(your patience will now be rewarded with a new installment of 'Under the Gun'. next time do us both a favor and let me know that you were actually curious about what's next. I don't want to have to hear it second hand. let your thoughts be known, drop me a comment now and then. and don't forget.....dream big, act swiftly - b2)
UTG VI: Sorry, gotta' go....My hair is on FIRE!!!
"Lymph node? What the hell is a lymph node?!! And why do you want to cut one out of my skull?"
Six weeks ago; before the bone sample was drilled out of my leg, before my rendition of Admiral Woodward on the exam room floor, and before my forehead ached like cracked Quickrete; I was being faced with 'elective' surgery. I could opt to find the cause of my ails (and / or chalk another one off the list) or choose to bury my head in the almighty sand of denial.
"Mr. B., it really is a routine biopsy..." there it is again, ROUTINE!
"When you say 'routine',...what kind of 'routine' do you mean exactly?" I had quickly, rudely, interrupted the nurse practitioner who really was doing her best to provide me what I needed in order to make an informed decision. And here I was making big quotation symbols with my raised hands and fingers every time I said 'routine'.
"Is it a dance 'routine'? Is it a comedy 'routine?!! Is it a freaking exercise 'ROUTINE'?!!"
"Perhaps you should take some time to think about your options".
Oh,...she says you have options. How wonderful. How adventurous. Yeah!! Options!!
I spent that night learning everything the Internet had to offer on Lymph Nodes:
Now, as a lump begins to push my eyebrow into full view of my red veined eyeball, I sit and wait for Doc Mengele to deliver my fate. I could hardly believe hearing myself repeatedly refuse perfectly good pain medication.
No, not this time. I wanted answers. And I wanted to be perfectly coherent, bulging brow or not, to hear the sentence laid out for me.
So I sit, biding my time. Biting my tongue. Pushing the internal battle, the voice, deeper into my midsection. Swallowing the last scraps of my chewed up pride.
Patience isn't really my thing either. That's why I've been lifting weights 4 times a day. It's the motivation behind my latest change in eating lifestyle (call it what ever you want, it's still a diet). It serves as the basis for the 8-10 self improvement books I tear through each week, reading until my book light flickers and I finally doze off for 2, maybe 3 hours. It's been like this for over three years now. And the real crazy thing is, I feel like I'm just getting started.
It's like someone finally shot the starting gun, or I just got around to hearing it. Something changed deep inside me and I'm not sure that it's necessarily a good thing or not. But what I do know it has inched it's way into every facet of my life. Relationships can't mature fast enough. Which is why I usually come across either charming or harsh, depending on the demeanor of the recipient in my latest bull in a social china shop attempt of introducing myself.
Case in point, here is a conversation I had just the other day. Seemed like run of the mill daily minutia at the time. But once I had the chance to think about it later that night as I laid in bed second guessing every decision that I had made during the previous 72 hours (I had finished my 8th and 9th book on Thursday morning and had gotten so hung up on trying to scrub the rust off an old turnbuckle I found during my daily 5 mile hike that I didn't even look at the clock 'til forty five minutes after the library had closed). The veterinarian's office had called to confirm my dog's appointment for the next day:
"Hello, this is Margaret from East Side Animal Clinic. Is this the home of Keaton and Buster?"
"Yes it is, but they can't come to the phone right now."
The long pause followed by a polite giggle made it obvious that my lame attempt at charm had at least brought a smile to her face.
"...I'm sorry, you caught me off guard a little. That was pretty funny".
And, I could have left it at that, confirmed the appointment and let this lady go about her day and continue on full-filling her post-retirement / second career aspirations in professional animal care.
But NOOOOOO! I had to take it a little farther.
"Do you have pets?"
"Well,...yes. I have a poodle."
"Where do you take them for shots?".
"I actually don't believe in vaccinations."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I mean, I'm sorry that I asked.....but since I did. Do you not believe in them for people as well?"
I relived that twisted excuse for a conversation at least 25 times before reverting back to my old stand bye lament involving an odometer reading in 1992.
And I'm not just anxious over new relationships. Like any parent I want my boys to be smarter than me. But I want it yesterday. Literally. So I insist on a daily regime of trying to force feed them information that I am not an authority on.
Then there's my siblings. I regularly put them through their own personal obstacle course of emotional landmines and guilt traps. Oh, but I have justifications for my intentions. I can justify with the best of 'em. I just want to strengthen our bond. And I want it RIGHT NOW!
I can't be bothered with details like experiences and all that live in the now, smell the roses mumbo jumbo. Don't get me wrong (so help you), I am an optimist. To some pretty sick degrees in fact. But when it comes to time....when it comes to the finality of it all..........when it comes to getting it all done....in time........
"NURSE!! Excuse me, NURSE. Yes, I've changed my mind about those pain killers. And can I get another blanket. Thank you."
"Say, do you have any pets?"
(stay tuned for the next installment of the serial anthology known as 'Under the Gun'. to ensure you don't miss a rant make sure you join my blog. to make sure I don't miss a beat be sure and leave your comments. to read more or to further explore your threshold for pain go to http://fairtoomiddling.blogspot.com Thanks for reading - b2)
UTG VI: Sorry, gotta' go....My hair is on FIRE!!!
"Lymph node? What the hell is a lymph node?!! And why do you want to cut one out of my skull?"
Six weeks ago; before the bone sample was drilled out of my leg, before my rendition of Admiral Woodward on the exam room floor, and before my forehead ached like cracked Quickrete; I was being faced with 'elective' surgery. I could opt to find the cause of my ails (and / or chalk another one off the list) or choose to bury my head in the almighty sand of denial.
"Mr. B., it really is a routine biopsy..." there it is again, ROUTINE!
"When you say 'routine',...what kind of 'routine' do you mean exactly?" I had quickly, rudely, interrupted the nurse practitioner who really was doing her best to provide me what I needed in order to make an informed decision. And here I was making big quotation symbols with my raised hands and fingers every time I said 'routine'.
"Is it a dance 'routine'? Is it a comedy 'routine?!! Is it a freaking exercise 'ROUTINE'?!!"
"Perhaps you should take some time to think about your options".
Oh,...she says you have options. How wonderful. How adventurous. Yeah!! Options!!
I spent that night learning everything the Internet had to offer on Lymph Nodes:
- "Lymph nodes are football shaped organs that play an integral role in the humane immune system...." - Sick-i-Pedia
- "....the biopsy of a lymph node is utilized to analyze the immune system or to identify diseases, such as cancer." - WebQuack.Net
- "Swollen or pain full lymph nodes are generally a sign of government involvement in the local water supply....." - isweartheyreouttogetus.org
Now, as a lump begins to push my eyebrow into full view of my red veined eyeball, I sit and wait for Doc Mengele to deliver my fate. I could hardly believe hearing myself repeatedly refuse perfectly good pain medication.
No, not this time. I wanted answers. And I wanted to be perfectly coherent, bulging brow or not, to hear the sentence laid out for me.
So I sit, biding my time. Biting my tongue. Pushing the internal battle, the voice, deeper into my midsection. Swallowing the last scraps of my chewed up pride.
Patience isn't really my thing either. That's why I've been lifting weights 4 times a day. It's the motivation behind my latest change in eating lifestyle (call it what ever you want, it's still a diet). It serves as the basis for the 8-10 self improvement books I tear through each week, reading until my book light flickers and I finally doze off for 2, maybe 3 hours. It's been like this for over three years now. And the real crazy thing is, I feel like I'm just getting started.
It's like someone finally shot the starting gun, or I just got around to hearing it. Something changed deep inside me and I'm not sure that it's necessarily a good thing or not. But what I do know it has inched it's way into every facet of my life. Relationships can't mature fast enough. Which is why I usually come across either charming or harsh, depending on the demeanor of the recipient in my latest bull in a social china shop attempt of introducing myself.
Case in point, here is a conversation I had just the other day. Seemed like run of the mill daily minutia at the time. But once I had the chance to think about it later that night as I laid in bed second guessing every decision that I had made during the previous 72 hours (I had finished my 8th and 9th book on Thursday morning and had gotten so hung up on trying to scrub the rust off an old turnbuckle I found during my daily 5 mile hike that I didn't even look at the clock 'til forty five minutes after the library had closed). The veterinarian's office had called to confirm my dog's appointment for the next day:
"Hello, this is Margaret from East Side Animal Clinic. Is this the home of Keaton and Buster?"
"Yes it is, but they can't come to the phone right now."
The long pause followed by a polite giggle made it obvious that my lame attempt at charm had at least brought a smile to her face.
"...I'm sorry, you caught me off guard a little. That was pretty funny".
And, I could have left it at that, confirmed the appointment and let this lady go about her day and continue on full-filling her post-retirement / second career aspirations in professional animal care.
But NOOOOOO! I had to take it a little farther.
"Do you have pets?"
"Well,...yes. I have a poodle."
"Where do you take them for shots?".
"I actually don't believe in vaccinations."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I mean, I'm sorry that I asked.....but since I did. Do you not believe in them for people as well?"
I relived that twisted excuse for a conversation at least 25 times before reverting back to my old stand bye lament involving an odometer reading in 1992.
And I'm not just anxious over new relationships. Like any parent I want my boys to be smarter than me. But I want it yesterday. Literally. So I insist on a daily regime of trying to force feed them information that I am not an authority on.
Then there's my siblings. I regularly put them through their own personal obstacle course of emotional landmines and guilt traps. Oh, but I have justifications for my intentions. I can justify with the best of 'em. I just want to strengthen our bond. And I want it RIGHT NOW!
I can't be bothered with details like experiences and all that live in the now, smell the roses mumbo jumbo. Don't get me wrong (so help you), I am an optimist. To some pretty sick degrees in fact. But when it comes to time....when it comes to the finality of it all..........when it comes to getting it all done....in time........
"NURSE!! Excuse me, NURSE. Yes, I've changed my mind about those pain killers. And can I get another blanket. Thank you."
"Say, do you have any pets?"
(stay tuned for the next installment of the serial anthology known as 'Under the Gun'. to ensure you don't miss a rant make sure you join my blog. to make sure I don't miss a beat be sure and leave your comments. to read more or to further explore your threshold for pain go to http://fairtoomiddling.blogspot.com Thanks for reading - b2)
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