I went to the surgeon today. All the tests so far indicate that it was a Seminoma, a cancer of the germ cells, and that there was all localized. He's putting me on a regular series of blood tests-- every six months or so. If the levels ever jump, they'll know it came back.
A Seminoma also means that I still had the testicles of a 25 year old. The prognosis for a guy my age is usually something far worse, a lymphoma. I must have caught it at the earliest possible moment. Now if I could only get ahold of Folically Challenged or Kellory. I need help getting the rest of that 25 year old out of my trunk. He's starting to stink.
But seriously folks.
I have decided to name my departed left nut Bo, after Rooster Cogburn's horse in True Grit. Like that Bo, mine gave me no reason to cuss over 63 years. However, like all dead horses, I'm happy to be rid of him.
I'm back to only annual blood tests after a scare about 7 years ago. At first it was every six months. Take care of yourself Shaman and Be well, RZ.
Socialism is a philosophy of failure, the creed of ignorance, and the gospel of envy. Its inherent virtue is the equal sharing of misery. Winston Churchill.
On more nut-related story, and then I must be off to sleep. It's been a hard day.
So one thing I haven't mentioned is how the general anesthetic has played absolute hell with my brain. It's been a little scary. I had to call out to KYHillChick when I was taking the IBUProfen otherwise, I'd try to take it again 2 minutes later. I've been prone to getting up, going into another room and forgetting why I went in. I know it's just the general anesthetic and it'll be all over with in a week or so.
This AM, I scared myself something fierce. I was awake at 0400 as usual, stopped by my office, picked up my coffee mug, stopped by the bathroom, took a leak, and emptied out the coffee mug before going to the kitchen for my first cup of joe.
Normally, I do not flush overnight, because KYHillChick is a light sleeper. I try my best not to bother her, so I've got a night's worth of #1 in there.
At 0500, I started getting ready for work. I went in the bathroom to take a shower, and . . .
. . .well, I've already give you the punchline. It's just I had no memory of the coffee going into the commode at 0400. Yikes! That was about as scared as I've been in this whole affair. Luckily, I had a bit of ring on the tank lid to jog my memory after a while.
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