What's up?

Almost May, two months and a few days away from John Meis's fabulous Fourth of July party in Urbans, brats and beers, and fellowship among my fellow beer drinking buddies.  I am guessing this is the 50th.

I'm not going to give an estimate of the turnout, but back in the day it was two kegs of beer and then a hat was passed around and we got a large car full of beer just before the liquor stores closed.  Anymore I get a case and a half of beer and when I leave there is still beer.

Well as Kurt Vonnegut was fond of saying so it goes.  

I remember a time, maybe when the party was at its one keg and a car almost full of package stage and the conversation drifted to conditions and pills.  Geez-a-loo they were all off and running, everybody was talking about all the pills they take and it sounded like listening to the grandparents talking when I was a kid.  I would never be like that.

Well I guess you guys have a similar pill armada.  Got two new ones with the stent, one of which if I forget to take it for awhile I will be dead, and one that I have to take twice a day.  My memory is not too hot but I can easily remember once a day, but twice a day, a little iffy.

I wonder if Beagles has moved into that swinging geezer apartment building.  How many years did you live in The Freehold?  What happened to all your junk?

Too be honest I was scared to take the Aztec route of Old Dog, and the stent sounded somehow, um, safer.  But now I have to get another stent.  They tell me I will be on the table for four hours and will have to stay overnight.  Shit, when the subject of stents came up I thought I would go in in the morning, out in the afternoon and ready to resume all my bad habits.  Now I have to do cardio rehab for maybe three months.  

Speaking of bad habits.  I was down to maybe one cig a day.  But now none at all.  I fantasize about maybe a year down the road if I am all hunky dory.  Maybe having a puff, but probably not.

Well.

So it goes

   

Water, Water, Everywhere but Here

 Y'all might have heard about all the flooding in Northern Michigan, but you'd never know it looking out our window.  Our water table hit a peak about a week ago, and it's been downhill ever since.  Even at the peak it was no wetter than usual for this time of year.  Turns out that the Freehold is not in the same watershed as the Cheboygan River, which is only two miles away as the crow flies.  All the flooding seems to be concentrated along the waterfronts of our major lakes and rivers, and the Great Beaglesonian Swamp is not directly connected to any of them. 

Last I heard, youse guys both seemed to be recovering nicely from your medical problems.  Hope that is still the case.  My wife and I, not so much.  We are on a waiting list for a local assisted living facility.  When I asked the lady how many people were on the list ahead of us, she couldn't say exactly, but that it didn't matter.  It seems that, when a vacancy occurs, the next several people in line are often dead, so we could move up very quickly.  Meanwhile, our daughter has found a geezer friendly apartment complex close by in town.  They have a vacancy right now, and we are going to look at it on Friday.  It's not the same thing as assisted living, but at least it would provide us with a safe haven for this winter. 

April Fool

"It could be worse"

No kidding!  On March 31st the Aztec priests took me to the top of the pyramid, raised their obsidian knives to the heavens and tore out my heart.  Just kidding, just another routine triple-bypass; no drama but I'll have an impressive 9.5 inch scar in the middle of my chest.  Things went so well that they cut me loose on Easter Sunday for my own Resurrection and am doing a recuperation at my sister's home in Niles, a clash of realities but I can deal with it.  No complaints except for the healing part.  And the follow-up appointments, therapy sessions, and paperwork, lots and lots of paperwork.  No need for a cane or walker, nice to be on my feet walking around.

So that's how my month has started; how you guys doing?

It Could Be Worse

 That's what I say every time I start feeling sorry for myself.  Sounds like both of my esteemed colleagues are in worse shape than I am, at least heart wise.  I don't know about my shortness of breath issue.  I always figured that was connected to that bout with rheumatic fever that I had as a kid, but now I'm not so sure.  They said they fixed my heart issue when I was in the hospital last summer, but my breath is still as short as it ever was.  I am sucking on my nebulizer as we speak, and I have purchased a portable oxygen concentrator, but I can't seem to find the time to get into a reliable routine with either one of them.  That's why we are looking into assisted living.  If we could get someone to pick up some of our household chores, it might free us up to spend more time on our health therapy regimes.

Meanwhile, as Red Green used to say, "Remember, I'm pulling for you.  We're all in this together."