Scott

I do Love Spreadsheets

I can’t remember when I started daily, sometimes it seems constantly – clearing my throat. It has to be a year, maybe two or even three, but it is every day. I thought an allergist might identify the cause, so I made an appointment.

His assistant took a felt marker and produced spreadsheets on both of my forearms, complete with columns and headers. She poked my skin in each marked cell with the corresponding poker from her tray of pins and said she’d be back in 30 minutes.

I sat in that quiet exam room with a pillow in my lap and my arms steady on the pillow. It was a perfect time to catch up on prayer. The spreadsheet reported zero allergies, next stop – another blood test.

Are You Rrrrready toooo Rrrrrumble?

My prostate surgery was almost seven years ago. We’ve continued regular PSA testing since then and the results have always been, “undetectable.” In reality, undetectable is actually detectable, but if the number is less than 0.1 ng/ml, it is considered undetectable.

The voicemail with my December test results relayed a 0.15 score and a, “please call to make an appointment.”

I made the appointment and saw my Urologist. He seemed quite concerned and commented a couple times that this never happens this far out from the surgery (almost 7 years).

He’d reviewed my file and seemed pleased that I already had a radiologist, because if today’s blood test verifies the last one, radiation may be prescribed.

Where to radiate would be the question (since there is no cancerous prostate). He told me about a new technique that has just arrived in Portland, and is promising for that very issue.

I asked him; wouldn’t it be funny if the prostate cancer was positioning to play a big joke on the Multiple Myeloma cancer?

I wondered if they would ever battle to claim credit for my demise.

IN THIS CORNER:

The Reigning Champion with 26,730 (estimated) deaths in 2017 – Prrrostate Cancer! Off to an impressive start, but reportedly eradicated with surgery.

IN THE OTHER CORNER:

THE INCURABLE! The Second Most Common Hematological Malignancy – with 10,790 (estimated annual) deaths Mmmuuuuultiple Mmmyyyeloooooooma!! Starting out determined, but beat down repeatedly with radiation, chemo, a stem cell transplant, and more chemo – On the ropes, but still breathing.

Prostate cancer, inching by the fingernails, crawls back to the center of the ring with just a hidden spark of life – grabs Myeloma by the throat and whispers, “Incurable? I’ll show you incurable!”

A young lady who’s had two babies since she started taking my blood, took it once again. It was tested and the results relayed by voicemail: 0.15 confirmed, please call and make an appointment for two months from now.

*A Beautiful Sunrise tempting me to be late for work recently*

I really felt fortunate to catch this action shot – my immediate supervisor at work – going off the rock pile jump on his bicycle, sailing over the mote and fence (in his Grinch pajamas). It’s a Public Works tradition.

Sticks and Stones may Break My Bones – but Needles…….

The van is due for an oil change. It’ll wait. I should dehaze the headlight lenses, but that can wait. I really need to organize the video’s I’ve been transferring from VHS, but there’s no time for that now.

There are leaves to rake, gutters to clean, and power steering to find and install in the Toyota (and that rattling rear window is really wearing on me); but those things and more will have to wait. I am making Christmas presents for my grandchildren, and for my sons. They must be finished and mailed in time and, HURRAY! I made it.

I suppose now that I’ve actually dusted and organized the surface of my desk, I can no longer complain about not having enough time.

I did reach the point early on Christmas Eve when I’d checked-off enough lines on my to-do list that the ascending graph line of “this desk is an utter mess!” crossed the descending graph line of “time sensitive Christmas things that must be done.”

It will be nice to end the old and start the new year with a clean desk, like that feeling of slipping into a bed of fresh sheets.

I sit here now in the afterglow of Christmas day. Our Christmas was most always at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. We’ve only had one official family Christmas at our house, and that was the year Diane gave me a 57 Chevy; so when she announced we were having the family Christmas this year, I thought great! Maybe I’m getting another car!

She shortly relieved that suspense explaining there would be no surprise car this year. But, among my gifts from her was a very nice office chair in which I am comfortably sitting now as I type, no longer needing a pillow to sit on to cover the seat cushion flattened by years of use (I’m passing on the opportunity to comment here on the weight or rigidity of any posterior frequenting the now previous chair).

Diane really enjoys decorating every room and every part of our house for Christmas. And, she did a wonderful job this year of almost singlehandedly orchestrating Christmas day arrivals, snacks, seating, background music, cats banished, gifting order and balance, Christmas dinner (Breakfast), leftovers to go with goodbyes, and directing cleanup triage.

This Christmas was very nice, but last Christmas may have been the best ever. Diane and I met Robin and family at Brandon & Emily’s home in Michigan for Christmas week. It was a grand experiment, and everyone survived – hopefully leaving the door open to a future Christmas with all of us together again.

On the way to that family Christmas, our flight from Chicago to Marquette was cancelled due to snow. We decided to rent a car and drive the remaining 370 miles. Brandon called ahead and reserved a car for us, I hopped on the rental car shuttle bus, and Diane began the 90 minute wait for our luggage.

There she met an old couple (older than us!) who also would have been on our cancelled flight to Marquette. In a moment, Diane phoned me and said, “Get a bigger car – I’ll explain later.“ What a joy it was to meet, travel, and visit with these wonderful people. Isn’t it funny how God works? They said we were a blessing, but really, they were the blessing for us.

I had surgery in October to repair my incisional hernia, also referred to as an umbilical hernia (also referred to as a sticking-out-belly button). It is so very nice to no longer have that little door knob on my stomach. I’m glad I didn’t get the eyeball tattoo.

I also had the regularly scheduled quarterly cancer tests for my oncologist in December, along with a PSA test for my urologist, and a cholesterol test for my general doctor, and another test for my heart doctor.

I thought it would certainly be efficient to get enough blood for all this with one needle, but when the “draw” was finished that day, I had four little “badges of courage” on my arms and hands.

For more than six years, my PSA numbers have been tested and pronounced undetectable. The urologist’s office called me the day after Christmas. My latest test showed an increase in the PSA. He wants to see me. I suspect more needles.

I remain thankful to God for a life overflowing with blessings.

Slipping Away

Summer is slipping away, but it has been wonderful.

*Kellen driving my old RC-10T and keeping it mostly on the track*

Both of our sons with their families visited us this summer. We made good memories and I took pictures. This is the second year my grandson, Kellen, has been driving radio control cars. At age three, he’s improved quite a bit. My two year old granddaughter, Sauvie, began her RC driving lessons during her visit this summer.

At Brandon’s request, I sold both of his old Chevrolet’s this summer. His ’62 Corvair was here for about 10 years, and his ’63 Nova for 15.

*The previous line up of collector cars in our shop*

The Corvair sold first, a father and son team bought it. The son is 14, and hopes to be driving it when he gets his license.

He tried on the driver seat and steering wheel as he scanned the dashboard and interior. Spotting the window crank on the open driver’s door, he pointed at it and asked, “What’s that?”

That sale created an empty space in the shop, but like digging a hole in wet sand; it began filling in right away. The Nova sold about a month later, and with two empty bays, it may actually take a few weeks for the shop’s gravitational pull to fill those spaces.

My brother, Loren, rode his new Street Glide to Newberg for our Dressel Family Reunion. I put red lights on the garage floor – not so much as a guide to the landing/parking area, but as a Welcome.

He brought his new electric RC Truck. We were running two lap races on my back yard dirt track Sunday morning before church; I thought I had the home field advantage, but – he beat me five races in a row!

We also got to run our cars on the indoor AstroTurf track in Salem, RC Plus. That was fun, and while there I drove for the first time, my new Losi 3.0 buggy (thanks, Jason). I have two bodies for it, and the one I like best features my granddaughter’s likeness.

When I told her dad how quick that car can get around the track, he indicated that was fitting – quick like Sauvie. He asked if it also jumps a lot. Actually, the car does jump a lot. How did he know that?

I may have taken some of my best pictures this summer. The years of pictures I have taken of my kids and the pictures I am taking of my grandkids will always be my most treasured.

Other than family, my favorite photo opportunity is an event called “I Dragged The Gut in downtown McMinnville,” or “I Dragged The Gut” for short. I love taking pictures there, and I have developed a style I might call Dream Shots (that’s easier to say than low light exposure with slow shutter blurring that makes a still picture indicate motion). Click here to see more.

Also from this year, possibly my best car show pictures, and I was very happy with these fireworks pictures (some in this album taken earlier).

I saw the heart doctor to follow up on the EKG and stress test. He found nothing serious, and suggested I improve my diet, lose weight, get into better shape, and come back later for another look.

I saw a foot doctor. I don’t know why it hurt. I waited weeks for the tendon above my heel to get better, but it got worse, so – doctor – foot doctor – x-rays – MRI – Achilles Tendinitis – special boot and physical therapy. It’s getting better.

I saw the belly doctor. My sticking out belly button was getting worse.

It seemed I was constantly holding or pushing it back in, and sometimes it didn’t want to go back in, and one time after a reluctant push, there appeared red spots near it. So – doctor – belly doctor – Ultrasound – bowel in the button – surgery (scheduled for October)!

The air boot helps if you don’t mind clunking around wearing only one extra large ski boot, and the Lumbar lower back brace support belt frees up the hand that would be pressing the (belly button) hernia.

I saw the Oncologist, three terrific months had passed since my last visit, so – visit friends with needles (who draw blood) – tests – and my favorite test results: no change. I can live with that. I remain daily thankful to God.

It took a long time to become an old man

I don’t remember crossing the line, I’m sure it was a slow accumulation of things beginning with reading glasses and hairs turning gray.

Now I am a grandfather, older and wiser; but the wisdom that comes with age seems to be discounted by occasional forgetfulness. No one really cares about what I have seen, done, or learned, because now I am old.

As a young man, I remember hearing firsthand the observations of old men, observations that sounded like complaints about the growing disrespect and lack of morality displayed by my younger generation.

I thought, come on, it’s not all that! But in my heart I suspected they could be right. Now we all know they were. Not wanting to sound like the crotchety old men I didn’t want to hear, I struggle to wait patiently for the day my son will ask for advice, advice I know he needs badly right now.

I don’t know the proper procedure (I had no dad to advise me), but I’m holding some real pearls of wisdom for him. I don’t want to offer them up unsolicited because that guidance is never welcomed.

I hope when the day comes that he does ask, I can remember these pearls of wisdom, or at least remember where I wrote them down.