Seems that Palm Springs is not really too far from here. Only 45 minutes without much traffic. A guy by the name of Richard, that lives in the same complex as I do and is here from Minnesota, and I decided to go there yesterday. It had been raining all night but was turning out to be a nice day here. On the way over we saw about 500 working wind turbines on the hillsides and in the valley. We drove through downtown Palm Springs and one thing I can say about it, is that it’s devoid of tall buildings. That’s a good thing.
The temp was actually pretty pleasant, about 70 degrees. I heard that during the summer time the temp is about 120 degrees, so this was a good time to visit.
We tried to take some streets to go toward the mountains that are to the west of the city but every street had a guarded gate. They all appeared to be gated communities. I guess to keep out vermin like Richard and myself. I was going to say that we were there to visit the Open House that was going on, but I figured that would be too much effort to just get some free food.
He’s evidently not too much of a hiker so I didn’t suggest we go bushwhacking or anything, besides it rained pretty hard on the way back. I think that next weekend I’ll go up towards Lake Arrowhead and see if I can find some good hiking trails. On second thought, maybe it’s better to go up there during the week. There very well may be less people there than on the weekends.
Today when I went out the lines were horrendous, and this was a Sunday morning. On the way there I could smell the wafting aromas of breakfasts cooking. I was getting hungry, but around every corner were lines and lines of people waiting to eat. I think everyone in Loma Linda must go out to breakfast on Sunday mornings and go to the same place. In fact, the longer I waited the more that I thought that people must come from miles around to eat breakfast here. I hate lines, and especially if I’m in one, but with my weakened state and hunger pangs and the aromas of food cooking made me get in one, and besides breakfast was just $5.99. I just hoped the line I was in led to food and not the bathroom. When I actually got into the restaurant it was even worse.
Ahead of me were two guys about 25 years old keeping up an endless conversation of meaningless drivel. One guy would always stop talking about every other sentence and ask his buddy, “know what I mean?” and then continue with his rant before the other guy had a chance to answer. I wanted to tap the guy on the shoulder and say, “Hey, Jethro, let me give you some advice; stay in school so you don’t have to ask your friends, ‘know what I mean?’ all the time. It makes you sound like the village idiot. In school you’ll gain a much larger vocabulary, especially if you read the books, and you won’t have to ask that stupid sounding question all the time.“ But of course, I didn’t say this.
I have always wondered if people who get tattoos every regret it. I saw this guy today in the restaurant, and I have to think that he must have questioned some of his sanity when he was younger. Here he is, an old man, about 85 years old, and he has what looks like a blue and purple bandana on his forehead. Upon closer inspection it’s a scenic of tattoos on his forehead from ear to ear and from just above his eyebrows to the crown of his head. Fourteen stray white hairs and a blue forehead. I have to think it never was too much of a ‘chick magnet.‘ It was a somewhat unique place to show his love to whoever’s name was on his forehead. It was made up of what looked like barbed wire and vague symbols of geometric figures or something. It looked like it may have been done by someone who wanted to go to tattoo school or possibly during an all-night drinking contest. The point is, I wonder if he ever regretted the statement that he was trying to make when he was younger and got the tattoo. I think that there should be breathalyzers at all tattoo parlors and people should be mandated to take the test. In addition to going to the two-week Acme School of Tattooing there should be a law that people cannot get a tattoo if they have a blood alcohol level of anything higher than 0.01. Maybe they could be cut some slack if they were getting a tattoo on a less obvious space, say their bum or something, then they could get a tattoo if the breathalyzer test were as high as 0.02. Don't get me wrong, I have seen great looking tattoos and I've thought about getting one at some point. I just haven't seen the right meaning that I want to have on my body. And I won't get one after drinking anything alcoholic.
I lost my only comb today, and so I had to make a crucial decision. I had to either buy another comb or get a haircut. I have been thinking about getting a haircut since I've been down here. I've been seeing these barber shops advertising the fact that they offer $6 haircuts, and you know me and bargains! I figured that if I had to buy a comb a week for 7 weeks more that would be $7 since the last one I bought cost $1. Based on the fact that I've lost two combs since I've been here it would be cheaper to just get a haircut. So that's what I decided. The only trouble is I could no longer find one of those places that advertised $6 haircuts.
Today I found one that had $8 haircuts. I decided on the spot that a barber on the boulevard is worth two $6 barbers that I can't find, so I went in. I confirmed that it was $8 and sat down in the chair. "Just leave about 1/2" I told the barber," running my hand over my head. After about `10 minutes of buzzing, clipping, snipping, and fussing she handed me the mirror. The sides were even and about 1/2" long, but she had left a perfect 1/2" wide line of hair running from the front of my hair to the back. I looked like some punk rocker 'wanna be. I laughed a somewhat nervous laugh and asked, "You are going to cut the rest of it off aren't you?" She laughed and said somewhat fakey, "Oh, you wanted that cut too?" She cut it and we were all happy. I think I almost could've been a punk rocker!
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thurs., Feb. 25
Yaaa… My appointment today is at 9:45 PM. I’m working my way up the food chain, or rather, up the seniority list.
I decided to venture out and go to the grocery store. That’s not to say I haven’t gone before, it just says that I’ve not driven the car. I generally walk about 2 miles each way (uphill in snow) to go to the store. Today the grocery store, tomorrow my laundry.
Today I decided to go on a real journey…. driving to Redlands which is about 5 miles away. I knew about where I was going because of the position of the Sun. I didn’t enter anything into the car GPS because I wanted to do it ‘Old School.‘ I hate that, but it happened to be the proper phrase. What that means is driving in the general direction of where you think something is supposed to be and hope that they really built it there. Realistically, I was never technically lost. I was just severely disoriented for inordinately extended periods of time having no idea where I’m going, but more important no idea how to get back to my starting point all the while maintaining a calm demeanor while [Yes, I will come to the end of this sentence soon.] trying not to perspire too much.
I made kind of a small (very small)promise to myself to not buy a bunch of junk food while I’m down here. No, I really did. You know, eat good food like oatmeal, carrots, dried fruit, oranges, and stuff like that. When I was at the store I did buy a bag of potato chips though. I figured they were OK because they were called ‘Guilt Free Potato Chips.’ Really. They must be nutritionally good because there was a line of rather obviously experienced potato chip eating people trying to make off with the last few bags. I managed to snag the last bag when I brought to their attention that there was a really famous movie star right behind them. It worked, can you believe it?
I can’t wait to tell my grandkids about driving when I was a kid. “We had paper maps when I was a kid. Yep, real paper. We didn’t have a GPS or any of that other fancy stuff. We had to depend on our own initiative and natural direction finding abilities to get around. If things got really tough, meaning lost for more than 4 or 5 days, we’d actually use the map.”
Men do this for more than just macho bravado. They don't it for something as shallow thing as trying to impress a woman. If we did use the map it would expose another of our tender underbellies. It would show a major physiological deficiency that we do not like to admit to. Women can point out many genes that are missing and if we did this it would just give women another way to show our ineptitude. Men lack a map-folding gene. Once a man unfolds a map to consult it, he can never fold it back as it's supposed to be again. The only cure is to buy another map and keep it in a very secure place.
On a serious note: There are about 250-280 patients going through the Proton Treatment daily. The four gantries operate from 6 AM until 11 PM. Much like a 7-11 Mini Mart, but in this case all the customers have their clothes off and there’s definitely no chips and soda. We really don’t have much interchange with other patients because of how well it’s all scheduled, and really who wants to have a conversation with a bunch of other naked guys?
Generally the conversations go something like this; “Wow, you’ve had 37 treatments? So, you’re a senior, huh?” Or, “Oh, you’re a patient here too, huh? “How many treatments so far?” Six. “Hey, that’s the same as me. Oh, yeh, you were at the orientation meeting. I didn’t recognize you without any clothes on.”
It’s one place when they tell you to “relax” you have to concentrate really hard to relax. When they say “pucker up,” you can bet, you ain’t gonna get a kiss. (Actually, they don’t say that, I just made that part up.)
I decided to venture out and go to the grocery store. That’s not to say I haven’t gone before, it just says that I’ve not driven the car. I generally walk about 2 miles each way (uphill in snow) to go to the store. Today the grocery store, tomorrow my laundry.
Today I decided to go on a real journey…. driving to Redlands which is about 5 miles away. I knew about where I was going because of the position of the Sun. I didn’t enter anything into the car GPS because I wanted to do it ‘Old School.‘ I hate that, but it happened to be the proper phrase. What that means is driving in the general direction of where you think something is supposed to be and hope that they really built it there. Realistically, I was never technically lost. I was just severely disoriented for inordinately extended periods of time having no idea where I’m going, but more important no idea how to get back to my starting point all the while maintaining a calm demeanor while [Yes, I will come to the end of this sentence soon.] trying not to perspire too much.
I made kind of a small (very small)promise to myself to not buy a bunch of junk food while I’m down here. No, I really did. You know, eat good food like oatmeal, carrots, dried fruit, oranges, and stuff like that. When I was at the store I did buy a bag of potato chips though. I figured they were OK because they were called ‘Guilt Free Potato Chips.’ Really. They must be nutritionally good because there was a line of rather obviously experienced potato chip eating people trying to make off with the last few bags. I managed to snag the last bag when I brought to their attention that there was a really famous movie star right behind them. It worked, can you believe it?
I can’t wait to tell my grandkids about driving when I was a kid. “We had paper maps when I was a kid. Yep, real paper. We didn’t have a GPS or any of that other fancy stuff. We had to depend on our own initiative and natural direction finding abilities to get around. If things got really tough, meaning lost for more than 4 or 5 days, we’d actually use the map.”
Men do this for more than just macho bravado. They don't it for something as shallow thing as trying to impress a woman. If we did use the map it would expose another of our tender underbellies. It would show a major physiological deficiency that we do not like to admit to. Women can point out many genes that are missing and if we did this it would just give women another way to show our ineptitude. Men lack a map-folding gene. Once a man unfolds a map to consult it, he can never fold it back as it's supposed to be again. The only cure is to buy another map and keep it in a very secure place.
On a serious note: There are about 250-280 patients going through the Proton Treatment daily. The four gantries operate from 6 AM until 11 PM. Much like a 7-11 Mini Mart, but in this case all the customers have their clothes off and there’s definitely no chips and soda. We really don’t have much interchange with other patients because of how well it’s all scheduled, and really who wants to have a conversation with a bunch of other naked guys?
Generally the conversations go something like this; “Wow, you’ve had 37 treatments? So, you’re a senior, huh?” Or, “Oh, you’re a patient here too, huh? “How many treatments so far?” Six. “Hey, that’s the same as me. Oh, yeh, you were at the orientation meeting. I didn’t recognize you without any clothes on.”
It’s one place when they tell you to “relax” you have to concentrate really hard to relax. When they say “pucker up,” you can bet, you ain’t gonna get a kiss. (Actually, they don’t say that, I just made that part up.)
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wed., Feb. 24
My walk today
Since I made a resolve to myself to write a journal of my daily routines, albeit as boring as they are, I sat down this morning to record them for the day…..thinking….still thinking……nothing coming……still thinking. Then, when I’d almost forgot what I was thinking about. I remembered! I had done nothing so far, and thus had nothing to write about.
Writing about what I’m reading or the Senate inquiry panel grilling the President of Toyota gets lost in the translation and is actually even more boring reading about it than listening to it. It’s kind of like a staff meeting when they’re talking about stuff you have no idea what they’re talking about and the best you can do is grunt in affirmation at the proper time, or reach for another piece of candy instead of raising your hand to vote on God knows what.
Here in the LA basin area (I think I’m still in the LA basin area) they have these crosswalks on every corner. In fact, there’s one right outside my door. Considering how many people and cars are down here it’s probably a pretty good idea. Anyway, there are these push buttons on the posts and if you need to cross safely you can push these and wait for the signal on the other side to display a picture of a white figure walking across the crosswalk. Oh, you’ve seen them too?
To go along with that, theoretically, if you get pressed out on in the street by a car while you’re in the crosswalk and the walking figure is white you can sue the city or someone for zillions of dollars, and if you‘re lucky live like a rich vegetable in a really nice wheelchair for as long as it takes you to convince someone to buy you a gun so you don’t have to live like a rich vegetable. I don’t really know if that’s true, and I’m not willing to test my theory.
Anyway, while going on my walk today I used the crosswalk. Of course I did, I always use the crosswalk and the push button on the post. I pushed the button and waited patiently for the figure on the other side to change from a red hand to a white figure. I always wonder when I push the button on these things if they really work, or they’re broken, especially after about 10 minutes of watching cross traffic from both directions proceed multiple times. I think that these buttons that the pedestrian pushes is just a 'dummy spring' and it has not bearing on anything nor is it really connected to anything. It is just there so the pedestrian has something to do while waiting there. Or worse yet a city worker with a remote in his hands just laughing his ass off at what he can make people do while trying to cross. Just about the time I think, ‘To hell with it, I’m going for it!’ there will be a police car sneaking up behind me just waiting for me to jay-walk or something. Come to think of it, is jay-walking ‘jay-walking’ when you’re in the crosswalk? What is it then when a person crosses in the crosswalk against a red walking figure?
Anyway, I pushed the button and waited and waited…and waited. I was thinking that here I was trying to be a law-abiding citizen and trying to cross legally at the crosswalks and I’m stuck at a broken crosswalk. Just when I was ready to take my chances and dart across I looked one last time and the figure changed from a blinking red to a constant white. I couldn’t believe it. It did work! Looking both directions before stepping off I stepped off the curb and onto the crosswalk, or rather started to step off. That was my mistake. I wasn’t quick enough. The lighted figure started flashing red. I think the white signal must have lasted at least 0.0000127 of a second.
I waited another 10 minutes for the light to change back to white again and finally it did. This time I was ready. I stepped off the curb without looking both ways and started to hurry across the street. I almost had my left heel off the curb when the light started flashing red. Damn, back to the sidewalk.
Next time I was really ready. I got down into the sprinter’s crouch position and instead of waiting for the starting gun I waited for the light to turn from red to white again. You know the position, fingers lightly touching the ground with your butt high in the air and your head up watching for the signal. I even shuffled my feet pretending I was pushing off from starting blocks. Some of the people waiting there probably didn’t know why I was doing this and I didn’t bother to take the time to explain it to them.
Mind you, this had been 15 minutes so far just to cross the street. At this rate it would take me about 26 hours to complete my proposed walk 4 mile walk. Anyway, I waited for the light to change and finally after about another 5 minutes the light turned white and I bolted like an Olympic sprinter off the curb.
Before my back foot landed on the street the light turned red again. I said to "hell with it" and walked back into the house.
Since I made a resolve to myself to write a journal of my daily routines, albeit as boring as they are, I sat down this morning to record them for the day…..thinking….still thinking……nothing coming……still thinking. Then, when I’d almost forgot what I was thinking about. I remembered! I had done nothing so far, and thus had nothing to write about.
Writing about what I’m reading or the Senate inquiry panel grilling the President of Toyota gets lost in the translation and is actually even more boring reading about it than listening to it. It’s kind of like a staff meeting when they’re talking about stuff you have no idea what they’re talking about and the best you can do is grunt in affirmation at the proper time, or reach for another piece of candy instead of raising your hand to vote on God knows what.
Here in the LA basin area (I think I’m still in the LA basin area) they have these crosswalks on every corner. In fact, there’s one right outside my door. Considering how many people and cars are down here it’s probably a pretty good idea. Anyway, there are these push buttons on the posts and if you need to cross safely you can push these and wait for the signal on the other side to display a picture of a white figure walking across the crosswalk. Oh, you’ve seen them too?
To go along with that, theoretically, if you get pressed out on in the street by a car while you’re in the crosswalk and the walking figure is white you can sue the city or someone for zillions of dollars, and if you‘re lucky live like a rich vegetable in a really nice wheelchair for as long as it takes you to convince someone to buy you a gun so you don’t have to live like a rich vegetable. I don’t really know if that’s true, and I’m not willing to test my theory.
Anyway, while going on my walk today I used the crosswalk. Of course I did, I always use the crosswalk and the push button on the post. I pushed the button and waited patiently for the figure on the other side to change from a red hand to a white figure. I always wonder when I push the button on these things if they really work, or they’re broken, especially after about 10 minutes of watching cross traffic from both directions proceed multiple times. I think that these buttons that the pedestrian pushes is just a 'dummy spring' and it has not bearing on anything nor is it really connected to anything. It is just there so the pedestrian has something to do while waiting there. Or worse yet a city worker with a remote in his hands just laughing his ass off at what he can make people do while trying to cross. Just about the time I think, ‘To hell with it, I’m going for it!’ there will be a police car sneaking up behind me just waiting for me to jay-walk or something. Come to think of it, is jay-walking ‘jay-walking’ when you’re in the crosswalk? What is it then when a person crosses in the crosswalk against a red walking figure?
Anyway, I pushed the button and waited and waited…and waited. I was thinking that here I was trying to be a law-abiding citizen and trying to cross legally at the crosswalks and I’m stuck at a broken crosswalk. Just when I was ready to take my chances and dart across I looked one last time and the figure changed from a blinking red to a constant white. I couldn’t believe it. It did work! Looking both directions before stepping off I stepped off the curb and onto the crosswalk, or rather started to step off. That was my mistake. I wasn’t quick enough. The lighted figure started flashing red. I think the white signal must have lasted at least 0.0000127 of a second.
I waited another 10 minutes for the light to change back to white again and finally it did. This time I was ready. I stepped off the curb without looking both ways and started to hurry across the street. I almost had my left heel off the curb when the light started flashing red. Damn, back to the sidewalk.
Next time I was really ready. I got down into the sprinter’s crouch position and instead of waiting for the starting gun I waited for the light to turn from red to white again. You know the position, fingers lightly touching the ground with your butt high in the air and your head up watching for the signal. I even shuffled my feet pretending I was pushing off from starting blocks. Some of the people waiting there probably didn’t know why I was doing this and I didn’t bother to take the time to explain it to them.
Mind you, this had been 15 minutes so far just to cross the street. At this rate it would take me about 26 hours to complete my proposed walk 4 mile walk. Anyway, I waited for the light to change and finally after about another 5 minutes the light turned white and I bolted like an Olympic sprinter off the curb.
Before my back foot landed on the street the light turned red again. I said to "hell with it" and walked back into the house.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Tues., Feb. 23
Well, I’ve been here a week now, only about 8 more weeks to go. This is such a different experience being here. I should home with my family, be in my classroom. I find that leaving my identity and routine is hard. Never in wildest imagination did I ever believe that I would find myself missing work to attend to a health issue of mine. I have always fancied myself a relatively health person. Now I find myself not just dealing with it, but changing my life and routine to deal with it. What I’ve had affirmed to me so far is how important family is. Talking by web-cam is nice but it doesn’t take the place of being there face to face. To me it’s somewhat like receiving a email vs. A hand-written letter. The difference is minimal, but the meaning is amazing.
In every separation of a human touch there is a loss in meaning that is hard to quantify. As this is carried on it further distances genuine human interactions. Being there on the screen watching our family dinner last Sunday was very special and it made me realize how important it really is. Many time my small day-to-day experiences don’t really make an impact on me, and I may not understand how really important they really are.
The first thought that comes to mind is exercising whose benefits aren’t really realized until much later. Initially the only benefit may be a soreness which may not really be understood to be a benefit. The true benefit is the underlying strength of the muscles and the health of ones very cells. Perhaps their will be an opportunity to come from this experience that I don’t see yet.
In every separation of a human touch there is a loss in meaning that is hard to quantify. As this is carried on it further distances genuine human interactions. Being there on the screen watching our family dinner last Sunday was very special and it made me realize how important it really is. Many time my small day-to-day experiences don’t really make an impact on me, and I may not understand how really important they really are.
The first thought that comes to mind is exercising whose benefits aren’t really realized until much later. Initially the only benefit may be a soreness which may not really be understood to be a benefit. The true benefit is the underlying strength of the muscles and the health of ones very cells. Perhaps their will be an opportunity to come from this experience that I don’t see yet.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Mon., Feb. 22
Today I had an appointment to see Dr. Bush. Once a week all patients meet with their doctors. Being a doctor he wasn’t there today, so I met with his Resident Physician. My time will be at 2:40 PM each Monday.
Even though my body said “don’t go to the gym” I went anyway. I worked out on the weights for awhile and then decided to ‘man up’ and go to the Yoga class. I was interested to see how they were going to mesh Western Christianity religion and the mediation aspect of Buddhism and Yoga. Yes, there was still the “Standing Dog” and the “Bent Cow” but it was intermingled with the soothing background music of Yanni. She didn’t say anything about Chakras though, maybe she forgot.
When I took the rubber workout pad from the stack and placed it on the floor I scared myself when I looked into the mirror that was along the front wall. I was much wider than I originally thought. Since I was wearing light-colored shorts and a white T-shirt, I kind of looked like either the Pillsbury Dough Boy or maybe the pudgy Michellin tire guy. But then I looked again, and what I was really looking at were where two mirrors came together. I stepped to the side and everything improved. I was much slimmer. Not much, but it helped. Thank goodness for inferior workmanship.
Doing the exercises I felt like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. The ‘Standing Dog’ was OK, but it got kind of hard from there on out. Meanwhile, the instructor looked like she could have been a stand-in for that toy, Gumby. I don’t think that she was too impressed with my lack of flexibility. I told her I was over-muscled and men with a lot of muscle don’t stretch very well. She didn’t buy it. Of course it’s a similar story that I told the trainers in the weight room, “You wouldn’t believe how well I stretch, I just don’t have a lot of muscle to go along with it. (Not really, I just made that part up.)
I think that the best approach is somewhere in the middle. I’ve seen statues of people that mediate too much. All their weight stops at their stomachs. Of course I’ve seen people who run to much too. They look like a bunch of skeletons running down the road.
My appointment for ‘the treatment’ was at 3:15 PM today. Seems that the guy who usually has it at that time had to do something really important, probably finish his golf game or something. Mine is back to my freshman time of 10:15 PM on Tuesday, unless the guy has to play another 18 holes.
Even though my body said “don’t go to the gym” I went anyway. I worked out on the weights for awhile and then decided to ‘man up’ and go to the Yoga class. I was interested to see how they were going to mesh Western Christianity religion and the mediation aspect of Buddhism and Yoga. Yes, there was still the “Standing Dog” and the “Bent Cow” but it was intermingled with the soothing background music of Yanni. She didn’t say anything about Chakras though, maybe she forgot.
When I took the rubber workout pad from the stack and placed it on the floor I scared myself when I looked into the mirror that was along the front wall. I was much wider than I originally thought. Since I was wearing light-colored shorts and a white T-shirt, I kind of looked like either the Pillsbury Dough Boy or maybe the pudgy Michellin tire guy. But then I looked again, and what I was really looking at were where two mirrors came together. I stepped to the side and everything improved. I was much slimmer. Not much, but it helped. Thank goodness for inferior workmanship.
Doing the exercises I felt like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. The ‘Standing Dog’ was OK, but it got kind of hard from there on out. Meanwhile, the instructor looked like she could have been a stand-in for that toy, Gumby. I don’t think that she was too impressed with my lack of flexibility. I told her I was over-muscled and men with a lot of muscle don’t stretch very well. She didn’t buy it. Of course it’s a similar story that I told the trainers in the weight room, “You wouldn’t believe how well I stretch, I just don’t have a lot of muscle to go along with it. (Not really, I just made that part up.)
I think that the best approach is somewhere in the middle. I’ve seen statues of people that mediate too much. All their weight stops at their stomachs. Of course I’ve seen people who run to much too. They look like a bunch of skeletons running down the road.
My appointment for ‘the treatment’ was at 3:15 PM today. Seems that the guy who usually has it at that time had to do something really important, probably finish his golf game or something. Mine is back to my freshman time of 10:15 PM on Tuesday, unless the guy has to play another 18 holes.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Sun., Feb. 21
Something woke me up about 4 AM. It was a staccato tapping sound that had a somewhat sharp edge to it. It sounded like it was coming from the skylight area above the futon that I sleep on. The skylight is about 5’ square with a lamp/fan in the middle of it. The skylight actually extends over the opening in the ceiling so there is a flat area on the underside of the opening. The tapping sounds would start again and then stop again, like something running, sniffing, stopping, and sniffing again. Great, I thought, a mouse, or worse yet, a vagrant rat doing laps over my head in the skylight! Just what I need gnawing on my bananas on the counter, or worse yet eating some of my energy bars! This means WAR! Already in a half-waked state I was thinking of calling the landlord and seeing if they had any rat or mouse poison. Looking up in the darkness I thought I saw a dark shape running on the edge of the opening framed by an even larger shape. I didn’t even want to know how it may have got up there.
Finally I just rolled over and tried to go back to sleep as it now sounded like the noise level had increased. As if it had invited its friends over, and they were all doing laps racing around the flat area up there. As it got louder and louder I could just imagine that the fastest runners of the rat world were up there just a few feet over my head taking part in some type of Olympic Rat Running Trials or something. Oh well, since I hadn’t seen any signs of any rodent turds on the floor I thought they must know what they’re doing and hadn’t fallen into the human living space yet.
When I got up a couple of hours later I discovered that it was simply the rain hitting the skylight and not a stray varmit as I’d thought.
I was able to go to the gym finally and work out. The good news is that they have a really nice health facility. The bad news is that I still looked like Pee Wee Herman when I walked out. At the end of my workout I got into the outdoor hot tub with a couple of the post 50 crowd. I didn’t stay very long as all they were talking about was how Wal-Mart vitamins compare with Rite-Aid vitamins. The final straw was when they got into their lumbago issues. I was ‘outta’ there.
Finally I just rolled over and tried to go back to sleep as it now sounded like the noise level had increased. As if it had invited its friends over, and they were all doing laps racing around the flat area up there. As it got louder and louder I could just imagine that the fastest runners of the rat world were up there just a few feet over my head taking part in some type of Olympic Rat Running Trials or something. Oh well, since I hadn’t seen any signs of any rodent turds on the floor I thought they must know what they’re doing and hadn’t fallen into the human living space yet.
When I got up a couple of hours later I discovered that it was simply the rain hitting the skylight and not a stray varmit as I’d thought.
I was able to go to the gym finally and work out. The good news is that they have a really nice health facility. The bad news is that I still looked like Pee Wee Herman when I walked out. At the end of my workout I got into the outdoor hot tub with a couple of the post 50 crowd. I didn’t stay very long as all they were talking about was how Wal-Mart vitamins compare with Rite-Aid vitamins. The final straw was when they got into their lumbago issues. I was ‘outta’ there.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Sat., Feb. 20
Today I thought of getting in the car and driving somewhere. Then I looked out and listened to the traffic and decided not to. Then Sandi called me up and said, “You should really get in the car and drive somewhere.” So I got in and drove around the block.
Andrew and Rachael texted me, and after about an hour of messing around we got the video chat feature of Gmail working. Randy got on and then for some reason none of us could see each other. Finally, after Sandi called again telling me “You should really go somewhere and have a relaxing drive,” I did. I got in the car and headed east to a place called Arrowhead Lake. It’s the first time I moved the car since I’ve been here. After about 5 minutes on the freeway of watching maniacal frowning drivers hunched over steering wheels with a cigarette and Red Bull in one hand and texting with the other hand driving 70 MPH, I had had enough of an enjoyable relaxing drive. I stopped and walked slowly through a Wal-Mart full of screaming kids to calm my nerves. Andrew wanted me to get a headset with a speaker anyway. They didn’t have one. Probably the only Wal-Mart in the world without a headset speaker.
Anyway, I worked up my nerve and got back on the freeway again still headed for Arrowhead Lake. It was a little overcast in Loma Linda and it was a lot overcast in the direction that I was going. The elevation climbs as the road leaves the city. Which city? I don’t know. About 2 miles out of town the road narrows to a two-lane, and there’s a sign showing that you’re now entering San Bernadino National Forest, and right beside the sign is a scrawny, little, spindly, yellowing six-foot pine tree, evidently, the forest. It was the only tree visible for miles. As the road got curvier the traffic got faster and the clouds got thicker. Pretty soon the cars’ speed hadn’t decreased, but the visibility was down to about 15 feet. Since I think I may have been overlooking Arrowhead Lake and I couldn’t see it I turned around and came back. I’ll save this drive for earlier on a weekend morning and on a clear day.
I entered in the San Juan Street address and it took be back a different way than what I had come. Now, I’m really glad that Sandi bought this Mazda with the GPS Guidance System, or I may be having surgery right now. I can’t imagine finding my way around here without a navigator or one of these. I had no idea where I was until about 5 minutes before I parked in front of the apartment. It’s just a good thing that cities were smaller when we had paper maps.
Andrew and Rachael texted me, and after about an hour of messing around we got the video chat feature of Gmail working. Randy got on and then for some reason none of us could see each other. Finally, after Sandi called again telling me “You should really go somewhere and have a relaxing drive,” I did. I got in the car and headed east to a place called Arrowhead Lake. It’s the first time I moved the car since I’ve been here. After about 5 minutes on the freeway of watching maniacal frowning drivers hunched over steering wheels with a cigarette and Red Bull in one hand and texting with the other hand driving 70 MPH, I had had enough of an enjoyable relaxing drive. I stopped and walked slowly through a Wal-Mart full of screaming kids to calm my nerves. Andrew wanted me to get a headset with a speaker anyway. They didn’t have one. Probably the only Wal-Mart in the world without a headset speaker.
Anyway, I worked up my nerve and got back on the freeway again still headed for Arrowhead Lake. It was a little overcast in Loma Linda and it was a lot overcast in the direction that I was going. The elevation climbs as the road leaves the city. Which city? I don’t know. About 2 miles out of town the road narrows to a two-lane, and there’s a sign showing that you’re now entering San Bernadino National Forest, and right beside the sign is a scrawny, little, spindly, yellowing six-foot pine tree, evidently, the forest. It was the only tree visible for miles. As the road got curvier the traffic got faster and the clouds got thicker. Pretty soon the cars’ speed hadn’t decreased, but the visibility was down to about 15 feet. Since I think I may have been overlooking Arrowhead Lake and I couldn’t see it I turned around and came back. I’ll save this drive for earlier on a weekend morning and on a clear day.
I entered in the San Juan Street address and it took be back a different way than what I had come. Now, I’m really glad that Sandi bought this Mazda with the GPS Guidance System, or I may be having surgery right now. I can’t imagine finding my way around here without a navigator or one of these. I had no idea where I was until about 5 minutes before I parked in front of the apartment. It’s just a good thing that cities were smaller when we had paper maps.
Fri., Feb. 19
One reason that encourages me to utilize the gym is that the way that you check into the gym is with a little electronic credit card looking thing. For this reason they can track just how often a person uses the gym, or doesn’t use the gym. In the Proton Therapy Treatment they use these balloon things daily that are not the most pleasant of experiences. Well, to go along with the use of the gym, it seems that they save some of these extra balloons for those that do not use the gym. Let’s just say I’m going to endeavor to utilize the gym as much as possible.
Yesterday as I started to walk onto the track I had my head down making sure that my shoelaces were tied and my socks matched. I was lost in a world of thought. I was trying to determine if I had had enough exercise and should call it quits for the day. I had my head down trying to decide what to do until I was awakened by excited voices and the sound of shuffling feet getting louder and more and more excited. I looked up and understood what it must be like to being in the Running of the Bulls in Pampalona, Spain.
There were 6 people charging toward me the only place where there was any type of narrow chute on the entire ½ mile track. They weren’t just coming straight at me, they were running in a zigzag drunken fashion bumping and tripping into each other towards me. I guess if I had just kept still when I looked up instead of putting my head down and acting like I was a full back trying to run through the defensive line of the San Francisco 49ers and let them sweep past me they wouldn’t have looked like a bunch of drunken sailors coming to avenge something they thought I must have done. Anyway, I didn’t stand still. I moved quickly and flattened myself to the side of the track and let them sweep by me. I almost felt like I was slightly gored, but it was only a flesh wound.
I had some excitement yesterday. I felt a small earthquake. I was just sitting on the couch and felt about a 2-3 seconds shaking motion. The overhead light swung a little and then it was over. OK, it was really more exciting than it sounded.
I walked to the local Hometown Buffet for my sustenance today. It’s about 2 miles away so by the time I got there I was ready to kill and eat. The lunch price was $8.51 for as much salad, lunch, clam chowder, carrot cake, and Free-Range Baco-Bits as I could eat. The walk back was somewhat slower, actually, more of a rolling motion. I walked by way of the shopping complex just up the street (about 1-½ miles away) that has a Stater Brothers Grocery Store. I had to buy a lock and some vegetable juice. By the time I got back to the apartment I was hungry again so I walked back to the Hometown Buffet for dinner (not really).
Yesterday as I started to walk onto the track I had my head down making sure that my shoelaces were tied and my socks matched. I was lost in a world of thought. I was trying to determine if I had had enough exercise and should call it quits for the day. I had my head down trying to decide what to do until I was awakened by excited voices and the sound of shuffling feet getting louder and more and more excited. I looked up and understood what it must be like to being in the Running of the Bulls in Pampalona, Spain.
There were 6 people charging toward me the only place where there was any type of narrow chute on the entire ½ mile track. They weren’t just coming straight at me, they were running in a zigzag drunken fashion bumping and tripping into each other towards me. I guess if I had just kept still when I looked up instead of putting my head down and acting like I was a full back trying to run through the defensive line of the San Francisco 49ers and let them sweep past me they wouldn’t have looked like a bunch of drunken sailors coming to avenge something they thought I must have done. Anyway, I didn’t stand still. I moved quickly and flattened myself to the side of the track and let them sweep by me. I almost felt like I was slightly gored, but it was only a flesh wound.
I had some excitement yesterday. I felt a small earthquake. I was just sitting on the couch and felt about a 2-3 seconds shaking motion. The overhead light swung a little and then it was over. OK, it was really more exciting than it sounded.
I walked to the local Hometown Buffet for my sustenance today. It’s about 2 miles away so by the time I got there I was ready to kill and eat. The lunch price was $8.51 for as much salad, lunch, clam chowder, carrot cake, and Free-Range Baco-Bits as I could eat. The walk back was somewhat slower, actually, more of a rolling motion. I walked by way of the shopping complex just up the street (about 1-½ miles away) that has a Stater Brothers Grocery Store. I had to buy a lock and some vegetable juice. By the time I got back to the apartment I was hungry again so I walked back to the Hometown Buffet for dinner (not really).
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Thurs., Feb.18
Today was somewhat busy considering where I’m at and everything I’m not doing. I was really worried about what I’d forget. I really hoped that I wouldn’t forget, or worse yet fall asleep and miss my 11:00 PM appointment. I haven’t stayed up that late since …..(thinking)……(still thinking)……New Years Eve of 2007. Also, I had a 9:30 AM appointment for an orientation to the Proton Department. Considering the fact that I’d already had a consultation and nothing but embarrassment came from it I just couldn’t wait to see what this orientation would lead to. Actually as it turned out it was very much like going to a conference or workshop where they give you a large stack of papers that they want you to read. That’s two stacks of paper I have to read through now.
The place I’m staying is called the New Englander and considering how small it is, it’s an appropriate name. I didn’t really see how well the name fit until I’d been here a few days. The New England States are pretty small and densely populated, much like this apartment. It’s OK until I walk into it, then it gets kind of claustrophobic and over-populated.
In hindsight I’m really glad that HB had me pack the things I did. Extra underwear, deodorant, extra socks, and stuff like that. I knew that I’d need stuff like towels for the gym and gym shorts.
I finally got to go to the gym and get signed up. I was ready to tear that place apart. The veins in my neck were pumping and I was breathing deeply. I could just see myself walking in like Pee Wee Herman and walking out like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was ready! I walked around getting the lay of the land and decided I’d go to the weight room. I did notice a sign that that said “No Towel, No Weights.” The mean side of me wanted to get out my permanent marker and write underneath it “No Problem.” Well, as I was getting dressed for the workout and just determining which shorts to wear I discovered a problem. I couldn’t decide if I should wear my weightlifting shorts, my running shorts, my badminton shorts, my basketball shorts, my walking shorts, my swimming shorts, my jogging shorts, or my basketball shorts. I needn’t have worried I found out that I forgot to bring a towel. I had to lower my sights and walk back out like Pee Wee Herman.
I had to settle for walking around the ½ mile track 11 times. There was some good news though, I received a call that I could come in at 5:45 PM instead of 11:00 PM if I wanted. Seems like the new guys get the really early morning times and the really late times. Anyway,
By the way I finally got to put to use the tanning oil I brought down. No, not for tanning, but for putting into frozen-up key locks.
I’d recommend the dark tanning oil myself. Hawaiian Coconut 30 SPS is my choice.
The place I’m staying is called the New Englander and considering how small it is, it’s an appropriate name. I didn’t really see how well the name fit until I’d been here a few days. The New England States are pretty small and densely populated, much like this apartment. It’s OK until I walk into it, then it gets kind of claustrophobic and over-populated.
In hindsight I’m really glad that HB had me pack the things I did. Extra underwear, deodorant, extra socks, and stuff like that. I knew that I’d need stuff like towels for the gym and gym shorts.
I finally got to go to the gym and get signed up. I was ready to tear that place apart. The veins in my neck were pumping and I was breathing deeply. I could just see myself walking in like Pee Wee Herman and walking out like Arnold Schwarzenegger. I was ready! I walked around getting the lay of the land and decided I’d go to the weight room. I did notice a sign that that said “No Towel, No Weights.” The mean side of me wanted to get out my permanent marker and write underneath it “No Problem.” Well, as I was getting dressed for the workout and just determining which shorts to wear I discovered a problem. I couldn’t decide if I should wear my weightlifting shorts, my running shorts, my badminton shorts, my basketball shorts, my walking shorts, my swimming shorts, my jogging shorts, or my basketball shorts. I needn’t have worried I found out that I forgot to bring a towel. I had to lower my sights and walk back out like Pee Wee Herman.
I had to settle for walking around the ½ mile track 11 times. There was some good news though, I received a call that I could come in at 5:45 PM instead of 11:00 PM if I wanted. Seems like the new guys get the really early morning times and the really late times. Anyway,
By the way I finally got to put to use the tanning oil I brought down. No, not for tanning, but for putting into frozen-up key locks.
I’d recommend the dark tanning oil myself. Hawaiian Coconut 30 SPS is my choice.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Wed., Feb. 17
After another day of humiliation and embarrassment followed by shock and awe I decided to look on the bright side and have a salad for lunch. I’m going to limit myself to one eating-out meal a day, and I’ll try to make it a good one. I really don’t want to cook. Maybe boil water but that’s it. Anyway, I went to the hospital cafeteria to have that meal. I loaded up a plate of just salad. I knew that HB would be really happy with my choice. It did have a little of everything except meat products as Loma Linda is a SDA institution. The closest thing to meat was the Free-Range Baco Bits. Anyway the bill came to $11.03 for a plate of salad. I probably won’t be eating too much salad there anymore.
Well it was a successful day. I took off on a hike after lunch with no definite destination in mind and I arrived safely. Actually, I did go to look for some geocaches on the hillside south of here. You can actually see barren hilltops over the tops of the houses, so that was my goal; to actually hope that there were some caches up there. I found three that looked to be in that general direction and loaded them into the GPS. It was getting kind of sunny and the roads were steeper than what they looked from the bottom. The first rule of geocaching is that “The shortest distance between two points is not always a straight line.” That’s especially true around houses with dogs. I couldn’t find the first one even though I walked around all sides of a house. I swear it must be on the roof or in the back yard. 0/1.
I did discover that there are oranges, lemons, and grapefruits just laying on the ground, in the street, and on the sidewalks. They’re everywhere! And I just went to the store and bought about $10 worth. Let’s just say I’ll be eating a lot of fruit but not buying any at the store.
The second gecoache was a little difficult to find even though it appeared that it was just off the road. I had just about given up when I noticed this white official looking pickup with a light bar pull up and park about 100’ down the road under a tree. I was thinking that since I had passed all those signs that said “This is Neighborhood Watch Neighborhood” some good Samaritan neighbor was watching and called the law on me. “Officer, he’s a dangerous looking sort. Ball cap on his head, something about ‘Bigfoot Lives’ on it. He looking for something, but he looks like he’s lost, appears to be walking around in circles mumbling 'yum, yum' noises to himself,“ I can hear her say.
I poked around a little bit more and actually found the cache. Yes, just where the hint said it would be. I sat down on the curb and logged it half expecting to have the white pickup drive up slowly and the guy get out of the pickup and say, “Whatca’ doin’ son?” He didn’t. I put it back in its place and walked back down the road past the pickup still expecting him to be watching me and ask me what I was doing there. I noticed as I got closer it was a Code Enforcement Officer for the City of Loma Linda. I thought that there was some kind of code against looking for geocaches in Loma Linda. I needn’t have worried, he had the seat back and was asleep.
I actually did find a way to get to the top of the hill without cutting through anyone’s yard. Of course the cache was meant to be found by coming up the hill from the other side from another street from who knows where. Anyway, I went down the other side and tromped around but couldn’t find it. I figured I covered about 8 miles today, and my ankles are telling me all about it.
Well it was a successful day. I took off on a hike after lunch with no definite destination in mind and I arrived safely. Actually, I did go to look for some geocaches on the hillside south of here. You can actually see barren hilltops over the tops of the houses, so that was my goal; to actually hope that there were some caches up there. I found three that looked to be in that general direction and loaded them into the GPS. It was getting kind of sunny and the roads were steeper than what they looked from the bottom. The first rule of geocaching is that “The shortest distance between two points is not always a straight line.” That’s especially true around houses with dogs. I couldn’t find the first one even though I walked around all sides of a house. I swear it must be on the roof or in the back yard. 0/1.
I did discover that there are oranges, lemons, and grapefruits just laying on the ground, in the street, and on the sidewalks. They’re everywhere! And I just went to the store and bought about $10 worth. Let’s just say I’ll be eating a lot of fruit but not buying any at the store.
The second gecoache was a little difficult to find even though it appeared that it was just off the road. I had just about given up when I noticed this white official looking pickup with a light bar pull up and park about 100’ down the road under a tree. I was thinking that since I had passed all those signs that said “This is Neighborhood Watch Neighborhood” some good Samaritan neighbor was watching and called the law on me. “Officer, he’s a dangerous looking sort. Ball cap on his head, something about ‘Bigfoot Lives’ on it. He looking for something, but he looks like he’s lost, appears to be walking around in circles mumbling 'yum, yum' noises to himself,“ I can hear her say.
I poked around a little bit more and actually found the cache. Yes, just where the hint said it would be. I sat down on the curb and logged it half expecting to have the white pickup drive up slowly and the guy get out of the pickup and say, “Whatca’ doin’ son?” He didn’t. I put it back in its place and walked back down the road past the pickup still expecting him to be watching me and ask me what I was doing there. I noticed as I got closer it was a Code Enforcement Officer for the City of Loma Linda. I thought that there was some kind of code against looking for geocaches in Loma Linda. I needn’t have worried, he had the seat back and was asleep.
I actually did find a way to get to the top of the hill without cutting through anyone’s yard. Of course the cache was meant to be found by coming up the hill from the other side from another street from who knows where. Anyway, I went down the other side and tromped around but couldn’t find it. I figured I covered about 8 miles today, and my ankles are telling me all about it.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The treatment will officially start tomorrow even though I went through the entire process today. It's just like getting x-rays taken at the dentists office except for the fact that you're doing it without any clothes on and you're bare naked lying in a coffin-like molded plastic piece of half-rounded PVC pipe and they aren't aiming anything at your mouth.
Oh, yeh, FYI, they still haven't improved on the hospital gowns. Since the time of Florence Nightengale they've been stuck on the same style. They're still short on zippers, buttons, or velcro and long on drafts.
So, it's not painful or invasive only humiliating, embarrassing, and drafty. I take that back, it is invasive. Think a colonoscopy that they don't put you out for. It's a good thing that I have a high tolerance for embarrassment. Here's something that you can get your mind around. There's a donut (white frosting) looking thing that swirls around you and it's shooting protons into targeted areas of the affected area. Clothes off to clothes on? About 15-20 minutes which leaves about 23 hours 40-45 minutes to actually shop for donuts.
I guess with some guys there's a minor incontinence problem. In fact, someone that had the treatment put together a flyer that lists all the public bathrooms within a 5 mile radius of the hospital.
I found the Drayson Center, which is a Health Club/gym. I can get a membership there since I'm a proton treatment.
Jim
Oh, yeh, FYI, they still haven't improved on the hospital gowns. Since the time of Florence Nightengale they've been stuck on the same style. They're still short on zippers, buttons, or velcro and long on drafts.
So, it's not painful or invasive only humiliating, embarrassing, and drafty. I take that back, it is invasive. Think a colonoscopy that they don't put you out for. It's a good thing that I have a high tolerance for embarrassment. Here's something that you can get your mind around. There's a donut (white frosting) looking thing that swirls around you and it's shooting protons into targeted areas of the affected area. Clothes off to clothes on? About 15-20 minutes which leaves about 23 hours 40-45 minutes to actually shop for donuts.
I guess with some guys there's a minor incontinence problem. In fact, someone that had the treatment put together a flyer that lists all the public bathrooms within a 5 mile radius of the hospital.
I found the Drayson Center, which is a Health Club/gym. I can get a membership there since I'm a proton treatment.
Jim
Trip down
Again, the trip down was uneventful. The trip went well until I got in the car and the GPS lady came on. You know, the pleasant one that really wasn’t so nice. The first words out the GPS were, “Just do what I say and nobody will get hurt.” I think that she knows that I blamed her for our previous off-route foray. Yes, the one I learned a bunch of new four-letter words from. Anyway, Sandi and I entered in Chuck’s address and I took off. We’ve named the GPS lady, Mavis Beacon, but she needs a proper language check.
I arrived at Chuck’s about 7:30 PM. I think that Mavis took me on a rather circuitous route. I picked up on that after crossing the American River twice and given the fact that I could swear I ended up going back and forth on the same street. The final straw was when I asked Mitch and Dick the best way to get on I5 and it wasn’t anything close to the way Mavis told me.
Chuck and Mitch are getting along pretty well. Chuck is getting making improvement daily. Dick is having Chuck take his medications on a regular basis to keep his blood pressure down,
and Chuck is giving Dick enough crap to keep his blood pressure up. So I guess it’s a symbiotic relationship. By the way if you’re thinking of getting Chuck a new calendar, don’t bother. There are quite a few calendars spread throughout his house and none of them are close to the same month, and none are on the right month.
The drive down is very long. In case that you’re shopping early for Christmas trees I saw a lot along side the freeway in Modesto. Don’t even think about stealing one though as the County Jail is right next door. Coming down the Central Valley I passed a lot of ‘Happy California Cows’ on the hillsides. The happiest ones I’m sure were the ones that were looking down on the ones in the Harris Ranch feed lots. I entered in the location when I thought I may be getting close and found that I was still 122 miles away. Imagine driving from Crescent City to Medford all the while going from 80 MPH to a dead stop in 5 lanes of traffic. Once I got stopped behind a cattle truck that had “Flirtin’ with Disaster” lettered on the back. I got around it as quick as possible. So much for LA being the ‘City of Angels.‘ I’ve been down here for 12 hours and I haven’t seen an angel yet. Nope, not even a cherub! Why can’t they be neighborly if I choose to drive 40 MPH in a 70 MPH zone? (Not really, I just made that up. I drive 50 MPH). I can confirm that either it’s really smoggy down here or the windshield wipers are possessed. They came on under a smoggy sky with not a raindrop in sight.
Gotta go to my first treatment.
I arrived at Chuck’s about 7:30 PM. I think that Mavis took me on a rather circuitous route. I picked up on that after crossing the American River twice and given the fact that I could swear I ended up going back and forth on the same street. The final straw was when I asked Mitch and Dick the best way to get on I5 and it wasn’t anything close to the way Mavis told me.
Chuck and Mitch are getting along pretty well. Chuck is getting making improvement daily. Dick is having Chuck take his medications on a regular basis to keep his blood pressure down,
and Chuck is giving Dick enough crap to keep his blood pressure up. So I guess it’s a symbiotic relationship. By the way if you’re thinking of getting Chuck a new calendar, don’t bother. There are quite a few calendars spread throughout his house and none of them are close to the same month, and none are on the right month.
The drive down is very long. In case that you’re shopping early for Christmas trees I saw a lot along side the freeway in Modesto. Don’t even think about stealing one though as the County Jail is right next door. Coming down the Central Valley I passed a lot of ‘Happy California Cows’ on the hillsides. The happiest ones I’m sure were the ones that were looking down on the ones in the Harris Ranch feed lots. I entered in the location when I thought I may be getting close and found that I was still 122 miles away. Imagine driving from Crescent City to Medford all the while going from 80 MPH to a dead stop in 5 lanes of traffic. Once I got stopped behind a cattle truck that had “Flirtin’ with Disaster” lettered on the back. I got around it as quick as possible. So much for LA being the ‘City of Angels.‘ I’ve been down here for 12 hours and I haven’t seen an angel yet. Nope, not even a cherub! Why can’t they be neighborly if I choose to drive 40 MPH in a 70 MPH zone? (Not really, I just made that up. I drive 50 MPH). I can confirm that either it’s really smoggy down here or the windshield wipers are possessed. They came on under a smoggy sky with not a raindrop in sight.
Gotta go to my first treatment.
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