Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2018

Archive for the tag “Health”

Everybody Dance!

OK, LET ME BE COMPLETELY HONEST. I don’t do “Exercise.” My doctors, current and past, suggested, almost demanded, that I get myself into a regular program of exercise. There are just two parts to that which stop me cold.



The “Program” part I’m cool with. I like Programs. I watch a Program or two almost every day. We have cable.

“My favorite exercise is a cross between a Lunge and a Crunch.

I call it Lunch.”

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Making A Spectacle Of Myself


I HAVE MY NEW EYEGLASSES! It has been well over a month since I started this whole cataract adventure. I have been living with nonstop eye drops and a pair of Dollar store spectacles for so long now that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to pick up a book and read. I may need Physical Therapy to get back in the groove.

When I went in for my latest and final visit with Dr. Doogie, my 12 year old ophthalmologist with a five o’clock shadow, he said that everything looked good and that my vision was now at 20/25 – not perfect but some concession had to be made for my age. I was actually able to read the bottom line on the eye chart. When I first went in I could only read the first line below the


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Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “Stop The Freakin’ Presses!!”

monk mummy 2

Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “Stop The Freakin’ Presses!!”

“THE AMAZINGLY INTACT REMAINS of a meditating monk have been discovered in the Songinokhairkhan province of Mongolia, according to a report in Mongolia’s Morning News.”

I can’t speak for anyone else, but when I want news from Songinokhairkhan province, I turn to the Mongolia’s Morning News.

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The Same Old News


It seems that the air pollution in Bangkok has reached such dangerous levels that the citizens are being advised to breathe only when necessary. The report says nothing about tourists. I guess any visitors to Thailand are on their own breath-wise.

The second alert, also from Bangkok, is that Thailand’s roads are the most dangerous in the world. Given the opaque quality of the air I am not surprised that driving can be a thrill a minute.

Put these two tidbits of information together and if you are in Thailand you are in the middle of a real mess. The only place I can think of that is even more screwed up is Washington D.C. when Congress is in session. Talk about pollution.

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You Want Me To Stick That Where ?


Ear Candling? Yes, I did hear you correctly. You were asking me about Ear Candling. Someone I know was asking whether or not they should try Ear Candling.

For those of you who are already completely lost, let me explain.

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Am I Nervous?


I MAY HAVE HAD AN 8:15 AM APPOINTMENT, but that doesn’t mean I was ready to go at 8:15. It was a good thing that Dawn was driving. I was in no mood for having to deal with this whole surgery thing.

We were on time, checked in, and led back into one of those little curtained off areas where I was handed a hospital gown. I did not expect that. The Nurse, Techie, or Head Patient Wrangler told me that they were going to hook me up to a heart monitor and put a port into a vein – just in case.

Whatever. I was resigned to my fate.

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Look Into My Eyes

DRIP. DRIP. DRIP. Three drops for three days, but only in my left eye. My right eye is on its own – at least for the next two weeks. At that point it becomes Drip, Drip, Drip in the right eye.

By this time tomorrow I will have a brand spankin’ new lens in my left eye. Then for the next two weeks I will see better in that eye and still see crappy in the other. 

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Doctor, I Have Question


IT SEEMS THAT EVERY OTHER COMMERCIAL I SEE ON TV is for some new medicine with a name composed entirely of letters that have high point value in Scrabble. “Try new Xyzzzqwizl!” (773 points).

At the end of these ads they always stick in a disclaimer, “Ask your physician before starting any new medications.” Aren’t these new meds all by prescription only? I would assume that you cannot get these drugs by hanging out in the Seven-Eleven parking lot after midnight and befriending some guy named “Lucky.” Your doctor should have to write a prescription for a real pharmacy to fill. I’m not going to start popping some “Xyzzzqwizl!” with my Dr. Pepper and feel I’ve done my part.

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In Like Flynn


CAFFEINE. NO CAFFEINE. Most days it really doesn’t matter all that much. Today it matters.

I’m sitting here sipping on a cup of decaf coffee – by choice. In a few hours I will be going into my Cardiologist’s office for a Blood Pressure check and a blood draw. A load of caffeine won’t help my BP reading and the free donut I was just offered won’t look pretty on the analysis of my Type “O” Negative.

Such fun.

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When All Else Fails…


OK! OK! I KNOW WHAT THE DIRECTIONS SAY. I should always eat something when I’m taking my meds. On most morning my iced coffee is enough to buffer the effects of my handful of pills, but things have changed. I’ve started taking something new, on Doctor’s orders, and the game has changed.

My new Doctor has changed my medload and my body has yet to adjust to the altered chemistry in my tummy. When I take the new drug I have to eat something more than coffee or my gastrointestinal tract begins to re-enact the Charge of the Light Brigade.

“Half a league, Half a league, Half a league onward! Into the Valley of Death rode The Six Hundred.

“Cannon to the right of them. Cannon to the left of them. Into the Jaws of Death, into the Mouth of Hell rode The Six Hundred.”

Get the picture?

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Here We Go Again

I SUPPOSE THERE IS NO WAY OF AVOIDING IT. We are closing in on the New Year and along with that fact comes the inevitable question: Have you made any New Year’s Resolutions?” How I answer that depends upon who is doing the asking.

If I hear that question coming from someone on the TV I immediately ignore it and have a cookie. If I hear it from one of my doctors I put down the cookie. Casual acquaintances always ask and when they do I give them the Big Three Universal Answers: Lose Weight, Lose Weight, and Lose Weight.

I do that and they quit asking.

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I’m Sure About The Letter “E.”

WELL, THIS CERTAINLY WAS A BUSY MORNING. Coffee and conversation at 6:30 AM, and a Doctor’s appointment at 9:00 AM. My dance card was filled.

Most of the conversation segment of my morning was about my impending Doctor’s appointment. How exciting.

The appointment was with an “Ophthalmologist.” That is a word meaning: “Not a guy working at the Mall.” I was going to see him for a very good reason – my vision is starting to suck. Not all of it, just the part from about 2 ft. out to about 15 ft. Closer in and farther away I am seeing as well as a 71 year old Geezer with Astigmatism can be expected to see. I can find my way around town without a dog.

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Come Out, Come Out, Wherever You Are

I HAVE BEEN INVOLVED IN A LONG and arduous search lately. I’ve been looking for a new Doctor, your basic G.P. to keep me ticking – you know – a Witch Doctor.

The Doctor I had been seeing ever since I came to Terre Haute (That’s French for “Turn your head and cough.”) has decided to retire. I take no credit or blame in his decision making process. He retired and it turned into a case of finding a replacement before my prescriptions expired.

Let me tell you – it is not as easy a task as one would expect. There aren’t that many doctors in town, who have actual degrees in Medicine, who are anxious to take on 71 year old Geezers on Medicare. It seems we have a nasty habit of dying and I hear that means they have a whole new set of paperwork to fill out.

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Lost And Found

I LIKE TO CONSIDER MYSELF A PRETTY “WITH IT” KID OF GUY. I may not know where I am all of the time, but I’m never lost. I have my act together. Some people think I’ve lost my mind, but I think they are the crazy ones or they are family.

One thing that I don’t do very often is lose stuff. I try to not have too much stuff to begin with so there is less to keep track of. It’s a simple formula. There are people, however, who go around losing stuff all of the time.

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Bagels And Lisinopril

AS I FIND IT NECESSARY to do every so often I had to arrange for refills on my 8, 237 different meds that I take to control my Blood Pressure, my Spontaneous Human Combustion, and to keep my eyes from migrating so that they are both on the same side of my face (like a flounder). I don’t really care about the second and third conditions, but the BP thing is kind of important.

Let’s all repeat: “Blood Pressure is good.”

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Navel Maneuvers

I WAS READING AN ARTICLE TODAY in the online version of that old chestnut of magazines, the Readers Digest. It is pretty much like the paper magazine without the paper cuts.

The article in question caught my eye strictly because of the title,

“8 Parts Of Your Body You Should Never Touch.”

OK. If I don’t then who will?

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Questions And Answers Beyond Me

I WAS UP EARLY THE OTHER DAY – a good half hour earlier than usual. So I went for my morning coffee. I now know why I was awakened so early. There was a reason. I was to be told a remarkable story.

It was barely 6:10 AM when I walked through the door at St. Arbucks and I was greeted by a friend I hadn’t seen in months. He had just popped in for a coffee and five minutes later we would have missed each other. I’m glad that we didn’t.

Terry is a retired career Navy man who moved back to the Midwest after 20 years of service. We sat down and he brought me up to date on his life.

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Nothing. I Got Nothing.

IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT. At least that was how it felt to me. While it was comfortably warm and calm outside inside my body it was “Batten down the hatches, and furl your sails!”

I was sick.

On Friday I felt relatively well and spry for a man of my age, but by Friday night I was feeling a bit off kilter. I was sneezing and had no appetite. For me that is a rare occurrence. I began to fear that something ugly was afoot.

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Moving On

I CHECKED MY EMAIL THIS MORNING and among the spam and other stuff was a blog posting from a man who was just starting retirement – and he wasn’t happy about it.

“It’s Retirement Day and I finally understand that I mean no more to them than the corner trash can.”

That stopped me in my tracks.

This was a statement from a man who is feeling lost.

From the power of his words I would guess that he was forced to retire, either by circumstances such as health or by a mandatory retirement policy. Either way his world has just been turned upside down. He is being made to enter a new and, it seems, frightening period of his life.

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Throwback Thursday -from 2015 “When Furniture Attacks!”

Throwback Thursday – from 2015 

When Furniture Attacks!

Chair 2SOME PEOPLE SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED ANYWHERE NEAR A MANUFACTURING PLANT. They have an idea and they find some stooge to put up some cash, backing their endeavor. The end result is a product that, in a civilized society, would be outlawed immediately.

Case in Point –

Recently, my wife, the lovely and temporarily monoplaned, Dawn, and I stayed in someone’s Chair3home for a few days and they insisted on showing us their latest purchase – a “Massage Chair” that was guaranteed to relieve all your aches and pains leaving you refreshed, invigorated, and halfway on the road to being the next Dalai Lama.

Our hosts raved about the chair to the point that I thought they were going to consider adoption.

They finally talked me into giving a try.

Big mistake, bordering on criminal. I should have followed my instincts and not gotten within ten feet of The Chair, let alone into it.

First of all it looked like a Modern, Hipster, Steampunk version of something left over from the Spanish Inquisition. One should never trust a chair that has control buttons, dials and flashing lights. The only thing missing was a telephone on a nearby wall in case the Governor called with a last minute reprieve.

chairASitting on a chair should be a relatively easy thing to do, since our knees control which direction our legs fold, chairs should be an object where form follows function. You stand up. You sit down. Easy. Not with this “Massage Chair.” It took me three minutes to be “properly seated” according to the instruction book.

A chair with an instruction book.

Once in the chair “properly” and with all of the buttons and dials set, we plugged it in and hit the Launch button. It took me about three seconds to realize that I had just made a major life error.

The first thing it did was deliver a punch to the back of my head. That hurts. I don’t know why the chairchair4attacked, but after a nasty kidney punch it started pummeling my spine from top to bottom. If I didn’t know better I would have thought that I was being mugged.

“Isn’t that great? Can’t you just feel the tension slipping away?” asked the owner/keeper of The Chair.

The only thing I could feel slipping away were a couple of my lumbar vertebrae. I was beginning to know what it must be like to take part in a British soccer riot.chair1

 Eventually my screaming and cursing convinced somebody to; literally, pull the plug on this adventure. They had to help me out of The Chair. I sank to the floor and kissed the ground. If they hadn’t rescued me when they did I would have followed through with my thought to file Assault and Battery charges against that piece of the Devil’s Furniture.

Our host swears by that thing – that it makes him feel like a million bucks. At that moment I felt like about $3.25 in coins. I checked my wallet just to make sure everything was still there. I was pretty sure that, at one point, I felt The Chair trying to pick my pocket.

After a mouthful of Excedrin and some time in an overstuffed chair I was able to calmly express myself about The Chair.

“I don’t like it. I don’t want one. I think it is a tool of Satan.”

I offered to get rid of it for them – if they didn’t mind their house being destroyed in the process. They declined my offer.

I don’t think I’ll be buying a Massage Chair any time soon.

I think that I would prefer a cushy recliner that comes with a cup holder, remote control rack, and a built-in refrigerator (with freezer). That kind of a chair makes me feel better just thinking about it. 

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