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.
Happy Mother’s Day to the mothers in the United States. Oh, what the heck, make it to the mothers of the world, no matter your religion, nationality, or species.
It’s 65 F in Ashland with light clouds mildly blocking the sunshine. Our high will hit the upper 70s, giving us pleasant holiday weather.
I’d written a post earlier. Edge crashed, taking the post with it. WordPress hadn’t ‘autosaved’ it, so there was nothing to show that I’d been typing and thinking. Foolishly, I hadn’t saved it myself.
After that, I decided, I’m taking a hiatus from thinking about the news today and commenting on it. Do a MDB: Mother’s Day Blackout.
That’s when the 1995 Van Morrison song entered the morning mental music stream. I retired from the US Air Force in ’95. I heard this song on the radio in one of the first few days of life after wearing a military uniform for twenty years.
I wasn’t employed for the first time since 1974. Wasn’t really looking yet, either; I had my retirement pension. My wife was getting antsy, though. Still, I’d decided to take time off for myself. There would be other days for work.
That happened in early November. By December, I was employed and was fortunate to remain employed for another twenty years.
Today has a similar vibe to my memory of that 1995 day. Look at how over thirty years have passed, and here I sit, feeling like I’m at another threshold. Then again, every day is another threshold.
Remembered Lyrics
When you don’t need to worry there’ll be days like this When no one’s in a hurry there’ll be days like this When you don’t get betrayed by that old Judas kiss Oh my mama told me there’ll be days like this
When you don’t need an answer there’ll be days like this When you don’t meet a chancer there’ll be days like this
When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they fit Then I must remember there’ll be days like this
Hope your Mother’s Day is a good day for you and yours, no matter your sex, gender, whatever. Just celebrate the day, rejoice in what is, and make something to build in.
72 F. Sunny. Blue skies. Moving toward 86 this afternoon.
Had smoke in the area yesterday. Turned out to be from winds carrying smoke from three controlled burns into the valley, where it became trapped. The sight and smells triggered alarm until we verified the source/causes. Even knowing what it was, I was left toiling inside, as the smoke immediately irritated my nose and sinuses.
Progress on selling Mom’s home is slowly being made. We’re worried about how long it’ll take. Mom is slowly running out of cash and has meager income from social security and her VA nurse’s pension. We’re selling her home’s contents but I don’t believe that will bring her much. I told my family I’d cover the costs between when/if Mom’s money runs out and her contents/house is sold.
Here we go again. What’s going on with the war and the cease-fire? What’s going on with tariffs?
The Trade Court ruled against Trump’s tariffs. How long until it hits the Robert’s Court and how will they rule? Will it be in open court or will there be another shadow docket decision?
In parallel to those questions, I wonder if the Roberts Conservatives will do some more originalist cherry-picking to ignore historic precedence to claim, “This is what the founders intended!” They duplicitously employed such thinking before. Then Roberts whines that his court is being misunderstood. Right.
Shall we talk about what your court is doing to equal rights, voting rights, and democracy in the United States, Chief Justice Roberts?
Meanwhile, what will happen with Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!?
Despite a ‘ceasefire’, the US military attacked several Iranian targets during the last several days. Like everything else Trump does, he lies and misleads about what’s going on.
It didn’t surprise me that My Neurons blended the news with things I was doing this morning to come up with “Here It Goes Again”. I don’t think I’ve heard the 2006 song by OK Go in years, but it popped into my morning mental music stream today.
So on we go, into another Saturday. Hope your day is of the kind that goes well in all the important ways.
My dream was very busy and energetic. Going on a trip. Taking my wife. Packing, organizing, making arrangements. Very excited. Looking forward to it. On top of everything. All was going smoothly.
I sat back to wait for the journey to begin, pleased that I was ready.
Then –
Awakening, I bolted upright. Looked frantically around. OMG, what time is it?
I didn’t set the alarm!
What time am I supposed to leave?
Whoa, whoa, slow down, buttercup. That was a dream.
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.
Ashland, southern Oregon — Wednesday, May 5, 2026.
Today’s is a picturesque spring day, Ashland edition — sunshine, clouds, 56 F. They say we’re heading to the lower eighties. We cracked 80 at my place yesterday.
I caught up on some local news last night. A rural hospital crisis is affecting the United States. Been going on for years but getting worse.
Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill worsened the situation. By removing healthcare subsidies, healthcare premiums shot up. Many people had no choice but to severely cut back.
Asante is already reducing many services at Asante Ashland Community Hospital in my town. Now operating in other southern Oregon cities such as Medford and Grants Pass, they note that they’ve lost money in the first six months of this fiscal year and cut personnel. Part of the reason why they’re losing money is buried in a paragraph down in the story:
“Patients covered by private insurance are at the lowest percentage in Asante’s history at just over 14% of all patients so far in 2026.”
Oregon saw average premium hikes of nearly 10% for individuals after Trump’s OBBB took effect. Asante’s CEO noted that many local businesses are being priced out of offering health insurance due to these rising costs. Medicare and Medicaid barely cover the costs they say. It’s not a sustainable model.
Yet, with this crisis going on, Trump pretends to worry about the Iranians having nukes and attacks them.
Trump worries about his own security and image, naming things after himself, wrecking part of the White House to build that ridiculous Epstein ballroom, which went from ‘costing Americans nothing’ to $1,000,000,000.
Trump screams freedom! Security! Peace! Then he has the military attack and kill more people in boats.
So much for law and order.
Waiting to see what Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! brings today.
Your Trump Quotes of the Day.
He’s so consistently inconsistent!
Today’s song was another one inspired by Papi, my ginger furbrother. I was petting him after giving him his meds. He was purring like mad. But his personality requires that he be given space. I wouldn’t let him go, keeping hold of him until he gave me an annoyed look. Meanwhile, I laughed and sang the lines from “Magic” by The Cars:
I’ve got a hold on you I got a hold on you Got a hold on you
I’m off for my cystoscopy to see what’s going on in my bladder. It’s being done at Asante in Medford so I better do it before they close.
I hope the best possible day of grace, peace, and joy finds you and carries you on through life on a great wave.
It’s tougher for me this year. A year ago, Mom and Frank, her live-in partner, were residing together at Mom’s house. All of that has changed.
I bought Mom flowers on line a few days ago and scheduled their delivery. Bought her a card, wrote a note, and mailed it. Provided her with a gift card to help with her expenses.
I was thinking, though, how very difficult the time is for my younger sisters. They live not far from Mom. Mothers themselves, it used to be their practice to take Mom to a local restaurant for a Mother’s Day buffet brunch.
Mom loved those times out, raving to me about the food and how nice it was to be with her daughters and their families, to be out at a restaurant with everyone, to see other people.
Change is change. We all do what we can to mitigate its impact. Some things remain out of reach.
Sorry, don’t mean to be a downer. I know that I follow in the steps of many others who have walked this path. In the end, my family has many good memories of this holiday. There are others who never managed to find that level of joy and happiness.
Bottom line for myself: accept the blessings. Reflect on the past.
But let go.
I hope you can balance your memories and changes with the day. If you’re fortunate enough that you and your mom are together and can celebrate the day, I hope you build something wonderful to remember.
It’s an amusing but irritating thing. Whenever I type Sunday into WP, it automatically suggests December should follow.
It’s a comfortable, green spring day. Clouds and sunshine are mixing it up. It lightly rained earlier. We’re sitting at 59 F and expect to reach 72.
Mom is still at the assisted living facility. Says she’ll stay there until May 1. Plans after that? She has none. She meets with a social worker and therapists this week. They’ll give their assessments. Mom says the social worker told her that she’ll provide Mom with a ride to Mom’s house. The social worker says she hasn’t spoken to Mom.
Mom’s yard needs mowed. She wonders why her son-in-law won’t do it. This is the same SIL who she accused of doing things to her. The same one she says is hateful and mean. The one who moved her into his house and rearranged rooms to make space for her.
My wife’s elderly aunt passed away, 86. That was the last of her mother’s brothers and sisters. She was a sweetie, religious, a bit conservative, but tolerant and friendly. RIP, Betty.
I think it was on Meidas Touch where I read of the Strait of Schrödinger: the Strait of Hormuz is open and they’re not. Iran boats fired on tankers, another testament to Trump’s marvelous negotiating and planning skills.
How is it Trump’s fault? The strait was open until he attacked Iran. He destabilized the government. Although a hardliner is in power, the factions are stronger now. They’ve seen that blocking the strait is a money-making proposition. A toll must be paid to get through. Thanks, Dozy Donny.
Ever a cliche, Trump warned Iran, “No more mister nice guy.” Apparently, he thinks that dropping bombs, killing a few thousand people and threatening to wipe them out is being ‘mister nice guy’.
I read up about TrumpRx this morning. If you recall, Trump touted this as a historical achievement which will significantly impact drug prices.
About 24,000 drugs are available for sale in the US. TrumpRx has less than 100 on it.
A survey of adults showed that two thirds said they’d heard nothing or little about TrumpRx.
This is much like Trump’s other promises, big on hyperbole, short on execution, tiny on impact. Examples of that is his wall with Mexico. Now in Trump’s second year of his second term, 25 miles have been added. But they have big plans…
Trump has canceled Operation LOOK – SQUIRREL! He’s replacing with Operation EPIC LOOK – SQUIRREL! This is because Trump and his planners like using ‘epic’ in their project names. Operation EPIC LOOK – SQUIRREL! has two objectives: stop people from talking about Trump’s role in Epstein’s life and crimes, and to improve Trump’s approval ratings.
I have Bruce Springsteen singing “Hungry Heart” in my morning mental music stream. I have no idea why The Neurons are playing it. Far as I could tell, the 1980 song is a jaunty tune about a man abandoning his wife and children. But that’s The Neurons for you: they play by their own rules.
I’m off to Operation Epic Yard Waste Cleanup. Loaded it all up last night. Now it’s time to drive to the disposal center, get in line, and drop it off.
Hope you all have a great day, full of peace, love, and good food.
Michael Seidel, writer 