Through Another Lens
Thursday. The heart scan came in the mail today. I assume I'll be talking with the doctor about it tomorrow or early next week. Basically is says change your ways or you're not going to like it later in life as there will be no later in life. So I'll do what they suggest, even, I'm afraid, to the point of giving up weekend eggs over easy for breakfast. And start taking some of those pills they advertise on television, the one's they've recently discovered not only lower your cholesterol, but turn some of your more necessary organs into mush. No pain, no gain. Ah, well. I didn't order that telephoto lens this week, but now I think Monday.
Friday. So, undaunted, I went to my dermatologist appointment, thinking, well this rash, this skin condition on my back that my doctor talked about - I really don't notice much of anything in the mirror - can't be any big deal, but my doctor suggested that I have it looked at and he's been on a roll lately. He's the one who noticed my PSA's were high and I should see an urologist - prostate biopsy, nothing found, come back again in three months - and it was my cardiologist who suggested the heart scan - ouch!, I suppose - and now the dermatologist, who said, well, "You have some moles on your back. I suggest we take four of them off, starting with the first two on, say Monday?" Hmmmmm. I'm feeling less enthusiastic about seeing any more doctors. Monday they take two moles off my back with something he described as a "cookie cutter", sew them up and check them out for, well, the usual suspect. I feel like a god damned biology experiment.
When I returned to the office we were having a birthday celebration for three of my coworkers in the server lab, two bottles of sparkling wine and three birthday cakes. Cake and sparking wine for lunch. Suddenly I was feeling better and dialed into the photo store on the computer at my desk and ordered the telephoto lens. The f 2.8 180. I should have ordered it earlier so I could use it this weekend to shoot the Solano Stroll, a parade and street festival that traditionally marks (for me) the end of the festival - parade season that won't start again until the Chinese New Year parade next (I think) February.
No more talk about my health. All of the stuff they've turned up, so far, has a resolution. For my father and his father that wasn't true. Hardening of the arteries? Well, it's just something that happens inside there somewhere, no way to tell until you fall down go boom. Prostate cancer? Too bad we couldn't have caught it sooner before it spread to your lungs and your liver and your eyeballs and your socks and your shoes. Moles that turned black and ugly? Not good, not good. Today? Well, today most people just drive right on by and live for another ripe old number of years. I'm looking forward to some of those ripe old photographically active years and I'm going to get on with them. You can never tell when your next photograph will be your last, so you might, as well as not, shoot it through another (expensive, not really needed, 180mm, ordered it today, made by a Japanese camera company, telephoto) lens.
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