Misadventures of Billy Bump

Looking, hoping for equality

2012-01-21T08:14:00.000-06:00

There are days when I'm outraged over gays being treated as second/third-class citizens. Phil and I have dealt with so many challenges since his paralysis and near-death experience in February 2001. We've also been together for more than 23 years. Yet gay couples like us continue to incur the wrath of anti-gay zealots.

Blacks and other people of color were grossly mistreated for much of this nation's history. At long last, progress has been made in accepting them. I'm hoping that one day there will be more acceptance of gays. . I'm convinced that there would be less homophobia if people actually sat down and talked one-on-one WITH us. Not AT us.

Jerry Smith: Bill, your picture reminds me of when I got off the Greyhound bus in Gulfport, MS in November, 1966. It was the first time that I saw the colored only drinking fountains and bathrooms. While the fight against racism continues, the fight against the hatred and stupidity aimed at gays must go on as well.

Robert Steinborn: Bill, it’s my theory that: Many people do not believe that gay, lesbian and transgener people can actually have a genuine, loving and committed relationship only because they’ve never witnessed one close enough to realize…. There really isn’t any difference! From what they’ve been told our relationships are based purely on physical desire.

It has only been the last 15 or 20 years that gay and lesbian people have felt somewhat secure enough to live their lives openly and with dignity, even though there are still places in this country where this can be fatal.

I applaud you and Phil not only for the success of your incredible relationship, but your courage to share it with so many people. By your example I am certain untold numbers of people have learned that gay people are children of God too.

Hope through the depression

2012-01-04T17:56:00.002-06:00

Sometimes I've been consumed by grief. Well-meaning friends tell me, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle." I've taken issue with that on many occasions. Still, I try to find something positive to take away from even the most negative experiences.

Two years after Phil's paralyzing accident in February 2001, he nearly died after taking an overdose of pain killers and spent a week in a hospital psychiatric ward. He felt better about his own situation after getting to know individuals who were facing even greater challenges. When I picked him up at the hospital some patients hugged Phil and thanked him for his encouraging words.

I was very depressed late last year after being in a caregiver role for more than 10 years and wondered if I could go on. Fortunately, some close friends helped me weather a great emotional storm. Interacting with people in DUI Court and in treatment settings helps me a great deal. One of my favorite people at work thanked me for running an outpatient group while she was off. "They adored you," she told me the other day. That lifted my spirits. Phil and I will keep pushing on!

Jeanette Trumeau, a friend posted this on Facebook: " I am amazed by Bill's candor in writing about their homelife. We are the same generation, but in our family it was deal with your problems without letting anyone outside the immediate family know what was going on. I envy his ability to talk about things that are personal and use them to teach the rest of us. Thanks, Bill!"

I am proud that Phil and I continue to survive. We've faced serious -- almost overwhelming -- physical, emotional and financial challenges. We've dealt with homophobia, and can't understand why so many individuals fear gay couples like us. Our "gay agenda" is to make it through another day!

Sharing my feelings is much better than stuffing them. I've lost friends who suffered in silence. They would have been surprised how much people really cared about them. My more than 30 years of sobriety have helped me realize that stuffing feelings can have fatal consequences.

Thank You for your role in our survival. You provide hope!

2011-12-18T09:22:00.000-06:00

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Letting go of grudges

2011-12-17T16:53:00.005-06:00

I have a special interest in grudges and resentments because I've seen first-hand the insanity. One friend didn't talk to his brother for almost 30 years. They made up a few months before the brother died of cancer. My mom and her best friend didn't talk for seven years. But they made up a few years before they died. A relative moved out on his wife and lived with his secretary a few years. He moved back with his wife when he was dying of cancer. The list goes on!

Following are moving comments -- many quite profound -- from friends after I posted my concern about grudges on Facebook. The holiday season is an especially good time to resolve old grudges and resentments.

Steve Steinke: Ah yes...so easily seen. Should be so easy to set aside. Just doesn't work that way in many cases. My mom slipped into a coma and passed away. Her last words to me were more hurtful than comforting, although I know she loved me. One does not forget those things we cannot ever fix.

An important lesson, a painful lesson of mine, actually grew out of some difficult moments in my 20's. While pinned down by friendly crossfire in Vietnam, the bullets were so close to my head that I could hear them buzz by. In that moment, I promised myself that if I got out of that safely, I would live a life that included outreach at times when it otherwise seemed unnecessary. And in my mom's passing once I got home from Vietnam, I resolved to do something nice, say something good, to someone every day...all the while knowing there may not be another chance tomorrow. And work hard to fix things that are broken while we still can. I'm givin' that a shot still.

Bob Dudy: The point- negative actions will eventually kill you- and you'll still have to cross the bridge you burned on the way out.

Larry Pfeiffer: Our family has a history of non-communication just because it is the other person's turn to call. It's sometimes nuts. Forgiveness - letting go - can be a real healing event. Saying "I'm sorry" first demonstrates that power of forgiving ...

Lisa Black: When someone is dying, it changes everyone's perspective. It's too bad we can't all hold onto that live-each-day-to-its-fullest feeling. I remember my dad's parting gift as spending a day at the Milwaukee zoo, watching my boys on a carousel and saying,"I'm alive and watching my grandchildren," with tears flowing down his cheeks. He died a few months later. He took a picture of the boys that day that always reminds me of those few joyful moments.

Suzanne Coleman-Ferris: My sister has not spoken to me or my brother for 7 years. We are not sure why and we have made numerous attempts to reach out. She has no children or extended family and lives, as far as we know, on the West coast. It is very sad as we have so much to share with her. However, we cannot live our lives around this and just move on hoping that she is well and happy.

Lisa Black: That is very sad, Suzanne. I will never forget a story I wrote about a man whose younger brother was institutionalized in the 1930s because of his mental retardation (that's what they did back then). The parents and siblings were discouraged from ever visiting him. They reunited about 10 years ago - the brothers were in their late 60s and 70s. Both men have passed away now, but the lessons learned by all still gives me goosebumps.

Steve Steinke: I do think the holidays tend to accentuate both the celebrations and the pain in our lives; all that we have, and all that is missing. Bill, you have a full plate of those things too.

Nancy Miles-DeBruin: Suzanne - I am so sorry to hear that. She can be found and an olive branch now & then can be offered.

Suzanne Coleman-Ferris: Well, Nancy, there is nothing I can do about it. I have a great life and would like to share it with her. I have made many attempts and once sent her all the genealogical research I had done. It was returned unopened with a note on it that said "return to sender" "refused" then I got a letter that said "do not ever contact me again" She has since moved. I can't worry about it.

Bill Hetland: Seems like you've done just about everything to reach out, Suzanne. Your sister may eventually regret not reaching out to you. This kind of thing happens in so many families. Actress Julia Roberts and her actor brother have been estranged for years. I'm angry with one of Phil's nieces who hasn't talked with him since his accident 10 years ago. When I called her several months after his paralysis and asked why she hadn't at least called, she said, "We want to remember Uncle Phil the way he was." Some people seem to be beyond reach.

Suzanne Coleman-Harris: Gee Bill that is awful. I think you are right. Some people are out of reach. I also think some people don't have the capacity to feel in an emotional way. From their perspective it is everyone else's fault and no actual feelings come into play.

Mary Dagostino: My dad and I didn't see each other or talk for about 20 yrs although we were in the same events a few times. He died 5 yrs ago and he wanted to see me..I saw him at the hospice for a few days before he died. He couldn't walk, anymore. I knew that I could walk in the room and back out as needed or as I wanted to and he couldn't follow me or trap me..so I could handle seeing him. He apologized profoundly and sincerely for things he had done to me and for things he hadn't done. It was a good ending which gave us both peace and love. I would not go back and spend time with him those 20 or more yrs if I could and I don't miss seeing him. I miss what was not there. He was a child molester and a severe abuser...I still have nightmares. There are not always regrets...but still there can be nice good-byes.

Bill Hetland: Thanks for sharing your very moving story, Mary. I commend you for having the courage to see your dad before he died. In spite of -- or because of -- all that you endured as a child, you became a very caring and loving person. You broke that cycle of violence.

Mary Dagostino: I am thankful for the gift my dad gave to me at the hospice...it's in my heart to stay! He even FAVORED me...favoring ME in front of EVERYBODY was his last act on earth....it was an AWESOME gift...very hard to explain what that means to me. It was also an extreme gift from God. God sees all that goes on in our lives and is never too late!

What If There Isn't Anymore

2011-12-01T17:15:00.000-06:00

Phil and I have dealt with just about every challenge under the sun since his paralyzing accident in February 2001. We've been fortunate to have the ongoing support of friends and family members. Some -- for whatever reason -- rarely keep in touch with us. We want everyone to know how important it is for people not to give up on us.

I don't know who wrote this beautiful message about loving people while they're here. It's worth sharing. As we grow older, it has special meaning. Bob Pyzka, a friend since childhood, sent it to me. I have since posted it on Facebook and emailed copies to friends. Some of them have, in turn, passed on this important message.

WHAT IF THERE ISN'T ANYMORE

One day a woman's husband died, and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of their bedroom, the wife was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't "anymore". No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more "just one minute."

Sometimes, what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away, never to return before we can say good-bye, say "I love you."So while we have it, it's best we love it, care for it, comfort it,fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick.

This is true for all relationships..... old cars... And children with bad report cards, and dogs with bad hips, and aging parents and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.

Some things we keep -- like a best friend who moved away or a sister-in-law after divorce. There are just some things that make us happy, no matter what.

Life is important, like people we know who are special.. And so, we keep them close!

I received this from someone who thought I was a 'keeper'! Then I sent it to the people I think of in the same way... Now it's your turn to send this to all those people who are "keepers" in your life... Suppose one morning you never wake up, do all your friends/family know you love them?

....just in case I'm gone tomorrow...

'Choosing' to be gay, etc.

2011-10-21T17:32:00.000-05:00

I'm borderline insane when I continue to hear candidates say gays "chose" to be gay and that we threaten the sanctity of marriage. Sometimes reading something humorous helps keep me from grabbing them by the throat and saying, "You evil ignorant asshole!"

I like this from Lea DeLaria: "They say they're preserving 'the sanctity of marriage' - which means that two gay men who've been together for twenty-five years can't get married, but a heterosexual guy can still get drunk in Vegas and marry a hooker at the Elvis chapel. The sanctity of marriage has been saved!"

‎"When I was in the military they gave me a medal for killing two men and a discharge for loving one." ~Epitaph of Leonard P. Matlovich, 1988

The late great Paul Newman said, "I'm a supporter of gay rights. And not a closet supporter either. From the time I was a kid, I have never been able to understand attacks upon the gay community. There are so many qualities that make up a human being. . .by the time I get through with all the things that I really admire about people, why they do with their private parts is probably so low on the list that it is irrelevant."

Pigging out and other things

2011-10-09T18:24:00.001-05:00

As we're about to enter the holiday season where we give ourselves permission to pig out at meals, keep in mind what cranky comedian Lewis Black has observed: "Let's face it, Americans are fat all year round, but the holidays are when we really hit our stride. And you can bet the food we eat will be just as unhealthy as the families we're forced to visit."

I want the Republican presidential candidates to occupy our house in Kenosha. Great way to learn about our gay lifestyle!

A nice feature of working in DUI Court and using the Kenosha Library is both prohibit cell phones. However, some people still talk to themselves. That can be annoying.

As I was giving the grocery clerk a $1.50 coupon for dog food, the guy ahead of me said, "I thought only women used those." I chuckled and refrained from saying to the man, "Saving money isn't a gender thing, asshole!" The well-dressed, upper middle class man was with his delightful little daughter and I didn't want her virgin ears to go up in flames!

Regardless of your station in life: "Where there is hatred let me sow love" -- St. Francis Prayer

Young woman at coffee drive-up said she and colleagues enjoyed the music playing in my car. It was by Supertramp, made before they were born. Even old music can sound fresh!

Our leaders should pay attention to this suggestions from another of my mentors, Foghorn Leghorn: "Let's bury - I say, let's bury the hatchet, but not in anyone's head, boy."

I laughed at a recent feature on "Ellen." A woman who didn't understand abbreviations used in social networking sent a message to relatives about an aunt passing away. She signed off with "LOL" thinking that it meant Lots of Love. Phil and I did Laugh Out Loud!

A fun blog by Beth Mann features cell phone etiquette for morons. I love this: "You're not special because you have a cell phone. Small children and homeless people have cell phones. There are probably pets out there with cellular devices. Remember that when you're walking down the street barking orders like you're Donald Trump and thinking people are impressed. We're not."

Angie's a sweet energetic girl

2011-10-09T17:48:00.000-05:00

Phil and I officially adopted Angie, a young treeing walker coonhound, last month from Safe Harbor Humane Society in Kenosha. We became foster parents on Aug. 23 so that we could see how she'd interact with Phil in his wheelchair. No problem at all.

Angie fills a great void that was left by the passing of our beloved Boss, a faithful companion for 11 years. Boss was almost 13 when he died of cancer.

Angie's not only a treeing walker coonhound, she's also a chowhound. Our skinny and sweet, energetic girl packs away the food! One of the descriptions of her breed that I found on the internet is they look like a "tall and elegant beagle." That's definitely Angie.

Angie loves to chew stuff, not just ropes and other toys. She also enjoys bedroom slippers, tissue and other goodies. We're trying to teach her what not to eat.

She frequently sleeps on the bed with me during the night and relaxes with Phil while I'm away at work. Next big adventure for her is an exam at the vet's office.

A day in my (gay) life

2011-08-14T17:40:00.002-05:00

Here's a typical day in my life. It's been that kind of day in the more than 10 years since Phil's paralyzing accident, subsequent stroke and other major health challenges.

Up at 4 a.m.
Skim newspapers
Watch TV news
Set up Phil's medications
Short workout at Kenosha Y
Give Phil a urinary tract flush
Make his lunch
Help him on toilet/shower chair before health aide arrives
Leave for work in DUI Court at 7:10
Home about 1 p.m.
Help Phil on side 3 times until 9 p.m. to prevent bed sores
Give him second urinary tract flush
Do large load of laundry -- sheets on his bed changed daily
Review bills, other paperwork, wonder how we'll make it through each month
Try to do some housecleaning, yard work
Watch TV with Phil
To bed at 10:15 p.m.
I try to get Phil out of the house on weekends.

This may give you a sense why I sometimes feel overwhelmed. We're so fortunate that Phil is provided transportation for his monthly check-ups and catheter changes at the Milwaukee VA Medical Center. That saves me about five hours of travel and waiting.

All this craziness we're dealing with may also help you understand why I get so upset when I hear some politicians -- especially the religious extremists -- say that gay couples are a threat to the sanctity of marriage. Bullshit!

Humor and friends keep me going. Some folks quote that old line: God doesn't give you more than you can handle. There are times when I think I have been given far more than I can handle. Still, Phil and I continue to fight the good fight! Day by day by day!

Loving comments about Boss

2011-08-08T14:42:00.006-05:00

Phil and I continue to mourn the loss of our wonderful dog Boss. We're looking at the Safe Harbor Humane Society for a new companion, and hope to make another shelter dog a member of our family in the very near future.

Here are some loving comments we received after I wrote a letter to the Kenosha News about Boss.

Steve Steinke wrote: "You've captured the essence of Boss' love and devotion in your blog. Our pets ARE family. Their appreciation is patient and unconditional. When they leave us we sense "an empty nest," and must adjust. There will never be another Boss, but who knows, there may be another "son or daughter" in your future nonetheless. Now 10 years since our 16 yr-old Sasha left us, we still think about adopting."

Tony Walker wrote: "I agree with Steve, and think that you've expressed your feelings beautifully in words. There is no better reason for words to exist, no better use. Thank you, Bill. You shared Boss with us, and he will long be carried in our hearts."

Rich Hetland, my brother, wrote: "Losing an animal so beloved is like losing a family member. i know his memories will be with you and Phil forever. I wish I had more comforting words, but the times you had with Boss were truly blessed times. Stay strong. Boss would want it that way. Again, I can't tell you how bad I feel right now. It's as if I lost a family member because I know what he meant to the both of you. If there's a dog heaven, Boss will be at the head of the class."

Jessie Oberst-Firkus, Phil's niece, wrote: "I know how much Boss loved you both and how much you both loved Boss. He is resting now with no pain. He is watching down on both you and Uncle Phil making sure you both are safe. I am so very sorry. I love you both very much."

Dave Davis wrote: "Phil and Bill (aka Billy Bump). Thanks Bill for this blog, as it is a trip through every possible emotion known to man. I would wipe my eyes as I smiled reading about Boss and his being apart of the family. I would bite my lip in anger over Phils injuries and then smile over the love and caring for one another you both have; and the 3rd part of the puzzle , Boss. I believe Boss was very instrumental in Phils recovery and yours emtionally and spiritually. Your words alone show the passion all 3 of you had and still have for one another. Thanks once again."

Gary J. Kunich wrote: Bill: That was a very fine, loving tribute to Boss in today's Kenosha News. Nothing beats the unquestioning, non-judgmental love and affection of a dog. Hope you guys find just the right mutt to fill those paws."

Brenda Brockman wrote: "Thank you Bill for sharing this, very nice, I am glad that Boss didn't suffer too much from the cancer. He was a good 'friend' to all of us. Thank you also for sharing him with us."

Suzanne Coleman-Ferris wrote: "Bill that is very touching. Thanks for sharing it with us."

Canadian friend Alan Pyette wrote: "Read blog on your dog going to the world beyond.. i had a lab for 14 yrs.. good friend...good company ..always faithful...i now have a persian cat...nice but not a companion that a dog shares...i see where all your past troubles etc. you can still use your writing talent to share the good things in life with your humour despite your crazy world....all the best always..."

Patricia Kane Dobbins wrote: "I am such an emotional dork that I put off reading, then had to, and cried like a baby....those of us who are in love with our animals identify daily and quite frankly are still grieving with you and Phil........."

Safe Harbor Humane Society wrote: " When you are ready you are always welcome to come to our shelter and see if there is another 'baby' that you would like to love. We are so sorry for the loss you both feel right now, but I'm sure Boss would like for you to not be sad, but to be glad of the memorable times you have all shared. It is amazing how much our pets touch our lives, and in turn, how much we touch theirs."

Michelle Mascarenas wrote: "The unconditional love of a dog is amazing....sorry for your loss."

Scott Asbach, who I worked with at the Mesabi Daily News in Minnesota, wrote: "So sorry to hear about Boss. Hope he runs into Ozzy Girl, my chocolate lab that passed on into Doggy Heaven. They better not hang around those St Bernard’s. Take care my friend and I hope there is another dog in sight."

Pat Mattison, longtime friend who I worked for at the Belvidere Daily Republican, wrote: "I'm sorry for your loss, but my ol' lady's (wife Nancy) advice to you two is -- go get another "Boss" asap and you'll start healing right away!"

Linda Ball wrote: "Bill, that was a beautiful story! My 'Sparky' has been gone about 10 yrs and I still love him as much as ever. Miss him everyday. Yes, our pets become our 'family' too. So very sorry for the loss of your beloved Boss. ((HUGS))"

Bob Pyszka, a friend since childhood, wrote: "I hope that you and Phil are slowly adjusting to the loss of Boss. The pain will never go away, but will lessen with time. Count the blessings and all of the fun times that you had together. The good times will not go away."

Kristine Tukker wrote: "Bill, so sorry to hear of your loss. I had a dog also named Chance. He was always there to lend that look of understanding on even the most difficult days......I know you and Phill miss Boss immensely........"

Jill O'Connell wrote: "Oh Bill, now I am crying like a BABY. I know that pain. I wish I could describe so eloquently like you, but I really share the pain with you and Phil......RIP Boss and Moe"

Debi Pyszka wrote: "What a beautiful tribute, Bill. Boss was a wonderful unhuman being."

Letter on Boss in Kenosha News

2011-07-03T07:08:00.003-05:00

Sunday edition of Kenosha News published my Voice of the People letter on Boss:

Couple’s lives were enriched by their ‘son’

Boss, our beloved dog, died June 7. My life partner Phil Anderson and I adopted him from the Safe Harbor Humane Society in Kenosha on Jan. 4, 2000. He died a few weeks short of his 13th birthday.

Because pets like Boss are surrogate children to gay couples, their loss is especially traumatic. He was an absolute joy and a fantastic companion to Phil, who was paralyzed from the waist down in a 2001 accident.

When Phil, who’s also a stroke survivor, would return from his checkups at the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee, Boss would hop off Phil’s bed in our sunroom and bark loudly. I’d let Boss out so he could welcome Phil home.

A favorite memory is after Phil had been transferred to the VA’s Spinal Cord Injury Unit following surgery at Froedtert Hospital. Boss, who hadn’t seen Phil for several weeks, was so excited over seeing him that he raced across the floor, jumped on the bed and sprawled across Phil. Despite being in intense pain, Phil smiled and petted our “son.”

Boss died about five weeks after being diagnosed with cancer. He didn’t whine or whimper. He was brave to the end. I’m convinced Phil’s survival over the past 10 years is in part because of the love Boss provided.

Although Boss was a mutt, we thought he was beautiful — inside and out. The assistant at the vet’s office told me after I’d brought in his body, “You were a great family.” We miss you, Boss, our best friend and loving son.

Bill Hetland Kenosha

Mourning, celebrating Boss

2011-06-23T08:38:00.005-05:00

In loving memory of Boss:
"And when we die and float away
Into the night, the Milky Way
You'll hear me call, as we ascend
I'll see you there, then once again
Thank you for being a friend." -- Andrew Gold

Boss, our beloved dog, died June 7. When we adopted him from the Safe Harbor Humane Society in Kenosha on Jan. 4, 2000, we were told he was 1 and 1/2-years-old. Phil and I thought it was most appropriate to celebrate his second birthday on the Fourth of July because it represented his freedom from life in a shelter. Boss died less than a month short of his 13th birthday.

He was an absolute joy and a fantastic companion to Phil, who was paralyzed from the waist down in a February 2001 accident. When Phil would return from his monthly check-ups at the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee, Boss would hop off Phil's hospital bed in our sunroom and bark loudly as he looked out the window. I'd let Boss out so he could welcome Phil home.

A favorite memory is after Phil had been transferred to the VA's Spinal Cord Injury Unit. Boss hadn't seen Phil for several weeks. A staff member obtained clearance from security to allow Boss to visit Phil. Boss was so excited over seeing my partner that he scrambled across the floor, jumped on the bed and sprawled across Phil. Despite being in intense pain, Phil smiled and petted our "son."

Although Boss was a big dog, he took food gently and never tipped over the trash can in our kitchen. I never had to worry about picking up his poop on walks because he'd only go in our back yard. He loved riding everywhere with us, and I especially enjoyed taking him with me to the Kenosha Y. We'd take a short walk outside before my early morning workouts inside.

Phil loved teasing Boss. When other dogs would walk by the house, Phil would yell "Babies" and Boss would respond by looking out the window at barking at the "babies."

Like many dogs, Boss had a favorite Frisbee that I'd throw to him just about every day. However, he wouldn't return it because it was HIS Frisbee. He'd just prance around the yard as if he were saying, "It's mine! All mine!"

Boss died about five weeks after being diagnosed with cancer. He didn't whine or whimper. He'd ride with us in the car or the wheelchair conversion van. He'd get on the bed with Phil. He'd chase his faded pink Frisbee.

Boss was a mix of retriever, Australian shepherd and chow. We thought he was beautiful -- inside and out. The assistant at the vet's office told me after I'd brought in his body, "You were a great family." We miss you, Boss, our best friend and loving son.

Thankful for 30 years of sobriety

2011-05-05T09:02:00.001-05:00

Appropriately, my 30th anniversary of sobriety was on April Fools' Day. I am most thankful for that sobriety. The following Voice of the People letter appeared in the April 19 edition of the Kenosha News.

Celebrate triumphs in Alcohol Awareness Month

Recovery from alcoholism works. William C. Moyers of Hazelden says that’s a message that needs to be conveyed to politicians.

Treatment programs face significant funding cutbacks, in part because those of us in recovery aren’t sharing our stories. I’m one of thousands in Kenosha County who have a new lease on life because of treatment programs and 12-step support groups.

Almost 21 years ago, I began working for Nicasa in Lake County, Ill., an organization much like the one that helped me get on the road to recovery. On April 1, I observed my 30th year of sobriety. It all began in 1981 at Hazelden in Minnesota. As editor of the Mesabi Daily News on Minnesota’s Iron Range, I’d written about alcoholism. I finally came to the conclusion that the people and programs I wrote about applied to me.

My 30th anniversary was on April Fools’ Day. I’m still foolish at times but not nearly as foolish as when I was drinking. My sobriety has helped me in dealing with the many challenges that my life partner, Phil Anderson, and I have faced since he was paralyzed from the waist down in a 2001 auto accident. Had I been a practicing alcoholic, I would not have been able to help Phil.

My anniversary falls during Alcohol Awareness Month. Those who work in addictions take satisfaction in knowing our programs have helped countless individuals who have suffered from alcoholism. Those of us in recovery recognize most people who drink do so moderately and responsibly. For those who do have a problem with alcohol and other drugs, be assured that help and hope are available.

Bill Hetland Kenosha

Following is my Easter greeting for 2011.

Easter 1981 and 2011

Happy Easter:

I was nearing the end of treatment at Hazelden in April 1981 when Easter took on special meaning for me. I was on my way to new life as a recovering alcoholic. Visting me on Easter at Hazelden on April 19, 1981, were Mom and Dad, brother Rich and sister-in-law Bonnie, and good friend Aarne Rairamo and his father. It meant so much to me to have them with me on that very special Easter.

On Easter in 2011 I am grateful for my sobriety. For having Phil and Boss in my life. And for having loving friends and family. God bless! -- Bill

Easter spells out beauty, the rare beauty of new life. ~S.D. Gordon

Late friend Matt Fisk a caring, witty guy

2011-03-03T08:29:00.005-06:00

Matt Fisk, who died far too young on the last day of 2010, struggled with diabetes for many years. There were severe infections, hospitalizations, recoveries and setbacks. Yet, he remained wickedly witty and was a highly-educated, self-taught man. He was also a very caring individual.

I had written about Matt in a February 2008 blog entry and noted it's amazing how old friends can reconnect after a separation of many years and many miles. Such a friend was Matt , who was my favorite bartender when I was drinking up a storm at the Sawmill Saloon on Minnesota's Iron Range.

I hadn't seen Matt, pictured on the left with his longtime friend Bob Dudy, since about 1984 but I'd thought of him many times over the years. Despite being a bartender when I first knew him, he was among my friends who encouraged me to get treatment for my alcoholism. I knew I was in trouble when my favorite bartender said I needed to get help. So in 1981 I began my journey on the road to recovery at Hazelden.

Matt learned of my whereabouts in late 2007 via the Internet. We exchanged phone calls and email messages before he drove from his home in Duluth in January 2008 to help make some major and minor repairs in our home.

Matt and his friend Bryan Rhodes -- both carpenters and plumbers extraordinaire -- got the upstairs bathroom working for the first time in three years, put new flooring on my paralyzed life partner Phil's bathroom, rewired two ceiling fans, made some roof repairs and otherwise painted, cleaned and performed other feats at a most reasonable price.

Matt brought along his beautiful dog North who was more than tolerated by our jealous but equally beautiful dog Boss. Matt made a white-knuckle drive back home to Duluth on a windy, frigid and snowy Saturday. That was the kind of friend Matt was, always finding time to help someone in need.

Matt would make many new friends on the Internet, many of whom he would never meet face to face. When he died, those of us who had known him face to face and through cyberspace had lost a very dear friend!

Surviving 10 years of challenges

2011-02-13T16:26:00.000-06:00

It was Feb. 19, 2001, when Phil was paralyzed from the waist down in an auto accident. A stroke followed along with multiple seizures and surgeries.

We've experienced just about every challenge imaginable during the past 10 years. In a way we're fortunate we didn't know what we'd be facing. I must admit that there have been many times when both of us have felt like giving up! Somehow, we've survived.

We truly appreciate each other now more than ever! We appreciate friends and family now more than ever! We appreciate our dog Boss now more than ever! Each day is a gift. I hope we can share it with you for many days to come!"

George fought valiantly until the end

2011-02-11T09:50:00.004-06:00

George O'Connor, my dear friend and colleague, died recently after a long and valiant fight against heart problems and cancer. He also suffered from Alzheimer's. With him up to his final breath was Sue, his wife of 25 years who was inspirational as a loving caregiver.

Sue asked me to give the eulogy this past Saturday in a beautiful funeral mass at the Prince of Peace Catholic Church in Lake Villa, Ill. Especially touching was a ceremony that preceded the mass. Five members of the Cavaliers Drum and Bugle Corps, of which George was a proud member for many years, honored George with playing of the Taps. George was a snare drummer when the Cavaliers won their first national championship in 1957.

I worked with George for many years at Nicasa, a large substance abuse prevention and treatment agency in Lake County, Ill. A dedicated counselor and court liaison for the agency, George absolutely loved helping people get on the road to recovery. He would do anything to help a coworker who needed a hand. As a result of his dedication to staff and clients alike, George received our agency's Hector Rodriguez Customer Service Award.

He was very proud of his Irish Catholic roots. On St. Patrick's Day, some of the attorneys he worked with would call him "Father O'Connor." One attorney even gave him a clerical collar to wear on that day. A native of Chicago's south side, George was passionate about the White Sox. I chuckled at his response to the question, "What's the difference between a Sox fan and a Cubs fan?" George's answer: "A Sox fan can read!"

His wife Sue was relentless in making certain George received the best care available when he had to be hospitalized or placed in a nursing home. She was so upset with his treatment in one nursing home that she had him transferred to another. She helped him when he fell, she helped him when he couldn't eat, she helped him when he couldn't talk. Sue's love for George along with her great spirit and sense of humor helped her in her role as his caregiver. Herm Albright said: "A positive attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort."

A beautiful Irish saying is so reflective of George's life: "It is easy to be pleasant when life flows by like a song, but the man worth while is the one who will smile when everything goes dead wrong. For the test of the heart is trouble, and it always comes with years, and the smile that is worth the praises of earth is the smile that shines through the tears."

It was an honor to celebrate George's wonderful life Saturday with so many of the people who loved him. Thank you, George O'Connor, for being our friend!

Unconditional love from Boss

2010-12-18T09:08:00.001-06:00

The following "Creature Feature" column by Bill Hetland appeared in the Kenosha News on Oct.5, 2007. Boss turned 12 on July 4, 2010.

Like many gay couples, our surrogate son is our dog. We adopted our "son" on Jan. 4, 2000, from the Safe Harbor Humane Society in Kenosha. He's a retriever, Australian shepherd and chow mix we named Boss, as in boss of the house. Because we were told he was one and one-half years old when he entered our lives, we determined his second birthday would be July 4 -- a most appropriate day since it would mark his Independence Day from the shelter.

Boss has been an absolute joy and a real therapy dog, even though he's had no training. A few months after my life partner, Phil Anderson, was paralyzed in a February 2001 auto accident, a staff member in the Spinal Cord Injury Unit of the Zablocki VA Medical Center in Milwaukee obtained clearance from security to allow Boss to visit Phil. I still get chills when I think of Boss' excitement over seeing my partner. He scrambled across the floor, jumped on the bed and sprawled across Phil. Despite being in intense pain, Phil smiled and petted our "son."

I was reminded of the joy dogs can bring an a recent addiction treatment symposium in Chicago. A blind participant had his service dog with him. The dog looked so much like Boss that it was hard at times to focus on the presenters. I was thinking of Boss at home in Kenosha with Phil, lying on the end of his hospital bed in our sunroom. While friendly to the vast majority of people who stop by, Boss isn't afraid to growl if he senses someone might take advantage of Phil.

When Boss turned 9 this past Fourth of July, Phil and I gave him a large sugar cookie with frosting and red, white and blue sprinkles. Ever hungry and grateful for the Independence Days that he's experienced since we adopted him from the humane society, Boss quickly devoured the birthday treat.

I helped Phil, who also has a weak left arm from a major stroke, to his hospital bed in our sunroom a little after that noon that day. It was comforting to watch Boss sprawled out on the floor near Phil. When I'm at work and Phil's health aide has left for the day, I know that Boss is Phil's supreme, vigilant protector. We will always appreciate him for his unconditional love and devotion to both of us. God bless you, dear friend -- and our boss of the house.

Today's Creature Feature was written by Bill Hetland. He and Phil Anderson are longtime residents who have been together for 19 years. Hetland is court services and communications coordinator for an addiction prevention and treatment agency. Creature Feature is an occasional series about people and their pets.

Update: Boss was 12 on July 4, 2010. Bill and Phil have been together 22 years. We're so glad that Boss is with us this holiday season.

Michael Pyszka's spirit lives on!

2010-12-17T08:58:00.001-06:00

I was blessed to have known Michael Pyszka. He was an amazing young man who lived life to the fullest. I have so many fond memories of Michael and his brother Patrick during their growing up years. Their parents, dear friends Bob and Debi Pyszka, created a home that was filled with love, laughter and compassion.

Phil, my life partner, and I were honored to be at his wedding to Brie, the love of his life. We know that Michael's spirit lives on in countless people whose lives he touched.

Following is the obituary from the Canyon Courier on Michael. His achievements are inspiring!

Michael Anthony Pyszka, 30, of Evergreen died Tuesday, Nov. 30, 2010, at Lutheran Hospital in Denver.

Mike was born Dec. 26, 1979, the son of Robert and Deborah Pyszka in Kansas City, Mo. He attended Blue Springs High School, where he was an Eagle Scout, played soccer and played trombone in the band. In the 1996-97 school year, he was an AFS exchange student in France.

He graduated with honors from Hononegah High School in Rockton, Ill., in 1999, before attending Colorado College, where he graduated with a degree in international political economy in 2003.

Mike married Brianne Henry on June 2, 2007. Brie and Mike moved to their dream town of Evergreen in May of 2009, where along with Brie’s parents, Dr. Bob and Carol Henry, they designed and created All Kids Dental. Mike was employed by Cam2 International in Evergreen.

Mike was a proud father-to-be, expecting his first child on Jan. 8, 2011.

Michael was a special man. He was so full of love and compassion that his energy and charisma drew people to him. He lived every day to the fullest while sharing his love freely and spreading joy and laughter without restraint. In his short 30 years here on earth, he lived more than most hope to in a hundred.

Michael was an amazing husband, son, brother, soon-to-be-father and friend. We are all fortunate to have known Michael and are blessed to have had him touch our lives. Although Michael will be truly and deeply missed, he will always be in our hearts and souls.

Mike is survived by his wife and soon-to-be-born child; his parents; brother Patrick (Emily Ayshford) of Chicago; parents-in-law Robert and Carol Henry of Evergreen; grandmothers Betty McCain of Lee’s Summit, Mo., and Evelyn Pyszka of Rockford, Ill.; sister-in-law Shannon Henry (Jon Habighorst) of Milwaukee; brother-in-law Josh (Megan) Henry of Houston. He was preceded in death by his aunt Betty Pyszka Cory and his grandfathers Robert S. Pyszka and Loyde McCain.

Services were held at the Evergreen Memorial Park on Saturday, Dec. 4, where Mike was surrounded by hundreds of friends and family to help celebrate his life.

The Michael A. Pyszka Memorial Fund has been established the help fund Baby Pyszka’s education. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made at any Colorado 1st Bank location. To write a condolence to the family, visit http://www.evergreenmemorialpark.com/.

Stress tips, thoughts during the holidays

2010-12-17T08:26:00.000-06:00

Holiday stress reduction tips for people in recovery

A recent Kenosha News feature spread by Diane Giles on holiday stress reduction tips for people in recovery included my comments and most of the following tips that I provided. They really apply to anyone who feels stressed.

* Keep a good attitude and show gratitude. Do not set your expectations of the holidays too high.

* Manage your time. Don't pack the holidays with so many events that you'll be exhausted.

*If you feel depressed or lonely, volunteer to help an organization that assists others who are experiencing difficult times.

*Avoid toxic people. If family members are extremely negative try instead to surround yourself with people who boost your spirits. Attend 12-Step meetings like AA where you'll be with many grateful people.

*Don't keep feelings bottled up. Talk with close friends, caring co-workers or loving family members about your feelings.

*Have fun. Don’t take things too seriously. Laugh!

*Don’t use the holidays as an excuse for taking a drink or using another drug. It will only put you in a bad place.

*Exercise. A good workout helps reduce and prevent stress. You'll feel energized.

*An excellent acronym to keep in mind, especially during the holidays, is HALT. Don't allow yourself to become too Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired!

*Say the Serenity Prayer when you feel overwhelmed: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference."

My heart aches for friends who have lost loved ones. I plan on making an extra effort this holiday season to let friends and family know how much I care about them. I am blessed by the roles they play in my life!

Phil, my life partner for 22 years, has been so brave in dealing with his paralysis for almost 10 years. And he's been so brave in living with a weakened left side that resulted from a major stroke seven years ago. Sometimes when I'm eating at a restaurant with Phil, I admire hm for trying to cut a piece of meat, a task that was so simple before the stroke. He demonstrates his courage daily

Phil's 55th birthday a gift in itself

2010-11-21T18:00:00.000-06:00

Phil's 55th birthday is Tuesday. That, in itself, is a gift to Phil and those who love him.

It was almost 10 years ago that Phil nearly lost his life in an automobile accident. He was paralyzed from the waist down, underwent numerous surgeries, endured multiple seizures and suffered a major stroke. He was later diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder that was linked to an incident while he served in the Marines.

Phil has come close to death five times since February 2001. Yet he has beaten the odds and survived. As his life partner of 22 years and as his primary caregiver since the accident, I've seen him struggle with severe depression. Yet I've also witnessed him laughing and expressing joy over seeing friends and family.

Phil and I no longer take anything for granted. If the weather's not perfect, so what? If we're lacking funds for everything we want, so what? If we can't travel as easily as we used to, so what? We're both alive and we both know that there all sorts of people who care about us.

Life isn't a bed of roses. It never has been. We still argue. We still get on each other's nerves. But we still love each other and are grateful that our beloved mutt Boss -- our surrogate son -- has been by our sides through thick and thin.

When Phil turns 55 on Tuesday, both of us will celebrate the gift of life. That is the greatest gift.

Venting at caregivers luncheon

2010-10-28T08:30:00.007-05:00

I was honored to be invited Tuesday to a Community Conversation on caregiving at the Chicago Tribune. Several caregivers like myself and officials with several agencies met with newspaper representatives at a luncheon on the 20th floor of the Tribune Tower.

I greatly appreciated the opportunity to discuss the many physical, emotional and financial challenges Phil and I have faced since he was paralyzed from the waist down on Feb. 21, 2001. I said we've tried so very hard to withstand one hardship after another and that we both feel beaten down when we hear homophobes rail against gays threatening the sanctity of marriage and how gays are a threat to the military.

I told the group that Phil and I have been together more than 22 years, and they laughed when I reported how a newspaper friend once told me, "You two have been together longer than my three marriages combined."

I told the group how angry I am that Don't Ask, Don't Tell has not been repealed. I pointed out that I served with the Army's 1st Infantry Division in Vietnam and that Phil is a Marine vet.

I also told them how grateful we both are for having been treated with dignity and respect at the Froedtert Memorial Lutheran Hospital and the Milwaukee VA Medical Center's Spinal Cord Injury Unit. There were representatives of gay organizations at the Trib meeting who shared horror stories of significant others who were denied access to see dying partners.

I try very hard to be a calm, caring professional at work and a calm, caring life partner at home. There are times, however, when the smallest irritant can drive me up the wall. I am making an extra effort to find some balance in my life. Today, I'm taking some quiet time at a local coffee shop to do some social networking with friends and family who have provided us with much love and support.

I thank Tribune reporter Lisa Black, who profiled us about two years ago, for inviting me to the luncheon. The Trib regularly holds a Community Conversation to get ideas on issues to cover. I especially appreciated the opportunity to vent to people who understand what it's like to be a caregiver.

Maya Hennessey, an official with the National Family Caregivers Association, told me Wednesday, "Your comments to the group yesterday were wonderful." Hope Barrett, a director with the Center on Halsted program for gay seniors in Chicago, wrote me today, "I admire your courage to speak up about the challenges of caregiving. I hope you continue to channel your anger, frustration and joys into avenues that will sustain you." Maya and Hope's remarks mean a lot to me. I thank them.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell letter

2010-10-01T08:56:00.005-05:00

The Kenosha News today published my Voice of the People letter.

GOP missed the boat
not repealing old law

Shame on the Senate Republicans for blocking efforts to repeal Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell! I served with the Army’s 1st Infantry Division in Vietnam. Phil Anderson, my life partner of 22 years, was in the Marines.

I’m irate because gays have died in service to their country. I suppose some of the not-so-esteemed GOP senators might tolerate gays serving openly if they served in gays-only units. That wouldn’t be unlike black servicemen who were in blacks-only units in World War II. It seems that the GOP has become “The Party of No Tolerance.” I hope their lack of tolerance wouldn’t extend to denying burial to deceased gay vets in military cemeteries.

Phil, who became a paraplegic in an auto accident and has since suffered a stroke, is grateful he isn’t treated like a second-class citizen when receiving care at the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee. I appreciate the support I’ve received from the VA’s spinal cord injury unit staff.

While Phil and I are dealing with physical, emotional and financial challenges, the Republicans continue to rant about the country not being ready for gays serving openly in the armed forces. Twenty years from now, some of those GOP senators may look back with shame and ask themselves, “What was I thinking?”

When I went through treatment for alcoholism in 1981, the psychiatrist who knew I was gay told me of the ignorance I’d encounter. He said, “There are a lot of ignorant boobs out there. Don’t let them get you down.” Twenty-nine sober years later, I’m still fighting ignorance. This time the ignorance is being displayed by intolerant GOP senators who are drunk with power.

Bill Hetland
Kenosha

Random thoughts & other stuff

2010-09-23T08:53:00.003-05:00

Shame on the Republicans for blocking efforts to repeal Don't Ask, Don't Tell! I enlisted in the Army and Phil the Marines to serve our country. Of course, we had the good taste not to be openly gay. When I went through treatment for my alcoholism in 1981, the psychiatrist who knew I was gay told me of the ignorance I'd encounter. He said, "There are a lot of ignorant boobs out there. Don't let them get you down." Twenty-nine years later, I'm still fighting ignorance.

There's always some consolation in knowing that Phil and I aren't alone in dealing with health challenges. A dear friend since 1976 called last night. His longtime life partner, who has early stage Alzheimer's, is dealing with blood clots that have resulted in a swollen right leg. We did a good job of cheering each other up! That's what friends are for!

Just looking at Boss the Wonder Dog makes me smile. Phil and I view him as a great therapist, and he doesn't seem to mind the bull we send his way. This quote by Roger Caras so fits Boss: "Dogs have given us their absolute all. We are the center of their universe. We are the focus of their love and faith and trust. They serve us in return for scraps. It is without a doubt the best deal man has ever made."

A pressing concern that a group like the Tea Party might address is why Dairy Queen still doesn't have a queen to promote it's corporate image. I've long suggested that a smiling cow with a tiara and sash would be perfect. Certainly much better than that evil plastic-faced Burger King that scares children and the elderly!

Stephen King, one of my favorite writers, has a wicked sense of humor: "Some people say that I must be a terrible person, but it’s not true. I have the heart of a young boy in a jar on my desk."

22 years of love, togetherness

2010-09-21T08:27:00.003-05:00

Phil and I observed our 22nd anniversary Friday. We've had wonderful times together and have managed to overcome just about every challenge under the sun.

I'm so very proud of Phil for the strength he has shown since his paralysis in February 2001 and his subsequent stroke. We are grateful to friends and family for their support, especially during the most trying times. We are blessed to have had our beloved mutt Boss as part of our little family for more than 10 years.

Our love and commitment to each other began with a ceremony September 17, 1988, in our Wausau home. With the divorce rate in America above 50 percent, we think our 22 years as a couple is quite an achievement.

Like any other couple we squabble on occasion. But when one of us is down in the dumps, the other manages to lift the other's spirits up. We celebrate our love and the people who care about us.

Dealing with despair in recovery

2010-08-28T19:17:00.000-05:00

While I've felt overwhelmed and close to despair over the past several weeks, I maintain hope that better days await both me and my paralyzed life partner Phil. I do have two good reasons to celebrate in September. It's National Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Month -- and I've been sober for more than 29 years. The month also marks the 22 years that Phil and I have been in a committed relationship -- it began Sept. 17, 1988, when we lived in Wausau.

We have dealt with virtually every worst-case scenario since Phil was paralyzed in a Feb. 19, 2001 auto accident. He's had a major stroke, numerous seizures and several other near-death experiences. We've also survived bankruptcy and came close to losing our home. Several weeks ago my nearly perfect driving record ended when I was responsible for an accident that could have killed the young pick-up truck driver whose vehicle rolled over after it struck mine. Miraculously, we both survived without major injuries. But I was emotionally drained for weeks.

Had it not been for my sobriety, I'm quite certain I would not have been able to help Phil deal with his many, many health challenges. My involvement in support groups like AA and my 20 years of work for a substance abuse prevention and treatment agency have played a significant role in my being alive.

With so many straight marriages ending in divorce, I am so very proud that Phil and I have remained a couple for better or for worse for 22 years. We did not "choose" to be gay. We did choose to continue to love each other when other couples could not.

I'll continue to fight the occasional clouds of despair that float over me. I'll also continue to celebrate important events, two of which occur in September.

On the road in the 'Cherry-ot'

2010-07-29T08:22:00.001-05:00

While the recent accident that destroyed my car and the pick-up truck that hit me was devastating and humbling, I'm still most grateful that there were no serious injuries. The young driver of the truck that flipped over could have been killed had he not been wearing a seat belt.

It was a challenge for me to function well emotionally for two to three weeks after the accident. I had always prided myself on being a good driver. In fact, the only moving violation I had received in my many years of driving was for going 42 in a 35 mph zone on South Biron Drive in Wisconsin Rapids way back in March 1968. I've had to relinquish my self-appointed title as "the only good driver in Kenosha County, Wisconsin, and Lake County, Illinois."

The accident has made me realize how important it is to focus on driving defensively. Although Phil and I have dealt with so very many challenges since his paralysis and subsequent stroke, I can't let those and other distractions deter me from living in the now -- especially while driving.

Some friends really came through for us in a big-time way after our 1996 Saturn met its death. Donations from longtime buddies Walt Kozlowski, Bill Christofferson and Sylvia Lang -- coupled with funds I withdrew from my retirement account -- enabled me to buy a loaded 1994 Lincoln Continental Executive Series model that's in excellent condition. One of the features that appeals to Phil is having an electronically-adjustable passenger seat that provides him with a comfortable ride.

I was fortunate to find the website of a dealership that had been opened for only two weeks in Saukville, about 65 miles north of our Kenosha home. Big Bass Motorworks is owned by Brian Chilson, a young vet of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. He believes that every person should be treated as if they're buying a new Cadillac. Phil and I were impressed with Brian and his stepmom, Jan, who works in the office. Boss took a special liking to Jan, who "babysat" him while we test drove the big solid Lincoln.

I told Brian I wanted the car and to hold it until I could get a ride to pick it up. The next Saturday Bill Christofferson drove from his home in Milwaukee to Kenosha and drove me to Saukville. Sure, it's an older car. But it handles well and provides a sense of security while Phil's in the car with me.

Belvidere native Tony Walker came up with a good nickname for the burgundy/red/cherry Continental. He suggested the "Cherry-ot," which shares the driveway with our 1984 Chevy 30 wheelchair conversion van, the "Great White Beast." I've joked that if the two vehicles could have kids, they'd probably have a pink Ford Fusion.

Phil, Boss and I have had some fun outings in the "Cherry-ot." We want to keep them that way!

Sadness gives way to thankfulness

2010-06-28T18:32:00.001-05:00

This morning was truly scary. Driving the 1996 Saturn to the Kenosha YMCA, I turned in front of a pick-up truck. The truck hit the car and flipped over. Miraculously, the young driver got out right away with little injury. My car is gone and I have a few minor cuts, a big bump on my left knee and I'm pretty sore. But I'm OK otherwise and so grateful I didn't have any serious injuries. Phil and I are both thankful that Boss, who was riding in the back seat, wasn't hurt at all.

It's the first accident that was my fault in my many years of driving. I was preoccupied with some of the issues we're dealing with and just wasn't being careful as I made a left turn a few blocks from the Y. The end result could have been horrific had I not been wearing my seat belt and the airbags hadn't deployed. I'm still amazed that the truck driver didn't have massive injuries.

Phil was shook up when I got home a little after 6 because I was shook up. A sense of overwhelming sadness gripped me for much of the day. But that sadness gave way to thankfulness as I received email notes, phone calls and many Facebook friends concerned about me, Phil and Boss. We are blessed to have so many people who care about us.

I also learned that I need to slow down, to not let my frustrations result in any more accidents. I want to be around for Phil and Boss.

Taking care of the caregiver

2010-06-13T08:43:00.000-05:00

After more than nine years as primary caregiver for my paralyzed life partner, Phil, I realize now more than ever the need to take care of myself. A few weeks ago as I was helping Phil into the bathroom for his every-other-day shower and bowel routine, he could sense that I was anxious because I didn't want to be late for work. He shouted: "I know! I know! You have to go to work! Go! Go!"

I arrived at work about 35 minutes later and got upset over something fairly inane. It grated on me for days. Phil has told me, "No one really understands what I'm going through." Actually, other paraplegics do. And I'm thinking, "No one really understands what I'm going through." Actually, other caregivers do. So, both Phil and I need to communicate more frequently with those who do understand what we're going through.

I've been to a few caregivers support meetings and I've found some good websites that provide excellent resources. I know that we need to have quiet time, more sleep, stress relief, regular excercise and decent eating habits. I'm doing well in some areas and not so well in others.

Taking breaks at coffee shops after work and interacting with old and new friends on social networking sites like Facebook and Twitter have been a big help. Phil and I both truly enjoy interacting with our mutt Boss, who's always a good source for laughs. He's also a great listener.

We're also thankful for the health aide that sees him Monday through Friday mornings and for the assistance of the Spinal Cord Injury Unit staff at the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee. While I care deeply for Phil, I also need to care for myself.

Cool hair? Other observations

2010-05-27T19:16:00.001-05:00

* Regardless of your generation, look back at your high school yearbook photos 10 years after you graduate and you'll likely think your hairstyle was odd. The 2010 grads in 2020 will likely be amazed that they dyed their locks neon green or blue. But it's cool now, isn't it?"

* Don't be too upset if these profiles don't seem fair: Subaru drivers drink at upscale coffee houses while using wi-fi, Hummer guys feel sexually inadequate navigating the rough terrains of the suburbs, men and women out and about in beige 2000 Buick Regals have gray or blue hair, Cadillac owners are classy, Accord and Toyota drivers don't like U.S. cars and owners of old Saturns like me are boxy and dependable.

* Most of us can relate to this. I once heard a guy who I thought was talking to himself at a urinal in the courthouse restroom. Turns out he was using a hands-free cellphone while relieving himself.

* Talking with Liz, a favorite coffee barista, the other day about chocolate-covered bacon, called Pig Lickers at Minnesota State Fair. Certainly not a heart-healthy food but it's probably quite tasty. It'd make a nice side dish to deep-fried cheese curds, a Wisconsin treat.

Getting my kicks on Route 66!

2010-05-15T11:15:00.000-05:00

I'm 66 today. Reminds me of a favorite song about a favorite road. At least for this year I'll be getting my kicks on Route 66. I'd like to think that those of us who are 66 aren't history. Historical, yes, but not history!

It's been fun reading birthday greetings from my Facebook friends. I've also received some fun cards via email and regular mail. Especially touching was this sweet note Phil, my life partner, wrote in the card he gave me along with a bottle of Gucci cologne: "You mean everything to me. You are my world and I am so honored to be with you. I love you."

We've been through so much since his horrific accident on Feb. 19, 2001. But we've survived. Phil and I hope to celebrate many more birthdays together.

Matt deserves to enjoy the sunshine

2010-04-29T08:14:00.000-05:00

Matt Fisk, a good friend from my days on Minnesota's Iron Range, came to our house two years ago with his friend Bryan and ended up spending three weeks making major repairs that would have cost us a whole bunch of money. Phil and I provided the supplies while Matt and Bryan charged us little for their work.

A longtime Duluth resident, Matt's facing major problems from diabetes and is scheduled for a procedure in a Minneapolis hospital today. I'm hoping he'll recover to enjoy the sunshine -- and the support of his many friends. I know his dog North misses him, too, and wants to play with Matt under the warming rays of the sun.

Matt, my favorite bartender from my drinking days, was one of the people who encouraged me to get help for my alcoholism. You know you have a problem when your favorite bartender tells you to go into treatment. Twenty-nine sober years later, I want to join Matt's many friends in praying for his recovery and return home.

Minnesota paper features my efforts

2010-04-18T08:16:00.002-05:00

Bill Hetland returns for YMCA fundraiser

29 years of one day at a time

2010-03-31T11:35:00.000-05:00

My 29th AA birthday falls on Thursday, April Fools' Day. When I was in treatment at Hazelden way back in 1981, a senior counselor and lecturer had been sober 26 years. At that time I couldn't imagine being sober one year, let alone 26. But the miracle of recovery continues for me after 29 years of one day at a time.

I'm convinced that I would not be alive to help my paralyzed life partner Phil had I continued to drink. When Phil nearly died and was paralyzed from the waist down in February 2001, I had no idea that was just the beginning of nine years of physical, emotional and financial challenges for both of us. Phil would have a stroke, numerous seizures, severe urinary tract infections and be diagnosed with PTSD. On Jan. 17 of this year, he had to be taken by ambulance to the Kenosha Hospital because I found him soaked in sweat, with tremors and a severe headache. An ER nurse told me his temperature was 105 and that he was minutes away from not making it.

As is the case with many primary caregivers, I've frequently felt inadequate at home and at work. Yet I've tried to remain in a whine-free zone and maintain a "Mr. Sunshine" attitude as much as possible. As a part-time, semi-retired employee representing a substance abuse prevention and treatment agency in DUI Court, I've enjoyed interacting with the judges, attorneys, defendants and others associated with the court process. Being in a work environment has helped me focus on something other than the challenges at home.

I'm so thankful for the fellowship of AA and other recovery groups and for the family, friends and people I've never met for helping me stay sober. The miracle of recovery continues 29 years later.

Love the social networking!

2010-03-27T19:18:00.000-05:00

I've enjoyed connecting with old friends and making new friends over the past few months on the Twitter and Facebook social networking sites. Most of the new friends come from Twitter where I've met people from all over the world. If I need to provide more than the short bursts of information that Twitter allows, I can send longer email messages.

While I'm made some new friends on Facebook, it's been a special thrill to find old friends that I'd lost track of. Sharing photos and taking the quizzes -- yes, some of them are inane -- have been quite fun. A quiz I took today asked, "What is your purpose in life?" And the result was, "You are an angel in human form." Many of my friends and family -- including Phil and Boss -- would tell you I can be less than angellic.

I still love receiving letters and cards with personal notes via "snail mail." But it's hard to beat Twitter and Facebook for some (almost) instant gratification.

It only hurts for a little while?

2010-03-14T20:40:00.000-05:00

There's seldom any letup from dealing with challenges. God knows, Phil and I have dealt with some mighty big ones since his horrific accident on February 19, 2001. Yet it's the little hurts that seem to be bothering me the most. I find it difficult to deal with crowds -- in grocery stores, in theaters, on the road.

I couldn't get the trunk on the car closed after several tries early this afternoon -- and I was so angry. There was some relief when playing with the key in the lock resulted in the trunk lid closing. I get a scrape on the arm that certainly isn't going to kill me -- and I get bent out of shape.

I read about Wall Street types "earning" huge, huge bonuses while so many of us "commoners" are barely hanging on -- and I fume. I see motorists in front of me tossing litter from their vehicles as if they're certain someone will pick up their garbage -- and it frustrates me.

I go online to make our monthly mortgage payment and find that it's increased by $178. No one was available at the megabank to take my calls this weekend -- and that makes me fume. I'll try to get some answers this week.

I won't even begin to start venting on how insane I feel when I read another news story about gays having a negative impact on society -- and yet the bigots continue to foam on.

I'll try to put on a happy face once again, try to associate with the good people and try to imagine a time when the little hurts won't bother me so much. Phil has to live with physical paralysis. I certainly don't want either of us to be emotionally paralyzed.

Nine years of survival!

2010-02-18T17:21:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow marks nine years since Phil nearly died and was paralyzed from the waist down in an automobile accident. We -- especially Phil -- have been tested more than we ever could have imagined. He had a major stroke, numerous seizures and trips by ambulance to area hospitals for severe infections.

We also survived bankruptcy, refinanced the home and dealt with additional physical, emotional and financial trauma. But we have been blessed by the support of family, friends, our beloved dog Boss and even strangers. There have been days when Phil and I wondered if we could tolerate any additional burdens. Somehow, we have. We are proud to have been together "for better or for worse" for more than 21 years. There are many straight couples who can't make that claim.

We aren't celebrating the tragic accident of February 19, 2001. But we are celebrating our survival. God's blessings to us and to the many people who have demonstrated their compassion and concern.

A wild week in hospital-land

2010-01-24T08:07:00.001-06:00

Last week was a scary one. It started about 7:45 p.m. Sunday when Phil yelled for help from his hospital bed in our sunroom. He had tremors, a severe headache and was soaked in sweat. After calling a triage nurse at the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee to tell her what was happening to Phil, she said he needed to be seen immediately at a hospital. I called 911 and an ambulance came to transport him to the Kenosha Hospital where he was diagnosed with a severe urinary tract infection. His temperature was almost 105 degrees and he could have died had he not received immediate care.

Phil was so out of it that he didn't know where he was when he woke in the hospital. After two days there he was discharged Wednesday. I took him in our 1984 Chevy wheelchair conversion van to the VA Medical Center where he was scheduled to spend Tuesday through Friday for his annual exam. I helped him get set up in his room and drove home where I spent most of the afternoon and much of Thursday afternoon napping. I was wiped out.

Boss rode with me to pick Phil up Friday. I got there as Phil was beginning to eat lunch. A nurse gave me a meal that was quite tasty. Really! Phil is happy to be home. And Boss and I are happy as well.

Let the sun shine on 2010!

2010-01-02T16:21:00.000-06:00

There were too many times in 2009 when I felt numb from having to face another challenge. I've tried so very hard to help Phil, who has survived numerous health crises since his paralysis from a February 2001 auto accident. We'd get a problem like a malfunctioning catheter to work only to find that our water heater had broken down on a holiday weekend.

I'd rush him to the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee because he woke with a high fever and soaked in sweat. Some new medications would be prescribed, I'd drive him home and help him to his hospital bed in our sunroom. He'd be drained and so would I.

The phone calls, letters, email notes and visits from family and friends would provide some rays of sunshine that would help us deal with the clouds that seemed to hang over us. Our dog Boss has helped brighten our days when we were mad at each other and mad at the world.

There were some good moments and good days in 2009. But we're glad that 2010 has finally arrived. We do know that the sun will eventually find its way through those clouds.

Looking at the water glass

2009-12-15T08:20:00.000-06:00

Before Phil's near-fatal and paralyzing accident almost nine years ago, he and I viewed the water glass differently. I viewed -- and still do -- the above glass as being half full. Phil, however, viewed it -- and still does -- as half empty.

Several weeks ago while watching Jeopardy, one of the video clues showed a woman holding a water glass that was half -- "empty!" was Phil's immediate response. I smiled because that's the way he sees the world around him. Considering all that he's been through since February 19, 2001, I can understand his vision.

I, on the other hand, have been the ultimate don't-rock-the-boat kind of guy since my time began. I've found that the water level halfway up the glass means that the glass is more full than it is empty. I must admit though that there are times when the world seems to be crashing down around us and I'm thinking, "Boy, today I'm hoping that the water glass makes it to three-eighths full."

At least Phil and I aren't to the point where we see the water glass as cracked and leaking all over the place.

Friends for more than 40 years

2009-12-08T08:25:00.002-06:00

In the almost nine years since Phil's near-fatal and paralyzing auto accident, I've been blessed to have the support of two friends who I first came to know in my hometown of Belvidere, Illinois. I've cherished having Bill Christofferson and Walt Kozlowski as friends for more than 40 years.

Bill was editor of the Belvidere Daily Republican as I was about to join the Army and eventually serve with the First Infantry Division in Vietnam. I would become editor of the BDR after my two years in the Army. Although Bill and I were editors of a very Republican newspaper, we had become flaming Democrats. I, in fact, voted for George McGovern while at the helm of the BDR's newsroom.

Bill, who had a great newspaper career, would go on to become a political consultant extraordinaire. He engineered the election of U.S. Senator Herb Kohl, D-Wisconsin, and later the election of Wisconsin Governor Jim Doyle. Bill also served as chief of staff of former Milwaukee Mayor John Norquist and wrote a critically-acclaimed biography of former U.S. Senator Gaylord Nelson. Although Bill comes across as a low-key guy, he's the ultimate organizer and go-to man for ideas.

Walt is a retired and beloved English teacher at Belvidere High School. I've met many of his former students who regard Walt as their favorite teacher. He's also well known for his many, many summers as a quality house painter. I came to know Walt especially well while covering the Belvidere Education Association for the Daily Republican.

Bill, Walt and yours truly were party-hearty boys when we first met. Our recent reunions have included sharing memories of those crazy days of our youth and our amazement that we've all been off the sauce for many years. Now we're yucking it up over coffee.

Phil has also come to value Bill and Walt as friends. Like me and our dog Boss, he looks forward to their visits. We will always be grateful to them for their wit, warmth and compassion. They've helped keep us going when we didn't think we could deal with another challenge. We're truly blessed to have them in our corner.

Thankful for Phil's birthday

2009-11-22T15:32:00.000-06:00

Phil's 54th birthday is tomorrow. We're so thankful that he's in relatively good health considering all the challenges he's faced since he nearly died and was paralyzed from the waist down in a February 19, 2001 auto accident. Rather than dwell on all that he -- and we -- have been through since then, we're focusing on how thankful we are for the friends, family members and strangers who have reached out to help us.

Yesterday was a marvelous day. Phil, Boss and I journeyed 125 miles north to his sister Norma's home in the Manitowoc area for an early Thanksgiving meal. Phil's brother-in-law Steve has a birthday on Thanksgiving. Norma made a cake for the birthday boys and Phil's two-year-old great-niece Brooklyn -- a real charmer -- sang Happy Birthday. Brooklyn's mom, Jessie, drove from Stevens Point, and Phil's niece, Michelle, joined us from Wausau.

The weather was great for our trip. We also had great food, great conversation and great laughter. It was a wonderful way for Phil to observe his birthday.

On the go on the Great White Beast

2009-10-28T17:09:00.001-05:00

Phil Anderson, my paralyzed life partner, is using the wheelchair lift to get in our 1984 Chevy 30 conversion van, affectionately known as The Great White Beast. Phil, our dog Boss and I enjoy taking excursions in the van, which has only 22,100 miles on odometer.

Voices from past brighten a day

2009-10-28T13:43:00.000-05:00

It's amazing how a note, letter or phone call from an old friend can brighten a day. A couple Saturdays ago I heard from a fellow I hadn't talked with since I'd left Minnesota's Iron Range about 25 years ago. In a touching message to me, he recalled how I had taken him to his first AA meeting in 1981 as well as to a Christmas party where everyone was sober -- and having a good time. After becoming sober he entered the seminary and is now a Lutheran pastor. God does work in wonderful ways.

A few days letter a friend I used to play basketball with at Olcott Park in Virginia, Minnesota, contacted me via Facebook. He, his wife and children are living in South Dakota. I told him that a commonality of all my male friends -- straight or gay -- is that they are all decent, kind people. I told him that I hold him in high regard. It was so good to hear from him.

Sometimes when Phil and I feel that the burdens of dealing with his paralysis and other health concerns are overwhelming, our spirits will be lifted when we hear from some of those individuals who make up our wide circle of friends.

Blessed to have Bob, Debi as friends

2009-10-04T06:44:00.000-05:00

Phil and I have been blessed to have the longtime friendship of Bob and Debi Pyszka. I've known Bob since our childhood in Belvidere, Illinois, and Debi since they fell in love way back when in Missouri. They lived near Debi's roots in suburban Kansas City for many years and moved to Bob's home area in northern Illinois for several years. Bob and Debi raised two outstanding sons, Patrick and Michael.

The Pyszkas mean so much to us because they were the first friends to visit Phil after his near-fatal and paralyzing auto accident in 2001 and, later, after his major stroke. Their visits played an important role in Phil's healing process.

Phil, who isn't a very demonstrative guy, told me this past week, "I love the Pyszkas." Bob and Debi are returning to Missouri in Lee's Summit on Thursday. We plan to visit this wonderful couple in the "Show Me" state. They've certainly showed us what great friends are all about.

Living outside the box

2009-09-22T18:19:00.001-05:00

"Think outside the box" is an almost overused expression for finding creative ways to deal with obstacles. Phil, my paralyzed life partner, and I have had to "live outside the box" in our attempts to deal with the many, many challenges we face daily.

At times it's almost mind-blowing what Phil has to deal with every 24 hours since his February 2001 auto accident. He takes a mountain of medications at 6 a.m., 10 a.m., 2 p.m. and 10 p.m. The meds are for pain, bladder control, seizures, depression . . . and the list goes on and on and on. The stroke he had a few years after his accident made his left side weak, particularly his arm. At times he gets mad because it's sometimes difficult to cut a tough food item on his plate.

We're grateful for the health aides he has each morning during the week. They help him get cleaned up, dressed and in his power wheelchair. I handle those duties over the weekend. While we get cranky with each other, we also try to use humor to deflect the frustrations.

In his pre-accident days, Phil was always a man on the run. He'd hop out of bed, take a quick shower, jump in his truck and zip off to work. Travel is vastly different now. If we're leaving on a long trip in the car, I help Phil transfer on a board from his wheelchair to the front seat of the Saturn. I then break down the chair -- including two, 50-pound batteries -- and store it in the trunk. For short trips, we use our 1984 Chevy 30 wheelchair conversion van. That's much easier on both of us. Phil navigates his chair to the lifting device on the van and I use a control box to get him inside.

Friends, family and even strangers have helped us to keep from feeling like shut-ins. Visits, letters and email notes brighten our days. The Spinal Cord Injury Unit staff at the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee helps both of us deal with health and emotional concerns.

Our dog, Boss, an 11-year-old mutt, is a godsend. He's certainly no trained therapy dog but his love for both of us is something we'll always cherish. Boss has been an absolute joy.

Phil and I observed our 21st anniversary together last Thursday, an accomplishment many straight couples will never reach. So, we continue to press forward with no "gay agenda" on our plates. We're too busy trying to live outside the box.

Outing in the Great White Beast

2009-09-13T17:34:00.000-05:00

Phil, Boss and I took to the road in our 1984 Chevy 30 wheelchair van, lovingly called the Great White Beast, to Kenosha's Harbor Park. Phil was in his large powerchair while I walked beside with Boss to a pier overlooking Lake Michigan. It was fun watching boats like the Nordic Tug pass by. People of all ages and ethnicities and dogs of all sizes and breeds were out enjoying the beautiful summer day. We saw skateboarders, bicyclists, moms and dads pushing babies in strollers and joggers on the well-maintained paths.

Boss loves going for rides. When we're in the 1996 Saturn (aka the Grey Goose), he's sitting in the back seat with his head between us. It's almost as if he's sitting in front. In the Great White Beast, he spreads out on a bench seat and looks out the wide windows. I know he'd love it if we allowed him to drive the van or car -- even Phil's power chair. But first he has to pass his driver's test at the DMV.

Can't we all get along? Probaby not!

2009-09-09T18:48:00.000-05:00

I'm depressed over the mean-spirited nature so many people are caught up in. TV and radio talk show hosts foaming at the mouth. Raging drivers. Warring politicians. Will it ever end? We need more civility, less screaming, less shouting. Peace! And may God have mercy on our souls!

The horror! The horror! Not too bad

2009-09-08T19:12:00.001-05:00

I've never had a lovely visit to the dentist's office. In fact, a dentist in Wausau once told me I was about the most nervous patient he'd dealt with. And he told me that while I was there for a simple and painless cleaning.

So imagine how high my anxiety level was this morning when I headed off to my dentist in Kenosha knowing that I was going to have a tooth extracted. I envisioned a jackhammer being used to loosen the decayed tooth before it was ripped from my mouth. Fortunately -- most fortunately -- such was not the case.

Both the dentist and his assistant went out of their way to make me feel comfortable. The novocaine also helped. Why, the dentist was so efficient that he had enough time to do a core buildup on another tooth. Sometime in October I'll have a return engagement for a root canal. Ecstasy awaits me!

Why me? Why not me?

2009-09-07T14:03:00.000-05:00

I've been so numb over the scores of challenges we've dealt with since Phil's paralyzing accident that I've asked what a lot of people in similar situations have asked themselves, "Why me?" Certainly, there are others who are far worse off. So I guess I should really ask, "Why not me?" What gives me the nerve to expect that everything in life is going to be all sweetness and light? I know there are others worse off -- we've seen quadriplegics at the VA hospital in Milwaukee. I know that others don't get the expensive medical equipment that Phil has received to keep him at least somewhat mobile. I know that we have family and friends to help us when we need it.

At 65, I'm at an age where I question what I've accomplished in life. As hard as I try, I'm finding that my negative impressions are outweighing the positive ones. I had decided this morning that I wouldn't let my depression stop us from having fun on Labor Day. So I started our wheelchair conversion van and the engine sounded great. But I couldn't get the van in reverse. No transmission fluid leaks. No grinding noises. Just no reverse. Phil's brother James, a mechanical whiz, said he'd drive down from Grafton this weekend to see if just a simple fix is needed. Sure hope so. We've put a lot of money into making the Great White Beast roadworthy.

Bummed as I was, I managed to get Phil and Boss in the car and drive to Lake Michigan for a stunningly beautiful view from the large concrete pier in Kenosha's Kemper Park. We sat on the pier for an hour and enjoyed watching the sail boats and motor boats pass by. We had a good time. Why us? Why not us?

So many ways to keep in touch

2009-09-06T19:14:00.001-05:00

Good God, there are so many ways to keep in touch with family, friends and others who live in my world: regular mail, email, Blogger, Facebook, Twitter, landline phone, cell phone . . . and the list goes on and on.

I've especially enjoyed making new friends from around the world and re-establishing contact with people I haven't heard from in decades. But there are days when I'm so concerned with Phil's health issues that it's difficult for me to communicate with anyone. I keep a stack of mail on the table by my favorite chair that I sometimes ignore for a few days.

The only regular mail I'll open right away is an envelope that bears the return address of someone I really care about. It really is quite thrilling to actually hear from someone who took the time to write something on a card or piece of paper, put it in an envelop, affix a stamp and place it in the mail box. I keep those favorite notes in a little box under the table by my favorite chair.

So, if there are days or weeks you don't hear from me, it's not because I don't care about you. I'm just trying to develop enough emotional strength to wade through that pile of mail before it disintegrates.

Memories of pigging out

2009-08-23T21:18:00.001-05:00

Boss the Wonder Dog rode with me this afternoon to buy some groceries at the Piggly Wiggly near our home in Kenosha. I get a kick out of the chain's slogan, "Shop the Pig." After shopping the Pig, I got to thinking about one of the favorite restaurants of my childhood in my hometown of Belvidere, Illinois, because of its ties to pigs.

The Beacon Restaurant, a favorite place to stop after high school football and basketball games, served great burgers and fries, along with malts and sundaes. But what made the good old Beacon especially memorable was the huge banana split that was served in a little trough. Friends who managed to woof down the huge treat were awarded "I Was a Pig at the Beacon" button. As piggy as I've been over the years, I never managed to pig out on one of those monsters.

Now that I'm an overweight grumpy old man, I'm trying to look and feel like a thin young man by keeping away from the troughs. May the Pork be with you -- not me!

Things to go bonkers over . . .

2009-08-09T18:27:00.000-05:00

At age 65 I think I'm a fairly energetic and open-minded soul who likes to take on new challenges, thus distancing myself from the "grumpy old man" image. But -- and that's a big BUT -- there are some things that come close to driving me bonkers:

* The insanely fast-paced "going nowhere but getting there fast" of motorists at any time of day. Even when I'm driving to the Kenosha YMCA at 4:35 in the morning there's almost always someone on my tail. I frequently pull over to the shoulder of the rode to let them soar by.

* The "Taliban Christians" who profess love of God and country but go out of their way to condemn gays as being abnormal and immoral. Those Talibanners are evil.

* The challenges of trying to balance work and life issues. I know the entire "Care for the Caretaker" mantra. Yet I find myself feeling inadequate about being the good caretaker for Phil and the industrious, productive employee.

* The frustration of not being able to communicate frequently with family and friends all across the country. There are days when it's difficult for me to even open mail, much less respond to it. I feel immense guilt at times.

* The insanity of all the challenges Phil and I have faced since his near-fatal and paralyzing February 2001 auto accident. It seems like we've had one hurdle after another to deal with.

But -- and this is also a BIG but -- I try to use humor and a "the glass is half full" attitude to continue pushing on. Maybe I won't go completely bonkers after all.

A wonderful day in Stevens Point

2009-08-09T16:40:00.002-05:00

Phil and I had a wonderful day helping celebrate his great-niece Brooklyn's second birthday in Stevens Point. We made the 190-mile trip to the home of Phil's niece Jesse and her husband Corey Firkus on Saturday morning.

They didn't know we were coming so it was a special treat to see their reaction. I had parked the car around the corner, assembled Phil's power wheelchair and helped him transfer from the car to the chair. Then Phil wheeled up the driveway as if he'd motored all the way from Kenosha by himself. Jesse was thrilled over the surprise from her Uncle Phil.

We sat outside in a gazebo with Phil's sister Norma and other relatives and friends as Brooklyn and other children splashed in the wading pools and played on slides. We had a great summer meal and laughed at the littlest youngsters as they got more of the birthday cake on the outside of their mouths than inside.

Phil and I were tired after the long day. But it definitely was a good kind of tired.

A grudge is a terrible thing to hold

2009-07-27T13:58:00.000-05:00

I've met my share of people over the years who excel at holding a grudge.

I met a man years ago who said he wouldn't buy a Pontiac because his dad got a bad deal on one in the 1950s. Perhaps GM decided to discontinue the Pontiac line because so many motorists were holding a grudge against the Grand Prix, Transam, Bonneville, G6 and Firebird.

I know at least two attorneys in DUI court who hold a grudge against the agency I work for because they feel their clients didn't get fair evaluations by our counselors. It always amazes me when an attorney -- or client -- can't understand why three DUIs will NOT result in a Minimal Risk treatment recommendation.

My late mother and her best friend held some kind of inane grudge against each other for several years. Fortunately, they made up and renewed their friendship.

Since Phil's near-fatal and paralyzing accident in February 2001, most of our family and friends have been very supportive. But we're trying not to hold grudges against those who -- for whatever reasons -- choose not to communicate with us.

I encourage those of you who may be carrying a grudge to attempt to get that ugly beast off your back. Life is too short to live with that burden.

A mowing man makes mower move

2009-07-19T16:28:00.001-05:00

Phil was used to doing all the mechanical/electronic/handyman stuff before his paralyzing accident in February 2001. Fortunately, he's able to talk me through some of the basics when something needs fixing. For about two weeks I couldn't get our reliable stored-under-the-wheelchair-ramp lawnmower working. I was able to cut one path in front of the sunroom windows before the mower belched in defiance and quit on me.

Phil said it sounded like it needed a new spark plug and probably new gas. So I installed a new plug, dumped the old gas and poured in the new fuel last weekend. After several tries I still couldn't get our defiant mower in a good mood. So I put the dirty little mulching beast under the ramp and used the trimmer to get rid of some of the taller, uglier weeds.

Yesterday, by god, I decided I was going to get that mower going. After only two or three pulls on the magic cord, dear old Mr. Mower passed a little gas and let me mow the lawn. I charged across the front and back yards at a record pace for fear that the mower would stop working if I slowed down.

All of you butch mechanics probably think I'm making a big deal out of a small matter. But, damn it, I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and I think my mower likes me. Really likes me.

Birthday, indpendence day for Boss

2009-07-05T07:51:00.002-05:00

Boss the Wonder Dog turned 11 on the Fourth of July. When Phil and I adopted him on Jan. 4, 2000 from the Safe Harbor Humane Society in Kenosha, we were told that Boss was one and one-half. So we decided that July 4 would be a great day to celebrate his birthday since it represented his freedom from a life in the kennel.

While we know Boss appreciates his life with us, he can't comprehend how much he means to me and Phil. He has been a virtual therapy dog to Phil since that paralyzing and near-fatal auto accident on Feb. 19, 2001. He's also been therapeutic to me, especially when I'm down in the dumps.

Boss doesn't know a lot of tricks. But Phil has taught him how to count, sit, stay, roll over. He likes to chase a Frisbee when I throw it. But he won't return it; instead, he just prances around the yard with the disc in his mouth. It's like he's saying to me, "Hey, this is mine, all mine, and you can't have it."

We celebrated Boss' special day by giving him a frosted cookie and a small vanilla cone. He woofed the goodies down, not really knowing the significance of the Fourth of July. Here's to many more Independence Days, Boss.

Sometimes I want to scream

2009-07-04T10:02:00.000-05:00

Phil and I try to put a positive spin on the many, many challenges we've faced since he nearly died and was paralyzed from the waist down in his February 2001 auto accident. Lately, we've had to replace the water heater, Phil was afraid he'd be burned alive in a fire in the sunroom and -- on a much smaller scale -- I couldn't get the lawn mower to start.

I've been told so many times that "God doesn't give you any more than you can handle." Perhaps, but my shoulders are feeling pretty heavy. Sometimes I want to scream. But I know that once I interact with people -- through work, at home, at a meeting, on the phone or Internet -- I begin to feel better. Also, the Serenity Prayer helps.

The past three days I've been trying to declutter the house so it's more like a home. "A house is not a home . . ." goes the great song by Dionne Warwick. We're also going to try to get out of our home more often to see friends and family. Doing that won't make me want to scream so much.

A big fire scare at home

2009-06-14T13:16:00.000-05:00

Boy, did we have a big scare Friday night. Phil, who was in his hospital bed in the sunroom, was hungry for a fish sandwich. So I zipped a few blocks down the street to McDonald's to buy a sandwich. Gone just a few minutes, I returned home to the downstairs filled with smoke and Phil screaming that there was fire at the end of his bed.

I grabbed a towel that was near the bed and quickly snuffed out the fire. The outlet near the end of Phil's bed was fried and soot covered part of the wall. Thank God I was out of the house for just a short time. Phil, who is paralyzed from the waist down, was terrified because he could have suffered severe burns and the damage to the sunroom could have been much greater. I laid next to him in his single bed and reassured him that everything would work out. Even Boss could sense how upset we were, and hopped up with us.

Saturday morning as I was driving to speak to some of our agency's female clients on addiction recovery, I called brother Rich in the Twin Cities on my cell phone and asked him to check in on Phil. I was grateful he did and further gratified when I returned home to see Phil's brother James visiting with him in the sunroom. He'd driven down from Grafton to offer some comfort. I helped Phil get cleaned up and his power chair so he could watch his brother do some major trimming of our large pine tree in the front yard.

We've been so appreciative of family and friends for coming through for us time and time again since Phil's near-fatal accident in February 2001. It makes it much easier for us to deal with those scary moments.

No such thing as 'simple' plumbing problem

2009-05-31T06:52:00.000-05:00

I've been away from the blog for awhile because I've been dealing with some of life's challenges. One that really bugged me took place on Memorial Day weekend after I'd washed a large load of laundry in the basement. When I walked down the steps Saturday morning to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer, I was "greeted" by a large pooling of water on the floor.

At first I thought it was a simple fix -- what plumbing problem is "simple"? -- so I scraped away some crud that blocked the grate over the main drain and mopped the floor with old towels. Then I washed the towels and a new pool "greeted" me.

Then I took a close look at our six-year-old water heater and found a leak. Phil said flushing the heater might solve the problem. So I flushed -- and the problem wasn't solved.

With knowledge that having anything fixed on a holiday weekend would likely cost a bundle but also possessing the knowledge that I didn't want to go two days without hot water, I tracked down a plumber. Andy worked from 5 to 9 p.m. hauling away the not-so-old heater and installing a new one.

Sure, I was pleased as (non-alcoholic) punch to have hot water. But not so pleased to have spent $1,800. "Go with the flow" took on special meaning for me on a frustrating Saturday.

I'm so proud of Phil for his courage

2009-05-20T19:23:00.002-05:00

Phil had a long day in his power wheelchair. Up since about 8:30 a.m. today, he arrived home about 3:30 after his monthly checkup and catheter change at the Milwaukee VA Medical Center's Spinal Cord Injury Unit. While I sometimes feel dragged out from the challenges of balancing work and home issues, I need to remind him that I'm so proud of him for his courage in dealing with his paralysis, stroke and so very many additional health challenges.

I helped him to his hospital bed in the sunroom a few minutes ago. He was so relieved to be out of the chair and on his side in bed. We had watched people with all sorts of problems on "Dr. Phil" and "Oprah" after he got home. A point that came through to us -- loud and clear -- is to "appreciate the now." It was a beautiful, sunny and warm day in southeastern Wisconsin. We agreed it was a day to appreciate -- now!

A slacker and others in DUI Court

2009-05-06T19:55:00.000-05:00

DUI Court, where I work in the morning, can be as intriguing as anything on "reality TV." People who have been arrested for driving under the influence of alcohol or other drugs, come from all walks of life.

* A 30-year-old man asked the DUI Court judge on Monday to appoint a public defender because he couldn't afford to hire a private attorney. "When was the last time you worked?" the judge asked. "About four years ago," the young guy replied. "Have you looked for work?" the judge asked. "Not really," the young guy replied. "How do you survive?" the judge asked. "I live with my mother," the young guy replied. The judge, with obvious disdain for slackers, ordered the healthy-looking 30-year-old man to prove that he applied for 12 jobs during his next court appearance in June.

* A 50-something woman who spoke with an Eastern European accent and near tears today explained to the DUI Court judge she hadn't completed her treatment and paid her fines by a December deadline because she lost her house in foreclosure and is divorcing her husband. The judge asked me to speak with her about the importance of completing treatment. I learned that she only has two hours remaining in a 22-hour moderate risk program. The judge was pleased to learn that she's on track to finish treatment in the very near future.

* A woman by the name of Brandi Alexander has been appearing in DUI Court in recent weeks. Over the past year or so names of defendants have included Johnny Walker, Charles Schwab, Robert E. Lee and Michael Jackson.

'Great White Beast' ready to roll

2009-04-24T19:50:00.000-05:00

I returned from Mobility Works in Waukesha early this morning with the 1984 Chevy 30 wheelchair conversion van we bought recently. Thanks to a grant from the VA, Mobility Works installed new wheelchair tie-down straps as well as a seat belt and shoulder belt that will keep Phil from rockin' and rollin' while we're on the road.

Major work was performed over the past two days that included replacement of the water pump, transmission lines, every kind of belt under the sun, spark plugs, fuel filter and other neat stuff. Within the past month or so we've also purchased a new battery and wiper blades, and had brake work performed. Dustin, a talented young handyman who's done a lot of work around our house, repainted the rear door panel after sanding off some rust over the weekend.

This van may be 25 years old but it's had less than 23,000 miles of road use and the interior is so roomy that we could probably use it as a guest bedroom. I call the van the "Great White Beast." Phil and I plan on using the van mainly for short trips -- shopping, haircuts, church and the like. It's great to have a wheelchair lift that moves Phil and his power chair into the van.

Folks from southeastern Wisconsin and northeastern Illinois can expect to see the "Great White Beast" on the road and in handicap parking spots real soon. We're ready to roll!

A sense of rebirth on Easter 1981

2009-04-12T06:25:00.001-05:00

My favorite Easter was in April 1981 when I was in treatment for my alcoholism at Hazelden in Center City, Minnesota. Everything was coming together, a giant weight had been lifted and I felt reborn. The weather was great -- for Minnesota in April -- and the grass was turning green.

Special visitors during that month of rebirth were Mom and Dad, brother Rich and sister-in-law Bonnie, and good friend Aarne Rairamo and his father. It felt so good to greet them with a new outlook on life. I draw on those fond memories as I celebrate Easter 2009. May Christ's love live within all of us.

Recovery's working! For me! For 28 years!

2009-03-29T16:14:00.002-05:00

This Wednesday is a most special day for me. The letter below that I've sent to my colleagues at Nicasa reflects why it is so important to me.

Dear Nicasa colleagues:
In observance/celebration of my 28th year of recovery from alcoholism, I'm speaking at 6 p.m. Wednesday, April 1, to Bridge House residents.

April Fools Day is a most appropriate anniversary date to me because I did so many foolish things when I was drinking. I still act foolish at times --who doesn't -- but I know that I'm a much more grounded and responsible individual now that I'm not consuming the alcohol that could have killed me. I got on the road to recovery way back in April 1981 at Hazelden in City Center, Minn. I was so impressed with a senior counselor and trainer who had been sober 26 years when I first heard him speak. At that time I couldn't imagine being sober one year, let alone 26. Lo and behold in 2009 I'm hitting the 28-year mark.

For too many years alcoholism had such a stigma that many individuals were ashamed to admit they had to reach out and ask for help. That's changing. For too many years gay alcoholics, in particular, were afraid to admit -- even at straight AA meetings -- that gays suffered from that disease at an alarmingly high rate. That's changing. Thank God. I will always be grateful to a Hazelden intern who could sense my pain and provided me with a sense of hope when she revealed to me that she was gay, that I could survive in the straight world without drinking.

Since February 2001 I've dealt with life issues that would have destroyed me had I been drinking. Although I've felt like an emotional train wreck at times, I've survived by drawing on what I learned at Hazelden, at AA and through my work at Nicasa. When I turn 65 on May 15 my birthday wish will be to make an extra effort to spread the message that recovery works. My best wishes and sincere thanks to so very many people who have helped me maintain my sobriety over the past 28 years. -- Bill

Boss a big help during down days

2009-03-22T18:29:00.004-05:00

Our mutt Boss, who turns 11 on the Fourth of July, really helps boost our spirits when we have those "down-in-the-dumps" days. Phil spends much of the day in his hospital bed in our sunroom and takes a mountain of medications. We have two power wheelchairs in the dining room and a Hoyer lift stored in the kitchen that helps his health aide transfer him from the bed to his wheelchair. And we have all sorts of medical supplies scattered throughout the house. In spite of the many challenges Phil faces daily, he tries to maintain a positive outlook. So do I. But there are times when I look at him napping and feel so sad over what we've had to deal with since he was paralyzed and nearly died in February 2001.

But along comes Boss to lift our spirits. He'll hop up on Phil's bed and snuggle with him. Then Phil will tease Boss by offering him a piece of "people food" if he'll say thank you. Boss will respond with a muffled bark. I'll get Phil laughing by asking Boss -- our "disco doggy" -- to dance with me (we're the couple in the photo - you can click to enlarge). He was never trained to be a therapy dog. But he certainly is therapeutic.

Random news and thoughts from Bump

2009-03-13T17:51:00.003-05:00

The past few weeks have been insanely busy, yet I've managed to maintain some sanity. Here are a few random news items and thoughts:

* I took Phil and our dog Boss for the first outing in the 1984 wheelchair-accessible Chevy Van we recently acquired. The dog was nervous and Phil was a little queasy because I had problems figuring out the tie-down straps for his wheelchair. We managed to make it to the new Target where Phil and I shopped together for the first time in months. This Monday we're having the van examined at the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee to see if we can get the newer and easier-to-use tie-down straps installed. It's actually been fun tinkering with the van. It is a large beast with lots of interior room. Perhaps we'll have an "open house" once most of the work is completed.

* There are some funny moments in DUI Court where I work during the week. An attorney appeared before the judge Wednesday to make a request on behalf of his client, who's in the jail's work release program. A court reporter was called because the case is classified as a felony. What the attorney requested was that the judge sign an order allowing his client to bring his own pillow and blanket to his cell at night. Many in the courtroom, including the reporter, smiled as the judge signed the order. Another attorney was surprised that a teddy bear wasn't requested.

* When I joked with one of my doctors at the Union Grove VA Outpatient Clinic about concerns over turning 65 in May, she suggested that I consume more blueberries (fresh or frozen) because they're good for memory and all kinds of other stuff. Blueberry Pop Tarts don't count.

* Because I'm on the way to becoming an official Golden-Ager (and a somewhat Grumpy Old Man), I've found I'm wanting to reconnect with friends and family I've lost track of. Connections are important regardless of our age. I so value the people who have played important roles in my life. I want them to know how much they mean to me.

Maintaining a 'fleet' of cars

2009-02-22T09:26:00.002-06:00

Over the past month Phil and I have been looking for a vehicle or vehicles to replace my Taurus -- aka "The Brown Bomber" or "The Chestnut Chariot" -- that was declared a total loss in an accident last month. We journeyed 160 miles west to Dodgeville on a recent Saturday to look at two older wheelchair-accessible vans and studied a variety of offerings on the Internet.

Ever since Phil's paralyzing accident in February 2001 we've longed for a van that he could just wheel into instead of me having to break down his wheelchair and put it in the trunk before we hit the road. Low and behold, a very nice 88-year-old Kenosha man whose late wife used such a van let me know he wanted to sell it. It's a big 1984 Chevy 30 van with only 21,000 miles. Phil got into the van easily during a test drive and we've spent about $700 to get it roadworthy. I also bought a 1996 Saturn -- aka "The Grey Goose" to drive to work.

On Thursday morning "Murphy's Law" seemed to be the rule of the day. I went outside to warm up the Saturn at 4:25 a.m. before heading to the YMCA -- and it wouldn't start. I got the van going and drove to the "Y" for my workout. At about 7 a.m. I made it two blocks south of the house and the brake warning light came on. So I drove the van to a mechanic for fixing, rented a car and had AAA tow the car to the dealer. The car was an easy -- and free -- fix while the van required $446 in repairs.

I wanted to take Phil on a short trip in the van Saturday. But the weather was so lousy that I spent a great deal of time just clearing away the drifting snow with the snowblower and shovel. Come Monday afternoon we hope to use at least one of the vehicles from our "fleet" to get out of the house for at least an hour.

Surviving with faith, hope and love

2009-01-25T06:56:00.007-06:00

I've neglected my blog since Jan. 1 because I've felt overwhelmed by some of our latest challenges. Ever since my life partner Phil's paralyzing accident in 2001 and subsequent stroke and other health challenges, we've tried so hard to avoid the "victim" label by relying on faith, hope and love. But sometimes it's so difficult to cope with all the roadblocks.

Phil spent a week at the Zablocki VA Medical Center in Milwaukee earlier this month for his annual exam and tests. Doctors expressed some concern over his liver function and they're trying to determine why it's taken so long for infections on his left toes to heal.

As I was driving in rugged wintry conditions to Milwaukee on Friday, Jan. 9, to pick him up, I made it about three miles from home when the driver of another car didn't see me behind him, swerved in front of me and caused major damage to the left front and rear of my trusty 2000 Ford Taurus. Last week I received a mind-blowing estimate from a Kenosha body shop of $5,441 to repair the car. I meet tomorrow with an auto insurance agency rep of the guy who hit my car. That old Taurus means a lot to us because there's a wheelchair lift in the trunk and I recently installed new tires to make sure our means of transportation remains reliable. I'm so thankful Phil wasn't in the car during the accident.

Our morale was at least temporarily boosted when we watched a moving "20-20" special on ABC about people who had somehow survived incredible tragedy. One man miraculously survived being trapped under the wheels of a train. He and all other survivors talked about how they truly appreciate each day and take nothing for granted. Phil and I are attempting to continue our journey through life by relying on our faith, hope and love.

Burying 'every fear of the future'

2009-01-01T13:29:00.000-06:00

Phil and I are so happy to have 2008 behind us, and are optimistic that 2009 will be a year of progress in mind, body and soul. A book that's helped put me in a positive state -- at least for a few minutes -- each day since I went through treatment for my alcoholism at Hazelden in April 1981 is "Twenty-Four Hours a Day." The meditation for January 1 is especially appropriate:

"In the new year, I will live one day at a time. I will make each day one of preparation for better things ahead. I will not dwell on the past or the future, only on the present. I will bury every fear of the future, all thoughts of unkindness and bitterness, all my dislikes, my resentments, my sense of failure, my disappointments in others and in myself, my gloom and my despondency. I will leave all these things buried and go forward, in this new year, into a new life."

Goodbye, 2008! You were a good year even though some bad things happened. Hello, 2009! We welcome you with open arms.

A wild, wintry day in wonderland!

2008-12-21T18:44:00.001-06:00

I grabbed the big old snow shovel from the basement and managed to make a path from the front porch to Sheridan Road at about 4:30 Friday morning. God, it was heavy and the car was buried. I scraped the windows, started the trusty Taurus and said goodbye to Phil and Boss at 7. Driving south on wind-swept Sheridan across the Illinois border, I experienced a few miles of whiteout before arriving at the office after a harrowing trip of 13.2 miles. I sorted through a mound of paperwork before hitting the road once again for the 2.5 miles to work at DUI Court in the Lake County Courthouse in Waukegan. I was impressed that Room 405 was crowded, that so many people had somehow managed to survive lousy driving conditions. A pleasant holiday luncheon hosted by the judges for those of us who work in DUI Court followed the morning session.

Happy that I managed to make it through the morning, I was upset when I realized that somehow I'd left my cellphone in the courthouse after passing through the security scanners. No one had turned my phone in so I had to call AT&T Wireless to report my phone had been lost and/or stolen. Fortunately, I had an old phone stashed in a drawer at home and took it to the AT&T store in Kenosha where a sales associate activated it. Unfortunately, I had to start re-entering phone numbers of contacts that were in the new phone that had been lost and/or stolen.

I was happy to arrive home and find that our neighbor Trini was using his snow blower on our adjacent driveways. I dragged our snow blower out of the basement, cranked it up and helped Trini clear away the snow. Drifts more than 3 feet high on our front walk were especially challenging. It took two men with two snow blowers about an hour to "get 'er done."

Getting to the bottom of things

2008-12-03T20:54:00.001-06:00

At about 10:41 a.m. on Tuesday morning I signed a bunch of paperwork at the Zablocki VA Medical Center in Milwaukee, put on the delightful hospital robe where your butt hangs out and rolled on my left side on a patient bed so that the doctor and nurses could begin a delightful colonoscopy, my second in 10 years. God, I was soooo ready to get it over with.

The worst part of the whole procedure began on Monday when I couldn't eat anything after 9 a.m., then take four laxative pills at 11 a.m. and start drinking four liters of the salty-tasting GoLytely at 2 p.m. I was so tired, hungry and dehydrated when I left Kenosha for the VA that I couldn't wait to get there so I could get some rest. The doctor was pleasant, the nurses were nice and the tube that was inserted in you-know-where wasn't all that uncomfortable.

In the end, everything worked out just fine. Especially refreshing was the incredibly tasty glass of apple juice a nurse gave me after I'd spent an hour in the recovery room. Great God almighty, I'm on the go again!

'A Lesson in Caregiving'

2008-11-30T09:19:00.002-06:00

It was an honor for us to be the first gay couple to be featured in The Chronicle, the newsletter of the Kenosha County Division of Aging and Disability Services. A moving article by Paula Clark, community outreach coordinator, was titled "A Lesson in Caregiving" with a color cover photo and inside photo by Kevin Poirer, chief photographer of the Kenosha News.

Since November is National Family Caregiver Month, the article focuses on my role as caregiver to Phil, my life partner of more than 20 years. Paula writes that in February 2001 "life threw them both an unexpected curve ball. Phil was involved in a drunken-driving accident that left him a paraplegic and the world as they knew it was shattered instantly. Without hesitation, Bill stepped into his new role as Phil's caregiver. Adjusting to life was difficult, but they found ways to accommodate Phil's needs."

She notes that "Bill and Phil recently celebrated their 20th anniversary together surrounded by friends and family. Family is such an important part of our lives, and hopefully if the situation ever presents itself, we too will be there for each other." We're happy that Paula mentions our wonderful dog, Boss, who she says "has become Phil's constant companion and diligent protector."

Semi-retired, semi-grumpy

2008-11-22T17:11:00.000-06:00

Although I'm only 64 (as of May 15 of this year), I decided to semi-retire in September so I could spend more time assisting Phil, my paralyzed life partner -- and have some fun as well. I'm still representing the agency in DUI Court each morning. I do enjoy interacting with the judges, defense attorneys, prosecuting attorneys, clerks, probation officers, translators and other friends of the court. The work helps keep me alert and in a fairly positive state of mind. Otherwise, I'd find myself a completely grumpy old man instead of being just a semi-grumpy old man.

God, I'm amazed how I can work myself up into a frenzy over how fast-paced life is -- even at 5:30 in the morning when I'm returning from my daily workout at one of the local fitness centers. It totally amazes and -- at times -- overwhelms me when I make the early a.m. stop at a gas station that's swarming with people. Sometimes it seems like we're all on a giant treadmill -- going nowhere but getting there fast.

Child of God and earthly parents

2008-11-02T12:44:00.001-06:00

My life partner Phil realized a long held dream when he was baptized last Monday night during the quarterly healing service at the Lord of Life Lutheran Church in Kenosha. Associate Pastor Grant Quever directed the beautiful service that meant so much to both of us. While Phil was at the baptismal font I lit a candle as his sponsor. He received a certificate that recognizes he was born November 23, 1955, a "child of God and earthly parents." We are so grateful to Pastor Grant and Pastor Jennifer Arnold for making Phil's dream a reality.

Romans 6:4 For we were buried with Him by means of Baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ has arisen from the dead... so we may also walk in newness of life.

Boss the Wonder Dog with Phil and Bill

2008-10-22T18:29:00.001-05:00

Boss the Wonder Dog rests on the bed with Phil as I assure him that he means the world to us. This photo was taken by David Trotman-Wilkins of the Chicago Tribune. An article on the three of us by Lisa Black of the Trib appears in my March 27 blog entry. Phil and I adopted Boss on Jan. 4, 2000 from the Safe Harbor Humane Society in Kenosha. We were told by shelter workers that he was 1 and 1/2 years old, so his second birthday fell on Independence Day. No, Boss is not named after Bruce Springsteen, one of our favorite singers. Rather, it's because our beloved mutt is "boss of the house." We're truly blessed to have him in our lives.

Raindrops keep falling on my . . .

2008-10-19T17:10:00.000-05:00

Accent the positive, turn a lemon into lemonade, there's got to be a morning after and, of course, "pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start all over again." Ever since my life partner Phil's paralyzing accident more than seven years ago, we've tried to not let anything get us completely down. But, damn it all, sometimes it's hard. Even on the day of our 20th anniversary party last month -- a genuinely happy affair with lots of friends present -- I noticed as I was changing the sheets o n my bed that there was a leak in the ceiling of the upstairs bedroom. I called a roofing company and they put one of those blue tarps on the roof about 40 minutes before the party started.

We've had some bids, all in the $9,000 to $10,000 range, to replace the roof -- hopefully before the first cold blast of winter arrives. Because Phil and our dog Boss wouldn't be comfortable in the house while all the pounding is going on, I'm trying to arrange for my partner to stay at the VA in Milwaukee and to take said buddy beastie with me to a more tranquil place. It will all come together, I suppose. In the meantime, I'll try to find glasses that are half full instead of half empty.

20 years of 'for better or for worse'

2008-09-28T12:57:00.002-05:00

Phil Anderson and I celebrated our 20th anniversary together with a party at our Kenosha home on Saturday, Sept. 13. We had a commitment ceremony on Sept. 17, 1988, when we were living in Wausau. Little did we know then that we would face so many challenges, including Phil's nearly fatal and paralyzing auto accident, as well as so many joys and wonderful moments. We're especially proud of doing something that many gay and straight couples haven't done -- and that's staying committed to each other "for better or for worse" for 20 years.

Here are a few comments friends made in cards and notes to us:

"I know I've said it before, but it remains true, the two of you are an inspiration." -- Elizabeth

"The dedication and strength you men embody in your lives together are truly enviable. Warm wishes for many more years together." -- Diane and Jim

"Our hope is that the joy of your life together lives on . . . and the trials you've shared will serve only to make you stronger." -- Jerry and Ging

"What a beautiful love story you two have." -- Sue

While we have felt overwhelmed on occasion by some of our misfortunes, Phil and I are truly grateful to have each other, to have friends and family who care so much about us and to have the unconditional love our dog, Boss.

I have a dream that some day gay couples like us won't be viewed as a threat to the sanctity of marriage, to the sanctity of family. In the meantime, we'll continue to support and love each other "for better or for worse."

Going nutso over technology

2008-09-07T12:58:00.002-05:00

After working out on a sophisticated cardio machine early Wednesday morning, I returned home to find that the TV in Phil's sunroom and the TV in the living room weren't projecting the news of the day. Rather, both sets were hissing loudly and displaying screenfuls of snow. I tried to reset the cable box but it was dead to the world. The culprit turned out to be a frayed and fried extension cord that almost melted. I found a new heavy-duty extension cord and hooked it to the cable box. Abundant joy followed when both televisions were working again. I left for work knowing that I had accomplished a most remarkable feat.

But my joy was short lived. Returning home from work, I turned on our laptop computer and couldn't access the Internet. I unplugged and replugged the modem, checked other connections and looked at the settings on the computer. But no Internet connection. Later, I spent 48 minutes on the phone with our cable TV provider's representative -- a friendly woman I believe was from India -- who tried to lead me through a you-can-fix-it-yourself set of directions. I plugged, unplugged, typed codes, stuck a pin in reset hole in a box in the basement and tried all sorts of additional exotic tasks. But no Internet connection. I told the friendly woman I was tired and numb, and would attempt to renew my quest the next day.

Following futile attempts Thursday morning to correct the problem, I asked Phil to call the cable company. He was told a technician could stop by the house Friday morning. Imagine our surprise when it took the technician less than 20 seconds to at fix what was ailing us. He simply pushed the modem's "Standby" button that I had overlooked -- and we were once again connected to the world. It was an "obvious" fix that hadn't been very obvious to me.

Already mourning the downtown 'Y'

2008-08-18T18:39:00.001-05:00

When Kenosha's historic downtown YMCA building is taken over by new owners next August, many of us "early-birders" who have used that historic facility for years are already mourning its passing. Not only is the downtown 'Y' convenient for those us who live close by, it's also been a place where many friendships have been developed.

Yes, the Callahan Family Branch out west is a grand building -- albeit a far away building for many members -- and yes, new friendships can be developed out there as well, but I'm going to miss the little things downtown like being able to walk our dog Boss in beautiful Library Park before the doors of the 'Y' open each morning.

While the Kenosha YMCA leadership and board members have tried to reassure the the community that a downtown presence will be maintained, there are more than a few of us who are quite certain that reasons will surface to keep that from happening. I can imagine a press release being issued next July after an afternoon board meeting that will say something like: "In these challenging economic times and in light of the fact that the Kenosha YMCA is investing considerable funds in building a magnificent swimming pool at the Callahan Family Branch, we are saddened to report that it's just not feasible to operate another facility." I hope I'm wrong.

Out with the old, in with the new

2008-08-17T19:31:00.000-05:00

So many old homes -- comfortable homes once teeming with life -- have met the wrecking ball -- or were used by firefighters as training sites. I used to drive by an older Kenosha home several times a week and marvel at the antique cars sitting outside. I almost stopped one morning to chat with the owner. I regret that I didn't. Now it's too late. The home was on the edge of a new development that features condominiums and town houses. But the comfortable old home that looked out of place amidst the gleaming new palaces is no more. It was burned to the ground by firefighters during a training exercise. There have been scores upon scores of homes across southern Wisconsin and northern Illinois that have met their demise in recent years to make way for progress. It's a "progress" that saddens me.

Why visitors mean so much

2008-07-27T17:07:00.001-05:00

When Lila Seiple, my mother's mother, was in her 60s and 70s, I can remember how excited she was when I'd stop to visit her at her home in Rochelle, Illinois. My grandmother -- Mamaw, we called her -- never drove a car so she especially appreciated me when I'd drive her to the Hub Restaurant for a meal or to the Kroger's supermarket for some groceries.

I loved Mamaw's sense of humor, independent nature and her great work ethnic. Because my grandfather died when she was still a fairly young woman, she had to work at the old Spurgeon's department store to support herself. I loved seeing her interact with customers in that store. Her warm smile and gentle spirit made everyone feel like an old friend.

After Mamaw moved to a nursing home, I'd stop to see her whenever I could. She wasn't supposed to eat sweets but I'd take her out to lunch and make sure she'd have a small piece of pie. Mamaw would never leave the nursing home until she died. Looking back, I wish that I had visited her more frequently because she was an important part of my life. When I was growing up and angry at Mom and Dad over minor and not-so-minor issues, Mamaw -- a frequent visitor at our home in Belvidere -- would always assure me that everything would be OK.

Fast forward to 2008 in Kenosha, Wisconsin, where I'm 64 and Phil, my life partner, is 52 and paralyzed from the waist down. Phil, who also had a major stroke a few years ago, spends much of his time in bed. Since it's difficult for us to get out and about as much as we'd like, we truly appreciate the friends and family members who stop by to visit us. Now I understand why Mamaw so enjoyed my trips to see her in Rochelle.

Boss turns 10 on the Fourth

2008-07-06T09:01:00.001-05:00

Boss, our beloved mutt, turned 10 on the Fourth of July. We celebrated by giving our "boss of the house" a big frosted cookie decorated with red, white and blue sprinkles. When Phil and I adopted him on Jan. 4, 2000, from the Safe Harbor Humane Society, we were told he was about 1 and 1/2 years old. So we reasoned that his second birthday would be on Independence Day, a most fitting day since it would represent his freedom from living in a kennel. Boss may not understand the concept of freedom, but we're certain he knows he's got a pretty good life in our home. He sleeps wherever he wants, eats well and is treated with great affection by the two of us. After Phil's paralyzing accident in February 2001, Boss became a therapeutic companion. He's a great listener and provides Phil -- and me, for that matter -- with unconditional love. Thanks, Boss, for all that you've given us.

Grumpy old man hits the road

2008-06-29T17:47:00.000-05:00

Now that I'm 64 and possessed with incredible self-awareness, I've come to the realization that I'm the only good driver in Kenosha County, Wisconsin, and Lake County, Illinois. Every other driver is incompetent and possessed with so much road rage that I'm sometimes hesitant to hit the road. Even at 4:45 in the morning when I'm driving to the YMCA for a daily workout that enables me to maintain my amazing physique and stamina, there's almost always someone on the tail of my trusty Taurus -- even when I'm tooling at 37 mph in a 30 mph zone.

Driving the 13.2 miles to work in Waukegan, Illinois, can provide vast amounts of frustration, especially when I'm driving down the two-lane stretch of Sheridan Road on the Wisconsin side of the border. I'm usually cruising at 52 mph, or 7 miles an hour over the limit. But that ain't fast enough for the three or four anxiety-stricken motorists behind me. The horror, oh, the horror!

I've thought about mounting powerful speakers on the trunk of my car so I can inform them, "For God's sake, I'm already going way over the posted speed limit! Can't you see that? Why don't you leave your house a few minutes early so you don't have to be so fast and so furious? Why don't you realize that I'm the only sane, rational and competent driver?" Actually, I probably wouldn't say all that good stuff. I'd be afraid that one of the anxiety-stricken motorists behind me would accidentally shoot this grumpy old man while attempting to blow away my speakers. For now, I'll continue to internalize my frustration rather than risk falling victim to all the irresponsible maniacs out there.

Learning to live with grief

2008-06-21T13:58:00.000-05:00

Driving home from work Thursday I spotted a robin-blue Ford Ranger pick-up truck, much like the one that Phil used to drive before his paralyzing accident in February 2001. Phil had traded in the truck he loved so much for a car about a week before he nearly died. A self-taught mechanic, Phil changed the oil regularly, tweaked the engine to make sure it ran just right and washed it once a week. He treated the truck better than some parents treat their children. He's told me on several occasions, "I wished I'd never traded it in. God, I loved that truck." Seeing that robin-blue Ranger caused me to get teary-eyed over Phil's loss. While both of us mourn not having the truck around, what's really important is that Phil is still around.

I was sick with a heavy-duty cold and cough much of the week, and was absolutely wiped out Thursday night when I was trying to get the recyclables, newspapers and garbage ready to take to the curb for the Friday morning collection. Knowing how tired I was, Phil told me, "Help me get in the wheelchair so I can help you." I'd just about completed the task when he offered his assistance, but I was moved by his kind gesture.

Yes, there are days when we both grieve over the loss of little things that we used to take for granted. But we still have each other. And we still have many people in our lives who truly care about us.

A celebration of 20 years together

2008-06-15T19:09:00.001-05:00

If you're able to drive, fly or boat to our home in Kenosha from 1 to 7 p.m. on Saturday, Sept. 13, you'll be welcomed by me and my life partner Phil Anderson to a celebration of our 20 years together. We're asking that you tell your social secretary to mark that date on your calendar. Our humble abode is at 7722 Sheridan Road.

It was on Sept. 17, 1988, that we made a commitment to each other in a small ceremony in our then home in Wausau. We've had so very many good times and so much support from friends, family members and even strangers throughout those 20 years. Especially touching to both of us has been the encouragement we've received since Phil's paralyzing and near-fatal auto accident in February 2001.

Phil and I have remained together "for better or for worse" for almost two decades. That's something many straight couples haven't been able to accomplish.

Tell your dad you love him

2008-06-15T10:34:00.001-05:00

My dad, Clair M. Hetland, a World War II front-line soldier who was a member of the "Greatest Generation," wasn't the most demonstrative person, a stereotypical stoic Norwegian. But I knew he loved me and my younger brother Rich. He'd take us fishing during summer vacations in northern Wisconsin, try to make a baseball player out of a non-jock like me, cheer Rich on during his football games and wrestling matches, attend our band concerts even when he was tired after a long day of selling cars, attempt to be patient while teaching me how to drive a stick-shift 1950 Plymouth that was Mom's car and finally accept me being gay. We told Dad we loved him, especially in those months before he died of cancer. While I should have expressed my love more frequently, I know there are some men out there who seem to think that saying "love" out loud just isn't a manly thing to do.

I'm quite proud of my brother for the love he has for his wife Bonnie and their children Jorie, Richie and David. They know he loves them. And, in turn, they're open with their love for him. Many years ago when all the kids were at home, I remember asking Rich what it was like for him to return home to his energetic children after a long and hectic day at work. "They're an asolute joy," he told me. While Jorie, Richie and David were in high school, Dad may have seemed like a pain in the butt at times. But he loved them. They were, after all, "an absolute joy."

The joys(?) of refinancing

2008-06-08T06:24:00.002-05:00

Phil and I are in the process of refinancing our home, in part so we can purchase a used wheelchair-accessible van that will make it so much easier on both of us when we want to get out of the house and have some fun. Over the past seven years I've become quite adept at breaking down his power wheelchair that includes two 50-pound batteries and a 125-pound frame and getting it into the trunk of the car. An electric lifting arm provided by the VA Medical Center in Milwaukee eases the task somewhat but it would be much easier if Phil could just zip up a ramp and into a van. Bad weather makes it a special challenge to help him transfer from his wheelchair into the car without both of us getting soaked.

While the loan officer I've been talking with several times a week is very pleasant and the appraisal went well (for the most part), there were little annoyances like the wind storm that tore off a large piece of trim on the front roof overhang the weekend before the appraiser was scheduled to stop by. I couldn't get it fixed and -- sure enough -- the repair needs to be made before final loan approval. A contractor is scheduled to get 'er done early this week.

Our hope is that in the very near future we'll be tooling around in a van and paying off some bills. As the song says, "There's got to be a morning after."

So much to do, so little time

2008-05-25T06:35:00.002-05:00

Good God almighty! I've been so wrapped up in worrying about all that needs to be done at work and at home that I've not set aside time to make a blog entry since May 11. However, I remain proud of maintaining an old-fashioned, handwritten journal every day since 1979. I try to capture the mundane and not-so-mundane events so that on those rare days when I have some free time I can grab a journal and take a look at what my life was like way back in 1983 when I was editor of Mesabi Daily News in Minneosta or in 1987 when I met my lifepartner Phil in Wausau, Wisconsin, or in 1997 when we bought a home in Kenosha. In spite of my occasional moaning about having so much to do with so little time, I've at least set aside a few minutes daily over the past 29 years to demonstrate that I'm not completely without discipline in my life.

The power(?) of suggestions

2008-05-11T09:23:00.003-05:00

Most of us appreciate receiving thoughtful suggestions from well-meaning friends, family and colleagues. But there are times when clerks/salespeople/associates mildly annoy me with their suggestions. Whenever I buy gas and important items like soda, bread and coffee at a favorite gas station in Kenosha, the smiling people at checkout are likely to ask as they're ringing up my bill, "Would you like a car wash?" Or "Could I interest you in some cookies or donuts to go with that coffee?" Or "Would you like to try one of our new breakfast sandwiches?"

Once when I was when in the drive-up lane with our dog Boss at a fast-food chicken place, the young woman told me just before I placed my order, "If you buy a 16-piece family meal today, we'll give you a free cake." Just what Boss and I needed: 16 pieces of fried chicken, large bowls of mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese -- and a cake.

There's a burger joint that asks me to buy or try something whenever I take the drive-up lane. A plus is that I now get more exercise because I'd rather get out of my car and go inside and place my order than subject myself to more suggestions. For some reason the workers inside seldom suggest buying anything other than what I ordered.

Actually, here's a response I give when I'm asked if there is anything else I need. "Yes, I'd like at least a half-gallon of sanity and serenity." If they do have it, they're not selling it.

Maybe it's PTSD

2008-05-04T09:01:00.001-05:00

Sometimes I think the cumulative impact of events that have followed Phil's near death and paralyzing injuries on that horrible Februry 2001 morning have resulted in me having a form of PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). He had the subsequent stroke, multiple seizures and additional surgeries that weighed heavily on my mind. I had to deal with his insurances issues and bills while he was hospitalized, worry about keeping the house and attempt to maintain my sanity at work. We've both dealt with severe depression, endured the bankruptcy process and have struggled to find light in the darkest of days. Friends, family and strangers have provided help and hope.

Humor also helps somewhat. I told Phil yesterday that I thought of the old Beatles song that will have special meaning when I turn 64 on May 15. As he looked up at me from the hospital bed in our sunroom, I sang, "Will you still love me, will you still need me when I'm 64?" Phil's response, "Of course I will."

Planting some seeds of recovery

2008-04-20T16:58:00.000-05:00

My message on the value of support groups like AA must have had a positive impact on at least some of the 17 moderate-, significant- and high-risk clients I spoke to Friday night. Among the individuals who thanked me following my "sermon-nette" was a young African-American woman who told me, "Whoo-eee, Mr. Bill, you're quite a talker. I liked what you had to say."

I shared some of my adventures on the road to recovery and talked about the individuals who planted some seeds that finally blossomed. I mentioned that no matter how alone you may feel and how unique you think you and your problems are that there are all kinds of support groups that can help. Whether you've had a stroke, suffer from post-polio syndrome or have lost your home in a tornado, there are scores upon scores of organizations willing to provide you with hope.

Years before I entered treatment for my alcoholism at Hazelden, I wrote an article for a newspaper I edited about a woman who had been sober for a long time. She told me that before she and her husband became active in AA, they'd go bar-hopping when they'd go on vacation or move to a new town. After all, she said, we wanted to find a bar where we felt comfortable. "Now that we've been in AA for many years," she said, "we go AA-hopping when we go on vacation or move to a new town." I shared her suggestion with the clients Friday night because I wanted to encourge them not to quit AA because of one negative experience. "You're bound to find an AA group with individuals you can related to," I said. Nowadays, there are AA meetings for young people, women, non-smokers, professionals, Harley riders, people of color, gays and lesbians, doctors, pharmacists, clergy . . . and the list goes on and on.

Frankly, I was dragging when I left home to speak to the clients Friday night. But my energy level was much higher after my presentation. I felt I may have planted some seeds of recovery that may eventually blossom.

Touching moment in DUI court

2008-04-17T20:59:00.000-05:00

There was an especially touching moment in DUI court yesterday when a young woman approached the judge and asked for more time to pay her fines. She said she had been hospitalized after the death of her baby and was suffering from post-partum depression. The judge, who said he was sorry to learn of her loss, asked the young woman when the baby died. Tearful and shaking, she held up her right hand and struggled to tell him that the baby died five weeks ago. I hope her family and friends offer comfort as she tries to cope with her overwhelming sadness.

'I'm mad as hell and I'm . . .'

2008-04-06T17:49:00.000-05:00

I've been in a "I'm mad as hell and not going to take it any more" frame of mind for at least a few days. I get angry at things small and not so small: people who drive like they're on fire, dealing with all the hurt and anxiety since Phil was paralyzed and nearly killed seven years ago, being tired of spending most of my adult life as a don't-rock-the-boat gay man, losing a few lifelong friends who have abandoned us and being so overwhelmed by life that I find it difficult to accomplish mundane tasks like taking out the garbage and opening the mail.

A few years ago I wrote Oprah and Dr. Phil with an offer to tell our story, about how we've remained committed to each other despite being pushed to the brink by events that I never dreamed we would have to face. I got form responses from their staffs, indicating they do review every piece of mail. Ain't heard nothing yet. Karen, a high school classmate, said she thinks Phil and I would be perfect subjects for "Oprah's Big Give." Ain't likely to happen. I once thought about writing "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" to let those folks know how challenging it has been to make our old house wheelchair accessible. But I figured they wouldn't really care to tell the story of two old gay farts.

When I turn 64 on May 15, I'm hoping that I won't be quite as angry as I am today. When Phil and I observe our 20th anniversary as a couple on Sept. 17, I'm hoping that straight people will realize just what an accomplishment that is. Until then, I'll try not to let anger get the best of me.

27 years sober! That's no foolin'

2008-04-01T21:36:00.000-05:00

April Fool's Day is a most appropriate day for my AA birthday. I still do foolish things from time to time but nothing can compare with the foolishness of my drinking days. It amazes me that 27 years have passed since I began my recovery journey way back in 1981 at Hazelden in Center City, Minneosta. One day at a time evolved into one week at a time into one month at a time into one year at a time. Twenty-seven years and hundreds upon hundreds of challenges later, I remain grateful for my sobriety.

Chicago Tribune shares our story

2008-03-27T17:05:00.000-05:00

Phil and I were moved the by beautiful article by Lisa Black that appeared in the March 26 edition of the Chicago Tribune. The article, which ran on Page 1 of the Metro section, included a large color photo of us with our dog Boss and two photos inside. The photos were taken by the Trib's David Trotman-Wilkins. I received many positive comments from attorneys in DUI court this morning as well as from my colleagues at work. Following is the article.

Alcohol's grip follows ex-drinker through life
At work and even at home, he can't escape

reminders of the bottle's destructive effects

By Lisa Black/Tribune reporter

Bill Hetland can't escape the effects of alcohol, though he has been sober 27 years.

His job takes him into a Waukegan courtroom, where he provides a judge with evaluations of people caught drinking and driving. Some arrive smelling of booze, while others sob as they apologize for a first-time offense.

At night, Hetland returns home to care for his life partner, who was left paralyzed in a drunken-driving accident in 2001. Hetland tries to make sense of it by reaching for a recovering alcoholic's creed:

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."

Sometimes I am screaming the Serenity Prayer while driving," admits Hetland, who lets off steam in his 2004 Ford Taurus, which has 125,000 miles on it. "Sometimes the stuff seems unrelenting."

Hetland, 63, is a familiar figure in Lake County as a longtime spokesman and court liaison for Nicasa, formerly called the Northern Illinois Council on Alcoholism and Substance Abuse. There, his frank, assuring presence inspires others.

Few would guess the story behind the man who honed his self-deprecating sense of humor over years of personal tragedy.On one recent day in court, Hetland sat next to Judge Charles Johnson, shuffling through DUI evaluation papers that rank the defendants by their level of risk to the community.

Despite the seriousness of the crimes, the proceedings were lightened by the good humor of Hetland and the judge.

Within 15 minutes, Johnson had seen a half-dozen defendants, including a man who was operating a boat at 3 a.m. under the influence, a petite woman who bowed her head as she pleaded guilty to driving drunk and a man scheduled to enter a residential treatment center.

"Those beds are harder to find than a Republican in Lake County these days," remarked the judge.

More than 4,000 people are arrested in Lake County annually for driving while intoxicated, and Hetland said having a sense of humor is invaluable amid such misery.

He recalled a defendant named Johnny Walker, and how one attorney muttered under his breath, "I bet his lawyer is Jack Daniels."

Hetland considers himself fortunate when he thinks about his own drinking days."I always rationalized that I couldn't be an alcoholic because I didn't get sick," said Hetland, who was a small-town newspaper editor when he checked himself into treatment on April 1, 1981.

"I didn't get physically violent. I didn't miss work."

He did have blackouts.

One day, he had a dim memory of standing in front of a department store window late the night before. Then he read a newspaper account in which a woman said she saw a man knocking out a department store's glass window.

Cold dread settled in. He believed he was that man.

But it wasn't until Hetland wrote a series of articles about alcoholism for the Mesabi Daily News in Virginia, Minn., that he recognized he had the disease. Shortly after that, he asked friends to drive him to a Hazelden addiction center.

Three newspaper jobs later, he left the business to join Nicasa.

Hetland's personal experience with alcohol helps him relate to clients, said Judy Fried, the agency's executive officer. She hired him as communications coordinator 18 years ago because of his experience—he had worked at eight newspapers in six states—as well as his recovery.

"He's very passionate about what he does and why he does it," Fried said. "He enjoys working with the public very much. He loves going out in the community and doing presentations."

For more than a decade, Hetland relied on his knowledge of alcoholism to help others see the damage they were doing to their lives. Then he experienced the effects of alcohol abuse from still a new angle: a victim's.

In February 2001, his partner, Phillip Anderson, left a bar, drove his Saturn around a corner too fast and hit a tree 5 miles from the couple's Kenosha home.

Flown to Froedtert Memorial Lutheran Hospital in Milwaukee, he was treated for a broken neck that paralyzed him from the waist down. His blood alcohol level tested at 0.23, nearly three times the state's legal limit.

Since then, Anderson, 52, has suffered a stroke and had multiple surgeries. He takes 62 pills a day and requires around-the-clock care, provided by Hetland at night and a health aide by day.

"It is ironic, to say the least, that [Hetland's] relationship essentially changed forever due to a drunk-driving accident," said Kevin Thomsen, a social worker at the Milwaukee VA Medical Center, where Anderson receives outpatient therapy in the center's spinal cord injury unit.

Still, Thomsen said, "I've never met a more genuinely happy and positive person."

Hetland and Anderson now share a comfortable wooden-frame home that friends have helped renovate to accommodate Anderson's disabilities. Hetland awakens at 4 a.m. every day, reads three newspapers, works out at the YMCA and returns to help Anderson with his medical needs before he leaves for work.

"I'm a daily routine," said Anderson, who sleeps in a first-floor sunroom. "It doesn't stop."

The fact that Anderson was legally drunk when the wreck occurred no longer matters, Hetland tells his partner.

Longtime friends aren't surprised by the way Hetland handled the tragedy.

John "Jedwin" Smith, 62, of Atlanta recalled that when the two worked together at a Belvidere paper, the publisher wanted to give Hetland a $50 raise, but Hetland declined it.

"Bill said, 'What I'd really like you to do is give me a $20 raise and give the rest to John Smith,' because he knew I had two daughters," said Smith, who was earning $150 a week at the time.

Smith said that when most people were trying to get out of duty in Vietnam, Hetland lost weight so that he would be allowed to serve.

Before the stroke three years ago, Anderson could wheel himself down the road to a nearby coffee house. Today, he remains largely incapacitated, passing time smoking Pall Malls, watching his "fighting fish" in an aquarium and hanging out with the couple's dog, Boss.

Household repairs often fall behind, as Anderson was the handier of the two and can no longer fix things.

The couple recalled a time when Anderson was in bed and water dripped on him from a leak overhead.

He held up a cup to catch the water while Hetland ran for a mop. All they could do was laugh.

Said Hetland: "When it rains, it pours."

lblack@tribune.com

'Baby' gives us a scare

2008-03-21T19:52:00.000-05:00

Boss, our beloved mutt who Phil affectionately calls "Baby," gave us a scare last night. He's had some ear wax buildup that I've been trying to remove this week with daily applications of ear cleaner. He'd been shaking his head repeatedly for the past several days and last night we could tell he was extremely uncomfortable. I couldn't get him to lay in bed with me for more than a few minutes and he'd whine when he'd get back on the floor. I got up at 1 a.m. and applied some more cleaner and tried to reassure him with some "Baby" talk. It seemed to help. For about 45 minutes before I left for work, he didn't shake his head once. To make sure that our surrogate son is OK, I set up his annual exam with our vet tomorrow morning. Boss means the world to both of us.

Angry? Frustrated? Consider these tips

2008-03-17T20:20:00.000-05:00

Good God almighty! I've been in an angry-at-the-world frame of mind for too many days. Even yesterday when Phil and I had a fun outing, I almost had a meltdown as I was trying to help him out of his wheelchair and into bed. His wheelchair bumped the phone and answering machine by his bed and the cord from the phone to the jack got mangled in one of the wheels. I ranted and raved at no one in particular -- and managed to scare both Phil and our dog Boss. I did eventually manage to compose myself and found a replacement cord from an old phone we no longer use.

We've dealt with so very many major challenges over the past seven years, yet it was a fairly minor hassle that almost drove me over the edge. I felt better after re-reading some Tips for An Exceptional Life forwarded to me via email by Cheryl Van Abbema, who I've known since grade school. Here are some of those tips. They may benefit you.

* Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day. Buy a lock if you have to.

* When you wake up in the morning complete the following statement, "My purpose is to __________ today."

* Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm, Empathy.

* Watch more movies, play more games and read more books than you did last year.

* Spend more time with people over the age of 70 and under the age of six (not just people who ACT like they are over 70 or under the age of 6).

* Try to make at least three people smile each day.

* Clear your clutter from your house, your car, your desk and let new and flowing energy into your life.

* Don't waste your precious energy on gossip, energy vampires, issues of the past, negative thoughts or things you cannot control. Instead, invest your energy in the positive present moment.

* Life isn't fair, but it's still good.

* Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

* Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

* You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

* Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.

* Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

* No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

* What other people think of you is none of your business.

Philadelphian likes Midwesterners

2008-03-06T20:05:00.000-06:00

During recess in DUI Court this morning I had a nice visit with a young woman who's new to the Public Defender's staff. Originally from Philadelphia -- the City of Brotherly Love -- she said she's been quite impressed with the warmth and friendliness of us Midwesterners. In big cities like Chicago and Milwaukee she said you can ask people on the street for directions -- and they'll actually respond. In Philadelphia and other large East Coast cities, she told me that a person you approach out there will likely think you're going to mug them.

We laughed about the horrible reputation that Philadephia Eagles fans have. They'll throw trash and scream obscenities at opposing teams. And if the the Eagles are playing poorly the fans aren't hesitant to heap abuse on them as well.

I told her about a fond memory I have of Philadelphia. On leave from basic training at Fort Dix, N.J., my friend Les and I were looking at a menu on a window of a Philadelphia restaurant. An older couple saw that we were in uniform and bought us a very nice dinner. There really are friendly decent people everywhere.

Proud to be an NIU graduate

2008-02-25T20:38:00.000-06:00

The horrific shooting deaths of five Northern Illinois University students on Feb. 14 resulted in an outpouring of prayers, sympathy and support from around the world. As a 1966 graduate of NIU's journalism department, I was so proud of the way the university community came together to begin the healing process. President John Peters displayed exceptional leadership and compassion, area law enforcement and emergency medical teams responded to 911 calls in less than a minute and students and faculty created moving memorials to the slain students.

I took special interest in the outstanding coverage of the tragedy by the staff and advisers of the Northern Star student newspaper. I was editor of the Norther yearbook and summer editor of the Star way back then, and I always relished being a part of that great journalistic fraternity. We cared about each other then and many of us have kept in touch over the past 42 years. The members of the 2008 Northern Star staff are so fortunate to have each other to rely on through tragedy and triumph. I'm certain they will remain connected throughout their entire lives.

God bless the families and friends of the slain students. God bless NIU.

At least I'm thinking about it

2008-02-24T18:54:00.000-06:00

This old house really needs a good spring cleaning -- and it's not even spring. As I watered the plants and dusted off three TV screens yesterday, I saw the need to get rid of the clutter that seems to be overtaking the homestead. Phil had three boxes of medical supplies delivered over the weekend that I "temporarily" stuffed into a corner of the dining room. While I did summon up enough strength to vacuum downstairs and do two loads of laundry, I decided that a complete and heavy-duty spring cleaning can wait until spring. I have far more important things to do -- like take a Sunday nap.