Someone asked how I could be so casual in sharing news in It’s Hard To Run With An IV In Your Arm and I just smiled.

Smiled and said we can blame it upon my insouciant nature or indoctrination from my father and grandfather.

When they shove a needle into my liver so they can pull out a sample it won’t be because they think they have grade A top choice meat.

Won’t be for cannibals who hunger for Wilner’s chopped liver either.

It will be to see if the thing is working properly or if there is some sort of issue that needs to be worked out.

My initial question is will they give me some kind of drug that helps me to take a really good nap or will I just be kind of loopy for a while.

If I am going to be loopy I almost want to record myself because god only knows what kind of crazy stories and or questions I’ll come up with.

When you have an active imagination like mine you don’t need much so any thing is possible.

Sometimes Genetics Are Your Best Friend/Enemy

I did some reading about the procedure and some of what they might be looking for and wondered if I know enough to be asking the right questions.

Got me thinking about Twain’s quote because it is easy to scare yourself when you read about possibilities.

It is why I intentionally didn’t get real deep because once I have the results it will make it easier to determine what I need to know and to eliminate things that aren’t relevant.

It also got me thinking again about what a crap shoot life can be. Genetics can be your best friend and your enemy. You don’t get any choices in whether your genes make you into a world class athlete or a petri dish for disease.

Mine could have done better by me by giving me a little more height and a digestive system that was a little tougher.

On the other hand I rarely get sick, I am built like a tank and have little issue moving heavy things. May not have much hair on my head but I have received multiple compliments on my skin and how youthful I still look.

You win some and you lose some. Won’t get too crazy about what I can’t control or get too hung up on whether this means my liver isn’t committed to hanging around for the long haul.

But I will concede I told it to shape the hell out or deal with my kicking its ass. That threat was followed by laughter and a soft voice saying the ass kicking is why we’re having a biopsy.

I snorted and conceded it had a point and went back to doing my thing.

That Is The Truth

A dear friend asked if I was going to let people know about my health and I asked what that is supposed to mean.

“It is true that every day I am one step closer to death but so is everyone else. This is a precautionary measure and unless and until I am told it is really serious I am not going to treat it as anything but a test.”

I added I would be blogging about it because I wanted to memorialize it because that might be useful down the road.

Those who care enough to try to stay abreast of things either communicate with me on a regular basis and or read the blog.

If they aren’t in either group we’ll wait and see what the results show. If I am unhappy with them I may choose to share them or I may change my mind and take down any posts that mention it.

Hard to say which direction I’ll head in and I feel no need to get any deeper into figuring it out than that.

But I will add my father did a pretty good job at collecting all sorts of health issues. I have no intention or desire to follow his lead there.

Dad had many good traits that are worth emulating but that is not one of them.

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This got me thinking about a different blog post I wrote a while back that I’ll insert here because it fits my mood.

Was It Real?

There were moments when he looked at the present, thought about the future and wondered if the moments of the past that he thought influenced the present were other than he had thought they were.

Moments where he wondered if he had a bad case of denial and asked himself what sort of effect that would have upon things. Moments where he looked in the mirror and asked himself to prove that memory wasn’t affected by desire.

And then in the strangest of ways he felt like he got confirmation from a fictional hero, a movie character.

He played the words back in his mind, “It is true, all of it.”

It unlocked a flood of memories of good and bad moments and he didn’t just remember, he knew without a doubt that he was correct.

And then it didn’t matter what happened because he knew that he was on the correct course. Didn’t care whether anyone agreed or disagreed, whether they thought it was hokey or cliche because he was certain.

Didn’t mean that things would work out in any sort of fashion that resembled hopes or dreams but he was ok because he knew that he was following the right path and that was enough.

At the end of the day, when the lights go out and you are left with nothing but your thoughts and dreams, when you dive deep into your mind you have to have that.

That knowledge you did what you did because you were true and honest to yourself and with yourself. Understanding that you are an imperfect being, perhaps chasing perfection but imperfect and fallible.

Each day trying to do better than before with the knowledge that it life is never black and white. When you have that sense of self and you know that you are on your path you can always get back up and keep doing.

Because “It is true, all of it.”