• Should I try to pretend I’m a better person?

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    This is supposedly a time of national healing, a time when better people shoot for a peaceful, amicable transfer of power between administrations.

    I could pretend I’m one of those people… gracious in victory.

    It doesn’t sound like any fun at all.

    Be true to yourself.

  • Mind your metabolism

    This post has been a while coming. I’ve been freaky tired, but fear not dear readers. Knowing is half the battle and good humor is two thirds, so I’m running a surplus.

    Get a load of my visit with the doctor last week. She tells me she wants to go over the good stuff from my labs first. The word ‘first’ was my cue to stop paying attention until she said ‘second.’ The second part was the list of stuff we expected to be off after the chemo last year, and that was my cue to start holding my breath.

    Then she went over the results related to metabolism. After presenting the numbers (contrasted with what’s considered normal), followed by a masterful execution of the pregnant pause (something I’m convinced they teach in residency), she asked: “does anyone in your family have diabetes?”

    I have this thing I do when I’m surprised. Many of you have seen it, either from me or others trained in the emotive arts: the diameter of my eyes double. (No, I’m not blessed with supernatural powers that change my body shape. My eyeballs and occipital cavities remain unchanged. I just make a whole lot more of them visible with my excellent facial muscle coordination.) Sensing that I was mixing surprise with alarm (something I don’t recommend by the way), she added something to the effect of “… you don’t yet, but you’re just short of the line where we’d start to talk about doing more tests.”

    My body might not always be healthy, but I think my reaction was. I went home and threw a fifth of the food we had in the trash (including all the leftover Halloween candy). What can I say? I’m weak. My best coping mechanism is removing temptation.

    Then there was yesterday. I had another visit with my doctor to go over my sleep study results, which again presented me with good and bad. The good part was that I don’t have sleep apnea. Woo hoo! No funny masks forcing air up my nose in my immediate future! The bad part was I’m still having an average of “40 arousals” per hour.

    My first instinct was to blush. My second was to wonder, “is that even physically possible?” My third was to realize, “she doesn’t mean THAT kind of arousal.”

    Many people have something called restless leg syndrome. As it turns out my version of the syndrome is more of a full-body experience, not unlike a small seizure… 40 times an hour. It’s just one more reason why Cheryl really loves me.

    But I’m in luck. There are several medications used to treat RLS. Too bad they tend to counteract one of my other medications.

    This is my life.

  • Your mouth doesn’t get mulligans

    In between hearings the Judge said he worried about the future of our country (referring to the election), adding, “I don’t know how long the top thirty percent can continue to support the other seventy.”

    I replied (with a mischievous smile), “well speaking for the seventy percent: we thank you.”

    That didn’t earn me any points. And because I seem to like really deep holes, I kept talking.

    “What scares me is the health care system. Say I decide to change jobs and my new job has benefits just as good as this one, but the health plan has a one year exclusion on pre-existing conditions (like my current job – which has pretty good benefits). What happens if my leukemia comes back during that year? I’d be ruined.”

    “I don’t mean to sound like I don’t care John, but you’re not entitled to health care.”

    “Why not? And either way, what difference does it make? Does the constitution guarantee public education or public roads?”

    “You’re not entitled to roads to drive on either….”

    “Yeah, but as a society we’ve decided those things we want to pay for….”

    I was all set to launch into a whole spiel on tax policy, but I got a message the next group was ready for their hearing and the day moved on. It’s a good thing the Judge is someone I consider a friend. I’m a shy guy who usually doesn’t have much to say in social settings, so why do I feel compelled to speak up every time politics comes up – no matter how much trouble it could get me in?

    The short answer is: I’m not as smart as my kids think I am.