Smooth and Quiet

 

 

Too Smooth, Too Quiet

 

I have had to have blood drawn twice this week. They said the first time they didn't get it to the lab in time. I know better. The joke I made to Patty the tech about her being a vampire for sucking my blood out was closer to the mark than I imagined. Problem is, by the time they called me to come back in I had already hit some hooch. Not enough to impair me, but I'm sure it will show up in my vials. IF they make it to the lab.

 

It is very cold tonight, crystal clear and still. I can hear the trucks rolling on the interstate which is a few miles from here. Do the drivers even notice the exit they are roaring past? Do they ever even look and think that there are people, lifes, hopes, dreams, just a few hundred meters away from them? Do they just hammer down and stick with the white line fever? Do you? When you pass a group of houses on the I40, do you wonder about the people inside? Do you think they once rode tricycles and built model airplanes and wanted to be ballerinas?

 

You should.

 

 

It is clear, and for a SoCal boy, late of Arizona, VERY cold. The stars blaze with an intensity born of the far north, and the moon gloats as it casts mystic shadows through the woods. The smallest of animals move and sound like bears smashing through plate glass...It is only the cold that carries the sound. The trees did not have a chance for the leaves to change colors and tonight they say will be the first hard frost. Something about it tugs at a memory that eludes me, trying to either beckon or warn me.

 

 I only want of one thing right now: To cuddle up with my wife and hold her and drift off to sleep with her head on my chest and my arm around her shoulder.

 

But I ask too much.

 

In the meantime, here's a random picture of Winston Churchill:

 



Taking on Coal

 

 

Refuel

 

In strange times one may act strangely. Perhaps set a course that others deem unwise. There is more than just the physical pain...at the time the pain was the most...well, there are other types of pain.

 

It's just pain. It goes away. So my mentor taught me. This pain does not go away.

 

And me and my Dreadnaught know this.

 

Tomorrow will seal the deal on the endless bombardment. I will get a reach around from the Dr again (Without even a kiss), and we will know it is time to weigh anchor and move on. I see the Dr. and she will tell me to get more tests.  Blood, biopsy, X-rays, scratch tests, you all know the drill. And yes, they do use drills still. And they will say again, "Your body has massive intrusions, strange doohickies, stuff we have never seen. And we DO NOT KNOW WHAT IT IS."

 

 July 18th 2006 this all started. I remember the exact date, it's in the logs.

 

There are no ports open to me, certainly no safe harbor, nothing but the endless churning of the screws.

 

So, set a course... just...

 

 

In the meantime, here is a random picture of a cupcake.

 



All Oilers to Bunkers

 

 

All Oilers to Bunkers

 

 

Tomorrow is another grand trip across the waters to the hospital and government offices.

WHEEEEE!

That's ok. We usually stop at this little place in Newburg called "Cooking from Scratch" Great food, incredible staff...AND, AND, WAIT FOR IT.... You can smoke inside. Yes dear readers they actually have a SMOKING section!!!! I have to quit soon, but for now that is one of the few indulgences I still have.

 

 

So the government will want blood tests and a true diagnosis. They don't like to hear "We don't know." It doesn't fit in a convenient file.

 

 

Heard from some great people from far and wide today. And someone I miss very, very much. I now have a new thing in my bucket list: Someone I want to see at least one more time.

 

In the meantime, here is a random picture of a serial killer...

 



Ooops! I forgot.

Sorry, my mind was elswhere. Inthe meantime here is a random picture of a gallon of paint.

C-Ya in a week or so.

Becalmed, Again

 

 

Becalmed, again

 

 

Went to the Dr. The doc didn't get the sonogram report so we drove the twenty miles to get the report from the hospital where I had the procedure done.

 

 

As an aside, I could reduce the common persons health care costs if the medicine industry just discovered this whacky new thing called a telephone. Or even more amazing E-MAIL... I know, e-mail is too cutting edge right now; but someday...

 

 

The people at the Hospital were fine folks. Helpful and very fast. (That's not sarcasm, BTW...They really were fun)

 

 

So I looked at the report, sighed my way through heaps of latin and took it back to the Dr. That sonogram was most helpful. I had the Dr. completely translate it into American- English for me so I knew exactly what it said. Turns out I already knew exactly what it said:

 

"We haven't got a clue, Mr. Dreadnaught owner." They ruled out a few things, they THINK. But by golly if they don't want me to take another battery of blood tests and sonograms.

 

Oh, and of course it's spreading. But not to worry, it's just sending out it's own flotillas of Destroyers now.



Steering Gear Locked

 

 

Steering Gear is Locked

 

 

Went and saw the tech to get the Ultrasound today. Nice woman...Thank you Betty. But the next time you fondle my hooters like that you better kiss me first. AND I expect a Happy Ending.

 

 

Okay, onward.

 

As a technician Betty was not allowed to tell me her opinion on what she was seeing on the screen even though she knows much better than an MD what she was looking at.

 

But she did say some things that caught my attention:

 

"I have never taken this many pictures."

"That's nasty."

And my fave: "Wow! That looks like a spider doesn't it?"

 

I will hear in a few days what my dreadnaught has been doing in the North. Now, of course, I have to wait and see the DR to tell me what the F*&K that little ship is doing down south...

 

In the meantime here is a random picture of a football: