Tag: Drawn & Quarterly

2020 week thirty six

Stuff Read
27. Hostage – Guy Delisle
Fat Shaming Shouldn’t Be Part of Our “New Normal” – Erica Thorkelson (The Walrus)

2020 Running to Date
1,905.5 KM

2020 Cycling to Date
1,805.6 KM

Days Without Strava Activity: 31

I used to write these on Sunday but it’s been Monday for a month so I guess Wednesday is fine. Stephanie picked up this Drawn and Quarterly graphic novel for me because she’s shares my appreciation for dry wit. It tells the true story of Christophe André who was kidnapped in 1997 while working in Chechnya for Doctors Without Boarders. It follows André for nearly 500 pages of him not much else than chained to a radiator. And yet, it is a very compelling story. I was engrossed from start to finish. I heard Erica Thorkelson talk about this piece she wrote for The Walrus on CBC Early Edition with Stephen Quinn the other morning and it was good so I figured I should give it a read and it is very good. It opens with some fit shaming that is an unfortunate distraction from the rest of the piece, which has really important things to say about fatphobia and especially how fat bodies are treated (abhorrently) by the medical profession in particular, as well as by society in general. Thorkelson draws on her personal relationship to weight and her body, and her decision to stop weighing herself. She encourages her readers to do the same. I don’t share her position – I weigh myself frequently – but I understand why she has chosen not to and I think she makes a good case. Her personal, authentic experience is not up for debate. The piece is frank and honest. I think everyone should read it.

Brian Jungen’s Cetology (2002) installation at the Vancouver Art Gallery. I took a bunch of pain medication and went to see it on its final day Sunday. The room made it impossible to get a full shot without a fish-eye lens. This photo has nothing to do with any of this. I just love this piece of art and I’m very happy I finally got to see it in person. Cetology is one of three whale skeletons made of resin lawn chairs. The first, Shapeshifter (2000), is in the collection of the National Gallery of Canada.

I’m thankful every damn day that I live in Canada and don’t have to deal with an American style healthcare system, but that doesn’t mean that it is without some significant problems. Thorkelson talks about some of them in her piece, and I told a story last post here about my adventures in pain management. Another frustration I’ve had is the fact that soon after my crash it became rather apparent that I’d suffered a head injury that has been acknowledged while in hospital but otherwise shrugged off. I’ve since determined that what probably happened is the load of lumber that struck me hit my head just under my helmet. It was Stephanie who first noticed the lump on my head on my right just above my ear. My lawyer has since confirmed that, through witness accounts, I most certainly lost consciousness. I was sure that I hadn’t, but my injuries and memory tell another story. It’s pretty clear from my knees, hands, shoulder and side (not to mention my helmet, sunglasses and cycling kit) that I got a good slide on the asphalt after I hit the ground. I remember going down, but I have no recollection of the slide. I have consistently raised alarm that I have an acknowledged yet untreated head injury. My file was handed from Lions Gate to VGH Trauma, which meant weekly xrays of my punctured lung followed by telephone consultations with the trauma doctor. The lung was their primary concern, but I at least got them to put a referral into the concussion centre. This was followed finally by a call from GF Strong who first needed to know if this was a WorkSafeBC or ICBC claim. I handled that question like a champ who has ten fractured bones and on a powerful narcotic pain medicine that does an okay but not excellent job, and comes with a plethora of side effects that include constipation, nausea and irritability: “I was hit by a negligent driver while cycling, so I guess it’s ICBC but frankly I don’t fucking care who’s paying; I just want someone to treat my head injury.” GF Strong replied that they’d get back to me. Next call with the trauma doctor and I tell her about my call with GF Strong, including my vocalized frustration and that I haven’t heard from them since and they say they will follow up. Soon after I get a follow up call from GF Strong, and the person on the line regales me with a long list of resources that are available to me because my injury is an ICBC claim, but in fact since XX date (they tell me the date, but I don’t remember) the Vancouver Coastal Health concussion centre at GF Strong is no longer able(?) allowed(?) to provide concussion treatment to ICBC claimants. So, long (boring, sorry) story short, I’m struggling to get treatment for my head injury, and the trauma doctor refers me to the one place in VCH that cannot or will not treat someone with an ICBC claim.

The following day I’m in physiotherapy and I tell this story to my physiotherapist and she is great, and books me an appointment to see someone in her office who has a specialty in treating concussions. I go for the consultation and it is exactly four weeks since my crash. I’m feeling good, head-wise, maybe even a bit cocky like I’m wasting their time. We run though the story and some questions and then she puts me through some eye tests and they’re fine but one gets me a bit scrambled but I don’t think much of it and we finish the tests and they’re talking and I can’t explain what happens but I just tell them to stop talking and I have a cold sweat and the worst nausea and I ask for a cup of water and say I’m not doing well. They bring me water and a pillow and turn out the light and I manage to pull it together a bit but I’m wrecked. They tell me it’s normal. They tell me that it’s going to be okay and they can fix it, that they can help me get better. I’m wrecked for the next 24 hours from trying to follow an X on a pencil with my eyes. And I’m mad. I’m mad that this fucking guy did this to me and I’m mad that I’m broken and I’ve been asking for help for a month and getting incompetence in return. I’m fucking mad. I’m confident that I’m going to get better and I’m happy that I’ve finally found help but I’m just mad that it happened and I’m mad that it was left up to me to figure out how to get the help I need. I’m going back tomorrow.

2019 week forty seven

Book Read
43. Berlin – Jason Lutes

Kilometres Ran
week forty seven – 61.0

2019 to date: 2,466 KM

I was looking for something easy and casual to read because I just haven’t been in the novel mood lately and I’m pretty tired of short stories so I was poking around and came across this graphic novel called Berlin that I thought looked interesting and familiar. A while ago I picked up a copy of the Left Bank Gang by Jason; it’s a fun, easy read set in Paris. So when saw the cover of Berlin by Jason (Lutes) I expected a fun, easy read set in Berlin.

They’re nothing alike. At all.

Berlin is not a fun, easy read. The book is a collection of Lutes’ 20 year long, 22-issue series exploring the life in Berlin from 1928 until 1933. It’s a very deep dive into historical fiction. It’s all drawn black and white or whatever the graphic-novel lingo is for black and white and my only complaint is that from time to time the text is really small and dense and difficult to read. Otherwise, it’s really great. It’s timely what with the re-emergence of fascism that is currently happening here and south and in Europe. So, yeah, not a happy read. Makes me want to revisit Maus though. Maybe I’ll just read comics for the rest of the year.

It only happens once per year. Thank gawd.

So after not shaving my face since October 31 I got out the clippers and cut away the sparse sprouts from my cheeks and chin, leaving behind a snot saver just below the nose, and then jogged down to Second Beach in Stanley Park for the annual Moustache Miler. The weather wasn’t great but the rain was trying to stay at bay. With just two weeks until CIM I threw in for the one mile race, a short loop east and back on the Seawall, starting and finishing at Second Beach Pool. It’s a fun run, but I was taking it seriously only in that I felt like I had some unfinished business at the mile distance. I ran my first mile on the track in the spring and managed 5:52. Fast forward towards the end of summer and I set out to better that, once again on the track. I finished 5:52. I’m pretty certain that I am faster now, but I wanted to prove it, and find out how much. This course had some tight turns and a bit of a hill up and down, so slower than a track for sure, but also a lot of people who run anywhere from marginally to significantly faster than me for me to chase.

Coming Around Second Beach Pool, finish line in sight. I look surprisingly chill.
Photo: Jeanine Avelino

I got off the line okay and felt like garbage sooner than I was hoping to, then the climb from the Seawall up to Beach Ave and the turn around back towards the pool. I tried to check my watch at the halfway marker but whatever it said didn’t register. That second half is a blur. I got passed a few times until the pool when there was one just ahead who I thought I might be able to catch on the sprint to the finish. I managed to get by him and crossed the line and stopped my watch. It read 5:59.52. So that sucks. But it also read 1.69 km. The course was long. Later I checked Strava, and it said I ran a 5:41 for my fastest mile yet. I was 15th over all, and second in my age group. I am very please with all of that, but I’m also rather annoyed. I ran the fastest mile (and kilometre for that matter) in my life (so far…) but I don’t actually know what that is because the course was “a mile” and not one mile.

After party with Phil Finlayson who jogged the mile, thereby letting me have AG 2nd (and also helped take care of my free beer), and Declan White who jogged his way to first overall in both the mile and the 5 KM races.
Photo: Jeanine Avelino

But in the end it was all for fun and for a good cause. I’d set a goal to raise $614.54 for the Movember Foundation supporting men’s mental and physical health – one cent more than last year – and it wasn’t looking like I was going to make it. I was happy with the support regardless, but on Saturday morning before the run I was still a bit short. Then another donation came in, and then another, and I was closer. Then later in the afternoon Stephanie and I stopped for a coffee on our way to the Vancouver Art Gallery and two more alerts in my inbox tipped my total over to $621.45. Thanks so much to everyone who donated: Albert, Shannon, Dan, John, Kelly, Stephanie, Ryan, Sandra, Roland, Steve, Jeff and the five who wish to remain anonymous. I sincerely appreciate your support. Plus it was a lot of fun.