HEALTH AND AGING
Dealing With Some Aging Insults
As much as we can, anyway
The past year what was supposed to be a routine checkup brought me news of bladder cancer. It turned out to be small and, according to the surgeon after the operation, likely “one and done”. But this year promises followup checks.
My daughter asked why they don’t do scans to check on this. Well, gosh, scans are expensive and there is a ready-made tube in every man’s anatomy where the kindly doc can insert a small camera and push it up, up and away to get a look at my bladder. That’s far less expensive and doesn’t involve more than local anaesthesia.
“Just local?”, I asked. “You mean I’ll be awake?”
The doctor laughed. “Piece of cake. You won’t feel a thing. Well, nothing you can’t handle.”
So reassuring.
Then there’s my sense of smell. Nope, not from COVID, or if it was, I have never experienced even the slightest hint of symptoms in all this time. What we did have was a bathtub rooming house for mice.
The stench was beyond believable. After trying everything else we could think of, I hired someone to rip the mouse house out by its roots and seal all the holes with steel wool infused foam as though we were expecting a miniature zombie attack.
