9-1-1 Calls

          I read that after every school shooting, there’s an uptick of fake calls to 9-1-1 about guns and plans for another shooting. The reasons they gave for such behavior? A need on the part of the caller for attention, a ploy to get school cancelled for a day or two, or just for the fun of it. Just for the fun of it?!! Kids, get real. School shootings aren’t fun. We’re living in such strange times. In this country we have an idiot for president and gun violence is at a ridiculous high. I guess I should add that technology is advancing at such a rate that no one can really keep up with it. Certainly no one as old as I am. That’s all I have for today. I’ll find something else for tomorrow.

Countdown: Today I had a wellness checkup with my primary physician, Dr. Greta Brown. Such a nice lady. I guess “wellness” would be a misnomer for me. My blood sample showed a low red cell count and my PSA was alarmingly high at just over 7. Do I have enough –ologists in my life? Apparently not. She referred me to a urologist to check my prostate. Just about the very last thing I want is surgery to remove my prostate. But if it’s cancerous, surgery would be the only answer. She asked me about my urine flow and I said it was more like a dribble than a flow. She explained that an enlarged prostate might account for the dribble. Moving on from there, despite my claims that I was still all there mentally, I was tested with three words to remember—chair, sunset, and banana. There. I still remember them nearly four hours later. Cassandra (Dr. Brown’s nurse) then had me fill in all the numbers on a clock face, then put in hands for 2:10. I passed with flying numbers. Dr. Brown also wanted me to do a stool sample to see if there was any blood. God, how I hate the collection of these samples, you know, two times take a tiny dab of stool to put on the card, then date and send in the results. I also confessed to bouts of depression and my episodes of falling down. She said, when I explained how my world is shrinking, that my depression was situational and not chemical. Well, duh, yeah it’s situational. The walls are closing in! She asked if I wanted a prescription to help with my depression and I told her the thought of taking any more medication really depresses me. She found that funny. I should do standup.