The latest music project...

 

Joan requested this song.  I worked out the guitar and vocals, then added drum and bass guitar tracks.  This was a couple weeks before the surgery.  Mark started working on keyboard and lead guitar parts.  He suggested a track with some hand drums; I sent that off to him.

While I have been recuperating, Mark sent me files of the progress.  This morning, I got the finished file...

https://soundcloud.com/captainjimb/night-owls

Mark did the engineering on this, as well as piano, lead guitar, and sax (synth) tracks.  I did the vocals, acoustic guitar, drum/percussion, and bass.

 

It has been months since we've done a music only track.  While Joan and I were in the motorhome for the summer, Mark and I did a couple music video projects.  Since getting home, I've done several "Stayin' at Home" music videos, Mark has been making some music with a friend there in Phoenix.  It's good to work together on a project again.

Hope you enjoy the music.

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This afternoon, I did another Staying At Home video, a Christmas edition...

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.  Shot with an iPhone 11 Pro and a Shure MV88+ mic.  Ambient room sound, backed with my Emerald X7.

Visiting with friends...

 

Not me; I'm like a hermit these days.  Rufus.  Out for our late afternoon walk, he saw his dog friends Pepper and Luna at the end of the block, and made a beeline for them.  The dogs' owner, Randy, saw that I was moving a bit slower than usual.  We talked.  Seems that this is another guy who "had the same thing done."

Well, apparently, his situation was a bit different: he was up, walking a mile or so the same day.  No pissing issues.  No "suspect areas," no problems.  So, yeah, about the same thing.  ;-)  I learned this with the hip: don't compare your situation with anyone else.

Rufus got to have some nose-to-nose time with Randy's dogs.  Everybody played nice.

Walking back to our house, Rufus saw his first dog friend, Tessa (being walked by dog Dad, David).  More nose-to-nose time.

I think Rufus has more friends than I do.  The dogs he seems to bond with are all females.  Yeah, the boy is a chick magnet.  Even inter-species.

Play that funky music, white boy...

 

If you said, "Wild Cherry, 1976," you get 50 bonus points.  If you understand the premise behind the song, you get 50 more... disco was the big thing back then, and Wild Cherry stayed with playing rock.  Apparently, a black audience member shouted out, "Play some funky music, white boy," and the rest is history.  May be made up history - I wasn't there.

Today, my cousin asked me if I'm still able to play guitar.  Yep.  The numbness in the fingertips is mostly gone.  The tenderness across the lower abdomen means it smarts just a bit to sing from the diaphragm.  But, I play something for Joan and Rufus most days.

That's a distraction from what my days are currently about: trying not to wet myself.  There is a wide range of products made for this situation; we have tried several (and by we, I mean: Joan buys 'em, I try 'em).  One of those products is essentially an adult diaper.  Joan said, "Do you want some help getting it on?"

"Oh, yes, let's add some insult to injury."  I'm kidding; I didn't say that.  I did, however, explain that I am not bed-ridden, nor shitting myself, so perhaps that was a solution to the wrong problem.  So, we compromised and I put on the stupid diaper.  Give me any crap about that and I will send photos to your e-mail.  I'm kidding again; mercifully, there are no photos.

There's another kind of pad that is roughly triangle shaped; well, rounded edges.  So, does the narrow part go up... or down.  I tried it both ways over the course of the day.  The way that seems the most effective is the least comfortable.  Although for full disclosure, none of these things are comfortable.  And, sure as hell, aren't stylish.  ;-)

One of my walks today was just under a half mile.  The walk with Rufus was much shorter.  Doing my kegel exercises.  I don't know if I still have a kegel, but if I do, it's tired.  Yeah, that's a joke.  I read about kegel exercises a couple decades ago in one of Joan's Cosmopolitan magazines.  As I recall, it is supposed to "drive your man wild"... although, also as I recall, there is something every month in that magazine that is supposed to do that.  That is a lot of wildness.  I'm not looking to drive a man wild... I don't have a man.  Don't want one.  I do have a big furry boy, though, and if I want to drive him wild all I have to do is go to the pantry where he knows his food supply is.  No kegels necessary.

Slept like a baby...

 

Woke up crying every two hours and wet myself.  (rimshot)

Just kidding.  Well, about the crying part.  With the catheter removal yesterday, there was a lot of dribbling, and I'm not talking about playing basketball.  My beaten and bruised bladder has been able to let the urine flow as it produced it, for the last 10 days.

A small victory last night was to get some urine out while on the toilet.  Oh, if you're squeamish about urine and related stuff, this is about as graphic as I'm going to get.  There is a learning process with Depends and related male pads.  Seems like it would be intuitive, but placement and fit matter.  The first few hours in bed were fitful, as I concerned myself with... um... checking for leaks.  I think I fell asleep finally after 2:00.  Around 4:00am, I got up to check - not a lot of urine in there.  Between 4:00 and 6:00, it was dry.  I'd like to say because I am relearning control, but more likely because I hadn't had anything to drink in hours.  The small victory at this point: making it through the night without leaking on the bed.

Joan graciously put down a puppy pad where my hips are on the bed.  No idea if it would be necessary, but I didn't want to make more laundry.

Up and taking on the day.  I did my morning routine and made coffee for Joan.  Another small victory, but important to me.  Walking around is easier without the catheter.  I am standing straight and walking tall... well, as tall as my height will allow.  I've done a couple "laps" of the house.

My intent here isn't to overshare.  Someone else will go through this and may find this "daily life" information helpful.  I'm looking ahead to get back as much "normal" as possible... and goodness knows normal hasn't always come easy for me.  A friend said to me, "You still have your sense of humor."  You have to laugh at some of this to keep from feeling sorry for yourself.  On the bright side: compared to my infancy, this is a step up... I can change my own diaper... well, more like big-boy pull-up pants.  ;-)

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Another small victory this afternoon: Joan suggested Domino's for a pizza and sandwich.  And, a crispy lava cake dessert.  I am SO in.  I have been eating a lot of soup (home-made and tasty) and chicken.  She knows what I like!  I wanted to drive, so I was her chauffeur; she went in to pick it up.  Truth be told, I'm still a bit tender, and I can brace myself on the steering wheel for the bumps.  ;-)

Joan took this photo of Rufus and his Pops getting in a nap...

The big furry boy is on a pillow to spread out his weight on my lap.  I must have been really tired, having fallen asleep sitting up.  Ruf can sleep in any position... I'm trying to learn from him.

 

Up and at 'em...

 

Today is the first follow-up after the big poke.  We will get the pathology report, and supposedly they will remove the catheter.  What I have read about the catheter varies from "that was the worst part" to "relatively painless."  You know why the difference?  If it is happening to you, it is "the worst part," if it is happening to someone else, it is "relatively painless."  ;-)

I'm not sure what to expect after the catheter removal, but it sounds like incontinence is to be expected.  Hopefully, temporarily.  I am prepared... Depends and some "peni-pads" (reminds me of an old Saturday Night Live fake commercial).

We'll see how this plays out.

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A bit over an hour wait at the doctor's office.  Cut to the chase, the pathology report was mostly good.  The surgeon took some extra tissue that she "didn't like the look of" and there was cancer in that tissue.  The good news would be: that is the end of it.  The reality is: I'll go back in 8 weeks and have another PSA blood test done and we'll re-evaluate.  I'm calling that: 8 weeks of good news.

Having the catheter out is a welcome relief.  Mostly.  The process of taking it out wasn't bad.  Not having it there means that Mr Penis, in conjunction with Mr Bladder, have some relearning to do.  No idea how long that will take, but here's the bright side for you readers: I won't be posting any photos of me in my adult male urinary hygiene products.  I've seen the commercials on TV with women touting "how pretty" their Depends are.  I will spare us all... suffice it to say that I haven't seen any similar commercials for men.

I have homework.  Kegel exercises.  You can look it up if you want, but it is to strengthen the pelvic floor, and help retrain the sphincter that controls the flow of urine.  Yep, it's a pisser. 

No scooter riding for a month.  The surgeon looked moderately horrified when I asked; she explained that I would be "sitting on" where the big cut was.  Not a problem, it wasn't something I feel the need to rush... just like to have a goal to shoot for.  I am cleared to drive a car again starting tomorrow.  I will continue walking, though, to build up strength and stamina.  

It's a process, and I'm going after it.

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After leaving the doctor's office, I got Chick-fil-A.  We made two other stops on the way home, both short.  Still, about an hour and a half to get home.  Hey, I've seen how much urine my bladder produced over the last 10 days.  Some things should not be put off.

 

That was awesome!

 

I don't use that word often... I don't have a better word to describe the launch of the SpaceX SN8 today.

We watched on LabPadre and Space.com as the countdown stopped just short of 2 minutes, but a hold, not an abort.  Then, at 4:45pm, with 3 screens playing on our deck... "Liftoff!"

The rumble of the rocket engines vibrated the railings on the deck; within seconds, we could see it rising over the house across the canal from us...

 This is a big deal for south Texas.  The SpaceX facility here is in its infancy, and it seems like a poor cousin compared to the Cape Canaveral facility, with decades of NASA money poured into it.  And right there in front of us: the Raptor rocket blasting its way towards the 40,000' goal...

As one, then two of the three engines shut down, there was the anticipated plume...

About 4 minutes into this test flight, it began to freefall back towards the SpaceX facility.  We didn't go over to the gathering at the gazebo, but could hear the cheers from the crowd.  Before touchdown, the engines fired again and put the rocket in the landing position.  Right at touchdown...

A feiry explosion.  If you listened to the media, it was a disappointing ending.  The SpaceX officials got all the information they needed on the important parameters of this test flight.  While it may have looked better to the public without the explosion at the end, SpaceX considers this a successful test flight.

Rufus was out on the deck with us - I was surprised that all the noise didn't seem to bother him.  He kept looking up to see what we were looking at.  You could hear the cheer of the folks at the gazebo at liftoff... and then 5 seconds later, the sound of the rocket engines reached us and that's all you could hear.  When the engines shut down, more crowd noise, a cheer and a group "Awwwwww!" before the sound of the explosion reached us.

SpaceX Boca Chica is a real thing.  ;-)

Resting comfortably...

 

Me?  I'm doing fine.  Joan got me some ibuprofen about 2:00am, and that takes the edge off.  But, this is about Rufus...

 

The boy knows how to relax.  That was this morning, after he has had breakfast, gotten some snuggle time with Joan, and comes back into the living room to keep an eye on things.

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A change in Christmas tradition...

Not due to the virus.  Oh, travel concerns have wreaked havoc with having Steph and Dan here for Christmas and our plans to head their way in February and March.  It is going to be a FaceTime kinda Christmas.

My situation has prompted another change in Christmas tradition.  Joan got down wrapping paper so we (and by "we," I mean: "she") can get some things mailed out.  I'm sure this doesn't happen in your dignified households, but every appearance of wrapping paper rolls turns into a cardboard tube sword fight.  Joan held out the tube in my direction and said, "En garde!"

Flinching hurts.  Almost as much as a sneeze.  Just kill me now.  ;-)