It seems that I have more damage from my early life in construction. My T9 vertebra has collapsed and T1-7 are headed the same way. That explains the terrible backaches I have been experiencing when I stand for more than 2 or 3 minutes. I already have 4 Lumbar vertebra fused as well as 3 Cervical vertebra. So why not some Thoracic ones? No thank you! I'm all through with surgeries.
Logic says that I should regret my days in construction, but I don't, in fact I love them. Building things satisfied my soul! I resisted efforts made to entice me into an office job and then, 25+ years after starting, I gave up and became an estimator. I had been a foreman, superintendent and a project manager; jobs that didn't require a lot of physical stress. But I never let the title stop me from working with my hands...and back. I'm sure that I have expressed these thoughts before, but I'm old, and I'm entitled to repeat myself.
But right now I am trying hard to find a memory of a project that I haven't written about before. Now that is hard work! We did a department store job in Fresno, back in the late 60s. Is that one to write about? We did a small shoe store in Santa Barbara during that era. All through the 60s and 70s, I was doing any good paying piecework job, houses or apartments. This was my weekend work. Then there were the smaller hourly pay jobs that rarely lasted more than a week or two. One was remodeling some condos, just off Wilshire Blvd. They were quite luxurious but they had never sold in the year (more or less) since they had been built. They were being remodeled to attract some customers. I remember that the GC had piled all of the furnishings down in the basement and said they were free for the taking. I took a couple of large 4 door kitchen cabinets and put them in my garage in Newbury Park. Others had taken stacked washer/dryer units, doors, dishwashers and even marble tiles from the entry vestibules. Now my memory says that I installed those big and very heavy cabinets by myself. That sounds like me. So my back problems were definitely caused by my choices...
Saturday, October 19, 2019
Tuesday, October 01, 2019
Something about being old
Ah, yes! The golden years of retirement. Well, the gold is disappearing quickly and is being replaced with Norco tablets for pain relief. But, here is a moment of honesty...I would not have changed my career for anything else.
As I mentioned earlier, I have COPD, and as part of my therapy for this insidious process of slowly dying from a lack of oxygen, I attend a program at the local hospital; Pulmonary Rehab. There are half a dozen or more in each class meeting, 3 times a week. We exercise with small weights or elastic bands, and we spend time on cardio-vascular exercise, such as treadmills, stationary bikes and the like. Part of the exercise is designed to help with balance and I had no idea that my balance was as bad as it really is. I believe it's called 'denial' as I already own 2 canes. Anyway, I started thinking about the projects I had been on where balance was critical. My balance saved me from injury or death many times. There was a time when I was welding exterior panel support clips onto the embeds on the edge of the slab. The slab, or slabs, were on a 22 story building. With a gloved hand I would hold the clip in position while my other hand held the 'stinger, or the welding rod. I was on my knees but I had to lean out and over the edge to be able to see where I was welding. Once the clip was where I wanted it, I had to shake my head in order to flip the welding hood down and over my face. Suddenly, everything is black. I can't see a thing. There is a brief moment where I had no sense of balance at all and in my mind I could see the ground, 240' feet below me. Then I struck an arc and a purple and gold light filled my vision as I began to weld. Thoroughly engaged in my work, I forgot all about where I was.
200' or 20' feet, working on high rise construction is always dangerous and only a fool doesn't believe that. But that was one of the things I loved about it. I never dwelled on it, but I never forgot it. It began on the very first job I had, as a first stage apprentice, and my journeyman extended a plank out the side of the building, on the 4th? floor, stood on the inside end of it and asked me to walk out on the plank and place a piece of lath where it was missing. "Don't worry, I won't step off of the plank." was what he told me. I had to do it. I was just an apprentice and had to do whatever my journeyman told me to do.
That question mark at the end of 4th floor? The incident happened over 55 years ago and my memory can't handle it...the building itself was just 9 stories in height so it could have been any one of them, except the first floor of course.
This story reminds me of another...but first, if you want to start at the beginning go here
As I mentioned earlier, I have COPD, and as part of my therapy for this insidious process of slowly dying from a lack of oxygen, I attend a program at the local hospital; Pulmonary Rehab. There are half a dozen or more in each class meeting, 3 times a week. We exercise with small weights or elastic bands, and we spend time on cardio-vascular exercise, such as treadmills, stationary bikes and the like. Part of the exercise is designed to help with balance and I had no idea that my balance was as bad as it really is. I believe it's called 'denial' as I already own 2 canes. Anyway, I started thinking about the projects I had been on where balance was critical. My balance saved me from injury or death many times. There was a time when I was welding exterior panel support clips onto the embeds on the edge of the slab. The slab, or slabs, were on a 22 story building. With a gloved hand I would hold the clip in position while my other hand held the 'stinger, or the welding rod. I was on my knees but I had to lean out and over the edge to be able to see where I was welding. Once the clip was where I wanted it, I had to shake my head in order to flip the welding hood down and over my face. Suddenly, everything is black. I can't see a thing. There is a brief moment where I had no sense of balance at all and in my mind I could see the ground, 240' feet below me. Then I struck an arc and a purple and gold light filled my vision as I began to weld. Thoroughly engaged in my work, I forgot all about where I was.
200' or 20' feet, working on high rise construction is always dangerous and only a fool doesn't believe that. But that was one of the things I loved about it. I never dwelled on it, but I never forgot it. It began on the very first job I had, as a first stage apprentice, and my journeyman extended a plank out the side of the building, on the 4th? floor, stood on the inside end of it and asked me to walk out on the plank and place a piece of lath where it was missing. "Don't worry, I won't step off of the plank." was what he told me. I had to do it. I was just an apprentice and had to do whatever my journeyman told me to do.
That question mark at the end of 4th floor? The incident happened over 55 years ago and my memory can't handle it...the building itself was just 9 stories in height so it could have been any one of them, except the first floor of course.
This story reminds me of another...but first, if you want to start at the beginning go here
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