I have bladder cancer surgery tomorrow. I’ve been told what they’ll do, and I have my instructions for washing, sleeping in clean clothes, when to show, what to wear – what I can and drink, when. Anyone who’s had surgery or knows someone who went through surgery is probably familiar with these guidelines.
I’m in a good space for it. Inconveniences abound, yes, and some potential for a life-altering outcome, but I have the healthcare insurance to cover it. Have a team to do it, and a safe place to recover. I won’t need to worry about food or shelter, and my wife is there for me.
I was thinking about how much worse this is for my wife than me. She has to endure the waiting. I mean, if something happens to me, well, it happens. She must deal with the aftermath.
So, I worry about how she worries. I’m anxious about her anxieties.
I asked her, “How are you feeling about my surgery tomorrow?”
She replied, “I feel good about it. I’m not worried at all.”
Which is exactly what I wanted to hear.
No matter what happens to me, I hope she’ll be okay.
Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, June 23, 2026.
Hot, mid 90s today, copy of yesterday for our valley.
We cope without using the A/C. I like them in cars and businesses, don’t like using them at home. At night, I cool-drench the house and that usually carries us through the day.
Smoke was in the air last night when I popped the door open. Not strong but I definitely smelled it. NextDoor had the answer: a controlled burn in the town next door. They have orchards. Blight had struck. To contain the blight and stop its spread, they cut off the affected limbs and burned them.
People were worried, though. We’re in a red flag situation. Sure, it was a controlled burn, but controlled burns can get out of hand.
Shows the complexity of the entire matter — drought, fire, trees, economy — on one succinct scenario.
At about 6, my wife went into the garage for something and returned. “I want to leave a door open and let hot air. Warm the house. It’s so cold in here.”
It was 92 outside. In the house at that point, it was 79.
She’s been having greater issues with staying warm. More issues with moving. Strength challenges. So freaking depressing to witness. Stoically bearing it, she complains little. Rocks to stand. Grunts with effort. Hangs on to balance herself.
We went to the growers market this morning. Bought baked goods for a friend and took them to him. He has Parkinsons and cancer. His wife is away on a trip with her sister to Alaska. The woman needed it.
Our friend is doing well. The housekeeper was in, finishing. Said she’d be back at 5. Meanwhile, friends are delivering pizza for his lunch at 2 PM.
It takes a community to cope with these things.
I had a pre-op telephone appointment for my bladder cancer on Thursday. Usual stuff about times, bathing with Hibiclens, drinking fluids, eating, where we’re going, where to park, how long it’ll take.
My wife asked, “What about afterward? What’d they say about that?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. This was pre-ops.”
“They’re all so compartmentalized,” she snapped.
I can’t argue that. It’s very true.
My wife and I chatted about the news. She had just read about Trump’s claim that the economy is the ‘opposite of a recession’.
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
This seems like another part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!, an attempt to distract us from what’s really going on.
Anyone living outside of a millionaire’s bubble will probably take issue with Trump’s claims. People are dealing with rising costs associated with energy, housing, food, consumer goods, and healthcare. Trump seems to believe that making these claims will make them true or enough people will simply go along with him on his magic thinking ride.
For the record, for example, oil prices aren’t even down to the levels they were when Trump took office.
Beyond Trump’s fractured economic reality, people are awakening to the MOU that ended Trump’s Iran blunder that cost lives and money. They’re basically responding, WTF?
Besides the ongoing saga of the Epstein ballroom construction, we’re also dealing with Algaegate. Trump is straining to point the finger at someone else for the clear disaster that it’s become. It’s such ugly optics, but it perfectly summarizes Trump’s flawed grip on truth, facts, and history.
Today’s music is “Helpless” by Neil Young. Reading the news on some days just engenders that frustration and helplessness, a sense of ‘go do something.’ Protest, scream, call people, write things. Some mornings, I’m a stick stuck in the mud. But I drink my coffee, write out some of my anger. Suck in some air. Count my advantages. Move on for a short while, at least.
“Helpless” is performed by Neil and The Band. Hope you find it worthwhile to hear and watch.
Hope you’re feeling good, doing well, and looking forward to better days.
It’s clear skies and sunshine for us today. 66 degrees now, the high will be found in the 80s F. Some say 81, another contingent claims 88. We’ll see.
Oh, the Mom front. She ran out of her pain patches. They’re by prescription so she must see her doc for them. She didn’t have an appointment, and they don’t have an opening until early August. It’s concerning that with all the doctors she’d recently seen, no one ever thought to say, how are your pain patches?
Then she fell over backward in her wheelchair the other day. Hit her head. She’s been complaining of headaches since. Yet, that morning when it happened, she refused to get taken to the hospital. Today, it became a must. Now sis is at the ER with her and we’re in wait and see mode.
Poor sister, too. She’s already busy, working, meeting with the realtor to sell Mom’s house, selling and giving away Mom’s furnishings and possessions, taking care of her grandchildren, and here she is, summoned back to pick up Mom, take her to the hospital, wait with her, await next steps…
Locally, I’m perplexed and pleased with a credit union project. Bring a bag of papers to be shredded and three cans of food, and they’ll shred it for you. Sounds great! I went through our papers, filled a bag, and bought three cans of food to donate.
I’m irritated because the credit union has two locations in our town. One is a half mile away; the other is almost two. Yet, to participate in this offer, I need to drive almost twenty miles to Medford to participate.
Makes little sense. Why not do it in an Ashland location as well as a Medford location? Why make so many people waste energy and pollute the air to drive that distance?
Then there’s the Trump front. Paul Krugman had commentary about Trump’s apparent mental and physical decline, and the enablers in DC and in business who support, cover, and front for him. For all, it seems to be, “What’s in it for me?” I don’t know if that’s true or reductivism. I think the truth is on a spectrum somewhere in between. Whatever their reasoning, I remain disappointed that so many seem eager to limit voting and embrace norms that seem to favor creating a Christian white nation.
Trump’s Iran war remains on, although a ‘ceasefire’ is in effect. I watched Jordan Klepper conduct interviews with MAGAs who smugly tried to tell us that Iran is a conflict, not a war.
They’re taking clues from right-wing media, the GOP, and Trump himself. Trump reminded the nation we’re at war but also said that we’re not at war and that saying we are would get him in trouble. He’s winking at the system of checks and balances, but we as a nation have been doing this for a long time as well.
At the bottom of my disgust at this mess remains the huge challenge: how do we fix our flaws? Can we fix them? Can we at least mitigate them enough to feel comfortable with calling ourselves a land of freedom and equality and a democratic republic. Because right now, those claims are very, very thin to me.
It didn’t begin when the Roberts Court decided that Trump as POTUS could be above the law. It began long before that, with small drips. We let the drips go. Now the foundation is showing rot and we’re wringing our hands about what to do.
To make myself feel a little better without drugs and alcohol, I turned to Nate Silver’s latest findings on Trump’s popularity.
“Today, Donald Trump’s net approval rating is sitting at -19.1 in the Silver Bulletin average. That’s less popular than Joe Biden was at this point in his term (-13.6) and less popular than Trump himself was during his first term (-10.6).
“About 48 percent of Americans strongly disapprove of Trump’s job performance. Just 21.7 percent strongly approve of the job he’s doing, while another 17.2 percent only somewhat approve.
It’s worth posting this quote again because it completely captures Trump’s attitude AND his base. He called it right, and we see it playing out over and over.
I have “One More Time” by Daft Punk in the morning mental music stream. A dance song, it’s actually a celebration of things, but it hit my stream because I muttered ‘one more time’ to myself as I checked texts from home and read the news.
I hope your mood is up and your day goes well. I hope the best for us all. I guess the challenge for that is agreeing what that is.
I dreamed I was at my mother’s house. It wasn’t her real-life house but I knew what it was in my dream. Although everything was white, there was little light.
I was trying to open some kind of cistern. As it transpired, I knew that it was wine I tried opening, to see how it was. It was supposed to be red wine.
I was being very careful, meticulous, because I worried about the cork falling apart. But it wasn’t the ‘traditional’ cork stopper, but a round, flat circle.
My youngest sister joined me. She asked what I was doing and I softly explained it as she leaned over me and watched. I had just gotten the safely out when something fell into the wine.
I asked my sister, “Did you see that?”
“Yes,” she answered.
“Was that a piece of the cork falling in?”
“Yes.”
“I thought so.” I sat back. “All that work and I got it out and then it broke and fell in.”
My wife and I are on the Oregon coast. We ate a wonderful fresh breakfast at the Fresh Harvest Cafe. Then we hit the local Goodwill.
My wife enjoys visiting Goodwill stores. She likes bargains and she likes re-using things. She did say today, “I’m not buying anything new. I’m death cleaning so whenever I see something I want, I just tell myself, ‘You’ll just have to throw it out.'” Books are the exceptions. We bought four, two for each of us.
Killing time, I wander the store and write a short story in my head. It’s about a future Goodwill. Dystopian situation. A guy ransacks an unused house. There’s a lot of them. Finding a cache of shot glasses, he brings them to the Goodwill. They give him a small bag of peanuts for them. He sits outside in the sunshine, savoring every nut as he eats them.
My sister texted me about her grandson’s birthday. He’s already fifteen, thoroughly discombobulating my brain, which still thinks of him as much younger. His mother is still a teenager in my thoughts. To see that he’s now a teenager is too much. I do the slow math; I was fifty-five when he was born. Time, you know?
Sis tells me that her grandson went to an Escape Room for his birthday. Muses gather in my head to conceptualize fiction about Escape Rooms.
Sis interrupts with a text abut Mom. She’s taken Mom to Urgent Care for another suspected UTI. Mom complains about dizziness as she Mom gets in and out of her wheelchair and the car.
Browsing Goodwill shelves, I see things which might be in my home. I go through an aisle of tools and imagine my tools in there.
I believe I have seen the future.
Leaving the building, I breath in fresh air and smile at the sunshine on my face.
Don’t know exactly where I was but I was younger – middle-aged.
In a building, I could look out windows and see a large body of pale blue water. I seemed to be in a white building, like a lab.
A man was treating another man. I could hear the conversation but really see them. The man treating the other was saying, “I’m injecting him with this.” There was more blah blah which I couldn’t follow.
I kept getting distracted, turning around, looking to see what else was going on, looking out the window. Sunny out there. Inviting.
The man said, “What I’m doing will replace his bones.”
I saw him now, tall, black receding hair, thick black beard, white lab coat. Oh, I realized. He’s injecting the other man with something that will replace his bones with steel. The ‘something’ seemed like a thick green fluid. Well, that could be useful, I thought. If they’re in the military, for example.
Then I realized I was the one being injected. Oh, they’re turning my bones into steel with this fluid. How does it work? How long does it take?
“Not long,” the man replied, as if I’d asked the questions. “We’re almost done.”
Michael Seidel, writer 