Hot Dogs, Doctors, and a Door

It’s been a busy couple of weeks for the Taylors. Diane went to Texas and saw the Stevenson family which includes grandsons Luke and James. Jennifer is in her 32nd week and due with son #3 in early June--all very exciting. Ruth, Diane’s sister, flew from Denver to Corpus to surprise the Stevensons. From all reports, they had a blast. After Texas, Diane flew into Midway where I picked her up, and we spent a delightful weekend visiting her parents, Paul and Marsha, and then sons Ryan and Gordon and daughter-in-law Lisa--lots of laughs and stories when this group gets together.

While Diane was on her travels, I kept busy as well. I mentioned in an earlier blog that I went to a hockey game in Peoria but failed to mention that I ate a hot dog, bun and all. That may not seem like much to you, but to me it was a VERY big deal. I love hot dogs in spite of what is in them, and it had been over a year since I could even think about consuming one, but I did it. Now, it wasn’t pretty, but mission accomplished.

I am hopefully done with doctors for a while. Within the past two weeks I started out with a complete physical and blood workup and everything looks good--low cholesterol, high HDL, low LDL, and low prostate score (important to men). Diane left town so I got the bright idea to schedule a stress test and colonoscopy ON THE SAME DAY. It was recommended that I do both, but on the same day and with Diane in Texas was a bit bold. Of course, with the Gordy Taylor School of Questionable Reasoning, it made perfect sense. They wanted me to fast before the stress test, and we all know what needs to be done before they look into your colon so Sunday evening the 10th of April my activities were rather restricted. Monday the 11th went well. I passed the stress test with flying colors and colonoscopy clear except one small insignificant polyp so I am clear for 10 years.

That, my friends, leads us to “the door.” A little strange humor has returned to our lives. It was a year ago that I got my tube, and I started treatment on the 22nd of April so it has been quite a 12 months. I have survived, I feel good, I’m getting stronger, life is good, but things happen. On the night prior to Diane’s departure for Corpus Christi, I was talking on the cell phone when I turned the corner and entered our bedroom NOT noticing that the door was open. I walked smack into the corner of it and as I proceeded to the bathroom to “check damages,” I felt warmth come across my face. I looked in the mirror and was bleeding like a “stuck pig” with a one-inch gash on my forehead. I started laughing to which Diane exclaimed, “What’s so funny, you could bleed to death” to which I replied, “How could I endure all the challenges of the last year and then have this happen?” It was surreal and oddly humorous to me. I told Dr. Diane that the bleeding would stop but the good doctor insisted we go to the emergency room where they literally glued my forehead back together. How could I be so stupid? I’ve heard of people who can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, but I am the first person I know who is clearly unable to talk on the phone and not walk into things at the same time.

My humorous travails manifested themselves again yesterday on our return to Macomb from Chicago. We stopped to see our friend in the Dixon Correctional Center, and I treated to lunch which means using a prepaid card to access a variety of vending machines adjacent to the visiting area. Diane opted for Doritos and a Dove bar, our friend had a steak sandwich and Klondike bar and Mr. Hot Dog chose, naturally, that. I walked up to the machine that dispenses food and proudly pushed a couple of buttons. Out came my very own Jalapeno Polish Sausage instead of a plain hot dog. I couldn’t believe it, but not to be deterred, after 9 packages of catsup the JPS was consumed along with copious amounts of water.

I continue to improve daily and am proud to announce that in a very small way, I can actually taste some things. I even jogged two miles outside last week--slow and not very graceful, but I did it. We are at the ten-month point into recovery, so we shall see where the next couple of months take us. The adventure continues. I shall attempt to exit the room now without hitting my head.