I’m your Huckleberry…

Star Date 13092016

(reference to Tombstone). When I think of doctors, this is the “doc” I think of. Yes, I know he wasn’t a real doctor, he was a dentist. Yes, Charlie and I both like our teeth, as they masticate …I said masticate…my foods…yes…I pluralized food…because I can.

As tired as I was last night, Charlie was awake. For the last couple nights, I have struggled to find a position in which Charlie can be at his most comfortable to allow slumber, bastard that he is. I went so far as to partially open migraine medicine as it is in one of those blister packs that you bend back just a corner…something that is torture and inhumane when one actually has a migraine. Alas, all for not. What was I thinking during my awake time? First, I should start by saying I do not oft lay awake, and when I do, it is never for extended periods. Last night was a solid hour or more. I was laying there thinking about my flip-top head:

Some may remember the above as being from a Reach Toothbrush commercial. All should remember it from that. If you remember it from something else…well…you’re just incorrect. In the stead of that picture, my head saw this:

Yep…the scalping from Dances With Wolves. My mind also going to thoughts of Frankenstein and so on and so forth. Even these would not normally keep me awake. Am I so vain that I suddenly care about a tiny 6″ scar running up the side of my gourd? Yes. And no. I am, by no means, a young and radiant beauty. I am an tiring, old man…as proven by recent events (birth of a granddaughter). So the scar shouldn’t matter. So why does it? Here’s the thing. A, my brain box is pretty symmetrical…currently. I suspect it soon will not be. Two, I am concerned with how soon I will be able to cut my hair… to my version of ‘normal’…post-surgery. C, what about ingrown hairs in the area of the scar? Eww. So, there I lay. Awake. All of this got me thinking in a positive direction: Yu…not you…but Yu, my doctor/surgeon said I would be up walking and eating on the same day. I should be able to fall asleep now with that sort of knowledge. Alas, no. Now I am thinking about McDonalds. My first, post-surgical meal. Double cheeseburger with extra cheese, and a large fry. I would say medium, but I know Jess. The few times I have asked for this particular set of healing foods, half the fries are gone by the time they reach me. So maybe two large fries. Mmmmm. Here’s the thing. Then I start thinking about stuff I’ve been sent or have received from folks or worse, stuff people read on the interwebs. …BTW, I am a French, male model…If it’s on the internet, it must be true:

I have been informed that I am not a model at all. Norm is questioning whether I am even a male. Well-played, Bobby DeNiro…well-played. I have been informed that people…of which and or whom, I am not, with my “condition,” have difficulty chewing and or swallowing (teehee), post this type of surgery. See…teeth, mastication, food…tying it all together. Here’s a little known fact (ref Cliff Clavin of Cheers). I am not opposed to inserting said double cheeseburger into my large orifice…in one bite. I have done so before. I am thinking Band-aid style…You know, rip off in one fell swoop. Burger in…big chews and swallow. Done. Of course, taking my time with the precious golden fries. Duh. Gone are the days of yore. Sunday evening, after church…of course, that was our family meal out. McDonalds. At the time, I was a lean version of:

Estrada o nada. Okay, so I was a little younger…and didn’t have the abs…even then. However, I did have the hair:

That’s more like it. …and I was darker…Undoubtedly from all the outside day play that was forced on us…drinking from the hose and such…before the days of the anti-siphon valve. If neighborhood dogs could drink outside, hose water…so could we. Hmmm. Could be the cause of Charlie. Or it could be the power lines…or paint chips:

(ref Tommy Boy). Where were we? Ah yes…Sunday eve meal, post-church. McDonalds. My meal usually consisted of four cheeseburgers, two large fries, and a diet coke. What? Yes, I liked diet coke, even then. No salad. Why bother? I miss those days…only in the sense of eating whatever I wanted, knowing it wouldn’t go straight to my saddlebags. I was young…and toight like a tiger.

(reference Gold Member – Austin Powers)

All this has me hungry. No time. Off to see the doctor. Maybe I’ll surprise him and be buck nekked when he walks in to the room. BTW…not Larry…turns out doc’s name is Harry. All kinds of fun with that. New patient visit, my arse. We gotta start this thing off on the right tumour.

Fast forward. I was not accosted as I passed the butterfly folks, today…post registration processes, of course. The only reason to note this is due to the addition of those being supported by donations: grieving children. Unbelievable. Well played WWP. You tear-jerking MF’ers. Great sales strategery. If only I had been able to pass that crunchy butt nugget on to them, yesterday.

Something to ponder based on a conversation the elderly couple next to me just had…whom I affectionately refer to as Abraham and Sarah…yes…Biblical. The use of Sarah v. Sarai is due to the fact that this woman has clearly birthed babies. She does not just have a wide spread, she has referred to grandkids, whilst checking in. A subject that matters to no one at any level or time during the check in process.

Sarah – (sitting down) moans…potentially farts as well

Abe – also sitting and moaning.

One of these two crop dusted, I just don’t know which to point the finger at (ending with a preposition).

Sarah – that is a beautiful TV

Abe – where?

TV is mounted on wall not 5′ from this relic.

Sarah – right there on the wall.

Abe – oh. That is a nice set.

I have to see where his eyes are when he says “set,” as he is a man. Though he missed the proverbial elephant in the room (slower folks may recall this being the flat screen on the wall), there is an elderly female to my right and she may have a nice “set” …for a man of Abe’s advanced and yet declining years. My pondering point? Is modern TV, as in the physical box, still a set? Or, as I suspect, is Abe so antiquated that he is referring to the big box television with cathodes, diodes, and external antennae? Just curious…regular, not bi.

Fast forward. I am brought back and asked as to the purpose of my visit. Mind you, the nurse is looking at a computer screen with all my info on it. From where I sit, the screen is slightly askew but I can clearly read all my info. Reason for visit is the second line down. So…as I am an a**hole, I sit silent, as if I did not hear.

Charlie v. ATOI

nurse – Oh…I see here this is for a new office visit.

me – new to me, yes. I suspect it has been well used by Dr. Myers in the past year.

nurse – huh?

me – (crickets)

nurse – Oh, I also see you need some stitches removed.

Sidebar. Anyone familiar with Jeff Foxworthy? Particularly his “Here’s your sign.” …wait for it.

me – (silence, as I am certain she needs a degree in nursing to be a nurse).

nurse – Did you have surgery recently?

me – um…(I want to laugh out loud whilst simultaneously putting my Ben finger in her mouth…the stitches kinda tickle so this makes the mean seem almost nice…doesn’t it?) …yes. I did. Right here. (showing finger. One nutting, not two….pic will explain):

left pic is a one nutter. Upper right is the double. Lower right is just a close up of Ben.

nurse – Um…it appears you are here for a surgery consult as well. Were you aware of that?

me – I ASSumed that is why I had all the pre-op tests performed, yesterday.

nurse – Um…you have a brain tumor.I am so sorry.

me – (silence)

nurse – I’ll have the doctor come right in.

me – thank you, ma’am.

Charlie 10. ATOI 2

Doc Myers comes in. pleasant enough fellow. About 6’4″. Shakes my hand. Nice guy. I immediately like him. Kinda fellow one could have a little bourbon with (again…ending with a preposition). Small talk ensues. He listens to my lungs and so on. He removes my pants…er stitches. I will not lie. I wish I had removed them last week when I had planned. Foiled again…why if it weren’t for those kids and the meddling dog (ref to the original Scooby Doo). And now, my finger looks …well …nasty. Good on ya…or me. Now it’s time for the big boy talk. I will forewarn you and advise that I am taking a half point for Charlie based on the rest of this.

Doc – So…you have a brain tumor.

You may recall I did state I immediately liked this guy…sooooooo.

me – Wait…what?

Doc – (laughing but looking at me) Good one.

me – Had to get you back for the unnecessary stitch removal.

Doc – Seems fair. My wife had one more toward the center of her brain. Best thing you can do for recovery is walk. She still walks 10 miles a day. They had her up and walking the same day. She was loopy because she doesn’t do well on meds, and it has taken a while to get back to feeling normal, but walking is best because it loosens all the leftover fluids that come from surgery and the small bleeds and so on.

me – So…my wife will be happy because she said I am getting fatter…so walking will be good.

Doc – No…you’re good to go. Nurse will be in to schedule your follow up appointment. (Reaches for door handle, then stops…pauses…turns)

At this point, I am sitting…so as he turns and extends his hand, I stand up…even as an a**, I still stand to shake hands. We shake hands…normal like….then he does this handshake:

Now…this is not us shaking hands…but it could be…less my doctor wearing nail polish. Aside from that, dead on pic. I am clearly the darker gent and the woman (hopefully a woman) has man hands…and here’s why I get the half point. He pulls me in for a bro hug:

Again…doc is the white guy. That said, I would never be caught dead or alive with the double shirt or the grey pants. That’s just gay…not that there’s anything wrong with that.

We separate and without pause, he says, “I just want you to know I feel good about this. You’re going to be just fine.” Now…I have an opportunity here to take the high road or really have fun. BTW…it is the multi hand shake and bro hug that Charlie gets the half point for. …It could be all the difference in the long run. …So, Charlie 10.5. ATOI 2. Where was I? Oh yes. “Doc, if you can tell all that by a bro hug, I expect you should never need feel my boys or stick one of your large fingers up my ass.” …Doc laughs out loud and walks away.

Fast forward. I had an Adele song in my head this morning, but cannot recall. The first song to pop on when I pushed the key button to my Outcrack, was the following from Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors:

Sometimes I wake up with the sadness Other days it feels like madness Oh…what would I do without you?

When colours turn to shades of grey With the weight of the world at the end of the day Oh…what would I do without you?

A decade goes by without a warning And there’s still a kindness in your eyes Amidst the questions and the worries A peace of mind, always takes me by surprise.

I feel like I’m walking with eyes as blind As a man without a lantern in a coal mine Oh…what would I do without you?

My imagination gets the best of me And I’m trying to hide lost at sea Oh…what would I do without you?

The difference between what I’ve said and done And you’re still standing by my side A guilty soul and a worried mind I will never make it, if I’m on my own

So you’ve got the morning, I’ve got midnight You are patient, I’m always on time Oh…what would I do without you?

You’ve got your sunshine, I’ve got rainclouds You’ve got hope, I’ve got my doubts

Oh…what would I do without you? Oh…what would I do without you? Oh…what would I do without you?

Fast forward. It was good to catch up with Rob S. today. He’s a good egg. From there to Allied to meet with Norm and Michael. Norm is on a ledge. I am literally parking the car at his lot…in the rear, of course…and he is calling me, asking where I am. Never a good start. Though Norm is not my spotlight today, I will impart this about that. I have, in all my years, never met a man who can get sh** on from any number of people at one time (I believe you can actually pay for this type of service in some countries Steve?) …and not only take it all in stride, but actually maintain a positive outlook. …until today. I consider hugging Norm…fleeting thought…I’m hugged out. Doc really did a number on me…why does my ass hurt? I sit across from Norm. We discuss the current events as they pertain to one of our wheezing bag of d**k tips (ref Deadpool). Two hours later, what was certain to be a disaster for all, turned in to a large sale. Well done, Norm. …well …except I did all the talking…the writing…the answering…the coaching…hmmmm. Okay…as usual, Norm put it all on the line and I just cradled him. Good news. We celebrated with bourbon…from his desk…like the days of lore:

(ref Bewitched TV show) I would be Darren…not gay Darren, but original, emphysema Darren…cuz Samantha was a hottie.

Fast forward. No spotlight friend today. Charlie is in overdrive. I arrive home to find a car just parking in my spot, in my driveway. Guy in a light green golf shirt …salesman…clearly…gets out as I drive by my own house. What the…? I go down the street and make a u-turn in the neighbor’s drive. I pull back and park behind ma, on the grass. I get out. I gather my belongings and start walking toward drive…I did consider running up to the house via the grass and backyard. Better still would have been to run up and hide behind the tree in the front yard, knowing he would be able to see me, but hoping he would be so freaked out, he’d just leave. Nope. No such luck. Good news. He’s a salesman. Better news. The green really makes his eyes dance. He is now walking toward me and extending his hand….oh boy…hardcore sales guy. Please have sweaty palms…oh please. I can see a binder and catch an ADT plaque in the inner cover.

man – (extended hand…in case you forgot) ….

me – Kevin…(extending my hand)

man – Kevin…how’d you know? …wait…is that your name?

me – yes…presumably yours as well?

Kevin – yes…wow…that’s great.

me – oh yeah. What can I help you with?

Kevbo – Did you recently purchase this house?

me – yes, my wife and I did.

Kevi – At your closing, did anyone tell you about the protective services offered by ADT?

me – uh…no. (BTW…not moving from middle of street)

Kevi-wevi – Hmmm. They should have.

me – Well…anything is possible. I truly do not recall. Since moving in, we’ve had a lot going on.

Kevi-poo – Yes…moving creates a lot of extra work.

me – yes…it does. We started kitchen renovations right away and then had to stop.

Kevi-pookins – Do you mind me asking why?

me – not at all. I just found out I have a brain tumour.

Kevikins – OMG. I …I …I don’t know what to say.

me – No worries. I am certain you came here for another reason entirely.

keviwevidingdong – I will just leave this with you and your wife and you can call me with any questions. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.

Charlie 11.5. ATOI 2.

Nope…I didn’t see three rounds of this coming today, at all.

Final thought. I have not had a minute to do what I promised Jess I would do, which was write out the info she had requested. It depresses me to think about it. I know I need to get it done. I know I should be thinking in terms of finality. I cannot. I am given today. That is all. No excuses on my behalf. Sheer laziness. Fear? Perhaps. A bit. I have no fear of dying. I fear that which I do not know. For me, that means missing out on all the unknowns of my life, my kids, my grand kids, my friends. As I talked with Rob S. today, out of the blue, he asked if I was afraid. I told him I absolutely had no fear of death. He looked a little surprised, but not terribly so. But it was in that moment of that answer, that the words above hit my head, and I was, as Drew Holcomb pointed out…deeply saddened. What if? I did follow up with my physical fear of having some sort of stroke or weakness on one side. Rob, at least as I recall it, agreed with my assessment: if a stroke or severe weakness is to be my outcome…best to put a pillow over my face and end it. I do not do sitting still. I do not do weak.

Final, final thought. It came up in conversation, yesterday…somehow…or maybe just in my head, that my coworkers should hear from me, what is happening. In my line of employ, rumours run wild. Performance has been and continues to be the best employer I have ever been associated or fortunate enough to be employed by. My bosses agreed and I wrote the following to be mass emailed internally:

PRA Family,

I am not a fan of change, nor am I one to subject myself to intolerable pity. To those of you on the inner walls of West Devon, you may receive some additional calls in the coming weeks. As my counterparts in WPA are aware, and as nothing is kept secret for very long in this particular industry, I would rather you hear from me before others. A couple weeks ago, I went to the doctor for a headache I have had for …well, every single day for four months. Doc suggested MRI on my neck. Done. The day after, I received a call from my (now) neurologist, stating I should have a full brain MRI, as they found a spot. Done. MRI revealed a golf ball sized mass behind my right eye…whom has since been named, Charlie. It is believed that Charlie is non-cancerous but we will not know until he is debulked from my gourd. October 7 is the date. I will be on light duty, but as I opened with, I do not like change. I would appreciate it if we can just move forward and do as we have done all year since PRA was kind enough to pull me from the streets of Pittsburgh. Life is as normal as it can possibly be. I do not intend to miss much work, but do not know what this all looks like. Again, I suspect my people will question any time I do miss, and would rather you all hear it from me than to be surprised by questions from seemingly strangers.

Thank you in advance for keeping this as light and normal as possible. For those with any interest on following the story of Charlie, I did start a blog. Entertaining. Just email and I will add. My way of coping.

Final, final, final thought. Though some may argue that my starting this blog is for attention, those who truly know me, know the only attention I crave is in getting true, guttural laughter from those who are in my very small inner circle. I cannot express enough how much better this shitty journey has been because of my family/friends…doing exactly as I requested, and treating me as though we are just living another day of regular life. I am given but today. Nothing more. Shout out to Norm and Michael…my work family and friends. I am blessed to have you both. Thank you.