Pain And Sorrow
Wednesday. To bed at a decent hour, up with the alarm, off to breakfast and back on another cold but sunny morning. It turns out I have an annual followup doctor's appointment at Stanford hospital at eleven-thirty, so a drive to Palo Alto at ten for the interview and the blood test. It's been how long since the prostate was taken? Over ten years? Every year they check and every year so far there's been no sign of “it” coming back.
Actually, my antipathy has more to do with thinking about the drive than any unpleasant results. Palo Alto. They're still digging up the streets around the hospital and I'll undoubtedly get lost.
You could maybe do a little map homework on the web before you set out?
As I've just done. Interesting to see how back-assward I've had it in the past.
Later. Well, a decent drive, forty miles each way, the hospital campus itself all screwed up with construction going on, but at least the road leading in is now finished. A quick interview with the doctor and then a blood test to measure the PSA level. If it's low, it's good; if it's up, it's bad. We will hope for low. We will not think about it until we get the postcard. Or the call.
Arriving home at two in the afternoon I headed for the morning restaurant to have lunch, skirting along the lake when setting out, some local geese taking flight as I was passing. A long lens would have been nice.
Still, a turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich (hold the onions) and coffee, a walk back at three to listen to the news and to pick up the guitar. I've been researching guitar adjustment techniques for some reason, how can you be sure the thing is playing as it should?. Another way to avoid practice?
I have no idea if I've ever really heard it with a proper setup, although I often think my instructor's guitar sounds better than mine. They're both similar quality Strats, why would they be different other than he's the real deal and I'm a beginner who's not been as tight as he would like to be with his lessons? That or maybe the fact he's playing through a different amp.
Evening. Another evening without anything on television. Some attempt to finish one of the movies I've had languishing on Netflix, some progress, but I bailed this evening with about ten minutes remaining to play. You might say not a good endorsement of this particular flick, although there are many I bail on well before this.
You're thinner skinned in your later years?
Less tolerance for all the pain and sorrow.