June 2, 2005

• My luck comes through again

  
  

  When we first met, Kathy did my natal chart and said it included a yod, an astrological thingie also known as the hand of God, which involves, I think, three planets, a tricycle, and a ball-peen hammer.  Something like that.  Anyway, somehow I got the idea that it meant that I was born lucky.  No competant astrologer would agree–I do psychic and shamanic work that varies from adequate to astonishing, but I am probably the world’s most inept astrologer.  But I digress.

  
  

  The mere fact that I survived drug addiction and alcohol abuse that started on New Year’s Eve of 1952 and continued until the year before last has to mean something luck-wise.  But other stuff just keeps happening.  Like when I slow down and hesitate at a green light for no apparent reason, just in time to see some nitwit running the red–who would have t-boned me to hell and gone had I just proceeded through my green.  Or like when I pick out a pair of stupid-looking pants  at a thrift-shop, stick my hand in the pocket, and come up with two $20 bills.  I could go on in this vein for a while, but I want to jump ahead to the most recent instance–it was a pip.

  
  

  On Sunday, I am shopping at one of the local big box stores, when all of sudden, my right leg goes numb from the knee to the hip and I almost keel over.  Luckily, I had already learned from Kathy how to use  a shopping cart as a walker, so I just sort of stumbled.  It got worse, however, and by the time my next shopping stop was over, I was dragging the leg and limping and gimping with my knee locked.  This was a tad worrisome, so I decided to make an appointment with the clinic we go to.

  
  

  I do not do this lightly, since it means I have to miss a day of work and drive 120 miles.  But it seems I had two other problems which had been hanging on for months and years–a vision problem which started last winter when I stupidly got a ride to an NA meeting with a member  who is still actively addicted to nicotine.  He couldn’t wait till he got home to feed his filthy habit and  lit up in the car, so I stuck my head out the window to get away from his foul toxins.  Bad idea–it was 25 degrees outside and the cold and wind screwed up my eye somehow–I have had blurred vision and pain and tearing ever since.  (One day I am going to confront the asshole, but that is another story.)  Anyway–and this was the third thing–for years I have been developing these little spots on my hands which sorta come and go, and I got to wondering if they were just age spots, melanomas, or what.

  
  

  So I get to see the doc, turned out the leg thing is nothing.  We figured out that a week or so previously, when I cleverly bashed my knee into a car door, the trauma induced some swelling, which pinched a nerve.  That problem will go away by itself.  She examined the eye, after dropping in some orange dye stuff which made me look like an extra in a cheesy horror movie, which was kinda cool.  Turns out there is no serious damage to the eye, I just need to use special eye drops.  Bear with me, the punchline is coming up.

  
  

  She checks out my hand–it seems that the spots WERE just age spots–except for two of the little buggers, which were in fact pre-cancerous.  They were easily removed before they got malignant.

  
  

  And if it hadn’t been for the leg thing, I may well have put off seeing a doctor until AFTER the cancer developed.

  
  

  Oh, and this afternoon–I found a cool watch in the dumpster, which I am wearing now. 

  
  

  The watch, not the dumpster.

  
  

  That would be silly.

  • 6:54 pm
  • 5 Comments