Saturday, October 3, 2026

     I am fine today. The procedure goes well and no lumps or bumps are found according to the doctor. NED (no evidence of disease). There will be a pathology report next week. I am tired of being afraid and am ready to be alive again. Fears around cancer just arise and then retreat.

     The Urology clinic is in a new building, Building E at Ryan Ranch. Modern, spacious, loud art on the walls.  Urology and surgery clinics occupy the building. Mostly old men waiting to be seen.  Two old men arrive on transport cots looking very sick. The tall man is with me and we have a lively conversation about agriculture in the Salinas Valley. I am tired of talking about cancer.

     In the afternoon I take a long nap.  I am tired.  I am ready for expanding my interests.

     We watch the first episode of EAST OF EDEN, on Netflix. A dark brooding story of two brothers and a corrupt brutal father. And then more of PLURIBUS a frenetic anger driven story of viruses and aliens. Don’t do much reading. Sleep really well last night and wake up to the barking of the sea lions on the San Carlos beach.  The corrupt president’s barking is disgusting but the sea lions are inspiring.

 

Friday, October 2, 2026

     I live in a quiet subdued neighborhood, mostly old people who have lived here for decades. We hear an occasional dog barking and the crows raising a fuss. The visiting black cat is silent creeping around the yards. The military airplanes fly low over the neighborhood.

      The high school is a block away.  Now the stadium lights for the football field light up the early evening several times a week. The morning announcements occur daily.  The voices are loud but the words are garbled. Cars line up near the school to deposit the kids. Sometimes they walk through the neighborhood on the way to the park. Sometimes a stranger will come down the street and then turn back when the street dead ends.

     This morning, I am up early, getting ready for my 9:30 medical appointment. It is a familiar procedure but I am still nervous. I am one of nine patients today getting the cystoscopy treatment. I am part of a crowd of sick people. The experience fills my whole mind and body, but for the doctor I am just one of many. An uneven relationship. Maybe all relationships are uneven.

     I have been distracted this week and have not read as much as usual.  Still reading THE WEDDING PEOPLE. More books waiting. What I do I really, really want to read next? Tonight, the new series on netflix starts, EAST OF EDEN. I am excited. The boring, stupid, old president rants on and on, as if we are interested in what he has to say. He is giving a bad name to the wise and kind old people I know.

 

Thursday, October 1, 2026

     I get a little carried away at the doctor’s office having my ear wax removed, Time to improve my hearing.  The nurse reports lots of wax in both ears.  She can’t even see the ear drums. She promises me the treatment will not hurt.  No, no it will just feel uncomfortable. So, I sat in the chair while the water is slowly poured into my ear.

     I feel like I am drowning and start feeling I am on a sinking raft in the middle of the ocean with sharks sounding me. The nurse and the assistant laugh and pour more water into the ear. I am a little girl in the raft and I want a lollypop because I am being so good. Oh no, I have reverted back to being a child again. It is so much easier to be a child.  The nurse says the last man having his ears cleaned screamed. I said I didn’t know screaming is allowed.

     In the end my ear wax is very resistant and I am told to come back next week for another try. I agree to return unless my Friday’s cystoscopy says the cancer is back. I am not returning if I have cancer again. The nurse says OK. There is a 50 percent chance of no cancer being found.

     A friend is visiting for two days. She brings her own food and books. We watch the first episode of PLURIBUS on Apple plus. The second time for me.  An intense exciting series. When I can’t sleep last night I got up, turn on my light and read the latest New Yorker for an hour. Does our corrupt president need his ears cleaned so he can hear the screams of outrage in our communities?