This is healthy?

My doctor has again pronounced me in good shape after my physical. I'd like to add a few caveats.

1. I still have Friedreich's ataxia, a monstrously horrid condition.
2. I have some, ahem, rectal bleeding. This is no real surprise, but she thinks I should get a colonoscopy. Short of sleeping on the toilet, I am just not sure how I could survive the prep for this test.
3. I have kidney stones. They are still in my kidney and we hope they will gather much moss and be there till I die, which might not be that long because ...
4. I HAVE NODULES ON MY LEFT LUNG! WT-holy flying-F? My doctor is not worried because they are small and I am a low-risk factor. She said they are most likely scar tissue or something benign. She added that we should not panic and wants me to have a test in six months to look at them and see i they have changed My sister said her google research also showed cancer is unlikely, but I have to wait six months to find out. And of course, I am panicking. I just know that I already have worse lung cancer than a 23-pack a day smoker or tuberculosis to rival Doc Holliday's.
   
   I have never smoked, ever. But I blame the cigarettes I found after one of my great uncles visited or maybe after Mom and Dad's dinners years ago. I didn't smoke the cigarettes. Mostly, I just remember opening them up on Gram's back steps.

Six months of this? Maybe I'll worry about the colonoscopy.

I can be an idiot if I want

I just got back from a quick walk with Claren. As is usual when there is little traffic, I stayed on the road for a short stretch. It is a lot smoother than the sidewalk, and there is a turn lane the entire stretch so I just stop on the side if a car comes.

I was halfway down the short stretch when this woman on the sidewalk with two wiener dogs starts calling to me. Claren was awful excited by the wiener dogs, so I didn't really want to stop but the woman kept talking.

Finally, I got close enough. "Are you stuck in the street," she asked. I told her no, it was just smoother. Then she added: "You know you're going against traffic?"

I bit back the answer I wanted to give: "No f----ing way!" and just said yeah. She said OK, sorry and went on her way.

I know she was trying to help but just because I am in a wheelchair does not make me a moron. If I want to disobey traffic rules and tempt death, I totally do not need some do-gooder coming along and making me feel guilty.

Public pee-er (not me!)

As you can imagine, I am quite sympathetic to bladder issues, but I am not sure what to do about this.

My driver pees in parking lots.

He does not just whip it out and whiz right on the asphalt. He stands in the driver's side doorway and pulls the open door around him. Then he goes in a cup.

It is pretty subtle. The only reason I realized what he was doing is that he then tosses the contents of the cup out onto the parking lot.

He is a very nice man, a good driver, and I don't want to get him fired. Plus, how do you tell a grown man that one can't urinate in public?

The first time it happened I told my boss I was conflicted. On the one hand I was grossed out, but I was glad he had not stopped at a gas station and make me late.

But today he did it (well ... actually, yeah, he "did it") on my parking lot where I might wheel. Oh man.

What a pisser

I try to go to bed after my shows end at 10. So why am I here writing after 11. Maybe it is because I just got out of the shower and am too awake. Why did I take a shower after watching Veronica Mars? No, it was not a cold shower thing. Instead, it is a tale of tea, pee and me.

I had a cup of tea as I watched the series finale (very disappointing that it is over). As I watched, I got on the floor to brush Claren, and when it ended I got up or tried to to go to bed.

My bladder must have vertigo because my getting up sets off alarm bells. This time was more urgent than normal, made worse by failure to get back in the chair the first try.

Well, that tea had to come out and once it did I couldn't stop it. I was going as fast as I could to the bathroom and got there without gashing up any walls with my chair (no small feat), but it seemed kind of pointless to let the last little bit go in the toilet.

Then I had to strip. I sat on my towel because my wheelchair cushion was wet. That made no sense. I was dirty, the cushion was dirty, what the hell? But that was what I did.

I needed to put my wet clothes in the wash, and being in a chair, you can't really hold something at arm's length. So the nasty clothes sat on my lap.

All that explains why I showered. But it wasn't over. Because I had used my towel, I had no clean towel within reach and had to dry myself off with a washcloth.

Continence problems are one of the many possible problems with FA. Let me be very clear here: It fucking pisses me off. HA

You can pick your guards and you can pick your nose ...

To lighten the mood:

I thought it was an unwritten rule.

No, wait. To be honest, I didn’t ever think about it. Somewhere, deep down in my body, beneath the depressing dumb brain, probably above the distressing fat stomach, it is just imbedded in the code: You do not pick a stranger’s nose.

But my building guards are taught different, and to be honest I am not sure whether that is good or bad.

Let me explain: I got to work one day a while back and a relatively new guard opened the door for me. As we were going up through the lobby, he said, you got something on your nose. I have allergies pretty much from April to October and colds the rest of the year, so I am in a continual fight against “hangers,” and I appreciate such warnings.

I reached for a Kleenex (I know, I know; it should be tissue but besides the children of my copy editor sister who says tissue) and wiped my nose but apparently missed the offending nose candy.

That’s when it happened. The guard said, I'll take care of it, and before I knew what’s going on, right there in the middle of the lobby a guard was very gently picking my nose. It took him a try or three but he got it, wrapped it up in the Kleenex and gave the wadded-up Kleenex back to me.

After I convince people that this really happened, they are at a loss. Imagine, then, how I felt after my nose cleansing. Violated, yes. Embarrassed, yes. And, just stunned that people exist who will do a distasteful job for someone else without thinking twice.

Still a little grossed-out, though.