Jimmy Needs Glasses

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.  Yup… it’s that time.  The ole eyesight is just not there anymore.  Of course it has been a gradual disintegration starting back a few years.

The first indication occurred while we were on vacation in Hawaii and my wife was looking for a particular store without really knowing the name (that’s how we shop)… so as a dutiful husband, I tried to help the situation by pronouncing the stores that appeared on my side of the road hoping the correct one would come along so we could get back to the fun stuff.  Off in the distance was a store I could barely make out… I started slowing reading it as it came into better focus, “Boogie…” the words faded and I then I saw more, “Boogie Boards…,” I added still unable to see it all.   I strained again, “Boogie Boards and… Miscellaneous.”  That was it… I could see the entire sign.

My wife questioned what she heard as it sounded a bit ridiculous to her, “What?” 

But the store name was well within the realm of possibilities since this was after all Hawaii. 

“Boogie Boards and Miscellaneous,” I repeated matter-of-factly and positive in the possibilities that we would not venture into that shopping establishment.

“Where do you see that store?” my wife questioned… disbelieving a fact uttered from my lips.

I pointed it out almost to the point of indignation, “That building over to the left that says Boogie Boards and Misc. in big red letters.  Can't you see it?”

Then my gracious wife mentioned, “You mean… Borders Books and Music?”

“Yeah – that’s what I said,” and I continued driving past the big sign written as an obvious optical illusion.

Jimmy Has Been Duped

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.  A while ago I noticed a small lump or growth in the palm of my hand.  As a man, my first reaction was to ignore this obvious sign of trouble and insist to myself that it would “eventually go away.”  A few months pass and my healthcare wife noticed it and suggested that I have a specialist take a look.  My response, “Don’t worry honey, it will eventually go away.” 

A few more months pass and a second lump has connected itself to the first and apparently it’s not going away.  Now Jimmy is a bit more concerned since whatever this growth is, may require surgery and if that happens, it might wipe out the golf season.  Since golf is apparently more important than good health, I make an appointment. 

Soon Jimmy is waiting for the doctor.  As he enters the room and before he has physically inspected the patient (me), he throws a pamphlet in my direction and confidently declares, “You have Dupuytren’s Syndrome.” 

Uh?  This sounds ominous and the casual abruptness of the physician isn’t making me feel any better.  He has already given up any hope for my chances… the callous bastard.

I pleaded, “Doc, before you give me the bad news, how ‘bout you first take a look to make sure the diagnosis is correct.”

 “Don’t worry, I see this all the time.  As a matter of fact, I was one day away from getting to do this same surgery on Ronald Reagan but he had it done the day before I arrived at Bethesda Naval Hospital.”

Jimmy was feeling a bit better about his chances and the expertise of the doctor.  If the President of the United States would trust this guy, I should too… but then again the President opted for a different surgeon moments before going under the knife.

“This is a hereditary contracture of the fingers where the growth overtakes the tendon and starts to curl your finger.  Chances are that your father has the same thing.  The only other characteristic I can tell you about this disease is that your ancestors came from Northern Europe and we don’t know what causes it.”

My suspicions of this quack mounted… hell he didn’t need to be a clairvoyant to predict my ancestry with my fair skin and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to say “we don’t know much about this.”  Thanks for the confidence boost doc and the reason we don’t need government in healthcare.

 He continued, “But it is relatively common and nothing to be concerned about.  Chances are you won’t require surgery unless it bothers you.  And even if you get surgery, it will probably grow back anyway.”

“Don’t worry doc, unless this disease screws up my golf game, you won’t see me again. Thanks,” and I left.

Shortly thereafter, Jimmy decided to call his dad.  He sounded a bit concerned when I mentioned that I had seen a specialist about a health issue.  When I told him about the growth on my hand, and before I could say anything else, he interrupted me.  “You mean a growth on your right hand under the ring finger?  I have that too.”   

“How long have you had it?” I asked.

“About thirty years.  I thought it would eventually go away.”

“Dad, let me save you two hundred bucks.  It doesn’t go away.”

“I know that.”

"Well that's good info to know... If you want to know...  it's called Dupuytren’s Syndrome... now send me two hundred bucks."

.

Noodling in Science

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.  I always thought I was destined to be a science teacher, but then I analyzed the career move and thought better.  After hearing my daughter complain about science class, I went into a lecture about the virtues of science and I told her she was lucky I wasn’t her science teacher.  “Good warning dad,” she retorted.  Jimmy made the right career choice.

The conversation started when she was having a hard time eating supper.  We were in the midst of a delicious meal of Chinese lo mein noodles and she started to gag and refused to eat any more. 

“Hey, finish your meal,” I snorted between bites.  “There are starving kids in Indianapolis… or somewhere like that I have heard.”

“I can’t.  We just finished dissecting worms in science class and I can’t eat this stuff.”

I went into my tirade again about what a great science teacher I would’ve been in my day and continued, “Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.  You have to put that out of your mind if you want to be in science.  If I were teaching, I would've sent a note home to all my students yesterday urging that their parents have spaghetti or some stringy noodle for dinner after this biology class.  Then everyone could enjoy science even more.”

Yes… Jimmy would have been a great science teacher.

“Good warning dad.” 

  

Jimmy's Three Rules for International Travel

Me Knows Better Than to Say This… but I will.  I have determined that there are three basic rules for international travel.

1.      Any sleep is good sleep.  

2.      Whenever food is placed in front of you, it must be time to eat.  You never know from where you next edible meal will come.

3.      Start each and every day with a healthy breakfast.  That way you know the day can only get better after eating that crap.