WEEKENDS ARE FOR FUN: COOLER THAN YOU

My dad is a design and engineering prodigy. He is one of those naturals who never completed school, knows nothing of theory and equation, yet instinctively understands the properties of the materials he works with. Not only that, but the things he builds are beautiful in themselves. When I was a teenager he took an old stingray bicycle and rebuilt it "chopper" style. He did this simply to showcase the fiberglass seats, tanks and fenders he'd created as bolt-on accessories for bicycles. Below is a photo of that Chopper-Style bike.

Yep, my dad was and is the epitome of cool.

BULWER-LYTTON AWARDS

The Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is an annual competition for the worst opening sentence of a novel. The award was inspired by Nineteenth Century novelist Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, from the notorious opening line of his novel PAUL CLIFFORD.

“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.” — Edward George Bulwer-Lytton (1830)

2011's winning line was: "Cheryl’s mind turned like the vanes of a wind-powered turbine, chopping her sparrow-like thoughts into bloody pieces that fell onto a growing pile of forgotten memories." — Sue Fondrie, Oshkosh, WI

However, I also liked this line in my personally-favorite category of Adventure Fiction: "From the limbs of ancient live oaks moccasins hung like fat black sausages – which are sometimes called boudin noir, black pudding or blood pudding, though why anyone would refer to a sausage as pudding is hard to understand and it is even more difficult to divine why a person would knowingly eat something made from dried blood in the first place – but be that as it may, our tale is of voodoo and foul murder, not disgusting food." — Jack Barry, Shelby, NC 

My all-time favorite, from Mystery Fiction remains: "Like an overripe beefsteak tomato rimmed with cottage cheese, the corpulent remains of Santa Claus lay dead on the hotel floor."

What about you? Think you have the right stuff to be a contender? Here's mine: "Agent Nick Tempus cringed as a high-powered bullet punched through the rear window of his speeding Dodge Charger, whizzed past his head and shattered the windshield, wishing he'd signed up for a lower insurance deductible."

AVAST THERE, ME HEARTIES!

I'm officially a Pirate: and I have the sunken chest to prove it.

I came home from the hospital yesterday. The surgery went well. Doc says he got everything, no surprises. Waiting on the pathological report of the lymph nodes. Surprisingly, I have had very little pain. Sometimes when I move I can feel the sutures pull, but I quickly stop any such movement. I have almost full use of my right arm. I do not put any weight on it, but I can hold a coffee cup, which is a great comfort.

I'll see my doctor on the 28th for a Post-Operation review. He expects to remove one of my two drains that day. Chemo-therapy begins in about three weeks. It will be intravenous, so I expect to lose my hair. I've decided to simply get a buzz cut at my next appointment. Good thing for me I like to wear hats.

IT IS TIME

Off to the hospital for surgery. More to come.

BLESSED FRIENDS

People all all over the world have told me they are praying for my up-coming cancer surgery on Wednesday. Thank you all for the humbling blessings. My friend Rabbi Ben-Zion (pronounced Bent-Zeeown) Kravitz even had a friend in Jerusalem place a prayer in the Wailing Wall on my behalf. For those who don't know, the "wall" is actually all that's left of the foundation of the third Temple, rebuilt in a grand scale by Herod the Great during the time of Jesus. Following is a video from last summer when he personally placed my prayer for the peace of Jerusalem in the recesses of the ancient wall.

JARS OF CLAY

My last message before surgery...

CELEBRATING DADS

Happy Day, Bros!

SIT-REP; SATURDAY MORNING

Met my Oncologist yesterday; a very compassionate man. His opinion is that my tumor is at stage Stage IIB: that means it is less than 5centemeters and at least one lymph node has been affected. They will know for sure only during the surgery. However, this is the third diagnosis and they all agree. I find that encouraging.

The expected course of chemo-therapy follows:
1. therapy to begin three to four weeks post-operation
2. chemo-therapy will be administered via a jazzy, robotic-type plug implant, every two weeks
3. Chemo-therapy will continue for eight weeks
4. Re-evaluation

Had blood work done for the Oncologist yesterday as well. Got the results already--I SO love the internet. All the results are well within the ordinary range. Thank you, Lord.

I'm expecting Mom, Dad and two Aunts to arrive on Tuesday.

NEXT: Round Two, surgery on Wednesday the 20th.

THE ROLLER-COASTER OF LIFE

...Personally, I prefer the Shooting Gallery.

SIT-REP; WEDNESDAY EVENING

Had a treadmill stress test today. Walked for about ten minutes at increasing grades and speeds. Kept my breathing steady the whole time and walked until they said they were done. I think I surprised them.

MOMENTS OF HUMOR

* Following the biopsy the nurse said; "Since you didn't wear a bra today, Mr. Patterson, we'll use an ace bandage to hold the ice packs in place."

* Everyone tells me, "men get breast cancer, too." I thought of that last night as I studied my assigned reading, "Women's Guide to Breast Cancer." Why isn't it simply, "Guide to Breast Cancer"?

* "I want to know how you're doing; be sure to keep me abreast."