It appears nothing interesting happened this week so I posted this blog from 2018 out of desperation…

I’m driving along, again wondering what I should blog about this week. What can I write that you might want to read? So I thought, I wish something interesting would happen so I don’t resort to posting a previous blog out of desperation. Word of advice:

Recently I’ve undergone some procedures: a bone scan for oldies like me, a pap smear, mammogram…all the fun stuff. So I’m getting my pap when the doctor says, “I see you have osteoporosis.” What? Appears my bone scan showed I’d graduated from soft bones to full-fledged-about-to-crumble-bones.

Oh the joys of being short, small-boned and Caucasian (risk factors for osteoporosis).

Then the next day I had a mammogram even though, as I’m pushing 63, they suggest doing it every 2-3 years. They can suggest all they want; I get one every year.

The day after my mammogram, Kaiser called to say I needed to come back; they found something “abnormal” on my scan. Gulp. They scheduled another appointment for 9:00 a.m. the following day. So even though it felt like my chest had just accommodated a napping baby elephant, I psyched myself up for another napping baby elephant.

I believe my guardian angel sends me hints when she’s trying to get my attention (not an easy feat). I think we all receive signs we can ignore or heed. I’m a heeder. So when I started my car Thursday morning to head back to Kaiser, my radio was tuned to SiriusXM 70s music.

Jason Isbell was singing this exact line, “…it’s knowing that this can’t go on forever…one day you’ll be gone.” Really? You’re going to tell me this now? Suddenly I got nervous. To compound matters, the very next song was Bob Dylan singing, “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.” Okay, I get the hint, thank you very much.

While driving, I’m thinking if I get bad news, what happens to my 8 animals? Who will take which dog, which cat? Wally is a challenging but lovable character (when he’s not barking). Still, nobody will want him. My friends will fight over Skip because he’s so stinking adorable. Savannah is semi-feral so what will become of her? The list goes on.

My last thought before arriving at Kaiser was, who will help take care of my disabled sister? Now don’t get me wrong; I know what you’re thinking: How could I consider my pets before my sister? Good question…I’ll get back to you on that.

Anyway, there I am getting squished again. One-two-three-four-five scans on the right breast at every angle imaginable. When I figured the technician was done, she says, “Let’s get one more.” I thought, let’s not. But she did. Apparently the elephant wasn’t done napping. Then I waited for the doctor to check the scans, a nerve-racking 10 minutes.Walking through the door, the doctor blurts out, “Everything’s fine!” Then he gave me a warm smile and apologized for the scare. That’s when I exhaled for the first time since hearing the word “abnormal.” Turns out the culprit was an overlapping pectoral muscle. I wasn’t aware I had any of those left.

So I guess my guardian angel was messing with me. Yes, someday I will be gone, just not today. Maybe she was reminding me I need to appreciate that fact. (And it worked.) As I drove away from Kaiser, guess what song was playing this time? Joe Cocker singing, “Feelin’ Alright.” (Which I surely was.) And the line that hit home most was, “There’s too much to do before I die.”

And I thought, you got that right, Joe.