Today's thoughts

Category: RETIREMENT IS NOT WITHOUT HASSLES (Page 15 of 209)

My day-to-day retirement life

Retirement is not without Hassles: Surgery Sucks #2440

Running was a mixed bag this morning, feeling sluggish and heavy. My ear pods weren’t functioning, so without music I had little distraction from thought. With a pending surgery date of January 15th and the end of this running streak just months away, I felt fortunate to even be running at all. Today was #5,442, and by that date I will have likely progressed from “Experienced” to “Well Versed” on the USRSA site at www.runeveryday.com, having finally surpassed fifteen full years. I will need to check in for surgery at 5:30a, so there will be an early morning “finale” mile, just in case for some reason there is a delay or miracle, and the streak can continue. 

January 15th will conclude 5,496 consecutive days of daily running without fail, placing me at #157 on the all-time retired list. That position will steadily fall as the 225 currently people ahead of me in longevity will eventually face the same fate. Also, the first day I miss others will begin to pass me and almost certainly someone just starting a streak that day will someday beat my total. All records are meant to be broken, even those that are not necessarily anywhere near the top, like mine. For fifteen years I’ve somehow avoided injury, severe illness, lack of motivation, and other circumstances to survive doing this arduous daily task. Ultimately, they will have to stop and start my heart to deter me. 

I once thought that the whole point in running every day was to keep the weight off and avoid the doctor. Obviously, it didn’t work, so for me it apparently all just boiled down to a game of stubborn perseverance. I can’t possibly tell you the number of times that I did not want to take those first steps or nearly stopped mid-stride. Instead, I kept going, day after day, committed to that run and the next. I will surely face the depression of missing that first day, surely convinced that I will somehow be able to rise from the hospital bed and complete another day of this streak. After all, following that “last” run before surgery, I will have until just before midnight that next day to get back on my feet. Then, the next stage of depression will kick in, knowing that it truly will have ended. Am I prepared for this reality? No. Surgery sucks!

Retirement is not without Hassles: Got Gas? #2439

We’ve cut back on auto usage this year, after buying a used golf cart. We just have to carefully check each other’s schedule in operating with only one car. The 2005 Lexus Sc 430 convertible has about 117,000 miles on it, needing a tune-up, boot replacement, and rear struts. Granddaughter Nora calls it the “sweaty car,” stuck in the small back seat where the air conditioning is marginal. To her, the golf cart is the “go cart.” We sold the Toyota Solara convertible, knowing that it needed major work after the long drive from Portland. We will need to rent, borrow my son’s car, or buy a new one before we can carry 3 or 4 full-sized passengers or travel long distances. At least the golf cart holds four adults comfortably and one spoiled dog. 

According to AARP, American Association of Retired People, like me, the national average cost of a gallon of gas today is about $3.88, but it varies, depending on where you live. When I was a kid in the 50s the average price of this basic expense was apparently about 18 cents! I got a 25-cent-per-gallon discount through Circle K and pumped a tank-full of Mid-Grade at $3.23, the lowest I’ve paid this year, even at Costco. The golf cart is plug and go, and we may have it licensed to utilize outside our neighborhood. 

Other cost of living statistics from my childhood (1962) provided by Seek Publishing included average income at $5,556 per year, a new house going for $12, 550, new car $2,924, average rent $110 per month, tuition to Harvard University $1,520 per year, movie ticket for a buck, and a postage stamp for 4-cents. A gallon of milk sold for $1.04 per gallon while bread was 21-cents per loaf, while today bread in the state of Florida averages $3.62. Got Milk? A gallon now sells for $3.97, ten cents more than an equal amount of gasoline and 35-cents more than a loaf of bread. 

We own an all-electric home but use propane for the outdoor kitchen. My wife prefers cooking with gas and was disappointed to find out that our only option here in Islandwalk was to bury a tank. Ironically, she used to handle the media buying for Citizen’s Gas in Indianapolis. She also worked with Coca-Cola that can result in a different kind of gas, if only it too could be bottled. We have a back-up supply, that can be very valuable after a storm. For example, a neighbor was stuck here in Hurricane Ian, while we were safely evacuated on a luxury cruise ship in Alaska. He frantically searched our snowbird-vacant homes for extra tanks to provide generator power and cooking needs during the lengthy power outage that we experienced. We sadly lost most of our freezer food while traveling.

We’ve somehow managed to miss both hurricanes since moving to Florida. During the most recent, Idalia, we were on our way back from Indiana after attending a wedding and funeral. We spent an extra night in Huntsville, Alabama as the storm hit Tallahassee. There were no damage issues with our house.  Before we decided to move here, my son and his family, who lives nearby, evacuated their home for Irma in 2017. They spent a few uncomfortable nights at a nearby schoolhouse, while we worried for their safety back in Portland.

While traveling in Alaska, we visited the site of the Exxon Valdez disaster, spilling 11-million gallons of crude oil into Prince William Sound and the surrounding cities. That was back in 1989, 25-years ago and 14-years after the first section of pipe was laid. Alaska oil production peaked in 1988 at 738 million barrels, providing about 25 percent of U.S. oil production. However, when you see the current state of Valdez, you can’t help but see that this led to severe consequences, while the pipeline has been the subject of years of controversy ever since. More than half the cost of filling-up a car is influenced by the price of crude oil. Oil and gas affect every aspect of our lives, like it or not. Got Gas?

 

Retirement is not without Hassles: The Photographers #2438

There is a tarnished gold trophy that stands about 8 inches high on my office shelf that was a prized possession of my grandfather Hancher. It was once proudly displayed in a glass case in his Elwood, Indiana home that now stands in my son’s living room. The trophy is fairly heavy in weight, unlike today’s awards. It was manufactured by Dodge, Inc. with offices in L.A., Chicago, Newark and Miami as inscribed on the inside of the base. There is one exactly like it on E-Bay for $30. This one was awarded by the Elwood Camera Club in Dec. 1956 for Best of Show Monochrome to Ross A. Hancher.

When I recently mentioned this item to my sister, she immediately asked if she could have it? I might trade her for one of my Grandma’s Emmett Kelly paintings. (See Post #1778). After all, this artwork belongs here in Florida, near where my grandparents had their mobile home in Englewood and near the area where this famous clown once performed. I had my eye on this trophy since I was a kid as an unwilling victim of my grandfather’s beloved hobby. I would spend hours in their Indiana basement where he had a studio set- up. I wore costumes, popped out of a laundry basket like a Jack-in-the-Box, and tried my best to sit still. My only reward is a series of baseball cards prints showing me in a Yankees cap poised with a bat. The rest of the photos he took, I’m not sure what to do with, some flat out embarrassing. 

Back in those days, photography required a great deal of patience handling cumbersome equipment and dangerous chemicals. It needed a willing subject, a steady hand, and hours spent in a dark development room. His basement was actually kind of scary with an old wringer washer, tiny windows, bright lights on stanchions, and a massive furnace that looked haunted. I couldn’t wait to get out of there, but there was always one more photo to take. My grandfather was a man of few words and endless patience, leading to hours of boring silence, much like going fishing with him. 

I would like to think that I was the subject of this award-winning photo. I’m sure I have it in my album collection, but I’m not quite sure which one it is. I’m surprised that my mom did not leave a note as to its whereabouts. She also caught the photo fever to further torment me, transitioning into video. I was apparently very photogenic at least in their eyes, while I became photophobic. She was seemingly never without a camera, recording everything from sunsets and food buffets. It eventually became a retirement business, The Calico Cottage, miniaturizing and framing personal photos for doll houses. Between father and daughter, I never wanted to see another camera my entire life. Then, came the I-Phone.

I have so many family photos in numerous formats, many of which are duplicates. They are in albums, on hard drives, on VHS tapes, CDs, and photo sticks. Now, they are also on my phone, as I have become more photo friendly. No more setup, processing, or storage problems – just point and click. Instant gratification instead of waiting for weeks to see if you got a good shot. In today’s world, we’re all expert photographers. 

 

Retirement is not without Hassles: Moving #2437

I’ve made a lot of moves in life, thirty-two as noted in “My Life by the Numbers Part Two” (Post #2434). The first such move was changing neighborhoods between 5th and 6th grade. I already had been moved, with few belongings, from the adoption home to the Elkhart Indiana, Carolyn Avenue address, but this next action would take me away from my childhood friends, grade school, and familiar surroundings where I grew up. I was about to become a Beardsley Bomber instead of a Rice Krispie. 

I don’t remember a truck coming to pick up our things, or even a sadness about leaving. Many of our familiar neighbors had already moved to “nicer” neighborhood and ours was just across town. I got to pick my room, while my parents finally had a bedroom of their own after sacrificing their comfort on the fold-out couch in the living room. We really needed more space as a family of four. I let my sister have the bigger, corner room with two windows, while I for some reason preferred a smaller space. Maybe it was because I kept a messy room, so it was that much less to pick-up. 

I had to take the bus to school, so I met the new neighbor kids at the stop near our new house. A couple of them were older and bullies, so it wasn’t always pleasant to board. I was used to either walking or being dropped off by my parents. I was also pretty shy, short, and skinny with ears that I had yet to grow into. Everyone at the new school seemed bigger and stronger, and I was in fact too small to play basketball, whereas I had made the team at Rice the years before. I don’t remember ever talking to a girl, now separated from my first crush, Mary Lee Herzberg. I did, however, meet Tim Steffen who has become a lifelong friend. He was more confident and scrappier even with braces on his teeth. My parents were concerned about his fragile stature, a misnomer they would laugh about for years to come. 

Since I was destined to move a lot in the future, this major life change was probably a necessary learning experience. I had some newfound independence from my parents, learned to make friends or tolerate teasing, and somehow adapted to the new school, surroundings, and teachers. I would only be there for a year before moving on to yet another school and Northside Junior High. Finally, it was on to Elkhart High where I would be reunited with the friendships I made at Rice as well a those from Beardsley

I wouldn’t move again until it was time to go to Albion College four years later. I settled in Seton Hall East and then the Sigma Chi Fraternity before transferring to Indiana University midway through my sophomore year. Once again, I packed my bags, left friends behind and moved into Cottage Grove apartments with high school classmate, Alan Harper. We both moved back to Elkhart for the summer, adding more roommates the next year at Colonial Crest – Buzz, J.D., and Murph. Eventually, my wife to be moved in and life became a blur. Marriage and a child were soon to come, along with more moves from apartment-to-apartment, and eventually into the Eagle Lake House, then on to Coverdale Lake. New jobs, friends, and responsibilities soon came to pass. 

The next thing I knew I was in Fort Wayne, living with my mother-in-law in Woodcrest, before my wife at the time and I rented another apartment of our own at Winchester Woods next door to the Clarks. A year or so later, I had accumulated enough trade dollars to afford a nicer place at Candlelight. Without letting the grass grow under my feet, our next transition was to Indianapolis and related moves from the Signature Inn, followed by Pickwick Farms, and ultimately Christiana Lane, while working for WIBC Radio.

Divorce followed next and a new phase of life began with the promotion to a WISH-TV marketing position. Next door with a view from my new office was the former site of the Suemma Coleman Adoption Agency, my first home before these first 17 moves. However, I was only half-way there in terms of relocating. We had just bought a condo at the Jamaica Royale on Siesta Key with a retirement plan in mind, but our separation changed all those dreams. My ex-wife got both the condo and house in the settlement, while I happily arranged for Marriott hotels, apartments at River Run, that smelled like tacos, and Lantern Woods before moving in with my fiancé at her home on Linden Court in Fishers. 

We bought our first home together in Zionsville after eloping to the Bellagio in Las Vegas, compromising on my commute to Lafayette’s WLFI-TV and hers to WISH-TV. It was my first station to manage, while she continued her responsibilities in National and Local Sales. Soon, we would be partners in running WAND-TV in Decatur, Illinois, yet another need for a moving truck. Like previous transitions and more soon to come, we were in temporary corporate housing at both another Signature Inn and Twin Oaks prior to buying #1 Kenwood on Lake Decatur. This turned out to be a mistake as the Illinois real estate market collapsed, the station was sold, and I found myself without a job. More moves!

We traveled the long road from Austin to Portland, following my wife’s job promotions, and eventually to Florida retirement, but not until after making double house payments, selling the Decatur home for much less than we paid, staying in four more apartments, multiple hotels, struggling with moving companies and storage needs, until now finally settled where we are today in Venice. Was #32 the last move? Probably not, but I’ve come a long way, encompassing life in six different states, from Elkhart, Indiana’s Carolyn Avenue to our current Islandwalk Florida neighborhood. Along the way, I’ve made many friends/acquaintances that might not have been possible without that first childhood moving experience. 

Retirement is not without Hassles: Warranties #2436

Warranties have saved me thousands of dollars since buying this new Florida home. We just had a pool light go out just the other day that would have cost $800 or more but was fully covered, just months short of expiration. Furnace repairs have been at a savings thanks to a maintenance agreement and warranty. We’ve had roof damage, refrigerator repairs, and the lanai screens that all were fixed for free. I also have a termite warranty and limited arrangements with other appliances. The lanai screens alone would have been more than $2,000 to repair. However, many of these agreements are beginning to pass their deadlines, so future work may not be as friendly. 

The question is which warranties to buy since you can’t afford to cover everything. Our car is long past its warranty, but I still get e-mails, letters, and phone calls that it may have expired. It’s one of the great jokes of our times and certainly doesn’t help with credibility in deciding whether to buy. There are so many things that can go wrong when you have three refrigerators, washer, dryer, garage door opener, microwave, four TV’s, hot water heater, pool heater & pump, air conditioner (since we don’t have to worry much about heat), oven, dishwasher, garbage disposal, and numerous small appliances/electronics. 

In the past, I’ve found that a homeowner’s warranty can be a real hassle, waiting for service work or parts because you can’t necessarily choose your repair service. I currently don’t have one and may regret this decision. Repairs can destroy a household budget, particularly those of us with fixed, retirement income. Travel and repair costs make me worry about adding a part-time job. This takes all the fun out of retirement. Insurance covers some things, if they don’t nickel and dime you with co-pays, but there’s always a concern about a major setback. The same thing applies to medical insurance, another potential for bankruptcy. I’m learning entirely too much about doctor and hospital costs as I prepare for several surgeries. I never had to worry about this previously, let alone try to budget for the worst. 

I often hold my breath when I start the car or open the refrigerator door. It seems to be Murphy’s Law that the more money you have the more can go wrong, but it would be nice to have more money when things do go wrong. Will the light come on or the engine turn over? Keeping my fingers crossed! In the meantime, I continue to change lightbulbs/filters, perform minor maintenance, and worry, hoping to never get the response that there is no warranty, or it has recently expired. 

Retirement is not without Hassles: Streaks #2435

The New York Times suddenly ended my Wordle streak that had exceeded 200 straight solves. It looks like all my streaks are in jeopardy. Running is now at 5,435 consecutive days and counting, as I await a date for open heart surgery. I always seem to breathe better the day after my weekly Chair Yoga session, as I use the discipline of inhaling and exhaling during my strides. I still have no idea how this heart issue is affecting my performance physically and psychologically. Logically, I should have more energy post-surgery, perhaps to the point where I can start a new streak, as is the case with Wordle. I get the opportunity to start fresh, with now a 100% solve rate after this first puzzle. I was only at 99% in just over 600 attempts.

Tonight, I join a few of the Borrego Boyz at the British Open Pub, while the wives have a book club meeting. Mine got the day off yesterday from substitute teaching but got a call early this morning to come in for work. As a result, Tally and I were up early. She is sitting in my chair hoping for a golf cart ride, but I’m waiting for a neighbor to stop by. He’s taking a box of garage clutter that holds the original two, decorative, outdoor lights that were on each side of our garage door when we moved in 2 1/2 years ago. In an effort to help distinguish our home from the surrounding, similar models, we bought new ones. We were following the lead of the folks across the street, who boldly decided to buck the strict HOA policy of getting board approval before making changes. It became the talk of the neighborhood, with one neighbor who jokingly placed an insistent phone call, impersonating a Mr. White from the homeowner’s association. We really weren’t sure if they honestly might force him to restore the original uniform lights, so I kept my lanterns just in case. I think it’s been long enough now that they are no longer an issue, so I can safely pass them down to someone else. 

Tonight begins an exhausting streak of social activities that extends through the entire weekend. We’ll be dining out or entertaining each night. School is closed next week for the Thanksgiving holiday, so we’ll both get a break. Then, we’ll celebrate with a group of friends at Flynn’s in downtown Venice for a turkey dinner, kicking off the Ho-Ho-Ho season. December will tell the tale of my heart, allowing enough time to recuperate from the surgery to make the Cross-Atlantic Viking cruise in mid-March. Life goes on while streaks may not. 

Retirement is not without Hassles: Life by the Numbers – Part Two #2434

I Love keeping lists and have kept a diary for the last 25-years, so it’s hard to argue the accuracy of my life data. This history is admittedly all about bragging rights, but a good way to summarize my amazing life at age 72. Hopefully, I can add to my list as time goes on. It is impossible to account for all the fine dining establishments I’ve frequented or all the movies and books that I’ve read. The countdown from a million to zero starts here:


Done at least 1,000,000 lifetime pushups. 

Countless Marriott Points used.

Logged over 16,000 lifetime running miles.

Achieved 5,500+ consecutive running days.

Written over 1000 poems.

Attended over 350 Sporting events.

Purchased 340 Limoges Boxes.

Saw over 300 Concerts.

Own 275 Sherm Lollar related collectables.

Watched over 200 Broadway Musicals.

Weigh 195 pounds. 

Have 210 Shohei Ohtani baseball cards for sale.

Own more than 150 pairs of cuff links.

Visited over 125 wineries and a couple distilleries.

100-Plus Toastmaster Speeches given to earn DTM.

Enjoyed 72 years of life and still counting.

49 States traveled, so far.

37 Baseball Stadiums (including Minor League).

35 Countries*

Moved 32 times.

Snow Skied at 26 Resorts.

27 visits to Disney/Universal.

Over 20 Racetracks.

15 times to Vegas.

11 times to Hawaii.

Sold ads on 10 different radio stations and 4 print publications.

Attended 9 Final Fours and 2 Maui Classics.

Only 9 cars owned, plus a snowmobile and golf cart.

Bought 8 different homes in Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Texas, Oregon, and Florida.

7 Cruises (5 Ocean 2 River).

Played in 6 different organized sports but not well.

6 Continents*

6 Dogs.

5 times to Italy and France.

4 Cats.

Worked at 3 TV Stations (ran 2)

Wrote 3 Unpublished Novels.

Studied at 3 Colleges to earn Marketing B.S.

3 Grandchildren nearby.

2 Marriages.

2 Marathons.

2 Grade schools.

2 Stepdaughters.

2 Cubs World Series games.

2 White Sox World Series games.

Attended Albion College and Indiana University.

1 College World Series

Pledged 1 Fraternity (Sigma Chi)

1 Son.

0 Super Bowls.

 

*includes 2024 Cross-Atlantic Cruise.

 

 

 

Retirement is not without Hassles: Fate #2433

When I look back on my life, there were people that I met and circumstances that I somehow avoided – choices that have shaped my life. The other night I was watching a production of NAM, an interactive musical about the Vietnam War that a neighbor produced. It included the Creedence Clearwater song, “Fortunate Son” that reminded me how much life would be different today if I had gone into the service instead of college. Many of my friends had no choice, while I had a deferment and high draft number. Some of them died, were injured, or suffered life-altering trauma. I often feel a sense of guilt when I hear war stories or as I sit while others stand to be recognized for their bravery. Those who did serve developed an enviable comradery, a brotherhood of commonality. Only they know the real truth about what happened over there. 

If I had served, I would probably have had a different career, a different wife/family, different friends, and a different outlook on life. However, I realize that I could have died without having any of these things. It’s a twist of fate that I can’t help but think about. There were other forks in the road of life for me like adoption, changing schools & jobs, and meeting certain people along the way. I’m lucky to have friends that date back to childhood, grade school, high school, college, and work. Was meeting these people coincidence or fate?

In moving to Florida, I left all my friends behind, but it was fate that led us to settling in a community near my son and his family. I’ve also made many new acquaintances here in the neighborhood, but there are two examples that really stand out as being fateful. The first came at a neighborhood get together just as we moved here. The name “Foust” stood out on a nametag, and I asked if he had relatives in Indiana. “I’m from Indiana,” he replied, and we slowly put together our Hoosier connection. My birth name of Banister has ties to the Foust family, and we found to be indeed DNA relatives. I now refer to him as “cousin.”

The second recent fateful encounter came at the NAM presentation, but started months ago when I was wearing an orange, Oregon State College World Series t-shirt. A woman spotted it and said her daughter went to Oregon State. We then coincidentally ran into her and her husband at a secluded beachfront state park. All I knew about him was a Kansas City Chiefs connection but the encounter at the beach led to further conversation. While waiting for NAM to start I found out he was a Sigma Chi at Pittsburg College and had a fraternity brother coming into town for the weekend. A few days later, I decided to take them a bottle of Sigma Chi wine that I bought years ago from a Napa Valley/Russian River supplier. To make a long story short, in going into his man cave, I quickly discovered that we had a common interest in baseball and card collecting, a bond that I had with some friends in Portland that I really miss. We made plans to go together to an upcoming baseball card show that we both attended as strangers to each other last year. It will be fun to watch this new friendship grow – whether fate of coincidence?  

Retirement is not without Hassles: Bosch is Back #2432

Bosch is back on Prime with new episodes. My excitement is a product of retirement boredom. My wife is busy substitute teaching, so we’re not getting our weekly movie fix, a waste of our Regal Theater subscription that allows us to see unlimited shows or none at all. We were planning to see Killers of the Flower Moon, but that will be on Apple TV soon. Napoleon is the next big release on Thanksgiving. We also just watched All the Light We Cannot See, an excellent made-for-television production. Bosch, however, is one of my favorite books and now TV series. I also just bought the latest Michael Connelly thriller, Resurrection Walk about the Lincoln Lawyer, another favorite video series on Prime

I pay too much for TV, especially considering that portions of my career were spent selling advertising that once made free TV possible. Now, in many cases you pay for cable and a streaming service plus still have to endure the commercials. The good old days are gone! A show like Yellowstone that gained popularity through Paramount streaming is now available on CBS, but without the foul language and nude scenes that made Beth’s role thanks to the FCC. If I wanted, I could get this censured version for free on my guest room TV that uses an antenna, but instead I watch it through Xfinity that the HOA provides. TV is much more complicated than just turning it on and choosing between the three available networks, as it was in the beginning. 

I was so bored the other afternoon that I had Yellowstone running in background while spending hours sorting baseball cards. It was actually reminiscent of childhood. However, there is no bubblegum smell with the cards I buy these days. I am preparing to sell several player collections along with my coins, both lifelong pursuits. It’s time to pass these along to future generations. As my running streak inevitably comes to an end, I’ll need to find new ways to occupy my mind. 

I’m bored though crazy busy, craving something that’s more constructive. I’m not yet sure what it is but recovery time after open heart surgery will give me plenty of time to think. In addition to sedentary sports and movie viewing, over just the span of just two weeks, we will have had house guests, gone to a granddaughter’s dance recital, taken two boat rides, and sat through a mediocre Carole King tribute. We’re off to a NAM musical tonight, a Duke’s of Brinkley concert tomorrow, and giving three dinner parties next week. I’ve added a Borrego Boyz pub night while my wife has her book club meeting. Once again, there won’t be time for a trip to the movie theater or even to watch Hieronymus Bosch

Retirement is not without Hassles: To Pee or not to Pee? #2431

To pee or not to pee? – that is the question! The answer is easy but the road to finding a solution to my prostrate problem has been frustrating. The first urologist I went to lasted only a few months, eventually closing his Elite Urology office here in Venice after losing some key members of his staff. He convinced me that the best course of action was to participate a clinical study for a device called a “butterfly.” The procedure had been perfected in Israel and they were looking for patient results that would allow them to get FDA approval here in the states. It made sense to me, plus I was to be paid. However, soon after signing me up, he abandoned the project here locally, offering the nearest option to be Advanced Urology in St. Petersburg. It was a long drive, but I was a willing subject after already wasting the first three months waiting to get involved. 

I did all the testing over again, both written and clinical, encouraged that I would be accepted to participate. Many embarrassing and invasive probes were made in the process. A surgery date for tomorrow was eventually scheduled, but I would not know if I would get the actual device or a placebo, so much needed relief was not guaranteed. I’ve spent the last year with constant urges to pee all day long and annoying back-to-back-one-and-a-half hour naps each night before another trip to the john. When out and about, I never walk by a restroom without stopping. I was envious of a neighbor who now claims to “pee like a teenager” after his recent surgery.

Dribbling like I often do should only be done on the basketball court, and a painful bladder often results in only a thimble full of output. Even the possibility of getting this device kept me content these past few months, knowing that in no longer than three months later, I would get the actual surgery should I be the unlucky recipient of a caterpillar rather than a butterfly. However, late last week, I was notified that there was a .01% discrepancy in my written tests. I could not believe that these subjective answers on how often I go could possibly disqualify me from the study. As a result, no surgery and no compensation!

I can only laugh because with two strikes against this clinical test, maybe something could have gone wrong in surgery? I’m convinced that the whole thing was a sham and just not to be, maybe in my best interest. However, I’m still in bladder hell, with a need to find a new urologist and optional procedure. I’ll know more at the end of this month when I find out the status of my heart surgery. In the meantime, I will continue to suffer before, during, and after another trip to the toilet. To pee or not to pee – I wonder if Shakespeare had a similar problem? I paraphrase: Whether ’tis nobler in the prostrate to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous pressure, or to take Arms against a Sea of bladder troubles, and by opposing end them: to die, to sleep no more. 

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