Lana

PHONES AND WATCHES

My problem with phones — became apparent about a month after discharge. The hospitalization and preceding sickness scared my mother and sister significantly. So I committed to check in regularly… by video or phone.

At one point we were having bandwidth issues during a video call, so I turned my video off. The conversation abruptly ended to be replaced by several repeated “Are you still there?”. I turned video back on, and continued my (choppy) description of my week.

There were hints prior to this interaction of an issue: for example when my mother would miss things I said when I was looking away from the screen, or when I would try to ‘check-in’ while in a voiceonly meeting from my car and they would ignore my comments. But these were sporadic enough to be explicable other ways (like simply me not speaking loudly enough). The video-toggle interaction was a blatant confirmation that audio-alone would no longer work for me.

From that confirmation point onward, I stopped carrying a phone (even a smart phone) so I would avoid being in a voice-only situation or seem like I was ignoring calls from important people. Instead, I ignored calls from everybody, but made up for it by ‘just appearing’ as soon as possible. This behavior also improved my social interactions: I was always intensely focused on the current situation and had no phone (or watch) to distract me.

I had a special Apple Watch — to support my liver disease cover. Wearing a body-state monitor and alarm after discharge was very common among Stanford patients, and a smart watch could do this quite well.

- 43 -

A normal Apple Watch uses multiple LEDs and photodiodes (light sensors) to look at your blood flowing underneath it. This can see your blood oxygen and your pulse by lighting variations. Given my blood barely moves except when in dialysis, an off-the-shelf watch would not give ‘good’ numbers. But V5 provided a special one for cover. It is more like a screen saver in that it just generates results based on an algorithm based on an inputted ‘healthiness’ level. Reminds me of ‘Flying Toasters’, except for a less-fun pulse graph. Still definitely interesting to watch: I even sent screen shots to my family. None of which were real.

In spite of all the effort — into the technological watch hoax, after getting the fistula I couldn’t wear it. If you get a fistula, you can no longer wear any restrictive jewelry on that arm, including rings and watches. It may be that the fistula diverts a redundant blood supply, so if you pinch the remaining one you are effectively suffocating the cells in your hand. This causes minor problems like gangrene.

I could wear the watch on my right wrist, but that is unnatural for me. Further, I use my right hand to do things like drill steel, and the magnetic watch band very much enjoyed surrounding my wrist with sharp dust shards. Although amusing, this was a bit socially awkward to explain.

So the watch migrated to my pants pocket as a pocket watch for a while… and now is displayed prominently 24x7 on its charging stand. Like a tiny wall clock.

- 44 -

EL TORO

I drive very quickly — when the roads are clear & empty, and fairly slowly when they aren’t. On local roads I commonly drive exactly the speed limit. This appears to annoy people a little: they may desire to run over neighborhood kids at 40 mph. But given ‘El Toro’ is one of the biggest non-truck vehicles in existence, they can gripe at it all they want as it enforces local traffic laws.

On freeways, in the middle of the night, the situation is different. It is possible to save hours each week based on how fast you chose to drive when hundreds of miles are involved in each trip. Because I can’t use a phone or fly on planes, I commonly need to drive to destination as far as 900 miles away (Seattle, San Diego, Salt Lake City, etc.) although most trips are a third of that. I am also very timeboxed due to the dialysis appointments, which are only 40 hours apart. Saving 10 hours on 1200 miles of travel is critical to being functional let alone effective.

This is not a new vampiric trait though. I crossed from Philadelphia to Los Angeles in 30-some hours when I was 18. That is about 3000 miles depending on the route you take. Back then I thought my time was very valuable, but now I know it is.

‘El toro’ is my bat-mobile — I guess it should be named ‘el murciélago’, but I acquired it before the transformation. The name is from the grunting noise it makes when the air suspension releases.

It is a fantastic vehicle: I can transport 6 people or 10-foot 2x4s completely inside. And 12-foot pipes in jousting mode out the shotgun window. And I commonly carry a pretty large (almost 3 x 4 x 3 feet) dog/animal crate, to aid in pet retrieval.

- 45 -

The cage is for my dog “Rorschach”. While in the hospital, my wife offered me the incentive of getting a dog when I got better. The idea was that it would motivate me to walk Rorschach, which would help my physical recovery. And mentally, I would have to take care of Rorschach despite how badly I felt. The show “After Life” has that second type of dynamic: a dog’s existence keeps the main character alive.

So I decided to get a Belgian shepherd from a particular breeder, named it Rorschach, figured out a vet and trainer, and acquired a cage for its initial home. And then I died, so only the cage remains of that idea.

- 46 -