Showing Zeus, the scars

This is about the anniversary of this here blog. Since August is now the horrible month of the year this might as well mark the blog as a full year.A year passes in the twelve months of peril. Oddities of age appear.

Last August. It began with a wrongful eviction from a place just loaded with bed bugs. Ever lived with bed bugs? A Story in itself generates.

Then almost simultaneously I get accused of doing something of persuading my mother not to go and do something. Understand this. This was from a person who lived in a community whose hideous name will not pass into script in this particular blog ever again. (Why? It’s my blog?)

On with this little story Mr. Stargell. Now, this person convinced mother that I always ignored her. Then turns around and accused me of interference. Now, I am six hundred and thirty six miles away or for you modernists, one thousand kilometres away with no home phone no nothing. He’s there. I’m way down here. I get blamed.

Well that absurdity is crowned with the fact that this faux relation states that he… will never talk to me again. So that ended okay. All’s well phrasing erupts in a chorus lifting joyful cliché’s .

So then at the end of that summer month I ate a rather cheap and ripe BBQ Chicken from a Middle Eastern fast food joint and literally almost died. I mean really died No one called. No one visited. Creepy.

Two days after I got released from hospital, my then doctor decides to take my blood pressure and stuff. Gee it was high. Oh why would that be?

So then he decides to put me to lowering cholesterol. That worked. He also gave me some bad news. That there was a 3 in 10 chance that I would die in the next ten years. To some this would present a horror. On the other hand considering my father’s family history with cardiac a 7 in 10 chance is actually really good odds since 98% of them died before 60 years old. Mixed blessings one might say.

Remember I was fighting a very bad left knee that was injured at work several months before. I was trying to get it looked at but the doctor wasn’t helping. It took me until February of this year to get to a specialist who looked at the knee and said Holy Crap and I had a surgery to repair it within a month.

I had to laugh. The doctor who was assigned to me stated that they (a committee of doctors apparently) had decided that they would tangle one thing at a time. The problem was that by the time one thing had been treated it emerged that two more things reared into the lights. Something the federal government’s Auditor General has always found when it came to the doctor run Health System, after 20,000 years of university edjumation, the buggers can’t do simple addition.

The specialist there said that the damaged meniscus and ligaments were repaired by surgery. It’s arthroscopic surgery. I can’t show any scars. You know the scars you can brag about. You know the old gathering around, drunk as a skunk parteés where a surgical victim can roll up the pant leg and point (sort of) to a long scar. Then another loaded gas up, answers challenge by rolling up their pant leg and states pointedly at a super ugly scar segmenting the tendons of the knee “Not as bad as thish here scar!”

Robbed I was of bragging rights. They should have plastic surgeons at every modern knee surgery to install the requisite scars like a tattoo testament to agony.

In victory the doctors crow with the very clause “but we can do nothing for the arthritis that is there.”

Inventory time amucks on a running fit. Now I have a very bad back and arthritic knees. Add chronic to the pain chronology.

So last April in crowning victory on the second problem, he apparently decided to try out problem three in the multiplying medical triage that has been the life’s breath. It was in the record. For the longest time I had seen rifts in my vision on occasions. These little images are actually neat. It starts out in the lower part of my vision and like a shimmering lightening bolt it circles my vision in both eyes. Well off to the Eye Doctor.

Recently, I went to that Ophthalmologist. Which is a long winded polysyllable way of saying "Eye Doctor". It was a referral. And he checked out my actual eyes, the two which are located in the central front of my head. After close rather uncomfortable examination he concluded that it was a “Migraine Aura.” Whoa.

And I had to ask, which I did with concerned presentation and substance in my vocal tone. “You mean I get Migraines… And I never get a headache?”

Official answer from accredited specialist doctor is “Yes.”

Hey, hey, hey. Where is the justice in this world? I got Arthritis but no effective treatment. I get severe Migraines and no headache? Who would’ve known?

So that’s the year of Health. No scars. No headaches. Nothing to show Zeus and other Olympians. Nothing to document in image to you the blog readers. Another year down the toilet whirlpool existence. Enter another twelve months.