and definitely were not a waste of time. There is no doubt in my mind that Sultan had made substantial gains in his English language ability and that he returned to his home with a stronger and more durable grasp of the English language. Sultan approaches whatever task he faces with determination, optimism, and self-confidence. In this case….and in other endeavors that I am aware of….it has paid off. He finished first in his class. Now he is enrolled in medical school, and there is no doubt in my mind that he will graduate first in his class….and go ahead to become my personal physician.

Although there really is not a lot to say about it…. Almost every day this summer, Sultan faithfully and willingly participated in some form of exercise. For the first few weeks, he went running consistently….only taking off a couple days to let his body rest. At first he ran on the Ferguson Road. The Ferguson Road, which was transformed from a muddy, often almost impassable, road into the most heavily traveled road in Jefferson County, aside from the state highways, is not an ideal place to run. The traffic is still constant and the threat of danger is always present.

Sultan began running at Paradise Point, an abandoned state park a few miles south of our house. Not only is there far less traffic….actually, little, if any traffic….but the terrain is more varied, and if offers a variety of changing landscapes and elevations. We measured and marked a four-mile course. This made it possible for him to adjust his distance to fit time and energy conditions.

Later in the summer, Sultan discovered my old bicycle hanging in the garage. When he asked if he could ride it, I should have said a resounding NO! But, after making this discovery, I don’t recall that he ever ran again. The bicycle became the love of his life…at least, the love of his leisure time life. Poor “Running”…. Forsaken for something more glamorous and perhaps something more appealing! But…. It actually was a good thing. Sultan was able to ride the bike more independently….and on days when I absolutely did not feel well, he was able to take the bike and go riding by himself. I constantly worried about his safety. But, all things worked out well…. Sultan returned home every time he left for a ride.

Yes…. The summer was an interesting summer. I experienced the joy and satisfaction of Sultan’s presence. I also experience his caring manner and his devotion to me during the health problems that I encountered. As I have recounted, we did an abundance of interesting things and made some delightful trips to visit some of our favorite people. In other words….. We just had some good…and memorable…times together. It was a summer that will linger in my memory for years to come.

On the other hand…. I think I can say with little hesitation or with no exaggeration….insofar was my health is concerned….and considering the misery and anxiety I experienced, July and August were probably the worst two months of my life. But, if that is the worst it will ever get, I will survive. Especially if Sultan is around to help and offer encouragement.

Now the time had come to get ready for our kick-ass trip through the Western USA.