On health and some about nature

After the 1938 hurricane, there was plenty of work for people willing and able to clear away the fallen trees. My father and another guy worked on the property of the old state hospital in East Gardner. In those days, many of the people who were committed to the hospital didn't come out vertically. It was a grim place, but it was some place. When the hospital closed in the 70s, many people were sent to the streets. We had people living in the Salvation Army bin in front of the Friendly's where I worked. One guy would come into the restaurant and drink Fribble® glasses of water, a sign of unchecked diabetes. Folks hung around for a month or so and then just went away.

At the hospital, my father met up with a patient named Percy. Percy dragged a heavy chain all of the time. He seemed all right, able to carry on normal conversations. After several times meeting up with Percy, my father's friend finally asked, "How come you keep dragging that chain around behind you?"

"You ever try pushing one of these things?"

Many of us will remember Lyndon Johnson showing off his gall bladder scar after his 1966 operation. I think that we're generally agreed that the world neither wants nor needs to see my scar, which, truth be told, is fading to just a scratch. I'm expecting to get the pathology lab results in the next day or two. Friday I have an x-ray scheduled to check on my pneumonia (cough, cough) and then an appointment with the dermatologist who will be looking anything else that might be suspicious.

Yesterday's Boston Globe carried an article that brought some interesting, but not altogether helpful news about skin cancer. For squamous cell cancer, there's no doubt that sun exposure is the primary cause and sunblock is the primary preventative. For basal cell cancer or melanoma, the evidence is less clear. Sun exposure, particularly sunburns, are a factor, but so are family history, age, sex, and skin type.

While the scientists figure out what's really at work here, I will take the cautious route. My days lounging around the beach in a Speedo® are done.

In conversations with family and friends, I've been trying to figure out how this cancer diagnosis has changed things. I don't have a clear answer and probably won't for a while. In the meantime, life is full and good, so I have plenty of ways to focus my energy. I often recall what an old friend said to me many years ago. "You'll reach a place where you look forward to the hard times for what they're going to teach you."

We don't see many deer at the camp. My guess is that the woods are too thick with undergrowth to let them move about easily. A couple of times, we've seen one swimming across the cove. Recently, we saw fresh hoof prints in the wet sand near the boat house. Our neighbors reported seeing a bull moose on the dirt road leading to their house.