Every time I watch this video, I can’t help thinking that at least one of these scenes is eerily familiar. 

I especially like the big walking Mr Unhappy, and wish that I had one of those suits in my closet.  I’d wear it on my night shifts.

What happens when the Dreamer and the Realist collide?

This.

I Got You…

Hmm… remember when I said ages ago that I dumped my Sirius stock (SIRI) and was happy just to break even with it?  Well, I glanced at my faux-portfolio and noticed that it’s now trading above $1.  Yup, I could have easily doubled my investment had I just stuck it out and not wanted to get rid of it so badly.  It’s really a shame too… I was pretty excited when I purchase those shares, and really thought that it was going to amount to something. 

Oh well, Life happens.  It’s only money, right? 

More talk at work of “major changes” in the wind…  As someone once said “Believe none of what you hear, and only half of what you see”.. or something like that.  A couple of the guys have accepted retirement packages, and there is a minor shuffle of the teams to compensate for the departures, but that shouldn’t affect me directly. 

But every couple of weeks a new rumour of what’s happening seems to come out of nowhere.  I’ve heard some wonderful tales, and I try to approach it with the same philosophy..  Worry about what you can control…  everything else will simply unfold the way it’s intended to…  It’s not easy, and I’m probably not nearly as good at it as I could be… but I think I’m getting better.

We’ll see…

I don’t understand why that video doesn’t feature Taylor Swift in it, since she sings on the track.  Sure, they have a blonde girl in there, but doesn’t it makes sense that Taylor Swift is that girl?  I thought that maybe there was a second video, but there doesn’t appear to be one.  I’m guessing that maybe Boys Like Girls recorded it on their own, and then Taylor Swift lent her vocals to the track, but by that time it was already established with a video.  Ah well… no biggie..

I’ve never been much of a long distance runner.  I know that will come as a bit of a shock to anyone who knows me.  When I was in school, I liked the 100 meter dash because it was over quick.  I could sprint with the rest of them, and then sit down and enjoy the rest of the day.  (Although the 50 meter dash was even better!)

In the USA, they seem to place great importance in a new President’s first 100 days in office.  What can he accomplish within that short time period?  Can he maintain the momentum he carried throughout the election, and affect change?

Here, nothing ever seems to change.  But instead of the President, we measure the first 100 days of school.  They don’t count weekends, so it takes much longer to get through those 100 days.  I wonder if they count the weekends for the President?  I suspect so.

As happy as I am today… there’s still a sad reminder that 99 is not simply The Great One’s number…

Let the Countdown begin…

Now we’re going to expose you.

Wonderful.  I lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to think happy thoughts.  Rainbows, butterflies, puppies, warm summer nights… anything other than my present situation.

3.. maybe 4.. at least 3…

Hey! Wait a second!  What are the nurses talking about?  Had I not been in such a poor frame of mind, I would have cracked a joke.  It’s cold in here!  But I had no idea what they were really referring to…  Could have been anything.

We’re going to insert the numbing jelly now.

Hmm… well that sounds…  OWWWWW… if THIS is the stuff that’s supposed to make the NEXT PART more tolerable, couldn’t we have found a way to make THIS a little better???  Oh… that doesn’t feel too horrible now… ok.. piece of cake…

Now, we need you to relax…  Take a deep breath..

Hey lady, I’m as relaxed as I’m gonna… OH DEAR GOD!!

I know it’s uncomfortable…

YOU DO? NO YOU DON’T!

… but if you can just relax down there a little, it’ll be easier …  That’s it.. Now you’re going to feel a warm sensation..   just let it out…

If I had any modesty remaining, it was gone at that point.

The bladder looks great!

Fantastic, now get this thing out of me!

No signs of tumors, or anything.

Ya don’t say?

OK, the nurse will take you to get cleaned up, and you can make an appointment to see me in April.

Umm…  aren’t you going to take this thing out of me?  Oh, it’s already out?  When did that happen?  Apparently the one-way street still works quite well for outbound traffic.  Didn’t even notice.

After a lengthy stay in the bathroom, I was dressed and out the door.  Although it felt like an eternity on that bed, I doubt the procedure lasted more than 2-3 minutes.  It was certainly 2-3 minutes that I don’t want to have to repeat again.

“Oh whah.. stop being such a big baby”, I can hear the women readers saying.  “Try childbirth, and then see if you complain about 2-3 mins of inconvenient pain.”

True enough.  I’ll concede that point.

And if you’re wondering how on earth I could publicly post something that is obviously quite personal…  When I was told that I would require this procedure to rule out cancer, I was a little taken back, and decided to do some research.  There’s a fair amount of technical information online, but I didn’t really see anything that humanized the procedure.  True enough..  it was the medical stuff that I was initially interested in.   What exactly IS going to happen?  OK… that doesn’t sound like fun at all…    and then I thought that it would have been nice had I read something from someone who had gone through it.  It’s not a pleasant experience, but it’s an important one… and truthfully, it’s not nearly as horrible as I had made it out to be in my head over the last few weeks.  When they say that it only takes a couple of minutes, they’re right.

Cystoscopy.

Good times.

Anyone unfortunate enough to follow my antics on Twitter has no doubt noticed that I started walking again.  No, not the kind of walking back and forth between the couch and the refrigerator.  Actually walking outdoors.  In the cold.  And longer than going to the mailbox and back.  (Which I was completely shocked to find out is an 800m round trip!)

Two days ago I decided that enough is enough.  I used to do a ton of walking.  Granted, I used to be a teenager without a car, and I had to walk to go see my friends.  And I used to be much lighter than I currently am.  But something that I remembered from those days of walking an hour each way still holds true today.  Walking clears my head.  Opens up my mind.  And maybe, just maybe… is good for me.

I’ve discovered that sitting around the house, waiting for the seasons to change, doesn’t appear to be doing much for my state of mind.  So rather than hide from Old Man Winter, I said “screw it” and put on a heavy jacket, gloves, hat, and a pair of boots that can only be described as a death-trap.  They have thick rubber soles on them that look like they should be good in any weather, but Olympic ice skaters could probably qualify in these things.  They’re horrible on anything resembling H2O in it’s crystallized form.

And of course, the requisite iPod.  Never leave home without it!

I went exploring.  I found a road that I’ve driven past for years, and always assumed was a private road.  Nope.  I followed it up through some sparsely placed houses, and then through the woods, all the while twittering to my heart’s content.  My sister didn’t seem to believe that I was actually out there.  Probably figured that someone got tired of hacking Paris Hilton’s account, and decided to take mine over instead.

I even tweeted as I lay on the ground after my feet were kicked out from underneath me.  I figured “why stop now?”  I pulled myself off the centre of the road, and propped up against a snowbank.  I really didn’t feel like trying to get up at that point.  It hurt too much.

Eventually, I found my way back home.  The next day I took the car and drove through the exact route that I had traveled by foot.  7.2 kms.  That’s quite a little hike.  I didn’t expect it to be that far.  I figured 5 or 6 at most…

Still would have been plenty for me and my newly-formed blisters…

My dear friend, Lisa, once asked me to make a list of some of the things that I wanted to accomplish in my life.

“Publish a book”, I told her.  I even shared the working title with her.

She seemed surprised by that answer.  I think she’d asked that question a lot, but never received that answer before.  She told me that she looked forward to reading it someday.

Lisa’s been gone for a few weeks, and it made me start thinking more about that book.  I may have mentioned to a couple of people about the idea that’s stuck in my head.  I hesitate to use the word “novel”…  more like an unauthorized biography… except that’s impossible if I’m the author, isn’t it?

I’ve had the chance to talk to a couple of local people who have their own books in the works.  It’s probably not as rare as you might imagine.  It’s actually quite encouraging to know that you’re not alone in possessing a deep-down desire to write your story.  But who would read it?  That’s the million dollar question.  Or the ten dollar equivalent! 

I’ve looked at some of the things that I’ve written over the years.  I try to keep as much as I can.  Good.  Bad.  Otherwise.  I like to be able to look back and try to find some value in those words.  I note people’s reactions to what they’ve read.  This blog actually is a direct result of years of encouragement from friends who have been pelted with emails since before email was even popular… waaaaay before the word “blog” even existed.

But I have yet to take my writing to the next level.  I have yet to write a single word of the book, or any of the other significant projects that I have mumble jumbled in my brain.  It’s up there.  I know it is.

I just have to get serious about things, dig down deep… and write.

.. and we’ll insert a tube through the urethra, pump some sterile water in, and look and see what’s going on inside your bladder.

Pardon me?  Insert a tube where?

Through the urethra.

And that’s in my penis, right?

Yes, but don’t worry.  We’ll use a local anesthesia.  You shouldn’t feel much at all.

That sounds lovely, Doctor… but we hardly know each other.  Don’t you think we should spend a little time together first.  Maybe go for dinner.  Catch a movie?  We seem to be moving awfully fast.

You’ll be fine…

Hmm… in the never-ending search to figure out what might be causing me some of my discomfort, we’ve graduated from the fun ultrasounds, to the not-so-fun-sounding cystoscopy.  I’m pretty easy-going when it comes to all this stuff.  I gave up being shy way back when I joined the military.  So I’ve been ok with them poking around down there, but until now everything has been external… not internal.  (Oh, except for that prostate exam. Yikes!) Why can’t the ultrasound peek through the layers of fat and look into my bladder?  It was good enough for my kidneys, and whatever else they were curious about.  But now they need a better look, and apparently that means going up there with a camera!

Naturally I’m a little uneasy about this procedure, but I understand why its necessary.  And from everything that I’ve read, it’s very quick and I really shouldn’t feel much.  Apparently there are far worse things that they could be doing through that passageway, so I’m hoping that this is a one-time only occurrence, and they find what they’re looking for. 

Ahh… the joys of getting older…