Ultra Sound Test Results

 

It was with some trepidation that I called my urologist's office today for the results of the ultra sound test that was taken of my testicles last week. 

Every time I call a doctor's office for the results of a test I am reminded of the time my other urologist informed me that I had prostate cancer. When he matter of factly said "You have prostate cancer" as he rushed into the cubicle where I was waiting for him, that information didn't register with me. He was so matter of fact about it like "it's going to rain tomorrow."  My reaction was like Walter White of "Breaking Bad" when his doctor informed him he had terminal cancer, Walter didn't register that news either, he fixated on a mustard stain on his doctor's tie. My doctor wasn't wearing a tie, I think a bow tie. Still, that news didn't register with me immediately.

After dropping that H-Bomb on me he said "You have a range of options but at your age you'll probably die of something else. I do remember how taken aback I was by that yet another matter of fact statement, "your age?"  My first response was to look over my should thinking "You talking to me?" What? I'm THAT old?" This news was transmitted to me in 2013 when I was ONLY 72 years old.  Hey wait, actually I am THAT old.  Reality bites.

Ever since that earth shaking moment for me, I'm now prepared for bad news as a result of tests.

This time I got good news. The occasional soreness in my right testicle is a result of a strained vein, which I was told "is normal".  What was left unsaid of course was "at your age."  Hey folks, I'm wearing out but at least I don't have cancer. And for that I am very thankful.

Have a wonderful Christmas everyone!

Christmas Week 2020

 

Gore Park Hamilton Ontario Christmas Tree and Nativity Scene 2020

Here we are folks, another Christmas. The older I get it seems that Christmas rolls around much faster. Of course in this year of the Great Pandemic, Christmas is vastly different from previous Christmases. 

Bill and I aren't affected by our Christmas celebration because of the pandemic.  We stopped exchanging gifts many years ago. Neither one of us is religious but we do enjoy the bright multi-colored lights of this pagan holiday (which is actually the origin of Christmas). I also sometimes feel a sense of peace during this season but peace never happens, does it?

Of course this year the big gift is that Trump, the Criminal in the White House, traitor, incompetent who is responsible for thousands of deaths from COVID due to his catastrophic failure of leadership, will soon be gone from the office of the presidency. But not before he inflicts even more damage to our country. Now he's even seriously considering declaring martial law to overturn the election of the swing states.  Some would say this is unbelievable that a sitting president of the United States would even seriously consider such a traitorous act, but I don't put anything past the evil that Donal Trump is. What surprises and saddens me is the cowardice of the Congressional Republicans who are so cowed by a Trump tweet that they have failed in their Constitutional oath of office to protect our country from external and internal (Trump) enemies. And make no mistake about it, Trump is the greatest threat our democracy has ever faced. Let's just hope we can make it until January 20, 2021 and Trump's fat ass is dragged from the White House.

 There, I went on a Trump Rant again. Sorry folks, uh no I'm not sorry actually. I need to get that out every now and then, my therapy. 

Back to Christmas, I'm working Christmas Eve but I have off Christmas Day, which is nice. No Christmas tree here at Casa Tipton-Kelly but we have lights strung up on the sun room and our living room. I also have Christmas bubble lights, which both Bill and I love. Brings back memories of our Christmas in the 50's. 

I've cancelled another plane trip. This one was scheduled for Modernism Week in Palm Springs, California from February 9th to February 22nd. Because of the California lockdown due to a spike in COVID infections, that event is cancelled. That makes three plane trips I have credit for at American Airlines.  I'm prepared to hunker in here for the winter. 

Hopefully Bill and I will get our vaccinations soon and not have to worry about being infected with this deadly virus. I saw on the news yesterday that Marco Rubio and Lyndsay Graham already received their vaccinations yesterday.  How is THAT possible?  Those two slime balls. But I digress. 

If I don't get to post before Christmas, I want to wish all of you who read this blog and very happy Christmas!

Balls Out

 

How is that for a blog title to get your attention? 

First of all, a warning because this post is exactly what the title says. It is not about checking ballrooms. 

This morning I had an appointment for an ultra sound of my um, testicles. 

Annually I check in with my urologist because of my past history with prostate cancer (2013) and my numerous bouts with kidney stones (four operations and at least eight emergency room visits during the passing of a kidney stone.  Aren't I lucky? Most of my medical procedures seem to involve the areas below my waist. 

My first operation was for a hernia when I was seventeen years old. That one didn't turn out well because I contacted a staph infection from which I almost died. Six months in and out of the hospital and two more operations, the staph infection was finally cleared.

I've since had six colonoscopies (history of colon cancer in my family). My last colonoscopy my doctor advised me to get one every three years which I am due this year but probably won't get it because the hospitals are busy with COVID patients.

A few years ago I tore my left quadricep leg muscle and had an operation to tie that muscle back together. Remember that one? I do, I'll never forget it. That was a medical procedure below my waist that I didn't have to display my nether regions, thank goodness. A rare occasion. And oh, I have had hemorrhoids operated on, twice. Oh yes, I've had the whole panoply of medical attention below my waist. 

Now to this morning's visit. My urologist asked me during my visit Friday "Anything else bothering you?" I mentioned to him that occasionally my right testicle felt a little sore.  I've had this my whole life ever since I landed on my bicycle seat a little too fast when I was a paper boy when I was ten years old. I at first hesitated saying even telling him about it since that was sixty-nine years ago but what the heck? Might as well tell him about it.  He said "Let's have a look."  Here we go. Actually this was the first time my urologist "had a look" since the three years I've been seeing him. My previous urologist almost always had to "have a look" but this one hasn't until now. 

He checked out the area I told him there was a slight dull ache (on a pain scale of 1 to 10 this was maybe a 1 1/2 but there).  He felt something and thought it was a slight infection, although "infection" wasn't the word he used.  I can't remember the word but he prescribed an antibiotic.  That antibiotic seems to be working. The dull ache went away, but it came back. 

Then we come today. I was expecting to have an X-ray. Lay on the table, pantless and the gown on.  Oh no, this was an ULTRA-SOUND.  You know, the jelly on the "part."  I've had previous ultra sounds on my stomach. Remember how those were? Cold jelly on your warm stomach. Now today I got that cold jelly on my.....yes....testicles. Now here was a new experience.  Who applied it?  Sure, a very attractive woman. Why not?  I just hope she doesn't turn up as a future hotel guest. I was very thankful it wasn't an attractive young man.

Last week I was having a conversation with my younger brother who has been through quite a few medical procedures this past year. Some of those medical procedures involved his nether regions included inserting a stint in his penis (I've had that too).  He told me he had a problem with the very attractive young lady who performed that procedure (he got aroused).  Not me. While I wasn't comfortable with a woman or anyone handing that area of my body, I don't get aroused in those circumstances. 

This is how it went. She told me to remove my "bottom clothes". Gave me two small towels. Fold one up and put them under my testicles. Put my penis on my stomach and cover it with the other towel. Pull the sheet up to my exposed testicles. Sound like fun?  No but manageable. 

She knocked on the door. "Ready?" I was, or as ready as I would ever be. 

She came in and applied the jelly to you know where. Surprisingly the jelly wasn't cold. Then because the examination which seemed to take a LONG time but actually was probably only five minutes. And for good measure she checked out my left testicle. Why not? Might as well while down there.

Then it was over. She said "You can clean yourself up and go out by the exit."  Sort of sound sexual doesn't it? It wasn't.  I cleaned as much of that ultra-sound jelly off as possible and exited. I almost went out the wrong exit, an emergency exit to the parking lot (in the pouring rain yet, no sunny day for this procedure).  I thought perhaps this exit was because I had shamed myself with this examination. But no, she saw my near error and directed me towards the proper exit.....out the front door.

And that was MY day. How was yours?

Ring Doorbell

Yes, that's me (on the right in the top  phot with my computer guy checking out the newly installed Ring Doorbell

I gave myself an early Christmas present this week, Ring Doorbell.

Like you, I've seen the Ring Doorbell commercials where the owner of the house catches a thief stealing their Amazon package from the front porch. I was hesitant to order a Ring Doorbell when it first came out. I wouldn't know how to install in and I'm reluctant to order anything this new until they get all the kinks out. 

I decided to order Ring Doorbell last month when my computer guy was in trying to fix my latest Mac OS upgrade (Big Sur) which screwed up my Time Machine backup. During his visit he checked his Ring Doorbell because there was some motion activity. I was impressed. This is something I could use. I frequently receive Amazon deliveries.  I don't get too many other people showing up at my front door other than my neighbor Bob M. and the occasional driveway guy who has left over asphalt and is going to give me a deal (sure). I'm always reluctant to answer the door. And because Bill is hard of hearing he doesn't answer the door, thus worrying Bob (our neighbor) when I'm at work. Now I can check whose at our door wherever I am. At work, Philadelphia, Canada and yes, even Palm Springs California (if I ever get to travel again because of this COVID pandemic). 

I asked my computer guy could he install Ring Doorbell if I bought one. He said he could.  And he did.  Seeing all the work he put into it (Bill had screwed up our previous doorbell wiring) I'm glad I contracted with him to do it. 

I subscribed for five dollars a month to have a recording of all the activity at our front door. Well worth it. 

I also ordered an ECHO ("Alexa"). 

Oh, and by the way, I also got my new iPhone 12 Pro Max upgrade. That was somewhat of a bear to transfer the information from my previous iPhone but I did and I'm set now. 

Yours truly continues to stay apace with the Digital Age.

Cleaning Out Closets

 

Box of old letters

Finally, after forty years I'm going to use the rest of my cedar boards and have my two walk in closets lined.

When Bill and I built our house in Pennsylvania in 1980 one of the luxuries I insisted upon was having all the closets cedar lined. I had that written into my contract with my builder. However, when it came time to line those closets my builder tried to cut corners (as they often do) and suggested that I instead put cedar chip boards in my closets. "No way" I told him, it's in my contract that cedar boards are to be applied." My builder went into a snit for a while but eventually he put the tongue and grove cedar boards in all my closets. He had five packets of cedar boards left over. I paid for them and I kept them, stored in the space above the garage in our Pennsylvania house for the twenty-five years we lived in Pennsylvania. 

Left over cedar boards

Then in 2006 we moved to Delaware. We had another new house built by Ryan Homes. I was so immersed in selling our Pennsylvania home that I neglected to get our closets here in Delaware cedar lined. I did bring down those left over five packages of cedar boards though, planning to eventually use them to cedar line my two walk in closets here at our Delaware home, also known as Casa Tipton-Kelly.

That time has come. Thirteen years later, that time has come.

This weekend I have arranged with a local contractor to cedar line my walk in closets. Of course that's going to cause major disruption but it is something I want done before I die. I love the smell of cedar. But first I had to clean out all my "stuff" in my closet. Not a job I look forward to but one that is necessary. 

Yesterday going through some of those things I found a box of old letters I have save. Several of them are from former lovers. "Lovers", for those of you of a certain age that is what we gays used to call our partners/husband/affairs. 

I started to read one of those letters this morning. By the way, "letters", what a quaint term in this time of the Digital Age, FaceTime and text messages. 

I'm glad I've saved all my old letters.

I read part of the letter that Joe Labriola (I mention his name because maybe he's still round and will stumble across my blog and contact me), a Ice Capades ice skater I met in Pittsburgh in January of 1963. 1963, a time when many of you who are reading this blog weren't even born. Yes, that's how OLD I am. 

Joe Labriola Mexico City 1962 (on tour with the Ice Capades)

I'm going to read that whole letter and transcribe it to type text (Joe's handwriting isn't the best). Just another project I have to complete before I checkout of this life. 

Life is interesting folks and I have had one very interesting life for which I am so thankful.

Post Thanksgiving Musings

 Another Black Friday has arrived.

Me at Ft. Meade Army barracks smoking a cigarette 1962

Last night I worked my regular Thursday night shift at the hotel. Occupancy was down because of the new COVID restrictions Delaware governor Carney has imposed. Even though there were less rooms, the guests are always interesting. My job at the hotel is like working at the crossroads of the world.

One guest called from the suite, which is an apartment that rents for $525 a night plus tax. He wanted to know if I had a vacuum cleaner and could I deliver it to him.  I told him "Yes, I have a vacuum cleaner but I can't do the stairs to the suite" (which is outside and up two flights of stairs). He said "No problem, I'll come over and pick it up."  

He came over to pick up the vacuum cleaner.  I asked him where he was from and why was he visiting Lewes.  He said his son is stationed at Ft. Meade Maryland and works at the NSA (National Security Agency). Small world! I told him when I was in the Army (1960-1963) I was also stationed at Ft. Meade and worked at the National Security Agency.  He said "Oh! You have to come back to the suite with me and tell that to my son!" I did and I found out his son is in the Navy. When I was at Ft. Meade, all branches of the service were represented, our concert barracks were in a row. The Marine barracks first, then Navy followed by the Army barracks and then the Air Force. The family was from Washington State. I told them that last year their Senator Patty Murray had stayed at the hotel. His wife asked me "How did you know our senator is Patty Murray?"  I told him "I follow politics and I know all the senators."  

Senator Patty Murray -D. Washington

This brief interaction with guests of the hotel where I work is one of the reasons I continue to work even as I enter the eight decade of my life. Thanksgiving is a day of loneliness for many. That often includes me. 

For years now I don't do anything special for Thanksgiving. I would have loved to have a couple of slices of roast turkey with stuffing, candied yams, cranberry sauce, and yes green bean casserole but my Thanksgivings at this time of my life, is not to be. I used to roast a turkey years ago but Bill doesn't like turkey. I "celebrate" my Thanksgivings like I did yesterday, sharing life with hotel guests like I did last night. One year one of my co-workers felt sorry for me and brought me in a plate of roast turkey with all the fixings. That was nice. 

Pat just called on FaceTime. Have to go!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Last night I heard a cacophony of police and fire engine sirens screaming down Route One.  Route One or Coastal Highway borders our property via a small cornfield. 

One, two, three, four, five, six ............. flashing light, more sirens ......what was going on? I've heard and seen police cars speeding down Route One before in pursuit of a vehicle exceeding the speed limit. Occasionally a fire engine would race down Route One enroute to a fire, but never all this activity. What could it be?

This morning I check my NextDoor app to find out what was going on. 

Oh, okay. President-Elect Biden arriving at his summer beach house in Rehoboth Beach, which is only about five miles from Casa Tipton-Kelly. 

Yes folks, for at least the next four years Bill and I will be near the center of the universe, where the most powerful man in the world summers. Bye bye Mar-a-Lago.