Intentional delay.

In bed early means waking up early. Not too early, maybe five til seven. Then the usual routine until pills and in the shower at 8:45, back downstairs to, almost my chair. Rather, I moved everything… half a dozen items, from the end table by the chair over to the writing desk.

Four and some hours working on the book. At this point, I think I’m almost starting over again, with the editing/publishing part. I thought I had it all figured out with a program on my Mac, yet that still needed to export that to Kindle Create on my standup Windows desktop, the interface was not working well on my Mac’s screen size. That was all going well to upload the the KDP site, and an ebook was quick, cover created, free isbn ready (or actually isn’t needed for an ebook alone,) to be inserted by them for the softcover too.

Yet, for a paperback book, it requires a different format, which can’t be correctly- automatically- made from from the epub files I was then working with. Hence, was it yesterday, the day before? I exported that final file back into Pages on my Mac, now, more annoying file glitches to be fixed, yet now… Wow, seeing laid out as open-face book, adding page numbers and my URL.

And best, a few surprises, new writing today that I won’t say. I’ve decided that some things will stay just in my books. Not much, exclusively like that, yet always, audience. The one I write to here is, well, one might say I’m writing to the entire known world at all points past this moment in time. Someone that has picked up my book, that person has consented. Had more spaghetti for lunch. I kept watching the clock, Urology appointment with Doctor Burks at 2:20pm.

He mutually claims two things, that to me clearly indicated I should cast some doubt in this man. I know he is a Doctor, and if he is a fake, he’s been holding down the fort since last year. However, at the same, I wasn’t going to let him go as far as the MA did. I suppose, at the very least a years worth of experience is all that matters in some. However he puts off a calm and humorous demeanor that alludes to the fact that he’s been doing this a very long time… never know, could be a fake. In all that experience he says I’m the first patient he’s had that pierced their bladder with their non-compound femur.

Let’s just say (I like phrases like that, sometimes,) I kept my eyes on him the whole time, determined to catch any errors. I had to keep my ears and my eyes open wide. He had an old school trick (aka, didn’t find a laptop with the jacket in the lunch room,) a clipboard with a bunch of random papers and a fresh print of my charts on top (likely off the top of a nurses desk.) We greeted and it was pleasant. He started by asking me how I was, open ended. It doesn’t take long for me to get lost in the sight of my own words; so I’ll just stop.

I was impressed, the conversation segwayed as he asked me more questions, odd things for a random curiosity. How many times did you pee before you got here? Really, is that the same as yesterday, what about when you sleep? What kind of fake Doctor picks Urology? Seriously though, mere words could not describe the complete interaction, so why bother trying at all? I suppose that is the point of story telling- to tell the best story:

We shared hopes and dreams in the room, bright promises and memories of the first time we met. We smiled and laughed and told the stories since we saw each other last. At one point, he held my penis, my hand against the back of the wall. A thousand words can paint a picture, and some stories cannot be begun with a million. True love tells me, our intersection was not random, this Doctor, I am meant to trust. That is humanity, some people you meet in a doctors office while some dude has your dick in their hand.

He’s on my good list now, he knows things about me. He still might be cheating, I caught him taking notes. Then, he couldn’t even remember what I said until he quoted off his page, more checks and scribbles. I tried to test him a few times and he flipped to the bottom of the stack and started quoting us from last year.

I do really like MD’s, maybe this is another TBI trip and I’ve watched so much Doogie Howser, ER, Dr. House and every other show that interacts with this vocabulary, after a while you can start to cancel stuff out. So much so, I think I’m starting to learn enough medical terminology that I can conduct a professional conversation (says TBI guy.) If you really think about it, we are all caterpillars, and we all are growing into beautiful butterflies. This guy is now quizzing me about my other doctors and the muscle spasms affecting my symptoms.

Of course, some caterpillars shelter themselves and it’s hard to see them hiding under a white coat, others are so spectacular their whole story could not be told with blog twice the size of my own. Yet, every man can dream. Smiles and grins, we all knew me, and he is going to help us learn. It’s been one pill at night since the tube came out, now I’ve graduated to another in the morning. Or… he’s trying to get me hooked on drugs to make me come back and see him… or… maybe, sometimes I make up parts of some stories.

Sometimes, fiction is more true than anything I could finish writing. Effort, effort is required to use Fiction for good. It doesn’t help you stay on the wall, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. The fiction? If the fiction exists then how is it fiction- it exists.

Let’s just say I picked up a billion page book- start to finish, one human persons whole life story. Holding this book, reading this book, knowing this book, eventually I would be loving this book, the ups, the downs, the humanity. Let’s just say I could even read such a book, if I could even remember the beginning once I had reached the end, let’s just say I could and that I read it in an instant.

Love would be the only result. Now knowing the entire book, I would of course (Shrek moment, I love it,) want to be in it. However, that is not how books work. You don’t only love the main character, it’s so easy to put yourself in their shoes or anywhere else. Pick a character, read a chapter, pull out your bookmark and go to bed.

Fourteen to sixteen times a day, I suppose that is more that usual. However, I actually do daydream even more than I pee. He never asked how often I drink Tea. Almost two am. Fiction is harder, so much harder and somehow, so much more true. I like Dr. Burks, I have feeling I’ll know him long enough that I’ll start to vouch for him myself.

That was a good doctor visit, when you get a chance to read a book like that, oh, it’s okay to have a bit part.

I even got a hug.

I can’t even, OMG.

Sometimes, you have to walk away. Straight to gas station to send $2 to the next billion dollar lotto winner. I’ve always said I would fix every stray cat in town if I won the lotto and I never knew how I was going to do it, now I know. $35,000 or less. Maybe double, in any case we’re talking decibels and not earthquakes.

Across the corner was the Corona Smokeshop, as planned I stopped in looking for a pipe reamer. The pipe I bought in Ruidoso has been working great and I really liked the width of the bowl. However, it’s been filling up with a carbon layer too thick for me to safely remove with my pipe tool. A quick stop inside… yet, this is Jackson, I don’t often go anywhere without seeing someone I know. I never would have picked him out and by time we got to the register he asked if I was my son’s dad.

Such a coincidence to meet some one that used to go to school with my son. We ended up talking for a while, and Alex is hard name for me to forget. He liked the video, we talked about my impact. I turned back just as I was walking out the door, and knowing some of his past I asked if he’d been to Mass lately. His face lit up brightly, then went dim, I’m sure I mimicked. He paused and I raised an eyebrow.

He told me he should go to Mass more often, and looked down and said he gets pretty busy. Looking back up at me he continued on, and he said that he is working on making that a priority too. I believe him. He was quick to jump back to the bright part as he told me he had just gone to Mass this past weekend. Odd, no, I guess maybe not. I didn’t ask him where, I guess I know we were there together. In this pew or that room, around the stairs or up in the choir loft. For as observant as I am sometimes, he might have been there three rows up and off to my left. No pop quiz on the homily, this kid already struck a homer in my book.

I had planned to go to the SOS next, yet I couldn’t, I was full and needed to get home. Spent the evening reading my CCC a bit, ooh that is a cross linked rabbit whole deeper that Wikipedia. I think I was trying to delay, when in doubt, less is more and I could OMG-

Just almost forgot the waiting room, I got to see Julie again, there helping others with transportation.

…as I was saying, less is more and I could not really tell where I wanted the daydream to end and a real story to begin. So I figured if I started writing late, I would have a great reason to cut it short to something like “Went to urologist, doubled BPH meds”. However, I ended up- I think- being able to tell a really great story, yet now missed out on more details to remember about Julie. I hope she is well. It is three am. So many details, police reports too, and insurance stories. More work for tomorrow at my new more comfortable writing desk. Proofread this one, 3:19am

Time to rest.

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