Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes!
So, t’was our turn to Celebrate the –6th– Birfday of the Redheaded Nuklear Powered Gran. She hit the marker on this past Tuesday, but appointments and reasons we couldn’t attend the celebration on the day itself.
So today was the throwdown.
Maaan… she’s six
Where in the ever loving hell did the time go???
We took her to an honest to God toy store that’s up in Wesley Chapel… Turtle’s Toys or some such. It was a massive throwback to the ‘old days’ when toy stores still existed. Wasn’t overpriced either. She got to pick out three toys. One from each of us, being Myself, Gretch, and Sapper (who actually ventured out with us, which is unusual as normally Sunday is his busy day at work). The only limitation was $$$ and the ‘type’ of toy… none of that “Bratz” pseudo-slut female gggggggirl dollys or shytte like that Aye?
She actually picked out three very cute and nice toys. One was a Barbie-ish (offbrand, so cheaper Yay!) doll with a wardrobe of clothing and outfits to change into, as well as a princess doll w/ MOAR outfits to change her into, and some coloring book thingy.
Had to talk her out of the $100 Giraffe…
Even if I -did- buy it for her, how the hell was I going to fit it in our itty-bitty Hyundai?
Then, after the toys were handled, it was off to the Main Event.
Literally.
That’s the name of it “Main Event”
It’s a BIG chain like “Dave and Busters” except with more ‘stuff’ to do… Bowling, Pool, Laser Tag, Video Games… a major entertainment complex. We did lunch first, which after she had her pepperoni pizza, (“heavy on the cheese” mind you) she got her birfday dessert:
Oreo Cheesecake…
And nope, there were NO leftovers for Big Papi to have (queue sad face). Once she got done with that, and after she had talked up like everyone in the immediate area, we did the bowling thing. And no shit, she damned near handed ALL of us our asses.
She didn’t use the kid bumpers, but did use what I took to calling the ‘ball launcher’ as she couldn’t really heave the ball. Not even kidding, she got 2nd place out of the four of us playing, and the ONLY reason I won was I got lucky and got a strike. Lil Goober had mad ability compared to the rest of us.
Sapper almost requested the bumpers as his handle came close to being changed to “Gutterball”.
In all reality, we, the adults, were definitely feeling out age(s). I was so stiff, I couldn’t do the traditional “walk up, slide and bend and throw/roll the ball” towards the pins. It was more like “Lurch up to the line, and heave that fucker at warp speed, damn how loud or hard the ball hit when it finally made contact with the alley”…
Sort of a “Hulk SMASH!!!” approach to bowling.
So, that was today. Living life, albeit sore and a wee bit sorry after the fact. As far as the -other- stuff, I greatly appreciate everyone’s comments, concerns and prayers for Gretchen. We still have another round on the Titty-Squisher™ to get comparables so’s we can see what may or may not be going on. Never fear though people, I’m on the case.
I mean I know how to deal with these CancerQuacks.
DeadDad earned that moniker waaay too early due to them pushing the “Regular Treatment Plan” consisting of Loads of Chemo (at $26k a throw, mostly covered by insurance thank God) and Radiation (which left him feeling like shit, and bald AF), and finally, towards the end some surgery.
Seven. Fucking. Years. he had to go through all that shit.
Agony. Miserable. Hating it.
His last year (I was in Iraq) he decided he was done fucking around, and called ENDEX (End of Exercise) on all the shit so’s he had a few months of quality left with MomUnit before he cashed in.
Because of having observing this (from afar, as I was overseas the majority of that shytteshow) and hearing and on the occasion of seeing it (like at FedBros wedding and a couple of other times), when -I- got diagnosed with Stage 3 Lung Cancer, I wasn’t falling for the “standard protocol” bullshit.
Not that they didn’t try that like O’Shytte.
I was lucky and got to be treated at Moffit here in Tampa. When I went in, I was pretty fucking upfront about the treatment plan. ‘Plan A’ was that I told them to cut the whole lower left half of the lung out ASAP.
It took some threats and coercion on my part… I had to explain to the FrogDoc (French Canoehead CancerDoc) that IF he tried to debate me vis-a-vis cutting it out RT-RT (Right There/Right Then) that ‘Plan B’ was that I’d go home, have a couple dozen drinks of Jim Beam to wash down a handful of Oxys, wait 15 mikes, and then have an accident while cleaning my 9mm that just -happens- to blow a large-ish hole thru said afflicted airbag.
Told him if he didn’t believe me, to pull my psyche file from the VA (who Moffit is partnered with surprisingly). Gave him a few days, and whaddya know? They went with ‘Plan A.’
And I’m alive and kickin’ because of it.
Now, I’m praying hard that this’s a false alarm. I’ve become rather fond(le) of Gretchens Hooties. I’d rather -not- have them get fucked up, as that’d be like desecrating a classical artwork…
However, there ARE ways of mitigating the damage. Our good Fren Doc Samizdat is doing some research for me as he’s ‘wired in’ so to speak in that particular field. Can’t thank him or y’all who’ve been helping across the board.
As the title said at the top, life don’t stop… you can’t really let everything keep you down. Right now we’re int he midst of some of the wildest shit that’s been seen in over 200 years here going on, and as the Carnies in Gip-Town say about the spinning wheel, (as a metaphor for life), “Round and round she goes… where she stops, nobody knows!”
“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.“
Ferris Bueller
We’ll see where things end up. I’ll do a bit of a breakdown tomorrow as I’m curious to see what happens after the warmongers in DC have made a call for us to hit Iran again despite the fact that our ‘current day DotMil’ is at it’s lowest and weakest that it’s been since right before the Korean War.
Going to be getting weirder.
Ammo, Weapons, Food, and Frens.
Head on a Swivel
More Later
Big Country
Drove with bro to Commierado to get some of that RSO straight from chemo, just about got us made into road pizza while sailfawn staring.
He hates the Kansas route but I love it and saw a burning bush across from Fort Riley with dude in asbestos fire suit with water tanker as it was already 90 degrees in April.
Was the Dude at the bowl-o-rama? (s/)
Three GAE soldiers killed in drone strike from Syria as Haji says get some Brandon’s 69th rainbow rump rangers.
Scuttlebutt about the Kenyan Queen Barry saying that BiteMe should step down or the CPUSA is done, still checking on whether it is fake as the original link said can’t be displayed.
Keep calm and overwatch the crossing group.
When wife was diagnosed with interductal cancer, her and my response was “Cut it out, tomorrow okay?”
But they made us go to all the quacks. Plastic surgeon… We’re cutting both them off, okay? Okay, see you in a year or two for fixing it up…
Oncologist… We’re cutting both of them off, okay? Okay, wife’s not a candidate for radiation or chemo since she’s partially paralyzed and won’t have the strength to transfer. (Then why the fuck did we see you? Oh, that’s right. Money makes the world go around…)
Hormone doctor (seriously)… Why are we here since she’s getting them hacked off, she’s missing other body parts, her hormones are fucked, she’s got a dead thyroid (that’s a story, a long and bitter story, involving radiation (not the good type) and a company’s malfeasance but it’s hard to prove) and such? Dunno. (Oh, that’s right, money money moooneeey..)
Guide. (seriously, a friggin nurse practitioner who was supposed to be the relay between the obnoxious docs and us and we used her about twice and that was it.)
What they should have scheduled us, but we did it ourselves, was a pharmacist. Walked into/rolled into Ye Olde Publix with list of meds the doomdocs were gonna drop on us and the nice pharmacist did a major shit right there and said “No” to one drug, “Fuck no” to a handful and asked why when wife was on major pain meds were they going to give her low doses of immediate release nothings.
During all this we got to see wife’s pain management doctor and handed him the list and the bastard (a good bastard, conservative as fuck, hates the government, but has a bastardly sense of humor) just broke out laughing and started cursing the whole medical profession (see? he’s a good one.)
Glad you and Gretch have a handle on things. Hope your navigating (it’s what the docs call it) goes relatively smoothly and easily.
As to the boob magler X-ray machine? Eh. I don’t see why womens whine about it so much. I’ve done it, twice, and it’s no big deal. (weird hard patches and soreness and it turned out that I just needed better padding on my armor… Sigh.) Freaked out the tech and the womyns there at the place. Tech was impressed that I could grab my moob and yank it so far so the machine could do the squish thing.
My wifey had cancer but it was “just” thyroid cancer, not a huge deal compared to many kinds, an ugly surgery and now she is on synthroid the rest of her life but all in all, it was better than it could have been.
If your wife’s endocrinologist is up with it, you might try Armour Thyroid. Which is ground up pig thyroids.
Why? Synthroid only provides one of the four thyroid hormones and it’s artificial. T4 which the body converts, through the thyroid, into T3 which does the actual work in the body. Docs don’t know what T1 and T2 are.
Did you get the critical statement out of the above paragraph? If your wife has a barely functioning thyroid that can still convert T4 into T3, synthroid works wonderfully. If you wife’s thyroid is dead or gone, synthroid does dick-all for the body. And then there’s the mysterious T1 and T2 hormones that the thyroid creates but doctors say they do nothing.
Armour thyroid, being ground pig thyroid, has all four thyroid hormones. The mysterious ‘useless’ T1 and T2, the usable T3 and T4.
Your medical insurance won’t cover it but you can buy it on Amazon or from your local health-nut store, maybe.
Again, if your wife’s doctor is willing to try it and you can afford it, it’s worth it to try it. Having thyroid function somewhat restored will help your wife from losing hair or having her hair turn brittle or having dry skin or a host of other issues.
Nice meme.
I don’t often remember dreams? But the night after O’Bumble got himself selected, I told my wife I’d had a very vivid dream. I was standing on Capitol steps, watching the mob hang the entire government, with few exceptions. Up, gone, down, next.
Congratulations on the little lady’s birthday. You folks are doing a great job.
There’s a local prayer works page – if you don’t mind I can get her name (first name only for privacy) and possible conditions up for prayers if you want Let me know if that’s okay by you.
Let it flow bro. We are all watching. Prayers and well wishes, but we know the suck never stops.
Whatever course of action you choose do NOT let them drag their feet. The ugly fact is TIME IS TISSUE. The more time the bigger the tumor will be….. ALWAYS. So build a fire under their ass.
Definitely. Time is cancer growth. The quicker it’s out, the faster she’ll heal.
Glad the kiddo had fun on her birthday, mines just a little bigger, enjoy it
Prayers for Gretchen
That is one terminally cute young lady. Heck, you think you are busy now? Wait till she hits 14 – it is going to be nucular as Jorge Arbusto would say.
Prayers for the Mrs and everyone at Casa Del BCE.
My Dad’s lung cancer was at Stage IV before he was even diagnosed. He did chemo, radiation, all that shit; he was miserable, and it killed him anyway. When I get it (more likely than ‘if’, as I’ve been smoking for 50 years) I ain’t doing any of that shit.
What pisses me off is that they won’t tell you that stage 4 means it has metastasized, spread and you are pretty much f****d.
If you have stage 4 cancer, your odds are very low and anything they do won’t help, will be terribly painful and will probably kill you quicker.
At that stage you are better off going on pain management, work on your bucket list and get your affairs in order.
Most cancers if caught early are treatable and your chances of recovery are pretty good these days. Let it get to stage 3 and then 4, not so much.
hey BCE, check out Febendezole and Ivermectin for cancer for the wife, been lots written about it on the ol internet these days. It’s what id go for instead of the ol usual protocols (except for cutting out, you were smart to go that route with the lung thingy), my old man had 2 lobes taken out in 1980 and lived cancer free till he died of dementia in 2016, he was prob stage 1 or 2, idk if they did the stages thing back then, or just wasnt old enuf to be told that stuff. Kudos on the bday outing, gotta take those wins/make those memories amongst all this.
BCE – retired doc friend up here in north central FL works with cancer patients that everybody else has written off, (Susanne Somers was one of his). Uses natural stuff and diet changes.
Anyhow if you and your women feel like taking a 2 hour drive north to talk to him, drop me an email and I’ll set it up. (Last case he worked pilot had cancer in damn near every organ in his body. Dude’s wife was told at John Hopkins in J-ville that he had three days in hospice and then would be dead. Doc-friend told her to get him out of there and bring him home. Doc kept the guy alive for another 6 months at home with his wife.) He’s a bit of a pain but his shit works.