While reading my brother and sister-in-law's blog over here, I learned that this month is National Blog Posting Month, a.k.a.NaBloPoMo, and if you can pronounce it, I say you're probably a better writer than me and you can probably craft a smarter blog.
But I digress. I've decided to participate, since I've been neglecting this blog for awhile (I find that when life is good, I write much less. Curious.) But I don't want to ramble on about my life. I want to actually talk about something that I feel passionate about, and this seems like a good opportunity to break a story that's been cooking for awhile.
A few years ago, my longtime friend and writing partner, John Hunt, came up with an idea for a comic book and asked if I would help him write the script. He and I had collaborated many times before, but it had been awhile, and I think I had emailed him one day and said, "I want to get back to work," and he pitched me the idea of Faith in the Unknown. The idea was simple: John felt that there were few adventure comics for kids anymore, and there were even fewer that appealed to girls, so Faith (the title character) is a teenage girl who travels the globe getting into adventures and trying to rescue her kidnapped parents, or as we pitched it, "Kim Possible meets Young Indiana Jones." Basically, we wanted to write the kinds of stories we enjoyed as kids. The first story arc alone has jet-pack fight, a mummy, and a giant shark, so how can it go wrong, right?
After writing a couple issues, we commissioned an artist to draw us a five-page pitch, and headed to San Diego Comic-Con. Unfortunately, we learned that the damn place is so crowded, that no one really has time to listen to pitches unless you get on a list that is about a mile long. John was able to use his industry contacts as a colorist and letterer to get us a tentative deal with a small-press publisher, but we soon learned that the company (which shall remain nameless) only pays on the back-end, and there is no guarantee that you will ever make any money, or that they'll ever even distribute issue #2 even if you do get them to take issue #1. So, we walked away from that one. Meanwhile, we had paid another artist to finish the book, because our first one had found other, steady work (He was that good!) This second artist was from The Philippines, so there was a language barrier we had to encounter. Even though we paid him gobs of money, we had to pay someone else to finish it up and then even re-draw a bunch of the pages because they were not what we wanted (John himself had to do a lot of drawing work on it.)
Fast-forward a few years, and suddenly Kickstarter is now the #2 publisher of graphic novels in the U.S., and printing costs for graphic novels has also come way down. So, this month, we plan to set up our Kickstater campaign and earn enough money to finally, after several years, to print Faith in the Unknown, at least the first story arc. I'm finishing up our video and taking care of the legal mumbo-jumbo, so stay tuned to this blog to follow our progress. I'll be making an announcement pretty soon when the Faith Kickstarter campaign is live. Stay tuned, and this month, you might see a dream come true.
Thursday, November 01, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Health Update: Adventures Suck When You're Having Them
The title may draw you in, but this will be a simple one. And probably the last Health Update for quite awhile. People still ask how I'm doing, so I figure I'll throw it out there.
For any newbies, in March of 2011, I started feeling really tired and my blood sugar was completely out-of-whack, so I did what any right-minded person would do in my situation: I went to my chiropractor. He told me that my iron count was extremely low, and I should probably go to my doctor. So I went to see my PCP, and his initial reaction when he walked in was, "You don't look very good." Later that evening, I received a call that my white blood cell count was ridiculously low, so low that they actually thought there must have been some kind of lab mix-up, because no human should have such numbers and be upright. An ambulance was sent, and I was quite discombobulated. The ambulance drivers asked what the problem was, and when I told them I didn't know, they said, "Well, you called us." I most certainly did not, was my reply. It was eventually discovered that I had Wegener's Vasculitis.
Long story short, after three hospital stays totaling over a month, a collapsed lung, a bone marrow biopsy, two blood transfusions, countless chest-rays and MRI's, and a revolutionary lung-wash technique, I was on my way to recovery. Of course, that was just the beginning. I had a visiting nurse and a daily infusion of anti-biotics for a couple months, plus all kinds of expensive pills and crap I had to take. I also had 4-hour infusions of a chemo drug called rituxim-ab every six months. I can pretty much only sum it all up by saying it sucked.
So, here's the update; Because life is so damn funny, nobody really knows what the long term effects of the chemo drug are, but I have at least one more coming in December, and then hopefully we play at wait-and-see. As long as my bloodwork comes back looking normal, I won't be doing that anymore. The real good news, which I just received last week, is that I can start dialing down the prednisone. Last year, I was put on 80 mills, and for anyone who hung out with me remembers, it made me kind of nuts (prompting my friends and I to coin the awesome phrase "roid-weird." My goal is to one day get that in the Oxford English Dictionary. Or at the very least, the Urban Dictionary.) I am now on four milligrams, and in eight weeks, I can lower it to three, and so on, lowering the dose every eight weeks. I'm not sure how anyone weened themselves off of prednisone without the benefit of an Outlook Calendar, because I sure as Hell wouldn't remember it.
I am still on a drug called lisinopril for my ravaged kidney, and have to take calcium and vitamin D every day because the steroids effect your bone density, but other than that, everything's coming up Milhouse. Considering how low I was just over a year ago, I have absolutely no complaints now. Well, okay, I could use a little more money, but other than that...
So, for Dursin's Final Thought (hopefully) on the matter, I have unsolicited advice for anyone willing to listen. If not, that's okay, too.
A.) I've said this before, but I can't stress it enough. If you feel weird, or feel pain, or not right in anyway and you can't figure it out, go see someone. Probably not a chiropractor, either, but whoever you trust to be able to go to and say, "Hey, I don't know what this is, but something isn't right." Most people (myself included) want to believe that "This too shall pass," but sometimes, things don't. I know a lot of people who have been stricken with all kinds of rare diseases, and thankfully, all of them have sought the proper treatment and are fine now. But you'll always read about someone going to the doctor for some small thing, and then they discover something horrible. Don't let it go. Seek help.
B.) if you do find yourself in a situation like mine, or any pain at all, really, and a nurse asks you what your pain level is on a scale of 1-10, don't say 3, if it's 7 or 8. There's no point in being a martyr. If you're there, the point is to feel better. Take the pain-killers. They will monitor you, and never give you more than you absolutely need, so you're not going to become an addict. But there's no point in lying there and being in a lot of pain if they can give you something to relive it.
Okay, I don't want to get too preachy. But, we only live once. Might as well do it right.
For any newbies, in March of 2011, I started feeling really tired and my blood sugar was completely out-of-whack, so I did what any right-minded person would do in my situation: I went to my chiropractor. He told me that my iron count was extremely low, and I should probably go to my doctor. So I went to see my PCP, and his initial reaction when he walked in was, "You don't look very good." Later that evening, I received a call that my white blood cell count was ridiculously low, so low that they actually thought there must have been some kind of lab mix-up, because no human should have such numbers and be upright. An ambulance was sent, and I was quite discombobulated. The ambulance drivers asked what the problem was, and when I told them I didn't know, they said, "Well, you called us." I most certainly did not, was my reply. It was eventually discovered that I had Wegener's Vasculitis.
Long story short, after three hospital stays totaling over a month, a collapsed lung, a bone marrow biopsy, two blood transfusions, countless chest-rays and MRI's, and a revolutionary lung-wash technique, I was on my way to recovery. Of course, that was just the beginning. I had a visiting nurse and a daily infusion of anti-biotics for a couple months, plus all kinds of expensive pills and crap I had to take. I also had 4-hour infusions of a chemo drug called rituxim-ab every six months. I can pretty much only sum it all up by saying it sucked.
So, here's the update; Because life is so damn funny, nobody really knows what the long term effects of the chemo drug are, but I have at least one more coming in December, and then hopefully we play at wait-and-see. As long as my bloodwork comes back looking normal, I won't be doing that anymore. The real good news, which I just received last week, is that I can start dialing down the prednisone. Last year, I was put on 80 mills, and for anyone who hung out with me remembers, it made me kind of nuts (prompting my friends and I to coin the awesome phrase "roid-weird." My goal is to one day get that in the Oxford English Dictionary. Or at the very least, the Urban Dictionary.) I am now on four milligrams, and in eight weeks, I can lower it to three, and so on, lowering the dose every eight weeks. I'm not sure how anyone weened themselves off of prednisone without the benefit of an Outlook Calendar, because I sure as Hell wouldn't remember it.
I am still on a drug called lisinopril for my ravaged kidney, and have to take calcium and vitamin D every day because the steroids effect your bone density, but other than that, everything's coming up Milhouse. Considering how low I was just over a year ago, I have absolutely no complaints now. Well, okay, I could use a little more money, but other than that...
So, for Dursin's Final Thought (hopefully) on the matter, I have unsolicited advice for anyone willing to listen. If not, that's okay, too.
A.) I've said this before, but I can't stress it enough. If you feel weird, or feel pain, or not right in anyway and you can't figure it out, go see someone. Probably not a chiropractor, either, but whoever you trust to be able to go to and say, "Hey, I don't know what this is, but something isn't right." Most people (myself included) want to believe that "This too shall pass," but sometimes, things don't. I know a lot of people who have been stricken with all kinds of rare diseases, and thankfully, all of them have sought the proper treatment and are fine now. But you'll always read about someone going to the doctor for some small thing, and then they discover something horrible. Don't let it go. Seek help.
B.) if you do find yourself in a situation like mine, or any pain at all, really, and a nurse asks you what your pain level is on a scale of 1-10, don't say 3, if it's 7 or 8. There's no point in being a martyr. If you're there, the point is to feel better. Take the pain-killers. They will monitor you, and never give you more than you absolutely need, so you're not going to become an addict. But there's no point in lying there and being in a lot of pain if they can give you something to relive it.
Okay, I don't want to get too preachy. But, we only live once. Might as well do it right.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Kickball Revisited
So, a few years ago (specifically, Sept. 24, 2009), I wrote about my kickball team, and how kickball was way more fun than it had any right to be, and how The Hang-overs had struggled and clawed and made the play-offs only to be defeated by the eventual winners, who went undefeated that year. And I mostly hated them and their strategies and their trying. Even though one of their players told us that we had played them harder than any team they had played all year, and he loved playing us, I still kind of hated them.
Fast-forward to 2012, and I'm pretty sure we are now that team. The Hang-overs, much like the Red Sox (although, not the 2012 Red Sox. More like 2007), have evolved from the lovable underdogs into the team that you expect to win every week. Well, that's because we have. And I'm not bragging, but a look at the standings has us winning with scores of 24-3, 24-4, 16-2, and 18-3, and a couple really close ones with the other green team, whom we will probably end up playing in the championship game. And they probably hate us just like I hated the winners back in 2009. I think that 2009 team that I hated even wore dark green shirts, which our team now has (in the years since our initial red, we have had yellow and a weird burnt orange-colored shirts. So, I am totally fine with green.)
Point is, yeah, we're 7-0, and everybody hates us. Except maybe the orange team, who didn't have enough to field a team last week, so a few of us jumped in, and almost defeated the other green team, who is our nemesis. So this is what's like to be on that side of things. This is what it's like to be the unstoppable juggernaut that the rest of the league can't stand. This is what it's like to be the Yankees.
But before you break out the crying towel for because we have lost our lovable loser status, let me say this; the last two years, we have been in the championship game and lost, and last year we lost in extra innings. And I was on the mound and coughed up the winning run then. After my big comeback that year, I really thought that it would be fitting for us to win it then. But alas, we lost. So, this year, after being so close three years in a row and not winning it all, I really don't care if we do have to stomp all over every other team. I want to drink out of that fucking cup.
This Sunday is the last regular season game, and the following week is the play-offs. Alert ESPN. The Hang-overs are coming.
Fast-forward to 2012, and I'm pretty sure we are now that team. The Hang-overs, much like the Red Sox (although, not the 2012 Red Sox. More like 2007), have evolved from the lovable underdogs into the team that you expect to win every week. Well, that's because we have. And I'm not bragging, but a look at the standings has us winning with scores of 24-3, 24-4, 16-2, and 18-3, and a couple really close ones with the other green team, whom we will probably end up playing in the championship game. And they probably hate us just like I hated the winners back in 2009. I think that 2009 team that I hated even wore dark green shirts, which our team now has (in the years since our initial red, we have had yellow and a weird burnt orange-colored shirts. So, I am totally fine with green.)
Point is, yeah, we're 7-0, and everybody hates us. Except maybe the orange team, who didn't have enough to field a team last week, so a few of us jumped in, and almost defeated the other green team, who is our nemesis. So this is what's like to be on that side of things. This is what it's like to be the unstoppable juggernaut that the rest of the league can't stand. This is what it's like to be the Yankees.
 |
| Hung-over in Burnt Orange |
But before you break out the crying towel for because we have lost our lovable loser status, let me say this; the last two years, we have been in the championship game and lost, and last year we lost in extra innings. And I was on the mound and coughed up the winning run then. After my big comeback that year, I really thought that it would be fitting for us to win it then. But alas, we lost. So, this year, after being so close three years in a row and not winning it all, I really don't care if we do have to stomp all over every other team. I want to drink out of that fucking cup.
This Sunday is the last regular season game, and the following week is the play-offs. Alert ESPN. The Hang-overs are coming.
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