Tag: bladder cancer

Friday’s Theme Music – Pretending

Ashland, southern Oregon — Friday, July 3, 2026.

Hot is the word for today. 90 is our expected high. It’s sunny but windy, with a blue sky coping with several blue clouds.

It’s funny to me how Papi awakens me every morning at about 5:50. Today was a little later, 5:57. I wonder about the little clock in his head. More correctly, it seems to be a stomach alarm. “More food, please, hurry.” Which I do. Which he probably wouldn’t ask for if this habit hadn’t been established. Which came about with previous cats and my work schedule. Some things endure change. *smile*

I was looking at the area weather statistics for June. Although we ended on a cool streak, we were 2.5 degrees above average for the month. There were no days when we exactly hit the average.

My body, mind, and spirit feel very strong today. Thank you to everyone who took time to send me positive energy. Send it to others now more in need, please, as I’m doing good.

There’s no escaping Trump today. He’s encountered most days in this era, lying, gloating, boasting, mocking, demeaning. Too often, there’s an announcement accompanied by his smirking visage, and I just respond, ugh.

We have the terrible circumstances that a wealthy man interested only in himself ‘leading’ the government as we celebrate our nation’s beginnings. It feels like a low point. Yes, we’ve been polarized and demoralized before as a country. There have been scandals like Watergate, Contragate, Teapot Dome. There’s been crises like the Cuba Missiles Crises, and so many, many wars. Disasters were endured; pandemics. Assassinations. I didn’t live through many of these and rely on reports others made. I’m living through this, though, and I don’t like it.

What is funny is how fast and consistently MAGA pivots to cover Trump. They embrace his explanations and excuses, ignore his broken promises, and dismiss his lies and convictions in court as meaningless. As they depress me, I turn further and further away from their concerns…

In many ways, I think MAGAts are pretending that Trump speaks for them. They’re pretending that life under him is what they voted for and wanted. They pretend that he’s not misleading them, dismissing them, forgetting them as he grows wealthier and they often grow poorer. Weaker. Sicker.

The real question is, how will they feel when Trump is gone and their situation is not better for any of them except the wealthy? Who will they blame? Where will they turn?

As Trump is already ranked at or near the bottom of historic ratings, I believe that the Trump Era will gain a place in our nation’s history as a dark, low time.

With those of pretending populating my thoughts, The Neurons cranked up “Pretending” in the morning mental music stream. Eric Clapton wrote and recorded it but Jerry Lynn Williams wrote it. With lines like these, it feels right for this Trumpishly diminished day:

“How many times must we tell the tale? How many times must we fall? Living in lost memory you just recall.”

“That’s when I knew she was pretending. Pretending to understand.”

May you find joy and peace in your hours today, happiness in your night, and love in your heart.

Coffee is at hand again. Time to write. Cheers

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Thursday’s Theme Music — Fighting Fires

Ashland, southern Oregon — Thursday, June 25, 2026.

Cooler today — just 85 F — but the summer mix of blue sky and sunshine continues without interruption in our valley.

I haven’t been watching the World Cup games. Not my kind of football. But I dreamed that I was working with a gregarious black guy, trying to sell team jerseys to fans. He’d come into a large shipment of them at a discount, but he didn’t know what sizes he had. All had been manufactured outside of the US, and they weren’t using the labels familiar to me. I was using the Internet to help him size them so he could sell them.

Results are not back from Mom’s tests yesterday, except they have confirmed she doesn’t have a yeast infection. My sister, Gina, related that Mom was complaining about the sunglasses Mom was wearing: they were too big. She went on a rant that Frank probably let his sister, Joan, wear them, because Joan has a big head. She finished, “I could just kill Frank.”

Gina replied, “Mom, you do know that Frank died last year, don’t you?”

I feel like I’m in a variation of “We Didn’t Start the Fire” by Billy Joel. In that 1989 song, he recites court decisions, celebrity names, historic events, and pop culture fads and trends that took place between 1949, when Joel was born, to the current date in 1989. As I read the news, there’s a Billy Joel rhythm: Supreme Court rules, shooting leaves x dead, earthquakes, wildfires, flooding, climate change denial, Trump texts, Trump promises, Trump lies, Trump claims, distraction, distraction, distraction, fake news, elections, corruption, facts, truth, history, Epstein files, Epstein ballroom, tariffs, Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, Israel, Gaza, Lebanon, Iran, Strait of Hormuz, Musk, Venezuela, Ukraine, Russia, China, ICE in the cities, economy, jobs, prices, prices, prices, crisis, crisis, crisis!

Trump didn’t start the fire. But he threw gasoline on it and gave it oxygen. He didn’t start it but we’re gonna fight it.

The song had a lot of airplay back in the early 1990s but has since faded. Not one of Joel’s better offerings, the chorus was pretty familiar to everyone because of the airplay.

Despite those thoughts, The Neurons have the Allman Brothers performing “Statesboro Blues” in my morning mental music stream. A favorite song and cover, it has a jumping, thumping sound to it which always kickstarts my energy.

I hope you have great day, summer or winter, wherever you inhabited for now, and that all goes well for you and yours.

I’m off to my appointments. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music – Helpless

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.

Brent crude oil – Price – Chart – Historical Data – News

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.

Cheers

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Wednesday’s Theme Music – A Short Reminder

Ashland, southern Oregon — Wednesday, May 27, 2026.

Wet, gray morning. Furnace is running to keep us warm. 49 F. 72 is the day’s potential high. That depends on when the rain moves on.

We’re not getting a lot of rain, mind. Just showers off and on. Still, the cooler temperatures, while not my preference, are better than hot, dry conditions. Saves our water, etc.

Papi isn’t pleased with the weather. He came in wet and released a plaintive, “Meow,” that’s quite unlike him. Dried him with a towel and bribed him with treats. Now he’s vigorously grooming.

Spent an hour on the phone with Mom yesterday. She called to talk to me about my health. She sounded so tired and struggled to put words together and finish thoughts.

My sister got the power of attorney done and signed an agreement with a realtor to sell Mom’s house. Then I spent an hour with my sister, texting back and forth as she addressed her relationship with one of her daughters. It’s a challenging world. Always has been, a shifting spectrum of needs, problems, and expectations. Memories and history and differences add more unique elements to finding understanding and developing relationships.

Heard from Trump that he’s in perfect health. Despite his struggles with speaking, walking, and staying awake he aced everything! Trump is a documented liar, so I don’t believe a word of it.

Same with Trump’s war and ceasefire with Iran. Epstein files. Mexico and the wall. Golfing. Trump chose golfing over his son’s wedding. Just as he chose other women over his wife — sorry, wives. Oh, but then, Trump must have realized how bad the optics were, golfing instead of attending his son’s wedding, and changed his plans.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Trump paid for sex with Stormy Daniels in 2006. Melania is his third wife. In addition to his sex with Stormy Daniels, Trump allegedly had a ten-month affair with another woman, Karen McDougal, starting in 2006. Trump is also in the Epstein files but it’s unknown to what degree; just as he reneged on other promises, he reneged on his promise to release the Epstein files.

Instead of releasing the Epstein files, Trump began Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Under this program:

The Epstein ballroom was first supposed to cost $200 million, and would be paid for by private donations. It would then cost 300, no, $400 million. Now the White House asked Congress for one billion dollars for it.

No, I don’t trust a word he says.

Many other Americans also are losing trust in Trump. His disapproval ratings are reaching record levels.

Yet, Republicans just keep walking away from everything Trump does. That thought inspired The Neurons. As I shook my head, dismayed again, The James Gang with Joe Walsh on guitar and vocals, began playing “Walk Away” in the morning mental music stream.

Trump is trashing historic norms and trust in the government. Unlike the GOP, I just can’t walk away.

Hope you have a day memorable with good times, good friends, and good foods.

Cheers

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All ‘Bout Me

Just got a text reminder. I’m due to receive my next dental implant on June 25. That’s exactly a year since the molar and cyst were removed.

Since then, I’ve had my gallbladder removed. Stones and sludge in there, you know?

That was about a year after my ruptured tendon surgery. About two years after my broken arm, itself about two years after my kidney stones emergency room visit, which was about two years after my obstructed bladder emergency.

Now I’m due for Transurethral Resection in my bladder to remove cancer.

On June 25.

Damn, what are the chances that those two things would end up scheduled for the same day?

I’ll need to change the implant appointment. Although I’ve waited a long time to get that completed, facts: the bladder cancer is a greater priority, and it’s harder to schedule. I began noticing blood in my urine in March, and there’s been long periods between blood tests, examinations, CT scans, cystoscopy, and surgery. I don’t want to extend it yet more.

From the half-full point of view, though, I’m fortunate to be able to get any and all of this treatment. So, sure, I’m whining, but it’s first world blues.

It’s way worse for my wife, who has had to visit me to all these different appointments and help me recover. Don’t know where I’d be without her and her support.

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My Situation

I officially have bladder cancer.

This started as blood in my urine a few months back. A CT Scan with contrast showed a lump in my bladder. I went to have a cystoscopy yesterday.

That was an interesting appointment. A med tech, Chris, did the standard intake to update my records. Then he explained that they didn’t have the cystoscopy equipment.

Whaaaat?

It was going to arrive later that day. So I could come back…

Chris left. Ten minutes later, the doctor entered the room.

She did a double take: like, why wasn’t I gowned and in the chair? Pretty funny expression, very human.

Then she sat and we talked. I explained to her that Chris said that the cystoscopy equipment wasn’t there. Oh, the doctor realized she’d misunderstood the staff that morning. She thought they were telling her more equipment was arriving.

She left. I went out to talk to Chris about the situation. Another tech hung up her phone and announced that the equipment was at the hospital warehouse. She was going to race over and pick it up.

Okay. I stayed and waited.

“This might pinch,” Chris said twenty minutes later.

I was naked from the waist down on the chair. Reclined, a flimsy paper sheet covering me. Until Chris uncovered me and injected lidocaine up my urethra.

Pinch? No, it stung in a big way.

That was just the beginning.

The doctor came in. Lubed up her camera. Inserted it into my urethra. She and I watched on a monitor as the camera went up my urethra.

“Arrgh.” I arched up in pain.

She nodded. “Yes, your urethra narrows a lot here. Did you have a Foley catheter before?”

“Yes. Twice.”

“That explains it. Okay, I’m in the bladder. There’s the tumor. Yes, cancer. See it? Looks like a small coral reef on your bladder wall.”

A three cm posterior bladder tumor.

She pulled the camera out. Explained next steps. Surgery in six to eight weeks. I’d be sedated. She’d put a tube up my urethra and then scoop the cancer out. TURBT (transurethral resection of bladder tumor), gemcitabine.

Referral to another doctor for PCNL – Percutaneous Nephrolithotomy – to remove the 1.4 cm stone in my right kidney.

I’ll let you know how it all goes.

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