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I have 3 more radiation treatments. If you have read below, you know.
42 total radiation treatments. 3 to go. What more is there to say?
The doc told me - when these are over, we will wait three months; then, we will have another PSA test. That will determine what happens next. It seems that with treatment, hurry up and wait is the catch phrase.
more later
shorty note over
m
Today - the 15th of September - my wife turns 82 years of age. When I was younger, I had no desire to live with an 82 year old female. It is interesting that one's visual perspective changes as we age. Now, I cannot imagine living with anyone younger. Soon, I will turn 82 and join the spouse. She has always lived with a younger man.
So we go to the old 82 spelled backwards is 28 concept. They had a commercial on TV with this concept last year. I can't remember the commercial or the age of the old coot. It makes turning a new age just a tad easier - albeit not a heck of a lot easier.
So take the age that you have and make the best of it. You will never get any younger unless you believe in reincarnation; but, that is a whole different ball of wax.
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Now, let's discuss Putin. I am surprised that someone has not eliminated that cretin. That might not be the right word. I don't care to look it up. Do You? And, no, for our govt who is watching my every move and comment (who says paranoia doesn't pay?) - no, I am not suggesting that anyone eliminate the guy. No, I am not going to finance this either. I am just surprised.
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Just for the record. We now have a brand new freezer. No more digging through the small freezer on the side of the frig. It is a beautiful white color. My preference. It has a little green light that shines on the garage floor indicating that we are freezing. I understand it has an alarm which rings if the door is not closed.
This month we added a Bosch 800 something new dishwasher. We love the new dishwasher. 40 dbl of noise at the most We cannot hear the machine running. It is a good thing it has (1) a red light shining on the floor indicating it is working and (2) we bought a big magnet thing which we change at times...it has four setting: Running, Clean, Dirty, & Empty. Obviously we have been much too dumb to be able to figure these settings for ourselves.
And, finally, a few months back our dryer quit. We have a new set of Washer/Dryer. Gorgeous, big, quiet, and - most importantly - it works.
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time to go out and do a birthday festival.
take care - I shall return
Mtz
P.S. Today is my 7th radiation treatment. After today, only 6 more treatments - zapping if you will.
If you are looking for an intellectual conversation, this is prolly not the place.
For example: let's take up the names of the days of the week. Right there should exemplify my title for this missive. To save time, I will will list them all now: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and, finally Sunday. I feel certain that our names somehow come from the Greeks. I don't know that. Greek or Latin roots seem to plague us. I know certain females who have dark roots - my tree has dirty roots - then, there was that TV show Roots. None are related to my conversation.
Question #1: When creating week names, did they start with Sunday or Monday? It is my belief that our answer lies in religion. Most, I say MOST, Christians celebrate Sunday as the Sabbath. There are those who really like Saturday. 7th Day Adventist have their thing. The Jewish community use to shut down on Friday night - or was it Saturday? I'd have to go back and watch Fiddler on the Roof to know for sure. Then, we have the Catholics who seem to be able to have Mass on more than one day. To me that seems the most logical. Have it when it fits your schedule. Not going to complain - any group who has to go through all that Confessing in a little booth - they have my utmost respect. I don't think I could ever do that and be completely honest all the time.
God create earth. On the 7th day he rested. So, in your mind is the 7th day when? Okay, let's say that a couple thousand years ago, I am creating the names of the week and I am Jewish. Sunday becomes the first day of the week? This is not meant to be accurate reporting on my part. Frankly it doesn't matter to me right now.
Let's say, this guy Amos said, "The first day of the week is Sunday."
Then comes Monday. Why, why, WHY was the 3rd day not named Tunday? Wenday? Thurnday? and so forth. It makes sense to me. Spelling is a whole "nother" issue. Well, of course, part of the answer is simple: Amos wasn't speaking English - or in my case, Texan. Maybe in Yiddish these names are listed poetically somehow.
I'll leave you with this. If dogs had named the weeks, they would be Barkday, Snortday, Growlday, Pantday, Ballday, Wagday, and Napday (this would have been the Sabbath), It is obvious that dogs would have had an 8th day: EAT or COOKIE day
You can make up your own cat named days, starting with: Purrday (derivative of Purrfect - albeit Sabbath).
Lunch time for me. Later Miss Gator (bugeyeday)
m3
And here we are, past the halfway mark in August. It is still too "dang" hot to do much outside. Maybe that is not true for young whippersnappers; but for this older - I want to say older dude - it just doesn't sound right to me.... for this older - oldest - whatever - "for me," it is just too hot to spend hours outside digging in the garden or mowing yards or painting a fence or you know. Our weatherman is projecting some rain later this week. I'll believe it when I see it.
Reading a certain column in the newspaper - a person asked about punctuation after a sentence. Not the period, but how many spaces follow the sentence. Her explanation: if you learned to type in a typing class on a real typewriter, you were taught to put 2 spaces after the sentence, which you might notice, I just did. It seems that newspapers have always put just one space. . . and the people on the internet adopted that process. So, as you read my diddies, you will always note the 2 spaces in my work. I feel uncomfortable putting only one. Now, friends, that is stupid. Why should spaces make a person feel uncomfy? It could be because I expect the ghost of my old high school typing teacher to fly through the window at any moment. And, frankly, I can tell you from experience, you don't want to cross that 7'9" woman. {maybe she was a bit shorter, who's asking?}
Disaster today: Anne or Annie - my daughter's beautiful, noisy basset hound just threw up her cookies right outside my office door. I turned and saw her standing over the pile with a forlorn look. Bassets have a natural forlorn look without much training. I hopped up shooing her out of the hallway. Guess what I did next. Guess.
Wrong. I looked for my wife to help me clean up the gooey mess. No luck. The spouse was in the front yard watering the flower bed. I had no choice but to "dive" in and SLOP it up. The pile sucked up an enormous number of paper towels. I hate picking up a gooey paper towel. Shivers, it gives me. Of course, I used the very last paper towel from the kitchen. Wandering into the garage, I sought more. I couldn't find them for nothing. Toilet paper, I found.
I stood by the front door watching until the watering had been completed. An explanation was made. She, the wife/spouse walked into the garage and picked up 2 rolls with no effort. I guess I'm going blind.
What makes a dog throw up like that? She is as perky and vocal as ever. If'n I had done that, I'd be in bed moanin' & groanin'.
For those why are paying attention, I have ONLY 27 more days of radiation treatment. It really is a wonder why I'm not all A-Glow.
I thought, when I began the treatments, that the waiting room would be filled with the exact same people daily. You walk in and see the same faces at the same time of the day. That has not been the case. I cannot think of one person that I have seen more than once at my appointed time. Only the technical staff - nurses - doctors and receptionists remain the same...and the receptionist do change frequently. I have absolutely NO IDEA what this is costing. I could ask. Nope. We'll just wait and see. Maybe Medicare pays for it all. Who knows?
In closing, I should mention that our new Sleep Number King Size bed 360 whatever is nice. The head lifts up and the knees can be lifted. I sleep with the head slightly elevated. They say this helps with snoring. Of course, I never snore. Never have. Never will. The bed takes up a large portion of the bed room. I believe it looks nice with its Walmart special cover and sheets. I worry about falling off this bed - it is a long ways to the floor. gonna stop.
later love,
m3
Monday - the 8th.
Not much to report. Just returned from the radiation treatment...only 33 more to experience. I don't know if I have mentioned it; but, the treatment process is the same - day after day. I arrive 15 minutes early (usually I'm there about 20 to 25). The lovely lady at the front desk asks my name and date of birth - why they do this is, not sure. Why would anyone walk in and use my name or date of birth? Maybe it is to make sure the techs don't zap my liver instead of the prostate. I'm not sure. Answer: it is part of the procedure. The front desk lady has learned my name. Now, I just have to verify the birth date.
I sits in de waiting room. Me name is called - slowly, I am educating the staff that the "E" on the end of my name is silent. It really doesn't matter. I put my cell phone in my bag and follow to "the" room. Once I have arrived, I climb up on the skinny table. You'd think, as much as this radiation machine cost, they could afford to make the table 4 inches wider. But, no.
I do have a question. They have great big doors that close when the radiator is generating. I wonder if the walls are made with the same heavy metal stuff - what about the floor - and, then, there is the ceiling. If radiation could go through a wall and zap the tech staff - couldn't it go through the roof and zap a low flying airplane - or, a bird? Just wonderin".
Once I am on the table, they throw a small cloth over my groin area. I pull down my garments to thigh level. They strap my feet together on the table and adjust me on the table. Little green lasers are everywhere. I am moved to meet their specs. I am given a 6 inch ring to hold with my hands on my chest. When nobody looks, I pull my mask down in order to breath. The rest of the story is below in one of the other blogs.
When finished, I get up and leave. They try to be upbeat and say goodbye, All over till tomorrow.
I have quit drinking carbonated beverages and using a straw. They say these are the two biggest culprits for admitting gas to my intestines. But, then, they have not seen me eat 2 big bowls of beans. Friday, this week, I plan to cook beans and cornbread for supper. ?The Instant Pot is terrific for that. Let the petroleum products flow. Not eating beans and drinking diet coke - these are lifetime changes for me. 33 more sessions and things will revert back.
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We bought a new Sleep Number bed back in early July. It is to be delivered tomorrow. Do I know the exact time of day? Of course not. They implied I would be contacted early. That didn't work. Delivery type folks do have a problem, generally speaking, in being punctual. Go ahead. Tell me I'm wrong. This will be a brand new adventure for us.
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non-local people may be unaware about our Texas weather - hot streak. It has been a miserable summer. Thank your Deity for A.C. When I lived in the Panhandle as a kid, we did not have central air. Instead we had swamp coolers. A big machine which blew air over water soaked panels. The air was cold. A window had to be open somewhere to let the airflow escape. We truly slept with a window open every night. Nobody tried to sneak in the house and steal all our jewelry. Well, we had no jewelry to start with. Those were good times. We didn't even know we were handicapped without central air. My father bought a 1957 Chevy 4 door and installed a floor air cond unit. It was the first air cond. car we ever had. Glorious. It was still unbearably hot in the car - but we had air.
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Almost time to feed the dogs. More rambling soon.
m
shortest entry yet. today is our 60th anniversary. No, I was not 60 years, a slave.
😆
AND, here it is, the last day of July. I suppose that month of July passed swiftly. I am trying to forget a bunch of it. But, July ( I like to pronounce it Hoo-lie ) has been 31 days of sameness and newness. Let me cite a few examples.
Our garden has pretty much stopped producing. Surprisingly to me, the cantaloupes keep putting forth little fruit. To start, they were regular size - now, we get little ones about 2 to 3 inches across. Yummy, they still be. Tiny, they are. My watermelons never have seemed to make it this year.
Now tomatoes and peppers have been good. Here in central Texas, I can now plant a fresh crop of tomatoes and peppers. It won't be long till they'll put on fruit. Our corn crop yielded about 5 good ears of corn. Potatoes were somewhat of a joke. I suppose Okra was the most surprising star of them all. We learned that Okra should be picked when it is about 3 + inches in length. Any longer and they become too hard to chew after cooking - yes, we fry our Okra. Who, I ask you, "Who" can eat that slimy okra stuff that shows up in soups? Certainly not me.
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Back in June - yes, back in June, we ordered a new king sized bed. It is a sleep number something model and cost way more that I should have spent. The bed is actually 2 twin sized, extra long beds tied together to give the appearance of one enormous bed. The head and the foot areas - both - can be raised and lowered. Our old sleep number, regular size, bed has been with us since before the beginning of time. My side has begun to lose air daily. I realize Sleep Number people would make it work; but, I really felt that we need this (what I call) medical type bed as we lunge into our older age. I can visualize one or both of us being bed ridden for certain periods of time. This should make it easier.
Oh, forgot the point of this entry. The bed will be delivered on August 9th. I roll my eyes.
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Son Roger and wife Penney plus Grand-girls came through on Hoo-lie 23rd or there-a-bouts. Our Dot Christine joined them as they went to San Antonio for the DCI competition. DCI stands for drum corps international. It is a drum and bugle competition. They dropped off their 4 dachshunds for us to dog sit. We had a fairly good time with the dogs; I'm not sure our Sadie appreciated the company. A good time in San Antone was had by all and the Blue Devils won.
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Let's move on to the gross medical things. In addition to our wellness visit (where our doctor says "hmmm") plus my wife's 3 visits to the dentist {had to go back the 3rd time because their air compressor died 2 hours before we arrived } - my radiation treatments began this month. I didn't think they were ever going to get here. I write this because there might be someone out there who'll have to do this in the future. I will have 42 sessions of radiation. They are are aiming at my prostate, I believe. I have this philosophy: don't ask questions - just do what I am told. My doctors seem confident and skilled.
/////an aside: my cancer doctor (Jhavar) was raised in India. He had a vacation and flew back to India for the time. It took 38 hours to fly - each direction. I believe I have that number right. He said it was tiring and thanked me for asking about the trip. I like this doctor. /////
So for my first session, I had a short visit with my doctor (Jhavar) prior to the zapping. I had just given blood on a different floor of the facility to be used in a heredity study being done by someone to see if I have a certain bad gene that caused this. We'll see. I was sitting in doc's office with my diet coke bottle on the floor. He pointed at it and explained that I wanted to give them up until treatments end.
Before I continue this forward, an apology to my ex-students and others who might know me. I am going to produce an image which some may not want me to share. Imagine some of your past teachers lying naked on a metal table. It is somewhat revolting.
Now - get this - it seems that I have to have a bowel movement prior to the zapping. The doc has prescribed Milk of Magnesia for me to facilitate this occurrence. That, I assume, is to make the bowels empty for zapping. At the same time, I am to come with a full bladder. To me, these are contradictory. But, if there is a gas bubble inside me, this is wrong. Before zapping, they must roll me over and insert a tube (guess where) to let out the gas. Tube goes in - Gas comes out. You can hear the whooshing noise. Cokes seem to be the biggest contributor to gas. Who knew?
I am called into the room. They make me put on scrub bottoms. My regular pants have zippers and buttons and belt buckles and a knife and a cell phone and ... I am escorted to a long metal table. Lie down. My feet are strapped to a block; a longer block is placed under my knees; I am given a 6 " plastic hoop to hold on my chest; under a small / tiny blanket, I pull down my pants to the thigh; and, I am left alone - just me, a metal bed, and this enormous white machine. I left off the part where they slide me back and forth and up and down until the green laser light is properly adjusted to my new tattoo.
They start. The bed slides under the machine. The machine begins to rotate around me. I believe there are 4 different arms on the machine - each different. As warned, the machine rotates one way then the other then back and then back again. Then, nothing. Then, I lay in silence. [ This paragraph has way too many "thens" ] A voice speaks into my left ear. "The doctor is always right." I rolled my head his way and said, "Really?" It was Jhavar. Out came a tube - I laid on my left side and a procedure began. Hisssssss
Back on my back (cute expression). The machine rotated again and again. Now silence. Apparently the first rotations are to see if my innards are prepared properly for the zapping. They were. The radiating began...I felt nothing. With eyes closed and horrible rock and country music playing through the P.A., I was zapped.
Wed. Session #42 was over; only 41 more sessions to attend. My other doctor (El Tayeb) was the one who used a device and removed parts of my Prostate 3 months ago. He told me that 90% of the prostate had been removed. You know how that 90% left my body. It left through the other portal - like that word. This means they are zapping only 10% of my prostate. I suppose. What do I know. I have a degree in music education.
Thurs. Session #41 the next day was a replay of #42. This Session's numbering system has nothing to do with our President's number in office. Coincidental, that's all. In #41, I had the same gas problem. The doctor was not there this time. The technicians performed the dirty deed. Interestingly, as I rolled over and listened to them talk, I figured out that one tech was a newby. The other tech showed "her" how to insert the tube, etc. I am close to losing all of my modesty.
Fri. Session #40 was different. I bought a pair of shorts with no zipper - no changing into scrubs. The night before, I swallowed a gallon of milk of magnesia - making me get out of bed at 3:30 a.m. for a quick trip. In the morning, I swigged half as much around 8:30. I took a Gas-X Extreme pill after lunch. I moved lunch back one hour closer to zap time. I had no problem. The FEMALE nurse said, "whatever you did this time, continue doing it."
I won't drink carbonated drinks again until this is over in September. I won't eat beans or sauerkraut or ?? again until September. I no longer have milk with my breakfast (milk is another trouble maker).
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For the rest of the month. I see a doctor in about a week to get shots in both knees. I get another "anti-hormone" shot in about 2 weeks. My eye doctor appt. is coming up. The new bed is coming soon. And =
let's make that a big A N D ....
My wife and I will be having our 60th anniversary on the 5th. I need to plan a festival for that. It would be nice to be able to see our 70th together.
over and out,
love you (sure),
send money,
mtz
