LLS volnteerng

Good morning all:

Well I’m in a good place today (but I have to leave it go to work). Heh, har, har, har.  I kill me

My hard-boiled eggs are boiling and I got up a bit later than usual, so I’m a bit behind the power curve. Regardless I have quite a bit to report.

I met yesterday with the local Leukemia and Lymphoma Society lady; we had lunch at Panera. We chatted for a while and I’m gonna do some volunteer work with them and help them with some planning and mentoring new cancer patients. I hope it helps them and me. Anyway, my first big shindig is May 22^nd at 1800.  I guess it’s a board meeting.

That’s it for today.

See ya,

Bill

your highness -- please bow

Ever bitch about something and have it blow up in your face?

Well the past week or so I have been in a running self delusional ego battle and staked out this territory that I am the all knowing, all seeing, king of press releases and no one could possibly improve on the holy writ flowing from my fingertips. Yes every word I typed was to be cherished and reread with bowed head and reverential quietude.

Well after staking out this high ground, you know what I did? I put together a masterful press release referring to the Affordable Care Ac … not the Act, but the Ac.

Crow tastes good.  

Cupcake caper

Running a  tad behind this morning so this’ll have to be quick – ah hell with it – I can be a little late.

Yesterday I’m up in my office early for a change and this email pops up and it says, “I have cupcakes to celebrate your recovery.” I figure it must be spam, but who would be so evil to entice someone with fake cupcakes? No one I says to myself.

I hotfoot it down the stairs to the Unemployment Insurance office where hey think great thoughts and calculate things I guess, while all the time file things in long rows of folder that would make doctors offices envious. There are secret that would make Indiana Jones blush stored in one of those rooms.

Anyway I get there and this wonderful woman with short blonde hair is there with a plate of multi-colored cupcakes spelling out chemo – 13. I’m not sure if it was beauty of the gesture or the wonder of the cupcakes., but I snatched on (or was two) and ran upstairs to my office and cried a bit. I’m such a schlep.

I actually went back for seconds.

Love to all,

Bill

A new week of opportunities

Good morning homeys:

Another big week is upon us and as always there is lots of whining ahead, but I’m gonna hold off a bit for that although my upset stomach yesterday was epic.

I am an old hippy. Saturday I volunteered at the Corbit-Calloway Library in Odessa for its annual yard sale and fundraiser. I sold hot dogs, pop, pretzels, and other foods. I wandered the tables and came across a treasure trove of old vinyl records and bought a couple of Tull albums, Frank Zappa (may he rest in peace), Traffic, and drum roll please … a perfect copy of Rolling Stones, Hot Rocks—that’s the hippie part.

I have a big week – like I said. I have to put the finishing touches on a bunch of stuff before our Department’s Employer Conference Next week. It should be pretty good.

Wednesday afternoon I am having lunch with the Leukemia and Lymphoma society folks to help them with my unusual skill set (what ever the hell that is). Tuesday I get to go to another meeting where they’ll have food. A small slice of heaven. As always I have schedule conflicts so I’ll do what I have to. Friday night I go to the American Cancer Society Relay for life and do the special survivors lap and wave at my adoring fans.

I wonder if it is too tacky to make up some book flyers and pass them out while I’m there. Hmmm.

Well gotta go

Bill

sugar coating

Not too much time today. I’m on the run, but I wanted to capture another anecdote for our Bill’s Stupid Quips Library.

So there I was the morning sun streaming through the window of the picturesque view of the industrial roof of Christiana Care. I was a chemo rookie asking lots of questions. Not quite sure what was what. In a sense I was shopping for answers I wanted and not necessarily over concerned with the truth.

In walked this nurse. Young and physically stunning in her own unkempt kind of way. She was one of those girls who didn’t really know she was beautiful, or if she did, thought it more as a hindrance, than a blessing.

So there I am. I forget what malady I was complaining about – there was no shortage. I remember she listened patiently and said, “Well I’m not gonna sugar coat this for you.

I said, “Can you go find someone who will.” 

possessed dog

Pets can be steadfast friends, cuddly smoogies, or death wielding body bodyguards. We are allowed to live with a 12-pound Yorkshire Terrier at the home we pay a monthly mortgage on for her convenience and with her approval.

She has earned her keep to some extent by saving us, more than once, from stupid household accidents. If something isn’t right she’ll stand in front of it and barks ‘till we take notice. Like the time we left a pot on the stove and Coco (Satan’s name in Yorkie embodiment), threw a fit at the stove. Or like when she attacks the vacuum cleaner because we shouldn’t be using it anyway.

When I was sick she somehow knew instinctively there was something wrong and I needed extra attention. Perhaps it is some deep maternal thing, or maybe it was all the tubes coming out of my chest, or the daily injections that tipped her off.

Anyway Coco set up house next to me in the bed. Guarding me from the other dogs and surprisingly from my wife Kate. Coco chased the dogs away or would try to lure them outside away from me. It’s all quite complicated, but it had to do with her pretending there was something in the backyard, barking at it and when the two other dogs ran out in the backyard she’d tear into the bedroom with breakneck speed and dive under the blankets achieving the primary snuggling position.

One day she was particularly possessive (and apparently possessed) and she did this dance and with the dogs and dove under the sheets. Kate walks into the room to say goodbye for work or something and the dog flew out of from the sheets and launched herself, teeth bared, presumably at the neck of my wife. It was crazy.

I was on the far side of queen-size bed and the dog jumped from there, going up, and up and up across the bed and headed for Kate, never beginning the downward arc of her lunge. For a few second Coco defied gravity. She didn’t seemingly defy gravity – she did!

Kate always fleet of hands, snatched the dog out its upward flight, flipped it over and slammed it on the bed on its back. Then the dog started snarling and growling and hissing so crazily that Regan MacNeil from the Exorcist would’ve applauded.

The possessed dog finally escaped and dove under the sheets, clung to me and growled.

It was crazy. 

toenail end

Getting a late start today guys and sneaking this note in before I do any work. Okay the end of yesterday’s story – After my oncologist said, “You need to see a doctor” (see yesterday’s post), I went home got some Epsom salts, a toenail clipper and a walnut pick. You know – that thing everyone pulls out of the closet on holidays and says, “What the hell is this?” that comes with the nutcracker.

So I soaked my foot for a while in steam Epsom salt water, pulled it out and contorted myself in such a grotesques shape a Swami along the Ganges would have been envious – that is of course if Hindu Swamis knew envy, but that’s another topic for another day.

So there I am, contorted with a softened up toenail waiting to be clipped. I take the walnut pick (a known surgically clean item I pulled out of the dusty closet), jam it under the quick of my toenail, and pry the small lethal dagger of toenail out into the open. Although there is little blood, there are a lot of tears from the jamming, prying, and contorting. Finally I get the pick into a position where I can hold it with one hand and clip with the other.

Sweet relief. Oh my, my, my.

Don’t tell Kate; she used the Walnut pick last thanksgiving.