ooohhh-kayyy….. Tomorrow St. Joesph’s radiology department is supposed to puncture my boob to see if I have cancer. It’ll be the middle of next week, at best, before the result comes back; a miracle if it reaches the Mayo Clinic surgeon by the time I’m supposed to meet with him for a second opinion. I’m pretty well decided that if surgery is needed (as seems increasingly likely), I’ll have it done at the Mayo, simply because their safety level is much higher. However, if several weeks of daily radiation treatments are required, I will ask if that can be done at St. Joe’s, which at least is within driving distance. From my house, the Mayo is halfway to Payson; even if Medicare covers this entire flying circus, I still couldn’t afford the gasoline to drive out there every day for five to eight weeks.
Meanwhile, students are turning in papers today. My assistant is junketing in China, so the entire task of reading these golden words falls to me. I’ll have to read frantically, well into the night, to get through the stuff. Eight (of twenty-five) classmates have posted their papers so far. The things aren’t due until midnight, meaning the bulk of these things will have to be read when I’m in pain, scared, and definitively NOT of a disposition to spend my time on student drivel.
I’d resisted reading the radiologist’s report myself, preferring to just fork it over to Young Dr. Kildare and the beloved Old Guy at the Mayo. But yesterday I thought I’d better take a look at it.
Googled the terminology she used to describe the two lesions and discovered exactly why YDK disagreed with beloved OG@theMayo about the urgency of moving forward. Holeeeee shit! The radiologist’s alleged 50-50 chance of the things being benign (read “50% chance of malignancy”) appears to have been very optimistic. The probability that these things are cancer is higher than 50%. Possibly much higher.
Picked up paperwork to make my son a signer on my credit union accounts. This will make it possible for him to pay the bills if I’m incapacitated, whether for awhile or permanently, and it also will make it a great deal easier to access what will be his funds should I croak over. He’s already listed as a beneficiary for those and for the Fidelity IRA and brokerage accounts. Fortunately, I’ve dawdled endlessly on withdrawing the cash value from my semi-defunct whole life policy, so the insurance payout is still in force; he’ll get 40 grand from that, in the croaking-over event. So he’ll have enough to dispose of my remains and then some. Quite a bit some.
Unless he’s been reading this blog (which I doubt), he doesn’t know about the current flap. I’d prefer not to enlighten him until I know what the real story is. His dad, a notary public in addition to his corporate lawyerness, has refused to notarize the credit union documents. How the hell I’m going to persuade the kid to drive out to the credit union on Saturday to get his signature enrolled with that outfit without having to tell him what’s up escapes me.
At any rate, when (and if) that’s accomplished, all that will remain will be to figure out what to do with the dogs. I think my son will take them temporarily — for a week or two — if I have to have part or all of my boob lopped off and endless radiation or chemotherapy administered. But after that: ???? I can’t imagine he’ll want to take on two corgis, now and forever, in addition to his marginally manageable adolescent retriever.
Why the fuck do these things ALWAYS happen when things are finally going smoothly and you just start to think you’ve got a grip on your life and you’re going to be preternaturally happy for awhile?
Funny….You are an inspiration…I can assure you if I had a similiar malady and all the uncertainty I wouldn’t have the outlook you have. A few years back DW had a similiar scare and thank goodness it was not cancer. But it does make you think. Your “jaunt” over to St. Joe’s makes my recent experience with evicting tenants today seem like a walk in the park. Why is it folks think it’s OK to destroy property, leave me three truck loads of debris and a filthy fridge for me to clean up? Good Luck tommorrow….
Good lord! In one paragraph you summarize, exquisitely, why I can’t imagine going into the landlord business.
Friends of ours had a piece of property with a second house on it, which they rented out to some sh!theads. Before these clowns left, out of spite they set a bonfire in the middle of the livingroom and burned the furniture. Lovely folks. Friends had to gut out the entire house and rebuild it.
LOL! This is not my first cancer scare. I’ve become inured to them.
Truth to tell, when I was younger this kind of thing threw me into a tailspin. But now? Hey…I’m coming to the end of my allotted lifespan, and I’m OK with that. My son is grown and can take care of himself. I’ve done most of the things in life I wanted to do. Other than a couple of dogs, no one depends on me, and I’m sure accommodations can be found for them. So…what the heck? The only thing that really matters is that I’d like not to suffer the way my mother did, on the way out.
Funny….I’ve been doing this for 36 years and this is the worse I’ve seen in some time. Despite promises of the place being taken care of it couldn’t be further from the truth. Just plain abuse. Now I will itemize each and every repair….take photos…and file suit….garnish their bank accounts, wages, furniture, cars…That’s right it has become personal…. Here’s something to ponder…I evicted these folks and they claimed they had/have no money. DW and her friend picked up no less than $8 in change thru out the house…and not one but two 50 gallon garbage bags full of shoes…name brand…BUT took the knobs to the oven….WHO DOES THIS? Best wishes on your testing today…And remember when they say…”this won’t hurt a bit”…THEY LIE!!
Sounds like deliberate spite.
And how are you going to sue them and garnish their stuff if you can’t find them? They’ve probably skipped town.
LOL! Fortunately for me — since I’m allergic to aspirin, acetaminophen, and ibuprofen — I have a high pain threshold.
The damm students turned in 9 more papers after I went to bed last night. So even if it is painful, it won’t matter: I’m going to have to work half the day reading that drivel, one way or the other.
aaaannndddd…both dogs woke up with severe diarrhea!!! They can’t be left outside in this extreme heat, so I’m going to come home to a gigantic, unholy mess to clean up.
Diarrhea!!! SUPER!!! You win….I will complain no more the rest of the day…..As for te X-tenants here in the Free State it isn’t very difficult to find someone and one can get them “personally served” for around $50-$75…and then the fun begins. My approach is generally a “scorched earth” plan…which requires a bunch of court apperances and inflicting as much pain to one’s credit and credibility as I can. Once sued a ….”gentleman”/x-tenant….for $10.6K….and won in court…..and collected every cent…..No small feat… Life was good the day that Bank-Check was delivered….
Hope you blow the out of the water.
Some years ago I remember someone remarking — I forget in what context — that if you want to screw your landlord, you should steal the knobs off the appliances. Apparently they can be hard to replace. Sounds like these people were deliberately vandalizing your property.