Radiation Man Part II

Back in early September I had a PET/CT scan and wrote about the whole episode. Included was reference to the follow up meeting with Dr. Oncology to review the results of the scan. Well, that meeting was Wednesday and it went as I would have expected.

Upon arriving, Nurse Sue, who is just about the most wonderful person in the world, had me step up on the scale (weight within two pounds of a year ago) then took my pulse (68 bpm) followed by blood pressure reading. I always like to guess my blood pressure and since I was five minutes late to the appointment, I figured it would be a bit high for me at maybe 132 over 86, but Sue must have a calming effect because it was 110 over 72. Not bad for a stress driven guy like me. Anyway, a great start - vitals good.

We (Mrs. Monkey Man was with me, which was most probably the real reason for the calm) were hustled off to Room number one to wait for Dr. Oncology. While there we confirmed with Nurse Sue the list of meds I take on a daily basis - a statin for cholesterol, a multi vitamin and fish oil - I am so boring.

That done, we continue waiting for Dr. Oncology. While we wait I ponder what I wrote about him and his fondness for bare breasted Brazilian women in thongs. I really should have portrayed him in a better light. So when Dr. Oncology walks in, I ask him where he would like to go on vacation any place in the world and money were no object.

His first question to me is "With kids or without." Smart man. Guess that's why he's a doctor.

"Without." I say.

To which he replies, "How long a vacation." he takes his conversations seriously.

"Two weeks," is the answer.

"My brother in law recently went to Bali and enjoyed it. Even though it takes forever to fly there. Is this an exploring vacation or a relaxing vacation." he asks.

I'm thinking, does this guy know how to relax....all these questions and it's so rhetorical. "Whatever you want," is my response.

He decides he would like to go to Australia and Bali to explore and perhaps mix in a bit of relaxation. So my apologies to Doc O for giving everyone the idea he was some kind of letch. He is apparently a loving husband and hard working father.

That cleared up we get to the point. The technicians who analyze PET/CT scans noticed one area that seemed somewhat in question but not so much that they even wanted to take another look.

Translated into my speak -No sign of any new cancer. This makes Mrs. Monkey Man very happy. Maybe tonight she will sleep.

When are words not words?

For several days now I have been saving the words from the Word Verifications sometimes required to post a comment. I was saving because I had this brilliant idea that I would give some of the more interesting of the words definitions. Oh, how original, I thought, then while reading "I won't be doing THAT again" by Greeneyed Momster I followed a comment by one of her followers to Unknown Mami and on her September 10 post titled "Fragmented Fridays" there it was - MY IDEA. It may have only been one word, but it was the same idea.

Deflated, I was on the edge of throwing away the sheet with those dozens of word verifications I had written down. Okay, it was only 31, but it represented such hard work and all those tedious hours reading and commenting on blogs in order get a decent amount of verifications, I just couldn't throw them out. So with all due respect to Unknown Mami, I proceed.

There won't be 31 definitions - I am just not that bright and creative and most of the words just sucked. But there should be enough to keep us entertained and perhaps to generate a bit of creativity on the part of my fellow bloggers. You are a very creative bunch.

Here are a few definitions for your perusal:

• Untat - Removal of unwanted ink, preferably by laser.


• Swayss - A relatively long distance from one point to the next. "It swayss from here."


• Entab - Placement of dividers between section of a written document.


• Sconing - The search for just the right breakfast biscuit.


• Fezotypt - How the logo and official ranking information is placed on a Shriners hat.


• Hydrads - Advertising at the bottom of swimming pools.


• Bloefysh - The face a fat guy makes when he puts his lips on glass and blows air.


• Boelestro - A bowl of chocolate to keep the PMS at bay (special thanks for Mrs. Monkey Man)


• Phyri - When certain redhead, to whom I am married, gets naughty.


• Mendin - The sounds coming from a bar on any given Sunday afternoon during football season.


• Subso - When you aren't even feeling so-so.


• Subpr - Public relations done poorly. Most likely from the back of a van.


• Breangl - An angel made out of cheese.


• Pitud - Description of the confidence you feel when you find out what the circumference of a circle divided by its diameter equals.


• Capsy - The unbalanced feeling one gets when wearing too many hats.


• Atesstr - A teacher too lazy to teach but constantly hands out quizzes. Or when your child pushes your buttons.


• Hotkir - The newest and most sought after white wine.


• Hopha - The rebranding of an old line union boss' family name.

So that about wraps it up. Others on the "I almost gave a definition to that" list are sking, ityrounz, ratmet, capha and rargs. But I am running out of energy and Mrs. Monkey Man deserves what energy I have left.

Just as Unknown Mami did in her blog, test yourself to write a definition. Use one of my unused, rewrite one I wrote or come up with your own new Word Verification Word. Come on in, the water's fine. It's bingis.

The Mountain

A mountain loomed before them.

At first its mere presence made them

and their task seem insignificant.

Undeterred, they stayed on task.

The kiss was passionate.

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This is a Sunday 160.
Take the Challenge if you dare.

The Need For a Fix.....in 55

That feeling was coming on again.
That
sense of
anticipation.
The longing. It
had been a long time
since my last fix and
I was shaking. Starting
to feel the intensity of
withdrawal. I knew now
that relief was only
a push away. I
pressed. The
images
flash-
ed.
Ahhhh.
With relief, football season has started.

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This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55.

If you want to know what the hell that means visit g-man. The challenge is on.

Or Try my Sunday 160.

My Coffee Loves Me

Every morning after I wake up I drag my sorry butt into the kitchen and make coffee. In my case, it's the equivalent of a quad shot of espresso. A tea cup filled to the brim.

When I've gone to the local barista and ordered a "Quad" people around me - and sometimes the baristas themselves - gawk in amazement. Then make some ridiculous comment about me being some kind of caffeine addict.

Well, truth be known, there is less caffeine in four ounces of espresso than in an 8 ounce cup of brewed coffee. (Here is the really boring, lectury part of this write up.) You see, the longer a coffee bean is roasted the less caffeine there is in the bean. An espresso bean is roasted longer than other types of bean which also makes it less acidic and bitter than your standard everyday roasted beans. For me that means no acid stomach or heart burn and I used to get both from drip coffee.

So, if like me, regular old coffee makes your esophagus feel like the burning road to hell, which is now your stomach, maybe you should switch to a couple of shots of espresso. You still get your caffeine, just in a smaller dose. You eliminate the acid and best of all - your coffee tastes the way it smells. The latter I have always felt was a bonus of drinking espresso.

But if espresso is still a bit bitter for you, add a touch of milk. Maybe brown sugar. Lavender honey. Whatever makes you happy.

I love my coffee and I want my coffee to love me back.

Sun or Moon in 160

It was 8:30 and I was confused

as I peered through the lens.

Had I shot the moon but it looked like the sun.

Or, had I shot the sun and it looked like the moon.

________________________________

This is a Sunday 160.
Take the Challenge if you dare.

55 Thanks isn't enough

Can you thank someone who has made sacrifices and
worked until they dropped?
Handled adversity and taken care of the sick,
knowing all along they needed a hand to hold
or a shoulder to cry on

when none was available.
It may not be much,

but take my hand and accept my love.
You’re deserving.

This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55.

If you want to know what the hell that means visit g-man. The challenge is on.

Or Try my Sunday 160.

Radiation Man

When you've gone through surgery to remove cancer from your body and survived the chemicals they pump into you "just in case" there might be more cancer, you might think it's all over but a few simple blood tests. But nooooo. They still want to experiment with you.

Now some of it IS just the simple blood test, mixed with the usual blood pressure and stepping on the scale - every three months. Big deal - get poked with a needle and answers questions like, "Did you lose that weight on purpose?' To which you answer, "Yes, I was tired of being a lard ass and decided to add years instead of pounds."

But I digress, once a year they also want you to have what is called a PET/CT scan. I think the worst part of getting a PET/CT is not getting to drink your morning coffee, but that's another story. The first thing they do is take you into a holding cell and have you remove any metal you might be wearing - watch, glasses, the spare change in your pocket, your belt. You almost expect them to ask you to remove your shoe laces and walk over to the finger printing area (not that I have any experience in such things). Instead, you just get to lay down on a bed with wheels.

There you are laying on a gurney and nice nurse Natasha walks in with a needle that is surrounded by a lead shield. "What's with the heavy equipment around the needle," you ask. To which Nurse Natasha says, "The protection is for me not for you. Since I have to work with this stuff several times a day I'd grow a third arm because of the extended exposure without the lead shield. But please be reassured that injecting it into you is just fine."

Great! So there they go - sugar coated, radio active isotopes injected into your veins. They then tell you to lie still for an hour while the radiation permeates every little blood vessel you have in you. What's the deal? Well, it seems cancer cells are hungry little devils and will gobble up the sugar that is injected - you see you have been fasting for 12 hours and for 24 hours couldn't eat any carbs (carbs = sugar) - and the sugar just happens to have these happy little isotopes along for the ride. So once the cancer cells have had their fill, they will show up in this scan as "hot" spots. These hot spots make Dr. Oncology very excited because he makes money from killing cancer cells. "Weeee," he says, "more cancer to kill. I can pay for my new vacation home in Brazil." Dr. Oncology loves topless girls in thongs.

Anyway, you lay there under a warm blanket bored out of your mind waiting for someone to finally come into your room and stick you in some machine that turns you into a bunch of little rainbow-like pictures. Lights low. Warm blanket. No coffee. Sleep happens. One could get used to mid morning naps, but employers frown on such things. As they would if you brought a Snuggie into work and twisted off the overhead fluorescents. Employers just don't have a clue as to how to relax. Didn't Einstein nap during the day?

After your nap a boy named Steve that looks as old as your teenage son walks in, tells you to take a last minute leak so his pictures are better. You fully expect what you release into the toilet will glow. He then wheels you into the room with the scanner. Once there, Steve tells you to lie down on this platform in front of the scanner, put your arms over your head and stay completely still for the next thirty minutes while the machine runs through its paces. Now, mind you, the scanner is barely wide enough to accommodate the width of your shoulders and has no head room. They could bury you in it.

Have you ever been told something like - Don't eat the hors d'oeurves before the guests arrive - or - Don't squirm around or you will ruin my PET/CT pictures? Eating hors d'oeurves and moving around are all you can think about after that. You lay there as this machine whirs, clicks and moves you back and forth and all you can think about is that you have itchy spots all over your body - your nose itches, your ear lobe itches, so do your nether regions. It is as if the statement of "lay still" released an army of ants all over your body.

Then there is the whole arms over the head deal. Sounds like no big thing, but you try doing anything in a stationary position for thirty minutes and you, too, will become a big pussy. I don't know how those idiots on Survivor do some of the ridiculous stunts they are asked to perform. Of course they are playing for a million dollars instead of just being a wimpy whiner who wants to get the hell out of a motorized coffin.

Suddenly out of nowhere, young Steve's head is hovering over you and he says a polite version of "Pick up your stuff out of the locker and get out of here. I have people waiting for this machine." So you fill your pockets back up, put on your belt and head out to find the nearest barista knowing the results won't be offered up until Dr. Oncology steps away from his Brazilian Beach daydream long enough to explain the pretty pictures and, with a somewhat disappointed tone, tell you the cancer is still in remission. While this meeting won't take place until September 16 you already know all you have done is spent the insurance company's money and delayed Dr. Oncology's plan for the Brazilian vacation home.

Creative Captioning

Try your hand at a caption on this photo. I was walking my dog in our neighborhood and happened on to this sign and couldn't resist it. Write your own caption in my comments and come back in a day or so. I won't post any of the caption comments until Tuesday at the earliest so you won't be swayed by anyone else's creativity....EXCEPT the caption I wrote which was sent to the lovely and talented Mrs. Monkey Man in a text pic.

Have fun and enter as often and you want.

I will also have a special prize for the winning caption.

Happy Hour must start at 3.

Smokin' Sunday 160

The cigarette hung loosely from her painted lips.

"Got a light," she cooed in a voice

that would melt the coldest of hearts.

“Smoking causes wrinkles,” he said.

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This is a Sunday 160.
Take the Challenge if you dare.