First of all, thank-you to all the people
that reached out yesterday after my post about the doctor’s visit. It’s always
nice to know you’re not passing through life unnoticed. Despite his legendary acerbity
even the Cantankerous Friend sent some good thoughts, which must have been
painful for him.
As to the news, the doctor, once he
got over his shock at seeing me outside of my annual physical, administered a
bunch of tests, ranging from vision to strength of grip to balance; all of
which I passed with no problem. He said that ruled out a lot of the more dire possibilities
which was good to hear. He reached out to a neurologist to pinpoint the right
radiographic test which he is now scheduling. I’m going to get a CT Angiogram
with and without contrast, whatever the hell that is. I’ve had CT scans before,
while not fun, at least I’ll be able to find out if something is growing in
there. He wants it done before Friday and said I’m supposed to go straight to the
emergency room if another headache occurs before that.
No Thank You |
I nodded sagely when he said that.
Later in the visit he revealed that had I gone to the emergency room as my wife
was campaigning for over the weekend they would have done a lumbar puncture as
part of the testing. That news more than validated my decision not to follow my
wife’s advice. No one should have their lumbar punched in the early morning hours
by the rookies usually assigned to that shift.
Scene at Airport This Morning |
My wife was adamant about delaying her
trip to Panama so she can shepherd me through the testing. She got a little
upset with me for insisting she follow through with the planned trip. I’m not entirely
sure myself why it was so important to me. I think I don’t want to assign any
more importance to the potential outcomes than my imagination has already done.
I don’t like being coddled and she would be in full coddling mode for the
duration. More so, her elderly parents deserve to have her around as long as
possible after I whisked her away 32 years ago. At our age to still have both parents
around is a true blessing and their company should be partaken of as much as possible.
The Goodbye Photo |
Lounging at the Hyatt |
Some of my wife’s adamancy must have
reached the cosmic balancer because after getting up at oh-dark thirty to deliver
her and the PanaGal to the airport we found the flight had been cancelled. There
was an immense line as people tried to re-book the flight – always a fun experience.
The upside was the airline was going to put everybody up in an airport hotel
and pay for all meals since the delay was not weather related. Copa is adding
an additional flight tomorrow to take care of everyone. So instead of making another
early morning trek into Boston tomorrow we opted to have her stay there. She’s
booked into a room at the Hyatt and enjoying some well-earned rest. I’ve
already fielded three separate phone calls from her lording her current
opulence over me. I miss her already.
While in the waiting room yesterday I finished
off the next in Terry Goodkind’s latest Richard and Kahlan series, Severed
Souls. This sequel has the two desperately trying to find a cure for their
impending deaths while still fighting off hordes of half-people. As usual
Goodkind excels at the vivid battle scenes as the ever dwindling set of
survivors gamely make for a refuge while harboring a hidden traitor. There are
a couple unforeseen deaths of major characters that strain credulity but may be
a sign Goodkind wants to lay the groundwork for moving on from this story line.
It was a good read if a little disconcerting to lose some old friends along the
way.
Some of Goodkind’s words from Severed
Souls as someone unwisely decides to attack Kahlan:
“Although
Erika’s face was filled with hate, Kahlan felt no hate. She felt no pity, no
rage, no anger, no sorrow. There was no mercy in Erika’s eyes, and there was
none in Kahlan’s, either. In that infinitesimal spark of time, Kahlan’s mind
was without emotion, filled only with the all-consuming rush of time suspended.
As she watched Erika before her, frozen in time in the midst of rushing in for
the kill, Kahlan knew that the woman had no chance. None. She was already dead.
That fact hadn’t caught up with her yet.”
The daily dose of Californian perfection:
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