Say, "Ahhhhhhhhh."

 

Yeah, another doctor appointment today.  After never hearing anything from the surgeon who harvested my prostate,  I asked my internist to do a PSA test.  I would like to have some factual information, unlike hearing one thing, then another, then nothing from the surgeon's office.  So, a bit more "wait and see"... as my buddy Bud says, "Hoping for the best, preparing for the worst."

I like my internist.  So, of course, he is leaving.  His office is associated with the medical corporation that owns the hospital where I had less than good experiences with my hip and the prostate harvesting.  Obviously bound by some sort of non-disclosure, he couldn't say what his immediate plans are.  I told him, "Let me know where you are, and I will follow you there."  He isn't allowed to copy any information on patient files, so I will have to search to find him, assuming he decides to stay in practice.

On the bright side, he said my heart and lungs sound good.  Everything is fine with my ears, nose, and throat.  He said, "Looks like you are active - you have decent muscle tone.  I'd say you are in good shape."  He did not add "for a man your age."  That's a first.

 

I had been fasting for the blood test (no, I didn't study for it), so I was ready for "the stick"... the lady in his office who takes blood is like a sweet little grandma.  She is kind and gentle with the poke.  After that, I was ready to get a bite to eat.

Then, since we were in Harlingen, the obligatory stop at Sam's and out to our storage unit.  Joan wants to recover the headboard in the motorhome; we had investigated that ahead of going out there and got it out without (much) issue.  It is wide - covers wall to wall, across the bed and both nightstands...

We weren't sure how it was going to fit in the Equinox.  The answer: through the back gate, mostly upright, across the front passenger seat (reclined), and just touching the headliner at the windshield.  Literally, just fit.  We'll take it home so she can work on it with her fancy-schmancy sewing machine.  She had to ride in the back seat on the passenger side... I felt like I was "driving Miss Daisy."  She had to tell me when it was clear to the right, 'cause I couldn't see around it from the driver's position.  Not the first time she had told me where to go.

Back home early afternoon.  I may need a nap.