(The Doors reference)
As of today, I remain cancer-free. I know that does not mean I do not have cancer. It means that (a) if I have it, it is too small to detect; and (b) my ENT is so backed up that I have left rather than waiting for either of the two recent appointments set up for us and Nostril Damus.
Oh, and (:) ) I am cancer-free!
Note that I have GONE to both appointments with ENTMan, and the first time I even stayed for two hours or so before getting up and leaving. Even my wife, who HATES when I do that, had little argument with that one. Note that for the second, as someone who learns from his mistakes, I asked immediately upon filling out the paperwork how long it was going to be, and the lady at the desk checked and told me, “At least an hour.” I said, “He should know better than anyone but me that my time is valuable, as valuable as his (am I getting cocky or what?). Tell him I said ‘Hi.”
I left. Some people suggest that I am cutting off my nose to spite my face or some such odd pagan ritualistic thing (if it IS a Judeo-Christian ritual, I am not aware of it and am even more thankful that I left the church when I did). I beg to differ. Okay, I beg to argue for argument’s sake.
It IS true that the man saved my life. It IS true that I may need for him to do so again at some point, if I have not really ticked him off at this point. (My thinking is that I am making him happy by freeing up part of his day, the part, not where I would be slotted, since that is very obviously being filled by someone else, but the part where he gets to go home. That is the theory I am working with at the moment.)
It is probably true that MY surgery and prior and post stuff probably took time away from other patients for him, the surgery in particular. I concede all of that and more.
On the other hand (Dang! I could have used a Randy Travis song instead of The Doors! I made a wise choice.) he saved me so that I could spend my time wisely and fruitfully and all of that, and sitting in his office, actually, his lobby, is not fruitful, especially with my wife there. And all I mean by that is that I am not going to go forth and multiply while she is in the room. I’m just saying.
Okay. Even if she was not in the room, my chances of being fruitful, of going forth and multiplying, at least in that venue, are somewhere between zero and one percent. (There is ALWAYS that last percentage point, my friends! Fight for it! Keep it! Do not give it away!)
I left, I did, but I just had a rather complete CAT scan a month or so ago, and you can tell I am losing interest in cancer when I cannot even remember the date of my last CAT scan. No wait, I’ve never been able to remember. Ignore that last thing, please.
I DID just have a scan, and it was rather encompassing, covering even parts of my body that have not been covered before, at least to my knowledge (you know those young ladies behind the booth are going to scan your tool chest, right? Right? Is that just me? Am I the only one that thinks that? Oh, geez! I could have saved a LOT on certain ED-related medications if I had known that!)
(Think about it: five years ago, if I had written “ED-related”, you would have wondered, “Who’s Ed?”)
So I feel pretty comfortable with it at the moment. (The results, you perverts!)
And I bring that up because, well, it might be time for a hiatus, maybe even an end. I have not been a consistent blogger, anyway, but one who jumps in on occasion with some idea or another, some recording of events or another, and there never has been a lot of interest: maybe half a dozen beautiful and ultra-intelligent women, and one or two ugly guys of modest mental capability, and that is it.
I have really enjoyed doing this. It has been fun, and the responses I’ve received have always been at the very least informative and entertaining, (okay, at least entertaining), sometimes downright scholarly, and always, if I recall correctly, caring in nature.
I will miss it, and, clearly, more importantly, will miss those few who have let me know that I have not written in vain. I have been honored, truly honored, by your praise and by your presence.
It is not unreasonable to suggest that I have made very good friends among you, that I have even fallen in and out of love with a number of you from time to time. (Okay, that might be a bit extreme, especially if my wife is reading.)
(And I was just talking about the ladies, dudes, vis a vis the love thing.)
This is certainly not my best effort, and I should certainly say goodbye in better fashion, but this is what you deal with when you are dealing with non-professionals.
Know that you are loved beyond where you live and think and strive and enjoy, my friends.
Know that somewhere, some guy really cares about you. REALLY cares about you. And always will.