Cleveland IV

It's that time again - another appointment at the Cleveland Clinic.

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You didn't miss the post about trip #3 (it would have been titled Cleveland is Closed), an official version was never posted. Here's a recap: Michelle and I arrived in Cleveland at 9:00 p.m. We went to each of the restaurants along E. 89^th St. in search of food for Michelle. Despite the signs indicating the places were open, they were all closed. We asked at one place why they were closed when the posted operating hours showed they'd be open, and the security guard simply said, "We're closed". Michelle negotiated some yogurt at Subway and scrounged some soup at the hotel. Drove all that way only to find out that part of the city closes at 9:00. The appointment was uneventful and nothing unexpected happened. Drove home. The turnaround trip happened while Michelle and Lju were finalizing the purchase of their store and I was being held hostage by a virus. It was a tight time-frame since I was also leaving the next day with Jessica's hockey team for a tournament.
Didn't see that recap either? It's not there. The team brought home silver after the championship game went to shoot-outs. But the real highlight is that Lorraine and I went to Bingo and won!

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Back to today.
It's the one-year follow-up visit. My traveling companion for this trip is my son, Andrew. Also on board is Kate, the voice of John's new portable navigator. It's not long before Kate and I have a disagreement. She wants me to get off the 190 in Buffalo and take surface roads to pick up I-90. I stick with my instincts and proceed along my usual route.

We enter the toll road in little traffic. Just us and the 18-wheelers cruising along. We pass a Caution, Deer Prancing on Hind Legs sign and 1/2 mile down the road, Bambi and her mother tentatively move from the woodsy median toward the westbound lanes. I slow the car to see what they're going to do. The doe takes a couple more steps toward the highway then prances back to the woods.

In Pennsylvania, we trade seats. We've muted Kate on the GPS navigator. We decide to let her keep track of our travel stats, but that's it for now. Unfortunately for Andrew, beginning at mile #3 and through to the Ohio state line, the Interstate is under construction - only one lane is open and the speed limit's reduced to 45 mph. We gas up at the edge of Ohio and switch seats for the final leg.

Kate agrees with my usual route to the hotel. Apparently Kate is holding a grudge over having been muted: she fails to tell us that all the roads around the hotel and hospital are being reconstructed - Euclid is closed completely to traffic; same with 93^rd; 89^th is torn up, but passable at very low speed.

After unpacking and checking in at home, we go looking for food. Based on the November experience, I know better than to venture anywhere but the lobby...where, at the restaurant, you can order food until 10:15 (it is 10:00 when we start looking), or order room service until 10:30. I guess nobody ever gets hungry late at night around these parts.

Andrew eats in the lounge and we catch a couple innings of the All-Star Game. He comments that it's not a very happening place. I explain that it's not a club - most of the guests at the hotel are here for the hospital services, not the party.

Next ...

Spotlight on Shopping

On the elevator back to the Skyway Level the car stops at the 3^rd floor. The doors open and 2 officers from the Cleveland Clinic Police Force jump in. "Ma'am we've got an emergency, you need to leave the car," one says to me. I exit and move well out of the way. There's a lot of commotion here. Garbled voices bark instructions on the cops' walkie-talkies. The police want to take a patient to 1-S (I know 1-S is the O.R./Surgery Center), one staff wants to wait for the On-Call to show up, another is taking and recording vitals. Amid the beeping from the P.A. system, the walkie-talkies cutting in and out and phones ringing, three white-jacketed staff run from the ward to the front of the elevators. The space is filling up quickly. There's no stairway to be seen, so all I can do is stand against the wall and try to take up less space.

Another elevator car arrives and 2 more staff rush off. Two women then calmly disembark. One woman is holding flowers, the other has a large teddy bear. There's no space left here. The On-Call arrives and agrees they all need to go to surgery STAT. The patient, the On-Call, the police and someone else take my elevator (the doors had been held open the entire time). Most of the other staff get on the 2nd car. The remaining staff return to the ward. The two women provide ID and get permission to visit. Once all the elevator doors have closed, I step forward, push the down button and wait for another elevator to come.

Andrew and I pack up and head downtown. I've never actually checked out the city on other trips. Andrew doesn't want to see any of the museums or galleries. He wants to shop. We head to Tower City. After exploring 3 levels of stores (including the food court), Andrew adopts a new pair of shoes into his family of footwear (the kid's got some Summers in him, for sure), welcomes a new hat to the house and a hard-to-find CD.

We're leading the rush-hour crowd out of the city. I run into pump problems in Mentor, OH, which coupled with the freezer-issue at the hotel means no meds for the return trip. Andrew understands it might be a looong drive and doesn't even ask to drive through Pennsylvania.

DJ ScAndrew spins the radio dial. We listen to 5 seconds of every station the radio picks up. If we luck into something we want to hear, we stop the scan. As soon as the song is over ScAndrew starts the 5 second sampler again. After 25 minutes, we reconnect the MP3 player. We call on DJ ScAndrew at least once more before settling in the driveway at home.

We're just west of Erie when I spot the billboard...(this is a reproduction of the actual billboard). Having declined the matching tattoos at The Cleveland Shop in Tower City, we have to stop at the Stun Gun Factory Outlet.

The center aisles are filled with fireworks. Around the perimeter are cases filled with zillions of knives, daggers, swords and 5 models of stun guns to choose from. Cross bows, dart guns, blow guns, sickles, air rifles, nunchakus, razor blade stars and more are displayed on the slat-wall from floor to ceiling. I'm uncomfortable here at the Munition Supercenter. I've seen some of this merchandise in evidence bags on shows like Law & Order and 48 Hours.

Declarations regarding the use of stun guns surround the display :
"A charge for 1-2 seconds is like receiving a large shock. A charge for 2-5 seconds will cause temporary involuntary muscle spasms. A charge for more than 5 seconds will result in temporary paralysis."

"Can I get one?" Andrew jokes. "Not today," I answer.
"They're perfectly safe," Mike, the owner, says. "They're only really dangerous if a person has a pacemaker."
Since we're not Pennsylvania residents, we qualify to view the merchandise in the other warehouse. He explains that it's fireworks and stuff that's illegal to own in Pennsylvania, but as long as we use it outside the state, it's no problem.
We turn down the offer.
Thanks, Mike. We're done looking.

The Last 100 miles

Cleveland IV - The Final 100 Miles

Andrew takes the wheel from Erie to Angola. He refuels and we push to the border. Along the way, Andrew rates the food over the past 24 hours:
1. Chipotle Chicken sandwich
2. Angus burger from the hotel
3. Spicy & Sweet Chicken Wrap
4. Popcorn
5. Arby's sandwiches
6. Four bowls of cereal

At least the Arby's is far down on the list. At the border, the customs officer doesn't scrutinize. He asks one question: When did you leave Canada?
No I.D. No declaration. Nothing.
Guess we could have shopped around Mike's second warehouse after all.

One last stop along the way so Andrew can get his cell phone from the trunk.
His thumbs have been twitching for an hour in anticipation of catching up on his text messages.


Judging by this pic, it must have been exhausting for him!

And we're home.

"Thanks for the trip, Mom," he says.

Thanks for the trip, son.

Game Day. Every Day. Five Years Running.

Soon I'll have an update from Cleveland and one from Kingston for you to enjoy.

In the meantime, check out North Coast Hockey's
5 Year Anniversary Blockbuster Celebration.

I met Don Marinucci of NCH at his store in Erie, PA in February. North Coast Hockey offers a wide variety of quality equipment, accessories, NHL apparel and sports memorabilia.

"Just arrived are the new Vapor XXXX and Vapor XXV Composite Sticks, more 2007 NHL RBK EDGE Jerseys for youths and adults, NHL Licensed apparel and head-ware, player name and number t-shirts!" Check out some of the Feature Deals! Celebrate at NCH online with FREE regular ground shipping to anywhere in the Continental USA and Canada. No minimum purchase needed!

Register with nchockeynation.com and be eligible for exclusive NCHOCKEYNATION Team Member Benefits and Offers!

Does not apply to items already in layaway or special order. Does not apply to team orders.Promotional shipping charges and sale prices in effect until 11:59:59 PM EST Sunday, November 18, 2007.

"Dean Pepicello, Ray Kraus, Don Marinucci, Michelle Brown, Tracy Shallenberger, Eric Kauffman and Keith Kaval thank you for making North Coast Hockey the place to go for all your hockey needs!"

Congratulations Don and North Coast Hockey.

NORTH COAST HOCKEY 837 West 38th Street Erie, PA 16508

Destination: Cleveland

This is less a road trip, more a mission. It has been several years since Roni and I embarked upon a Road Trip together. We used to travel lightly - a case of water, a case of ginger ale, a toothbrush and some pyjamas each. The last time Roni and I took a true road trip, we threw all that, plus some juice boxes, water and pop into a cooler, some sleeping bags into the back and all the Tootsie Rolls 6 kids could want. Now we've added a box of sterile medical supplies, and a cooler of medication. A Flometric pump. A telescopic pole on a 30" base. Roni's laptop so she can work and 14 bottles of pills between us. Times sure have changed.

We picked 'the best' line at Customs, crossing from Canada into the U.S. Well, it seemed like a good choice. Neither Roni, nor I believe in regret. My philosophy is that one must consider all the information that's available at the time and make the best decision he can. That said, I regret that I chose this lane.

First, I had to explain the pole. Then the pump. And the cooler of medications (all in original packaging with original labels from the pharmacy). "I guess you got all those needles and stuff, too, then?" he drawled, rummaging through the box of tubing and syringes. "I use a needle-less system," I explained, flashing the intravenous port embedded below my clavicle. The packages in the boxes look like "needles and stuff", but technically, they're not. He didn't seem to care about the distinction.

Since beginning a regimen of TPN nutrition and IV medication I have travelled between Canada and the U.S. on many occasions. Why, just last month, Michelle, our two brothers and I entered the U.S. at a different border crossing, with all my usual paraphernalia, without any difficulty at all...well, except having to explain different citizenship and last names even though we are siblings.

Finally, we were allowed to enter. It's a road trip. Let the games begin! A sign in western New York state proved we were in The Zone after we both interpreted it the same way and made the same joke about it. Soon after that, at the same time, we made the same jokes at the end of a story. We kill each other, we're so funny!

Roni related a story about an online chat she was participating in recently. As she told me what she 'said' she moved her fingers in the air above the dashboard, imitating typing. I asked her to stop since it was evoking a memory from high school typing class. We had the same teacher. Her name was Ms....Ms...Ms...B.....also taught phys. ed....Ms. B. Curses! How do I inevitably get sucked into the remember the name of the person who....on these trips?

Soon, we found ourselves crossing into Pennsylvania. Roni has history with Pennsylvania. She loves the state so much that she has difficulty leaving it. She gets lost in Pennsylvania...every time. On that last road trip we took; again last year, in Philadelphia; the year before that, with Lori.

She wanted to drive, but I told her I was fine. I wasn't going to take any chances. I had to get to Ohio. Eventually, we stopped for dinner. We ordered and went to get our drinks at the soda fountain. I filled my cup 2/3- full with Dr. Pepper then added a little 7-Up, then topped it off with some more Dr. Pepper. I can't remember the last time I did that.

"What's that called?" Roni asked. "Mud-something. Muddy-something. Dirty..." Curses, it's that damn game again. We walked to a table in the nearly-empty restaurant. Just as I turned toward our table, I spotted a boy of about 10-years old at another table. I was thinking of approaching him to ask what it's called when you mix a bunch of different soft drinks together and then, I had it. I opened my mouth, but I'd lost the word. Roni encouraged me to retrace my steps to try to remember.

"That never works," I told her. But I did it anyway. I made the turn, looked at the boy and blurted out,"Swamp-water."

In Cleveland, we arrived at the hotel and Lori was waiting for us. After we got the rooms set up, I looked at Roni and said "Burnham."
"That's it," she agreed. "Ms. Burnham." (I also pulled out Ron Griffin's name, previously only identified as the guy who drove the brown Chevette). Turned out that Lori wasn't getting our Smokey and the Bandit bit, which confirmed it was a full-out 'You-had-to-be-there'.

[Cleveland Clinic]   [Smokey and the Bandit]

Mahogany and Mirrors

The Cleveland Clinic is like a city inside Cleveland. The Cleveland Clinic Police headquarters are located across from our hotel. The hospital spans an area of 6 city blocks by 3 blocks. There are several sites under construction as the facility expands. To say the organization is impressive is an understatement.

A shuttle bus took us to the International Patient Center to check in and receive my itinerary. The lobby of the International Patient Access Center immediately bestows a feeling of trust and confidence upon the patient. The polished marble floor reflected our images. Mahogany-clad walls with mantles, mirrors and showcases interspersed, displayed various gifts from patients: Ming Vases, Fabergé eggs and the like. It was a little intimidating.

My Registration Agent started the process inside her spacious office. I was asked to verify the info: My name: check. Address: oops, that wasn't me. Birthdate: oops, again. Email address: mine. The Agent made the corrections to the info then introduced me to my Financial Agent. They had all the correct info on me in this office. Next, I met Marina, my Concièrge. She escorted us to the first appointment and arranged a driver for the following day.

The day before, Roni presented me with a gift of Kick-it-up-a-Notch socks. Regular readers know well the Summers' obsession with Kick-Ass footwear and accessories. Refer also to:Kicking II . I had chosen a kind of Pippi Longstocking look for the day.

Back in the hotel, after the set of investigations, I contacted my Patient Coordinator to clarify my schedule for the next day. I also had to return calls to some of the staff who'd been trying to reach me in Ontario over the past 4 hours.

The Cleveland Clinic: It's technologically advanced. It's a world leader. The Ambassadors in the hallways greet each passerby with a cheerful "Good morning" reminiscent of the Monty Python bit. The atmosphere exudes Excellence, with capital E. Behind the mahogany, under the Ming vases, after the Diplomat patient-base has gone home, it's just like other outfits: misplaced data and records, communication barriers and conflict from the blends of formal and informal groups. It's not smoke and mirrors, it's mahogany and mirrors. It's actually kind of comforting, you know?

Having our own driver is a nice touch,too.

[Cleveland Clinic]   [Good Morning]

Mission: Reconn - Accomplished

We loaded up the car before our driver arrived. After 36 hours, the remaining Swampwater got tossed out, along with the usual collection of half-finished drinks I always leave in my wake.

I passed Roni in the lobby again without recognizing her. Her hair is growing back. I was so used to seeing her with no hair, or wearing a toque or scarf, it's strange to see her sporting a crew cut.

We arrived at the M-entrance. Roni had apparently done some exploring while I was out of commission yesterday. She led the way to the Metabolic Institute.

After another diagnostic investigation, the surgeon declared me a suitable candidate to have a gastric pacemaker re-inserted. We left with a commitment to receive the treatment and care that I need.

I handed the keys to Roni for the drive home. I was in no shape to drive. The relief in the car was palpable. Here's some of my thoughts on that drive:

It was good that I had done so poorly on the clinical tests to qualify for the treatment;
I told you so, Ontario's Ministry of Health;
Must be the lime-green socks!

We called John to tell him the good news...and left a message. We called Michelle...and left a message. We called Mom and Dad, and Dad was home. Through Pennsylvania, I didn't dare fall asleep with Roni at the wheel. I didn't want to wake up in Altoona!

Roni trusted me to drive from the restaurant to the gas station. "I know you," she warned. "You won't get out of the car when you come back."
"I promise, promise, pinky-swear that I will let you drive after I gas up," I promised. The pinky-swear locked it, I think.

We talked with Lori, and Joe, who said at first that he was OK to talk, but during the call, admitted he was up in the air, and it would be better to talk later. Then Jay.

Across the border without incident and home. We were tired.
Now we wait while the surgeon writes up the treatment plan, the finance department costs it out then sends it to me.

There's light at the end of the tunnel...and it's not a train.

Erie, My Dear

After an intense drive through wintry weather (ice, snow, white-outs) we arrived at the Avalon in Pennsylvania's third largest city, Erie. It was late, well early actually, and we had an early game to open the Sarah Backstrom Tournament.

The team breakfast was scheduled for 7:30 a.m. The itinerary supplied by Dan indicated the bus would leave for the arena at 8:30 a.m. Maddy knocked on our door at 8:25 to see why we missed the breakfast. Well, because we were still sleeping! Turned out the electrical outlet the alarm clock was using had an intermittent power supply problem.

Ready to go in 5 minutes, Jess was not the last one to board the bus - heavily teased, but not the last.

The tough and physical game against Pittsburgh didn't go our way. But we were in it the whole time. The players were caught off guard in the opening minutes: USA Hockey has not yet implemented the interference/hooking/holding rule changes. The players easily adjusted to the different style of the same game. Pittsburgh was a sharp team.

At "The Zoo", I held the door for Ed, who works the penalty box for Mercyhurst's women's hockey team. The women's team at Mercyhurst College is ranked #1 in the U.S. I learned a lot about Mercyhurst from Ed.

Ten hours off and we headed to the arena for game 2. This, against a team we play back home. Once again, we travelled great distance and played a team from next door. On the way to the arena, the players were complaining that their fans (us) are too quiet.

Never one to back away from a challenge, I promised to make a lot of noise in the stands. Before the game, I practiced with some thunder sticks. I sat behind the bench and pounded the glass, stomped my feet, whistled and carried on like a true fanatic. The other team's fans were frightened for my mental health. That one teen looked like he was frightened for his safety. Sure, they were pointing and laughing, but I wasn't letting it hold me back. (Think this was the first time somebody pointed and stared at me?)

There was no way the players would say we were too quiet. Lots of cheering, whistling, clapping, chanting. The metal floor and the bowl-style seating contributed a great echo effect. Oh yeah, the 12 of us were making quite a racket. Coach Mark subtly asked me to move from my seat immediately behind the players' bench. I had my choice of 9,976 other seats to make noise. I couldn't actually see the game from that spot, anyway.

We made some adjustments in the cheering section when the game escalated beyond the refs' control. Read Maximum Security


"It was the highlight of all the hockey games I've ever watched," said Madeline, Natalie's sister. And Madeline's watched a lot of minor hockey.

Read more about Erie

W-erie, My Dear

Late the next morning, a busload headed out for some serious shopping. There was another 8 hours before the next game. Mark and I found North Coast Hockey for some player's skate tune-ups. The owner, Don Marinucci, has a monopoly on hockey equipment and supplies in Erie. His store is well-stocked and the service is exceptional. Don's a transplanted Canadian, from Niagara, and ships product to several regular customers in Canada.

There, we met a parent from Webster, NY whose daughter plays for the Cyclones. Another parent from his team drifted in with some skates that needed sharpening. They were entertained and shocked as Mark recounted our Friday night game.

Turned out the Cyclones drew the quarter-final game at the Igloo and played just ahead of us Saturday night. They lost 1-0. The parents we met at the skate counter considered staying for our game...since we were up against that GTA team from the night before!

Our bench would be without Rachel. The refs determined she needed a game off to reflect on Friday's events. Our opponents were without one skater and one bench staffer. The staffer hadn't done any reflection. If he had, he wouldn't have stood in the corner during the warm-up skate hitting the glass, yelling at the players and swearing like a trooper.

The behavior of some dolts associated with that team was despicable. The epitome of what's wrong with coaching a play to win attitude into a team. A parent from that team actually stood outside our dressing room taunting our players. I was embarrassed for them....and I had embarrassed myself the night before as The Fan From Hell...so that's saying something!

We're lucky that our coaching staff isn't like that. Mark told the girls to keep their heads in the game, not to retaliate and stay out of the box. He reminded them that we play tournaments for fun. Mark expects a well-played game from his players. On the bench, sometimes we hear him holler out "Boards" or "Back" or "Go to the net". He gets emotional, sure. One time, I even saw him take off his hat!

I wasn't up to being the #1 Fan tonight. I tried. I really did. I used the thunder sticks, I stomped my feet. I whistled and clapped. Partway through the third, I had to excuse myself. It wasn't the game, I just wasn't feeling well. And what happened next?

Liz took a check and an elbow to her head then went down hard. She stayed down. The paramedic assigned to the arena sprang to action. With our trainer, they braced her neck and she went off the ice on a stretcher...straight to the hospital. She'll be OK.

Shaken, the team finished the game and boarded the bus. We didn't advance to the semi's.

Pittsburgh went on to win the tournament. My reign as #1 Fan lasted just 24 hrs.

Guys- even Miss USA was given a second chance!