My computer has been coming on, I get about halfway to the e- mail box
or NG or something, then it'd freeze. Last night my nephew came and
fooled with it for a couple of hours and it works now. I can't get over
how much bigger, better looking, faster, smarter, and polite the kids
are these days. I guess us boomers were just so rebellious,
discontented, and spoiled we couldn't be pleased....lol.
 Anyhow, I'm doing fine, I guess. I'm back in my wranglers and can
tuck in my shirt tail using both hands and not loosening my belt.  They
took all  the metal staples out Monday and the catheter....(PRAISE THE
LORD). I've only had one "accident",(well, two, but one was right
before I stepped in the shower). The other one was embarrassing though.
I've been staying at my parents house to recover from this (they live
just 2 miles from town, have a big house, and cable TV). The next door
neighbors are an old retired couple named Claire and Fred. Now if you
want something known in the neighbor hood, just tell Claire. I mean the
woman can out broadcast CNN, the Internet, blog sites, or dedicated,
fiber optic phone lines easily. Fred, on the other hand wouldn't tell
you the sky was blue unless he felt it was very important for you to
acquire that information.
Claire, though, does not miss a bird flying by and let's anyone that'll
listen know the color, type, direction of flight, and gender of said
fowl. Now these houses all sit on about 3 1/2 acre lots, so the yards
are big and fairly secluded by tall, evergreen windbreaks. Since I had
been wearing sweat pants for a week I did all my walking on the side of
the property that Claire couldn't see well. I just didn't feel like
giving the community a report everyday that I was walking around with
sweat pants to cover a pee bag. Claire is very thorough when relating
information. On with the story, on Tuesday I put on my hat, wranglers,
boots, and a George Strait Classic shirt, tucked it in and decided to
walk out and get the mail. The mail box is about 250 yards from the
front door. I had looked out the window and seen that Claire was
working with two Mexican gardeners getting her spring flower beds
prepared and planted.
A Jamaican sprinter could not have made it to the mail box and back
before Claire intercepted him. So I wanted to put on a good front, you
know, get the word out that ole Dave was just fine, looked good even,
and beat this cancer deal without even looking back. And I wanted folks
to hear it from Claire. I stepped out into the entry way of my moms
house and listened. Even though they were working 70 -80 yards from
where I stood, I could hear Claire berating one of the gardeners in
rapid fire Spanish.(In spite of being large land owners and quite well
to do, Claire had always worked. Retired now, she had been a foreign
language professor at the local university for almost 40 years and is
supposedly fluent in 5 languages). The flower beds looked impeccable,
but this woman can find fault, believe me. I took the opportunity to
head out towards the mail box while she was busy correcting the long
suffering, hard working, little Mexican. Shoulders thrown back, arms
swinging loosely, I strode on out toward the mail box. I was trying
desperately to give the impression of being light on my feet, just
lithely gliding along to get the mail and saunter on back to the house.
I have no idea when Claire saw me, but when I turned around from the
mail box, there she was. Maybe 10 feet behind me, hands on hips,
weighing in at 108 lbs., wearing a bonnet. How did she catch me that
fast (80 yrs old).??? "Well David, did you think you could just sail
out here, breeze on out to the mail box and not even say hello?" I
replied," of course not Claire, I just didn't want to interrupt you and
Sicorro, my, my, my, but your flower beds are looking pretty".  Claire
responded,"I just don't know what I'm going to do, these Mexicans just
get lazier all the time." I can't remember a time when Claires house,
yard, and gardens didn't make Martha Stewart look like a slob.
All this time we are walking back toward my moms house. Now one of the
things the nurse that removed my catheter had told me was,"you are wide
open now, it'd probably pay to stick a Kotex in your drawers in case of
incontinence or leakage". Kotex? KOtex? KOTEX!!!! Not this ole
buckaroo, nuh -huh. Not a chance. I'd already urinated several times
with good control, had to wait a little to make sure all was out, but
could clamp er shut and stay dry. Well, I never felt it coming, the
first thing I knew a LOT of warm liquid was running around in my
drawers and down my leg! I was busy telling Claire how,"no, I've no
pain or side effects, thanks for asking, but cowboys don't cry either".
MY GOD I had just peed myself. Now don't ask me how, but Claire had
intuitively seen through the bull sh.t. Just as we approached a live
oak in moms yard. I held back to let Claire go around and, hopefully on
back to her flowers. No such luck she was two steps ahead, stopped,
turned around and just looked fixedly at the big stain on my crotch and
leg. She just shook her head and said,"David, I knew your grandpa. I
have to wonder if even y'all believe you own bull sh.t!"
I was mortified, Claire turned and headed, I'm sure, for the phone.
My poor mother has been fielding calls the last three days assuring
people I'm coming along normal and not the victim of a surgical mistake
and left an invalid.  JEEZ.

Well, that's been the worst part, my own machismo letting me down. The
colon surgery I believe has been the most painful. Even passing a
little gas can get your attention when it goes past the re-section and
one constipated day I sure had to grit my teeth! But all in all I feel
OK. restless even. Next week I find out when the radiation starts. My
navel has a little infection in it. the incision is 13" long, but
healing nicely.
If I walk over a mile it feels like a steel rod where my prostate used
to be, so I'm trying to relax more.

So, how are you guys? I've prayed for you and have truly cherished you
questions and concern.  Please let me know

GOD BLESS
David