Mr. Garner Goes To Washington

Cancer.  No other word evokes so many emotions and consumes so many thoughts of both the one with the diagnosis and those who learn of it. On Tuesday, June 25, at 4:40pm, I learned that I have prostate cancer.  One of the questions I'm most asked: "How did you know to check?" Naturally, some wondered if I had signs or pains. There were none. Last September, I had my second physical with my new primary physician. With an age of 50, he requested a PSA (prostate-specific antigen) test be added to my blood panel. The next day, the results were in my portal. For my age, my PSA should be no higher than 4. My reading was 4.191. Since this number was out of range, the portal chart visually shouted at me that this was HIGH. Googling sent me into a spiral of thinking I might have prostate cancer which led to many thoughts of mortality. I was at work sitting in my cubicle attempting to calm myself and praying as waves of anxiety, thoughts and emotions washed in. I contacted my prima

These words have taken months to reconcile as I've wrestled with and revisited many times over. Summarizing three very long weeks of December 2023 has been quite the challenge. I was in Mississippi for what began as a hip fracture for my mother and ended in her passing. It's still rather surreal for her to be gone. The first Mother's Day without her impacted me more than what would've been her 86th birthday on January 24 or what would've been her 67th wedding anniversary on April 4. Not getting a call from her on my birthday July 1 was also a void which was filled with Dad calling in birthday wishes. My family being a thousand miles away for the last 20 years, only speaking on the phone once or twice a month, visits only being every few years due to life and expenses...it feels almost routine being disconnected from Mom. Yet, random memories and various regrets have trickled through my mind since those exhausting weeks in December. Three weeks which felt like three

On August 3, 2022, my workplace hosted a blood drive. Finally! A chance to give blood after not doing so since the start of the pandemic! Not that I was fearful but there weren't many opportunities to give and then I just wasn't that motivated to get out and get it done! As I have the freedom to mostly work from home, a meeting was scheduled on the day of the blood drive which made for a nice reason to be on campus. However, the meeting needed to be rescheduled. This led to thoughts of, "Do I go in just to give blood? I could always find another time." I self-debated for a short while but ultimately chose to go in that day.  After checking in and answering a bunch of questions, the tech took my blood pressure and paused. “Do you have high blood pressure?” The last time I had it checked was probably going in for a Covid test or something but a few years ago I was considered prehypertensive by my primary physician. “You’re 170 over…” I didn’t hear the second figure bein

On this 20th anniversary of the September 11 attacks, I'm posting below a story I wrote on the 10th anniversary. These are my reflections on that day.  Looking at the first paragraph, it's interesting how times change. No one has asked me questions of where I was or what I was doing. I'm not sure if many of us have forgotten but more likely we're so very distracted. We've navigated almost two years of a pandemic that's taken and changed so many lives. We've navigated political and cultural changes poorly and emotionally to the point of creating more divisions.  We are not the country we were the weeks and months after 9/11. The bipartisan efforts then were refreshing. The amount of American flags flying proudly and in solidarity was inspiring. Today, it seems many despise their own country and its flag. But even this is not new. While she has stumbled over the years and will continue to do so - America will always be the most amazing country in the world. It

Two years have passed since I last scribed in this blog. Much life has transpired during that time. Too much to really unpack here. Then, I was a few months into a new public sector role with the City of Baltimore and starting to pursue the dream of rebooting the paranormal broadcast TV news series I co-created with Darren Dedo called "Unexplained" as a YouTube docu-series "Unexplained Cases."  Today, I am unemployed and "Unexplained Cases" has grown but has yet to generate revenue.  In July, I was dismissed from both my part-time weekend job at Grace Community Church and my City of Baltimore job. I've never had the pleasure of being released from two jobs in a month. Technically, I was released in June from Grace and my separation date was July 3. My last day of work at Baltimore was July 23 and my separation date was September 23. Unless one has been through an extended period of unemployment, one cannot understand the emotions that are stirred. For

Being vulnerable can be so rewarding. It can also be horrifically disappointing. Stereotypically for guys, being vulnerable with thoughts and feelings is simply against a man's nature. It doesn't come naturally. Emotions are saved for when men are alone or to share only with spouses or best friends. I think of the Tom Hanks line from  A League of Their Own : "There's no crying in baseball!" Anger seems to be permitted but not fear, worry, or tears. More often I've seen people apologize for getting upset or tearing up than for showing an angry or passionate reaction.  The more reflective emotions seem to be reserved for women. It seems stereotypically more natural for women to be shedding tears or showing concern. Yet, too much or too frequent emotional displays can also bring scoffing or ridicule. It's like there's no winning when it comes to being vulnerable. This is why being vulnerable is hard and requires intentionality.  The reality is that be

We called her many names over the years. Allie-rat. Monkeyface. Georgia called her "Baby Kitty" which was funny calling an 18-year-old cat a baby. With her passing, the last piece of living Mississippi in our house was lost. Allie moved with us to Maryland from Mississippi. She and Bones flew with me on two separate return trips to Baltimore from Jackson. Maddy the Beagle rode with us in the Honda Accord. Now, all three of those furbabies have passed away. Allie was a unique kitten and the last of a litter from a momma kitty adopted by a country radio station, Miss 103, in Jackson, Mississippi. A mutual friend and DJ reached out to Kim and me, knowing we were animal lovers and hoping we could help her get the last kitten adopted. The momma wouldn't let the kitten nurse because she chewed on her nipples too hard. One family returned the kitten because the children thought she was too ugly.  Of course, we took her in. Reminding us of an alley rat - that became h