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Puffed up Peregrine

Sunday, August 28, 2022

Summer's end

So I am at the Oakland Airport last night, ready to enter the TSA portal, when I realize that I have the rent a car keys in my pocket and that the keys to my own van are sitting somewhere about five miles away on a tarmac in a new, black Nissan Sentra.

I freaked out, my flight was boarding in about twenty minutes and the security line was long. I tried to call Alamo, could not get through and finally found a couple of cops outside. I pleaded the urgency of my problem and after joking that I would have to ride in the back in handcuffs, one of them was kind enough to drive me to the offsite center, which is pretty far from the airport and past one of the most Mad Max homeless encampments you will ever see.

I took the next shuttle back and managed to not miss my plane but Southwest is first come first serve so I was sandwiched into a middle seat and would stay in a forward cocoon state for the hour and a half flight. This was a first for me, how stupid.

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I had flown to the bay area Friday night to do some due diligence on a major painting that I am trying to help broker. The communication has been difficult at times and occasionally quite frustrating but I think some small headway was made on this trip. Baby steps.

Prior to the painting examination I was given an address to see some more material on Martin Luther King Jr. Way. Unfortunately, they did not give me the city in the text address and my GPS directed me to to Oakland instead of Berkeley.

The three block walk searching for the address was eye opening and edifying. Some very sketchy characters around, I was assessing my chances of survival for a moment or two. I finally made it to the correct destination, which had nothing for me, frankly. No problem, I owed various people money in the Bay Area and would use the day and a half to settle debts and see some friends.

I stayed with Gary and Melissa. 

She is a remarkable chef, the best we know and she made a beautiful duck ragu Friday night.

Absolutely delicious.

Saturday morning I went to Burlingame to have a delicious breakfast at Kristys with Warmboe. 

Bopped over to his shop, which is even more packed than mine if you can believe it. A common ailment in the trade, I think. Bought some beautiful Roi Partridge prints from him.

Afterwards I stopped at Dave and Amys to see their new construction project and then drove up to Sebastopol to see Rick at his shop. I ended up buying a whole bunch of neat stuff from him there and seeing a few people I knew wander in.

Hightailed it back to Oakland and to the rent a car key debacle. Got home around eleven last night.

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I am packing a lot in to my very recently compressed life, considering I have a medical procedure tomorrow that could be a major pivot point in my existence, Have no idea which way the lots will fall, not even an inkling of how the biopsy will turn out. I saw the tumor on the screen and it was pretty ugly. 

I have had a couple years since my stage four diagnosis in the bladder wall and am happy for the time I have enjoyed with the rest of my organs intact and would like to keep them around for the future if at all possible. Perhaps that is asking too much? I am more than a little apprehensive. And as nervous and pessimistic as I am at the moment, I still have to acknowledge that this tumor could ultimately be benign.


To make matters worse I got an eye infection Thursday, never had one before and I need to see the eye doctor tomorrow before my surgery.

Anyway the coup de grace kicker is... do you mind if I bitch? I am three months from the age of sixty five and it can not come soon enough. I pay over fourteen hundred dollars a month for my medical care (not including my wife) and it covers so little. 

I got a call from the hospital Friday that I would have to bring along a $6500 dollar copay for the biopsy procedure tomorrow afternoon, not having yet met my annual out of pocket expenses. I am like, are you kidding me? But what am I going to do? No time to scrimp when I am sashaying around death's door I guess. Bastards. Thankfully I have the gelt but what a shock!

Guess I shouldn't worry about money when I can worry about my diagnosis and mortality. I believe that the worst case scenario is the same, lose the bladder and prostate and piss through my belly button for the rest of my life. Need to keep the site real clean, alter your life style. 

People do it and live with it, just not me. Not eager to try. 

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Please don't bug Leslie tomorrow, We will get in touch.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

I think of the Rich Hall sniglet: The Ignasecond.

The ignasecond is that moment between slamming the car door, and realizing the keys are still inside. Must have felt a lot like that, but I’m glad you made your flight. Jhciacb

Anonymous said...

Good thoughts to you and da wife. ~ Diane O

Ken Seals said...

I'm thinking about you Robert and strongly hoping all will be well!

Blue Heron said...

thanks, I am strongly hoping too. It's been a good ride.

Liz said...

Do you want my help?

Blue Heron said...

all good.