So my infliction from a previous post is no better after 5 days of anti-biotics, anti-inflammatory pills, and pain meds. Therefore I had to go see the urologist today. Joy.

The normal doc was not in so his semi-cute PA was handling the workload. Ok, I’m not afraid of female doctors at all. However, after examining my junk she said I needed an ultrasound. That happens tomorrow and I hope to have pictures like when you get sonogram photos of unborn babies. I wonder if they give you a little cardboard frame that says “Your Balls” as that would rock.

Anyway, she left the room for a few minutes and came back with my scripts. This is when it got awkward. She started with the small talk about being exactly 2 days older than me and some other various ramblings. I could not focus on her words cause all I could think was “Why are you telling me this? You, umm…just had my balls in your hands. Stop talking and let me leave before I feel the need to buy you dinner. You just held my balls and now they hurt and I wanna go please.”

I don’t mind some friendly small talk with your doctor, just not right after they hold your junk.

“So do you think somethings wrong with that one doc?”

OK my friends. This is the most prized thing I have right now. Lately I’ve been missing my Dad a bit and when I do I read through his writings, poems, songs, and stuff he left behind. I learn some things about him, his views on the world and trials in his life.

This was something he stuck into his writings for me to find after he passed. I found it and read it to our family and closest family friends at his memorial service. I’m putting it on here to share with you who I call my friends and to give it another place to live on forever. It will also be easier for me to find when I need some energy from him. I only wish it was longer.

I am guessing it was written about 5 years ago and he has been gone for 2.5.

To Patrick  (not a poem)

When you read these words, I will be gone
This is my only way to say them
What I feel for you is love and admiration.
You were the kind of son any man would want
I was so lucky to get you.
You have a good heart and will make a great Dad.
You know the mistakes to look out for
Because I made them with you

I know you will do well in this life
You are still young and well on the way
I am proud and hold you still in my heart
No matter where I am
I will be watching you every day
And helping when I can.

Don’t you ever grieve for me
I am happier where I am
All the pains of my life are past me now
I’m happier here in Paradise
There are no clocks in heaven
The only time is now.
We’ll meet again one day
And I will love you till then.
Dad

It sounds like it’s spelled. Really.

What is it? Painful. In layman’s terms, my balls hurt. Well just one, but it really hurts. As in I took 500mg of vicadin less than an hour ago and it still hurts. It hurts from my armpit all the way down on that side. Look it up on webMD if you want the nasty details. Although nothing there explains how.

Hopefully the antibiotics knock it out or else that means it’s something else and that is scary enough to send me to the mini ER on a Saturday. Which is a cool ass place if you have to go see a doc quickly. Web check in, they call you when you will be seen within 20 minutes and there is a TV in your treatment room. Everything is electronic, docs have tablet PC’s that if the give you a script, they ask where to and fax it to them instantly while you are sitting there. All from the portable computer and for this techie nerd, that was cool!

So now I get 10 days of antibiotics and hopefully never see another doc. If I do need to see more docs for ultrasounds and testing, my blogs will likely take on a whole new meaning. Until then, I’ll be on the couch doing little as even sitting here now has the most annoying hurt. UGH!