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Friday started as a day with no plans. Also, I was called by the CT scan folks, canceled my appointment: an insurance SNAFU meant my current insurance rejected my CT scan (yes, another one), but it was somehow approved by my former insurance. Ugh! My oncologist’s staff has handled the appeals process for this test before and secured approval. My guess is that they miscode it, as it is approved without issue about half the time. More to follow.

I woke before sunrise and rolled over. I rose and found the kitchen (it had not moved) about the time of sunrise (it was frosty, as it was a clear-sky night). I had not assembled coffee the night before, as there was coffee left from the night before. I reheated a cup full and then assembled the coffee, a gift from Jeanne (thanks!), and had coffee all morning. I had, again, forgotten to put out the chocolate croissants to rise from the freezer (someday!).

I started on the blog, and received a call from my next surgeon’s office, and will meet them on Feb 19th to talk about the small non-cancerous tumor in my left salivary gland, a YAMI (Yet-Another-Medical-Issue). I will fit that low-risk surgery somewhere between planned trips.

I made grits for breakfast, creamy with milk, and added some raisins and nuts, but decided they were better just plain with butter. Next time. I cooked only a cup and discovered I had enough for four. I will make 1/2 next time! Breakfast was great.

I still had no results from the MRI after 48 hours. I sent notes and called. By the afternoon, I finally got results. Perfectly boring results. No issue. No new issues. All quiet on the left-ear front, if you like. Looks like the best possible results. No need to start those end-of-life trips (like this around-the-world trip here). Looks like I will be here for a while. Excellent!

Aside: As I see 62 approaching, this was my planned early retirement date, April 17,2026. Nike’s exit package got me here instead. And while those Nike stock options are so far underwater that only an ROV can find them, originally, they would have gotten me here had Nike’s stock price broken $200 as we all expected in those crazy days (don’t look now). The exit package instead worked with my deferred compensation and paid-out vacation. Still, it is exciting to see the plan bear good fruit.

Friday stayed home, and I made lunch: baked chicken thighs (boneless and skinless, seasoned with just salt and pepper) with fried grits as a side, plus steamed green beans from the freezer (not that good). I did the Friday laundry, but again set the dryer on the wrong setting, and the towels were not dry. I ran it again, and within ten minutes I had warm, dry towels. Nice! I finished the next load, but did not fold it yet.

I take apart the first three shelves of the fridge and wash them. I toss old stuff and marvel at the amount of jams I have (most not opened). The oldest date’s expiration date was 2023; I tossed that and a few other questionable items.

Next, Deborah and I remotely watched more of Elsbeth together on Paramount+ and enjoyed the current story and the longer stories that span the season. If you like a brain-cookie version of a crime show and a great lineup of guest-star murderers, this is a good option. And the new villain, Judge Crawford, is actually the husband of the lead. Recommended.

I reheat the pasta and the leftover garlic bread for dinner. I read, decided I needed to celebrate my news, headed to Wildwood Taphouse, had a small black liquid, a brown ale recommended by the bartender, and wrote, taking small sips. I got some pub mix to go with it. But next time I will just go with pretzels.

There was a crowd of men, all likely of Indian descent, some wearing SEC Nike IT shirts and pullovers. I gave up my table as their group grew, and we shook hands. Nike laid them off in June (I retired in the previous year’s layoffs) as the SEC program was closed and outsourced. I wished them well; they were surprised I knew about the SEC (I had the same shirt—donated to Goodwill), and even more surprised when I told them I had been in master data and had done the early conversions. I went back to writing after that, and they kept chatting.

I finished my beer and managed to edit more of my adventure. I was surprised to find glaring typos and mistakes, and I will have to be more careful in my editing. I head out happy to have had the smaller one.

I arrived home without incident (nor was I illegal) and saw the chocolate croissants rising. On Friday, I remembered to put them out to rise. They will be great in the morning (and they were, I had one while writing this). I read for a while, but soon fell asleep early. All the stress for the medical stuff was gone, and I was tired and, as always, a bit let down. A normal feeling when a plan works, and now I am on the other side. But boring is better than a rush to the end. More time with all of you and more plans!

Welcome, dear reader, to the future. Thanks for reading.

Thursday was dominated by lunch and dinner at McMenamins Cedar Hills. The first was my usual lunch with Scott W and Brad, my former boss at the shoe company, who was planning to join us but then felt under the weather. There is a lot of flu going around now, and maybe next time for Brad. Dinner was the Theology Pub meeting for this month, typically on the second Thursday of the month, and now at McMenamins. There, we talked about ‘Acceptance’ and what it means to us.

I rose on Thursday with only one thing on my agenda for the morning: to get to Cedar Hills at 11:30 to meet Scott W. I rose just before sunrise for a partially cloudy day with no rain here in the Pacific Northwest (PNW). The snow pack is at an all-time low, and skiing is not happening this year. The summer melt of snowpack keeps the rivers full and the forests damp, and there is great fear that the dry conditions will soon lead to endless forest fires and smoke. Ugh! We need flooding and rivers of rain! Our prayer in PNW, “Dear Lord, please drop unrelenting rain, floods, and massive snow on us to protect us from a fiery summer! And Lord, we mean here in Oregon, not just Washington State.” Yes, bring it!

I wrote the blog for the next couple of hours. This was not a continuous process. My morning was punctuated by blogging, downloading, and updating Quicken, manually entering the transactions for the sale of stock in Quicken, watching some new shows via late-night comedians, and reading the news. The tragedy and crimes involving Epstein are manifold. The lies of the wealthy, not just Trump, are transparent now, but the consequences are few.

I drank a whole half-pot of coffee from Kalanzoon (a gift from Jeanne, thanks). I had planned to play more of the solo board game Plague of Dracula, but I did not fit it in the morning. I managed to hit the shower, do all that, board Air VW the Gray, and make the restaurant at 11:30.

Scott was there soon, and we had a nice chat about travel, plans, investments (strap in and hold on), and avoiding current events. We tried to stay in our bubble of travel, food, family, and investments to sustain it. It took two beers to stay on topic.

Aside (that game to why writing):

The President’s statement (I watched him say it in his interview) that 10,000’s of arrests should not be ruined by the murder of two people left me stunned. And I remember that thousands have been sent to countries I would have trouble finding on a map (after two beers), and that there are no records to show that they are safe and not murdered and buried in some pit. There is no evidence, one way or the other, that another Holocaust is starting.

Some dishwasher with unpaid parking tickets is now suffering in some unknown place in some foreign land, once our neighbor. They have no family to help them and no way to return to their original country. What would get them sent home, and who would pay for it? Or are they worked to death and then thrown into a pit? Slavery is reborn as deportation.

I cry writing those words, and my soul calls out, “How long?”

Will there be monuments to the folks slain in this process, like those I saw on my trip on slavery and racism? Will some relative of mine walk by this future monument, cry, and wonder how anyone could let this happen so long ago? 

I digress. Back to the narrative.

I returned home in the EV without issues. I read the mail and was going to take a nap (two beers) when Corwin, who knew the door code, walked in. I then made him lunch of pasta, jar pasta sauce, and some browned hamburger. He came early from work, hungry and unhappy. Food fixed that, and it always tastes better when someone else makes it. He went and spent the afternoon delivering food.

The afternoon is a blur of chatting with Deborah, medical things (still no results), and heading back to Cedar Mills for Theology Pub. We had arranged for 14 and got 10 (last time it was the other way). We had a nice group and Dondrea, and I tried their special take on an Old Fashioned. The topic was ‘Acceptance,’ highlighted by Jesus’ moment in the Garden of Gethsemane: “Take this cup away; but not my will, but Thine” (my version).

There was much talk about letting things go and taking the best course of action. That there is a Plan, and we have to remember that. I personally do not find that comforting, having read enough history (current and recent among the worst) and The Lord of the Rings. If it sucks, it does. I did not feel that, as my wife was ill and I was doing chemo, that somehow this was solving some cosmic plan. Again, sucks is sucks. But my lesson was that all I could do was what I thought was best at the time. I would not claim it was ‘right’; it was just available, caused less harm, and might help. That I had to accept my role was mostly to experience, witness, and control my reaction. Tears, anger, and robotic emotionlessness were all bad moments. I learned to accept it and discovered I was helping others who witnessed it, even on my bad days. Being present in the moment, passing through it, and trying to hold it all together was my best witness. To be seen, provide what little harmless help I could supply, and witness and be witnessed was my role.

Sad and disquieted by the topic, I headed home.

I played a few more turns of Plague of Dracula (once again at late night) and began to understand how to play. The rules are that if Lucy, a major character of the original book and movies, is turned into a vampire, it is an automatic loss. I should have rescued her (but having a pistol made her a hazard to Dracula or other fang-bearing threats) from her side of the board. I soon learned there was a card that would get her a bite, and I really needed her somewhere safer. Lucy is the default attacked character.

I had Lucy, well armed, take a shot at clearing her location, and that failed, and she was turned, and I lost. Like in the book, I need to get her to Dr. Seward to protect her. Next time!

I packed the game away. I have cleaning to start. Deborah is here next week (though we may have a change in plans, I learned on Friday while I write this). I head to bed. I read Eric Clines’ book for a while and then put it away, and I close my eyes. I soon fall asleep. No dreams that I remember and no vampires. Just rest.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I keep busy enough with writing, the MRI, gaming with Z, and then starting another game at home. Fitting in eating, and the day disappeared.

I have no results on Thursday morning (when I am writing this), but I have heard from orginal surgeon for my brain tumor, and the tumor in my salivary gland is outside of his work, but he has sent my CT of my neck to another doctor who does this work. I have also heard from friends that they have enjoyed the same tumor. All good. I have a video appointment with my primary doc on Monday.

There was damage on the right side of my brain identified in the previous MRIs, and the MRI will hopefully show no changes in that or any issues in the area where the tumor was removed. Damage is likely old.

I have a CT of my abdomen on Sunday morning to validate that the colon cancer has not returned. It is highly unlikely that it has returned.

The treatment for my rash is working, but it is fading only slowly. The doc said four-weeks to kill it.

I had to make coffee (I’d forgotten to assemble it again), and I was coughing a lot from allergies (the coughing faded as the day went on). I ate the last banana and forgot to put out the chocolate croissants to rise (and forgot them the next night again). The dark liquid (thanks, Jeanne, for the coffee) and the dark comedy of the late-night comedians reminded me that only light can overcome darkness, and we have a long way before our land is known for Justice with Compassion, enlightened. It is hard not to be depressed when the comedians struggle with the darkness.

But one has to go on, and I started assembling a narration of Wednesday. I was not rushed, as I had an appointment at 1 for an MRI at the OHSU Mathew Knight Cancer Center. I wrote a longish blog with a few thoughts and musings. I wrote it not in my usual linear style but assembled it more as a stream of consciousness. Grammarly was on a tear and out of its AI mind, again, and I had to be careful with its improvements. I reread it, and it wasn’t terrible.

Aside: To write a blog every day, you have to accept a certain level of mistakes and wooden wording to get it done in a few hours or less. After years, I am better at it, but still, there are mistakes, and I notice boiler-plates slip in and need to be resisted. I need to tell a story, not demonstrate a format.

I managed to get the blog done, shower, enjoy treating the skin rash (which is responding to the treatment), and all that. I was soon dressed in a T-shirt and headed out. It was already near noon.

Off to Beaverton and headed towards Panea in the general area. It was a short drive there, and soon I was sitting with a half sandwich and soup, the same I had when with Deborah (Deborah later learned that the squash soup has 900 calories!). With soup that should be a dessert and chicken salad, I was ready for the MRI.

I figure that a heavy lunch with drinks was a bad idea before being squeezed into an MRI. I arrived, and soon a tall man in a casual denim sports jacket took me to the MRI. I dropped off my stuff in a locker. I was soon locked into a fence on my head and IV’s. I was about to experience what it was like to be toothpaste, with a cap on and stuffed into a tube. I tried to design a new Dungeons & Dragons adventure, and since I was imagining myself in a diving bell, an underwater adventure. The banging was loud even with earplugs and headphones. It is hard not to panic, but I endured it. The fast-moving air in the tube makes it feel, if you keep your eyes closed, that you are in fresh open spaces. It was only twenty minutes this time; I have done an hour.

With a new design in my mind, slightly dizzy and tired from the stress and relief, I headed back to the house. Air VW the Gray had confused its location and only charged to 80%; it should have charged to 100% at the house, since it has low-cost power there. But I wasn’t headed out on a long trip, and that would work. I believe it only goes to 80% when it is low; I have had to override it before. A charge at higher values goes to 100%. I think it prevents long charging times (I have a mid-level powered charger). I suspect ChatGPT or the manual would tell me that, but I am not that interested.

I rest and have an early dinner. Deborah, who also enjoyed some medical tests, had gotten Taco Bell for dinner, and that made me think I have not done that for a while, and the Mexican Pizza is back. Perfect. I get there, and the screens are the only way to order now, and for a while, I have some trouble as the screen demands a code I do not have (I spot, at the very top, a ‘Skip’ and then it worked), but soon I have a combo with two supreme tacos, Diet Pepsi, and a Mexican Pizza. Yum! And a Time Machine back to the 80s would have you find the exact same flavor at Taco Bell. I ordered a Dorito-based taco to try it. It was sinfully salty and spicy, exactly what it promised, a Dorito taco.

I headed in the EV to the church and was early. I called Deborah, and we just chatted until Dondrea and Z arrived at First United Methodist Church in Beaverton, Oregon. It was nice to just talk.

Z decided on Raider of Scythia, a new favorite. This is a resource management and race game with luck management. Will you risk that raid, its cost, and absorb the damage from the raid? The thrill of beating your opponent to that excellent raid and picking up the dice and throwing them is excellent fun. Next, applying the damage and additions, will you break that 30 point and score nine, or will it be six? Instead of raiding, sliding into two goals, gaining the same points as the raid, and collecting resources while less dramatic, let that Euro-game feel raise. And I forgot to say “Drink deep, Cyrus” when I played a woman leader during my raid on Persia.

Z ended the game with a raid on Greece and missed by two points from winning. We did mangle a few rules, but next time we will get it better. We enjoyed the thrill of throwing the dice and the race to collect resources to raid or to complete a goal. The risk-reward calculations make this an exciting game. Concordia, our other favorite, is a slow build with no real risk management.

The game publisher Gaphill, based in New Zealand, offers other variations of this theme, including one set in Britain with Brits raiding Romans and another set in Asia. All possibilities for a future purchase.

We had to get out a table, kill ants (there back!), and then we put the table and chairs away. Cleaning supplies and bug stuff will be acquired.

We said good night, and the EV had me home soon. I then set up the solo board game Plague of Dracula and played a few turns. I used a piece of plexiglass to flatten the map (I bought it years ago for games with unmouned maps). I like solos lush with rules and complexity, which this game isn’t, but the theme is working, and it seems gothic. I was surprised by how often I went back to the rules with some exceptions (e.g., “if you get a ride in a carriage, was that your turn?”) and found no answer. But on the other hand, three games that cover a similar process or theme have two rulebooks, which made me decide maybe I could work it out. The designer is quite active on Board Game Geek (BGG), and I can get an answer if I wish, I believe.

I did upload my photos of the game to BGG. I printed an updated copy of the rules yesterday.

With a few turns done, I headed to bed, but thought it unwise to play a vampire board game at night and before bed. I was soon asleep.

I woke the next morning, unbitten, no strange dreams, and happy for the sunrise.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

Tuesday started as most do with my alarm waking me way before sunrise, and I slowly rose to find my way; I did sneak in 30 minutes more, but fell asleep only a few minutes before the second alarm (or so it felt). Coffee was not ready as I found the kitchen (it has not moved, but on some days it seems further and a more complex trip) before the timer and pushed the button to start the mechanical summoning of the dark wake-up juice.

The dark flavor (from Kalamazoo and a gift from Jeanne) reminds me of how much work we liberals still have to do to find Justice with Compassion in the USA and keep it. The song reminds us, “We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered.” And hopes soon we will come “Out from the gloomy past, ’til now we stand at last where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.” I stip the better waters and have hope for the future, but sometimes I hear those words, “How long!” Song is here.

But I had little time for thinking about all that was going wrong! I downloaded my transactions into Quicken to keep my investments up to date and ensure they haven’t been captured by the various forces of darkness. Nope, just boring stuff. Bills paid. I then turned to the NY Times for an update on the chaos that is today’s news. Again, teargas is flowing in Portland, this time from ICE. Yesterday, a judge restricted the use of teargas to only life-threatening situations. The videos of children being gassed by ICE seemed to upset the judge.

I read other news, trying to understand Wall Street, with the exception of the goldbugs and silver crazies, everyone is just watching strange waves of up and then down. My IRA balance, held and invested by U.S. Bank Wealth Management, rises and falls like the tide now, a 5% tide. I called my advisor, Sam, and told him I would prefer more exposure to the EU, but that was only a mild suggestion. He and I agreed that it is impossible to understand Wall Street right now, and our conservative play with the tide is best for now. No changes.

I harvested my Ford and JPMorgan stocks and transferred the cash to my savings account at U.S. Bank, which pays a lower rate but is very liquid. I am pushing off the day when I need to withdraw some cash from my IRA to live on (with tax consequences). I plan to give Sam and friends a long window of investment earnings before I need to take some earnings for expenses and travel with Deborah.

Before all the investment stuff, I showered, put on more anti-rash stuff, dressed, and all that, and soon was in Air VW the Gray to Richard’s house in Portland. Beaverton traffic was slow, and Portland drivers were changing lanes with confidence in their faith. Most must have been assured that their soul were in good balance, or the next life was a good option, because some vehicles were driving as if there was nothing to fear. But somehow still being below the speed limit the whole time! I managed to reach Richard’s place without loss of paint on the leased EV.

James arrived a few minutes later, coming from Washington State, and soon we took on the mantle of our characters in the board game Tainted Grail. We were optimistic we would make progress on our chapter (the seemingly never-ending chapter 7, notoriously hard to complete, according to what we have read on the Internet), but we made an error and supported the wrong side. This will not shorten our chapter! We found an area we explored before, but now, with properly updated characters, we can dive deep and make a map. We wandered the game board, playing from 9:30 to 1:30, crossing it twice. Only a little progress was made. But we did get more supplies and further developed our characters. Maybe next game!

We packed up the game, using the manual save process, to return next week. Next, I drove back across Portland, still dodging self-assured “It is good with my soul” drivers on the bridges and ramps. I was filling in for a distracted driver as Mom Wild’s facility (in Michigan) called while I was driving. Mom had fallen and was in the ER.

I listened, then called my sister, who didn’t answer, and sent a note saying she was in a medical thing. I then used the hands-free to send a rather lengthy text. Linda found her way to her mom and soon took over. Mom Wild needs some physical theropy was not badly hurt. Details are not mine to share.

I arrived at home, made lunch-dinner from an insanely spicy lamb vindaloo frozen dinner from Trader Joe’s. I added a dollop of sour cream to ease the pain. It was good.

Laundry was folded and put away. Dishes done. But the choice of cleaning, writing with solo board gaming won out. I wanted a break with some social interaction, too. Off to the local Wildwood Taphouse, but I took smaller-sized beers. I am conscious that I need to buy calories for good value. An average flavored good beer is not enough, I need to buy those calories with something excellent, or not drink it.

A few small groups were meeting and enjoying a few beers. I had been missed, and they were happy to hear I was well. They remembered I was traveling much of the end of 2025, and they remembered Deborah, and they were happy to learn we were still traveling together and happy. Like the song, “everyone knows your name.”

I sat at the bar and edited my Dungeons and Dragons adventure. The base of the text is good now. I am fixing some wooden wording and unclear passages, but it is ready to use. Just more polish. I have to resist Grammarly updates as some usages are game-centric. Lately, it takes out commas and then puts them back; repeat.

I get a few more pages done and finally enter the encounters, the part that is actually played. I added notes about my last play for the next DM. I am thinking of a few improvements to suggest for the last encounter and add some drama. More to follow.

I also read the rules for the board game, Plague of Dracula, one of my new solo games. It uses a deck of cards with a uniform distribution of random numbers instead of dice. This means that luck is much reduced, and there is a discussion in the rule book that the feel of the game will be changed if dice are used (which, while over large usage will generate a uniform distribution, but in small sets can be quite uneven). I later read that the game uses AI-generated art. Hmmm. I used that too for the pictures of my Howard stories, but not sure I should just delete it and make it just text. More Hmmm.

Aside: I have suggested for years that two-person wargamers use a list of computer-generated but perfectly uniformly distributed values and put away the dice. They can make multiple sheets and cross out used numbers. Changing the sheets at major breaks in the game (for example, a new day in a full Gettysburg wargame). One can ‘game’ the list a bit, but if sixty or so numbers per sheet (1-6, ten times, and then randomly mixed) makes this difficult, and keeping the numbers under a sheet of paper to prevent seeing the next one, is all you need to remove most of that.

I finished my two beers, small ones, some pretzels, and let the pay-if-forward wall pay for much of my drinks. Wildwood lets folks pay extra and put the money toward someone else. In my case, there was a colon-rectal cancer survivor $12. I gave a 25% tip on the remaining tab.

At the house, I punched and bagged Plague of Dracula and watched a how-to-play video (with corrections) on Board Game Geek (BGG). I printed out a revised rule set dated only a few days ago. I updated a link in BGG for these rules. I nodded off at one part, but managed to get the general idea. I saw there are quite a few entries on rules, and the game designer, Mike Nagel, is answering them. Excellent.

I make some salami, cheese, and a few crackers for a snack (no dinner), then watch more YouTube videos from the late-night comedians. I get much of my news from this, since doomscrolling is now considered too harmful. The fact that the U.S. Justice Department, in the release of the newest section of the Epstein Files, left naked photos of young women and the names of the victims while blacking out names and photos of Trump (that were obviously him), which is outside the law and rules required, just hurts too much. I hear those words again, “How long?”, Rev 6:10 echoing Psalm 13. Indeed, how long?

I enjoyed a more friendly YouTube and read more rules. Finally tired to go on, and tired of the world, crawled into bed, and felt the warm bed, and slept. I did not wake until sunrise.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

Yet-Another-Medical-Issue or YAMI.

Monday was interrupted with information that I have a small tumor, Warthin or primary parotid neoplasm, in my neck under my jaw, not cancer, and I started the steps to do something (it has to be removed, according to what I read). This is not life-threatening; it is YAMI.

I also managed to get my MRI scheduled (Wednesday) and yet another CT for my abdomen. The MRI is to check that the removed tumor in my brain is still well removed. The CT is to ensure that the cancer tumor in my colon has not spread. Neither is likely to be an issue, but it’s best to check. Maintenance.

I woke before sunrise and had to make coffee (thanks, Jeanne, for the coffee from Kalamazoo). I had another almond croissant, the last of the four I made (one each morning). I started doing laundry, which goes swimmingly in the new machines (I have not heard from LG about them buying back the previous machine).

The morning is a blur with the new medical information and trying to find something normal on Groundhog Day. I reheat my chicken Alfredo and make more pasta, this time cooked through, to add. It was more than I should have eaten, but I felt I needed it. It was excellent.

I read, and I was tired again. I am often tired of late. I suspect it is the weather, all the stress of the medical issues and house stuff, and soon I was sleeping in the chair. Corwin, knowing the house’s passcode, walked in and collected his mail. I offered him ham and cheese to make a sandwich, but it was the last of my bread. I then, wtih Corwin eating and watching, made French-style bread in the bread machine, a small loaf. Corwin also enjoyed a can of Trader Joe’s dolmades.

Corwin went home after that. I have agreed to pay him $500 if he cannot sell his truck and donates it to OPB in my name. He has at his apartments, as only two vehicles are allowed per apartment. I had forgotten about these requirements, and often the banning of any commercial vehicles. Often, friends have trouble parking as there are never enough spots. Something for me to remember if I decide to give up the house. Hmmm.

Next, I remember meeting Joan S for dinner at McMenamins Cedar Hills. We split a large fries. I had a beer and a blackened salmon on a salad. Excellent.  Joan had just a bit of my fish and salad to try it, and some fries.

Joan and I talked about her work experiences and some AI things. We had a pleasant meeting; I also scheduled the Theology Pub for Thursday there (I seemed to be scheduling things all day). There were some folks from Nike at the meeting, all retired (layoffs haven’t stopped), and I said ‘Hi.’ These folks did change control and production support.

Deborah and I talked all day. Deborah was getting a new furnace for her house; she had been cold for a while. We talked all day and said good night when she went to bed.

I also did laundry and set the dryer wrong. I found all the clothing still damp and saw the settings were wrong. The dryer in 13 minutes had everything dry after that. Wow!