Sunday, July 31, 2022

June - that was the month that was

 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.


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.


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.


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).  


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,