One aspect of life that has become apparent to me as Old Pappy Time continues to pick my pocket, is that I must make concessions to age.
Some time ago my regular doctor, Dr. Asa Steth O. Scope, sent me to see an internal medicine doctor, Dr. Lay Tex, who said, "You are at the age (I hate it when doctors say that to me especially now that they are all younger than I am) when it is important to check your PSA number" and that doesn't mean Portland State Academy. I agreed and he did.
He said, "It is best if your PSA count falls within the range of three to five and yours is nearly eight, therefore, I want to take some more tests and monitor you more closely." And that statement signaled an incessant round of tests and observations over the next three years and it continues today.
More than 14 lustra ago my mother and father combined their DNA and produced a male baby, me. Their combined genetics made me taller and heavier than the average male. That is significant because after testing me every three months for more than a year Dr. Lay Tex said, "I need to take some pictures and samples to see what is going on in there." So he said, "Lie down on this table."
I was wearing one of those infamous gowns that you can always feel the cold north wind if you know what I mean. He pointed to a table that was as wide as a snow ski and as long as a Red Flyer wagon. I felt like I was lying on a shovel handle. "Now turn on your left side and face the wall." He said that so I couldn't see the maniacal evil grin on his face.
Suddenly a sound ripped through the quietude and struck fear in my heart and in the hearts of men everywhere. The schlepp schlepp of a medical professional putting on latex gloves. Sweat popped out on my eight head like dew in Seattle. Then he approached me with what looked and felt like a Louisville Slugger and said, "You may experience some discomfort during this procedure." That is like saying you may experience some dampness if dropped from an aircraft carrier into the middle of the South Pacific
I didn't know that anyone wanted 8 X 10 glossies of my inner parts. Suffice it to say that soon enough I knew what it means to get the shaft. "Just relax," Dr. Lay Tex intoned. Easier said than done if you are the one on the business end of the Louisville Slugger. And then he brought out a piece of equipment that looked like an electric hedge trimmer. It had a long snout that when introduced to the appropriate area took the samples. It rotated and clattered as if it were cutting through the back yard shrubbery. After what seemed like three days it stopped. After reading the data I got an all outs in free card. I still have some pictures for sale.
Larry grew up North of Calvertville on a farm and graduated from Worthington High School. He lives in Plainfield and can be reached at Goosecrick@aol.com or (317) 839-7656. Write him at Larry Vandeventer 6860 Sunrise Drive, Plainfield, Ind., 46168. He has written five books.