No Appointments? Nice.

 So early this am I saw Dr. Rigo in his new office --on Kendall and SW 107 Ave. My dentist is right across the street, and we used to always visit New York New York, a pretty good deli. I've only been in the Publix there once in the last decades -- every locale brings back a memory.

My suegra's final evening the Vitas Hospice nurse left -- saying that Covid had caused a shortage of nurses. The problem was, Vitas had medical control over my suegra, and so the Palace nurse really couldn't give more morphine. Turns out when someone is dying -- morphine is pretty important.

Anyway, Wifey planted herself bedside, and I drove to the Publix to get supplies for her -- including a phone charger she had left home. But critically, I bought Publix cookies for the nice nurse, and sure enough, he helped -- morphine per the doc's orders. Whew. A few hours later, while I was actually on the phone with the funeral folks to tell them a new client was imminently coming, Rachel died. I drove back to The Palace and we waited for Vitas -- they sent a nice minister who had the authority, apparently, to sign a death certificate. He asked if we wished to pray to Jesus for the soul of Rachel. I laughed -- no -- she was quite Jewish. Would we mind if HE prayed? Not at all, Reverend, I said, knock yourself out. 

We left after Rachel's body was taken out, and I will NEVER forgive Vitas for that night -- I sent a few emails about how they pulled the pitcher off the mound in the bottom of the 9th. They never responded. Anyway, lots of memories in Kendall.

But back to Rigo. He took my BP and weighed me. My BP was normal, and I had lost 12 lbs in the past 2 weeks. Rigo was happy -- so was I. I plan to stay this course. Tonight, Wifey brought back pizza from a place next to her lash place. I had ONE slice, like a human adult man, instead of several, like my frat boy alter ego. High BP can sure scare a guy straight.

And then after a workout, I got flu and Covid jabs at Walgreens. And then as I got home, it occurred to me: for the first time in a LONG time, I have zero medical appointments or even need to visit the pharmacy. Wow -- like a regular, younger person. What a concept!

Other than some trips to the campus infirmary for flu and muscle aches after an ill advised tackle football game, I think I maybe saw a doc ONE time. For years after, I NEVER saw a doc, other than a visit with a GI named Guber to make sure some, um, bleeding was my birthright of hemorhoids and not something worse.

It's typical -- as we age, more docs come into the picture. Actually, I DO have an appointment in December -- with one of my TWO eye docs -- for follow up on a retinal hole and increased pressure. The pressure guy's appointment falls during our Euro trip. I can wait until 2027 to see him...

I think there's an old Yiddish curse that says may you become very rich and spend all of your money on doctors. 

For now -- nice to take a break from the medics.

Ain't It Funny How Time Slips Away

 Ah, the great Willie Nelson song. He wrote it in 1961, the year I was born, and Willie is, 65 years later, still touring and playing. Wifey and I saw him twice -- in Lauderdale, at that cool theater they have there, and then again outdoors at a neat amphitheater in Key West -- a trip that ended up ushering in a whole new phase of life for Wifey and me -- but that's another story.

But FaceBook (tm) has this nostalgia feature -- they show pix you posted from years ago. Today one popped up of Wifey and me dressed up as a sultan and one of his wives at a nightclub in Istanbul. I forwarded it to Eric, Dana, Barry, and Donna, as the 6 of us are booked NEXT September for a cruise out of Istanbul.

But then I checked the date of the photo: 1997. That means it will be THREE decades next year since Wifey and my trip to what for me was a VERY exotic place. I still recall walking through the rug market (still have the one we bought, and the comically classic merchant folded it up into a briefcase size so we could schlep it home) and thinking I was freaking Al Stewart in "Year of the Cat." I had been to Israel, and Europe several times, but for some reason, for my 36 year old self, being in Turkey made me feel like a world traveler for the first time. I totally dug that the River Bosphorus is considered the boundary between Asia and Europe. I look forward to visiting again next year, this time with by BFF college buds.

Still -- 30 years gone by now?   Einstein, turns out, had it correct -- time IS relative. I recall well when I was a younger lawyer, active in practice, of the rare occasion I would awaken for some reason at 4 am. I would immediately fall back asleep -- I could grab a sorely needed few more hours. This am I got up at 4 -- and that was IT. And I didn't dread it -- the dogs were happy to see me so early, and eagerly ate their breakfasts a few hours before usual. And before I knew it, the dawn was upon Miami, and I left for my 3 mile walk in the relative cool of the morning gloaming.

Today Wifey and I have tentative plans to meet Boston Sheryl for lunch. She's my age, but with the energy of someone 20 years younger. She's in Miami for several hours only -- to get her hair did and then meet us for lunch, before heading to Boca and a Labor Day weekend at the Boca Hotel and Club hosted by her oldest Andrew. Andrew went to UM and hit it big as a Day Trader -- unlike the majority of his peers.

He married a lovely woman, they have 2 kids now, and live on the golf course at LaGorce. His life has been in stark contrast to his younger brother, who had multiple DUIs in Miami and Boston, and ended up in a tragic wreck where he killed 2 people and crippled their rental car van near Logan. He spent nearly 5 years in prison (in Florida it would have been more than 10 -- I guess they're more understanding about DUI cases in Mass) and has been out several years. He's doing well -- marrying a nice woman soon, and living with Sheryl .

When she tells me about the trespasses of her middle son and his lady, I ask her why she doesn't boot them -- Steven is late 30s. "Oh no -- I don't want to live alone!"

As Richie Aprille said to Tony: "To each his own." But Sheryl is always fun to catch up with -- her latest adventures on JDate, for example. Most of the fellows I know of my vintage have ZERO interest in dating someone our age, but Sheryl is never deterred -- brimming with self confidence. I like that in a lunch companion.

We met her nearly 30 years ago, too. D2 and her daughter Amelia were in kindergarten together. They kept in touch for years, even after Sheryl and her kids went back to Framingham after a nasty divorce. I took D2 and a friend up to Boston for Amelia's bat mitzvah -- now 21 years ago.

We met Joelle and Kenny, who were living in Sharon, Mass at the time, but soon to relocate to the 305. I still recall well hosting Joelle when she had her law professor interview -- and as we recalled Monday on a Zoom -- THAT was 20 years ago!

Again -- the time slips away.

My good old man news is that the BP meds and weight loss seem to be working -- my home machine shows readings either normal or just slightly elevated -- no more numbers in the "get thee to the ER NOW!" range. I plan to keep on this wagon.

Last night, Wifey's mah jong friends brought over fine looking chocolate chip cookies. I was offered one, and said I was going to pass.

Barry and I both want to be down 20 lbs from our heights by December, when we go on the Spain to Portugal cruise. And it turns out 2 martinis are indeed enough, even though the luxurey Explora staff keeps bringing them.

My goal is to have plenty more time to watch slip away...

30,000 lbs of DAY-O

 Ah, married life of nearly 4 decades. I know I am insufferable, but when I mess up, I apologize, laugh about it, and, if it causes any consequences, immediately do whatever is needed to fix it. Not "everyone" accepts fault the same way.

"Some people" find it VERY hard to admit messing up, and apologies are rarely true apologies. They are typically "Sorry...BUT..." followed by reasons for the screw up -- OTHERS screwed up more, etc...

Well today there was a very comical incident. I typically order our groceries via the Publix Instacart APP, and it's easy peasy, and almost always accurate. Someone else, whose name is not to be mentioned, is annoyed by the higher cost, on account of, I guess, we used to be poor.

Anyway, we typically order 7 bananas per week. Today, as I schlepped in the bags, I noticed something awry. Instead of 7 bananas, they delivered 7 BUNCHES. It's as if we were running the monkey exhibit at ZooMiami. I dutifully schlepped them in.

The person who lives here other than I was first to figure it out. Now -- these are bananas, not steaks or even expensive other items. But after laughing about it, I was banned from discussing bananas any more. I mean -- don't I screw up??????!!!!!!

So I took the high, mature, route and went right to the Sonos. I played a favorite song from my Junior High days: Harry Chapin's "30,000 lbs of Bananas." It is a semi fictional tale about a semi crash in Scranton, PA, and became a signature at Harry's concerts.

Boy, did I love Harry Chapin -- his poetry and fun music. When "Cat's in the Cradle" came out (same album as the banana song) I played it for me Dad, and he was horrified. "Am I like that???" I guffawed -- no -- my Dad was the opposite -- he came to Little League practices for me, along with games. He was ALWAYS there for me. But it was a cool song and once Dad knew I was doing a little music education, instead of messaging, he loved it, too.

I saw Harry play first at my high school  Geraldo Rivera used to be an ace investigative reporter, and he did an expose on abuses at a local mental hospital. Somehow a MacArthur teacher knew him, and they held a benefit concert at my school to raise money for the poor inmates -- Harry was the lead act. I still recall the show -- probably 1976 or so.

Fast forward to April or May of 1980 -- freshman year at UM. He played the patio, and I was in a great mood -- I had gotten an A on a big Biology 111 test -- had it with me. After the show, I asked him to sign it. "Harry -- I'm a Long Island guy -- would you sign my test?" I recall his response. "Sure, but how about kicking in a buck, literally, since I know you're in college, for the Hunger charity here in Miami?" I sported out -- tossed in a Fiver, and he signed the test and we shook hands. A little over a year later, he died -- on Long Island, on his way to another charity show at Eisenhower Park.

Harry was really the pioneer of the big charity music shows -- everyone knows he sort of inspired Live Aid and Farm Aid. What a loss.

Anyway, we now have LOTS of bananas to give away. Luckily they're green. We'll bring some for the Ds Friday, and maybe she who must not be named can give away some bunches to her mah jong friends tonight. Jeff is back from Connecticut -- maybe I can offload a few bunches on him and his girl Samantha, who lives at home.

As for me? I have to get back to Sonos. Guessing some Soupy Sales and Harry Belafonte will be played this afternoon.

If I am found dead, and bananas are inserted rectally and orally -- my family will know what happened.

Awesome Dinner

 So last year, a client Paul and I referred got an AMAZING result. A case we thought might be worth $50K or so settled for well over $500K. The client was an acquaintance, and though he paid a fee, wanted to thank Paul and me, and so gave us some generous restaurant gift certificates: $350 to 3 places. We used one -- at Bourbon Steak, and I told Paul to use the other, at Sunny's Steakhouse, for himself and Patricia.

Wifey and I had been there, and it was VERY expensive -- just go yourselves, but it never happened, and so Paul suggested we go last night. The trouble is, as Sunny's was voted one of the top new restaurants in the US by the Times and other pubs, it's a 3 month wait for a reservation. BUT, as the Ds told us, if you get there when they open, you can get a seat either at the outdoor terrace, with a limited menu, or the inside bar, with 20 stools, with a full menu.

Patricia invited Donna and Barry, too, and they accepted, but as the day grew longer, it appeared that their errands were taking too long, and so they bowed out. But we got there at 5:30 and sure enough, got the final 4 barstools -- I had my martini, which I have been cutting down on account of hypertension, and we feasted -- sharing 2 steaks, salads, sides, and then desserts for the sweet toothed -- not me. Everyone LOVED the food -- and with the certificate, only had to add an additional $250! A bargain.

But there was more. D2 and Jonathan had invited D1 out for pizza at Bar Bucci, right next door in the gentrifying Little River 'hood, and they came by to visit. It was crowded, and so we retired to the terrace -- it wasn't oppressively hot with the fans and no sun out.

Jonathan said the burger was a top 5 in the city, and ordered one for us to share, and the younguns had cocktails. There may be a guy who had a lot of steak and wouldn't touch a burger after he was told it was a Top 5 one, but that ain't me, as Dylan sang. I had 1/4 and it was indeed delicious.

So we 7 spent another hour or so, and savored each other's company on that lovely Saturday night. We had agreed earlier that there be ZERO discussion of health issues, especially amongst we elders, as we see the trap that is. Since 60 somethings and older see LOTS of docs for LOTS of conditions, it's easy to let that be the focus of conversation. Not us, at least not last night. Talk of prostates and hypertension were shoved aside in favor of catching up about kids and grandkids and careers -- well at least those of D1 and Jonathan, as they work hard for the money...

Wifey and I drove home feeling like we won Lotto -- what a night it turned out to be. The grandsons are in Colombia until tomorrow night, and when they return are  packed with after school stuff, so we'll see them Friday. Luckily videos of them enjoying their time provide a nice substitute in the mean time.

Tomorrow I have some pro bono work to do -- a surgeon friend needs me to help him with a matter where he's requested as a witness and needs assurance he doesn't become a Defendant -- we have a conference after my workout. And then at 5 a Zoom catch up with Joelle and Kenny -- still in Maine for another month or so, and we need a catch up.

If there's something better than a great dinner with sacred people to me, I don't know what it is...and last night we were privileged to have one.

Travel Insurance

 So this am I bought coverage for our December cruise -- from Barcelona to Lisbon. I used to laugh and scoff at trip coverage -- when we were YOUNG! Now, with manifold medical issues, and grown kids and grandkids, and all the moving parts of our lives, travel coverage seems a good idea.

The first time we WISHED we had it was 15 years ago. Wifey and I used my friend Jeff's Mom as our travel agent for a 25th anniversary tour of France. My suegros were going to stay with the Ds, who were 9 and 12, and we had a lovely trip planned...and then...

My late suegro was OCD about cleaning their (actually our) condo, and after my suegra had gone to bed, washed the floor an extra time. Suegra got up for a nosh, and not knowing the floor was wet, did an obese, 70 something version of Dorothy Hamill, but not stopping gracefully -- compound ankle fracture.

She had surgery and did well, but our trip had to be canceled. I called Judy and she was none too pleased -- reluctantly contacted the hotels and got refunds, but told me sternly that "the flights are NOT refundable." Hell -- even then it was over $1200, and so I called Air France myself and they couldn't have been nicer -- just a letter from a doc confirming my suegra's injury, which I got, and got an immediate credit. Judy was LIVID -- how DARE I go behind her back. And I was like , hey, lady -- sorry -- your lost commission is outweighed by MY refund. But anyway, we didn't lose out on the trip.

A few years ago, we had a Disney Cruise all planned. I thought Disney cruises were priced like Carnival -- ha! As if! Turned out they are MUY expensive, and one of us, I forgot who, got Covid. No worries -- travel insurance refunded everything.

And Wifey had a mah jong cruise on Oceania set, but her bad back reared its ugly head. It took a few weeks. but her company issued a full refund.

So I just this am paid about $1500 for coverage for December. I would LOVE if the premium was wasted. Wifey joked -- much of our early lives, $1500 more than paid for our whole vacation -- now it's just an add on in case we can't go. What are ya gonna do?

We have another big trip booked for September -- NEXT September. This is another Explora cruise (Big Man willing, it will be our 5th) from Istanbul to Athens. This trip was Eric and Dana's idea.

It's too early to book flights, but after I do, I shall go to my Faye App and add coverage for that trip as well, and again, hope it's "wasted" money. But Explora and Biz Class are not shy about charging, and worth every penny, in our opinion -- so the coverage makes sense.

I had a great convo yesterday, and the convo partner said how much she admired my luck -- I had only ONE stressful issue in my life. I now wish I simply agreed with her and said "Indeed, I am amazingly blessed" but instead I was honest, and started sharing some of the many life issues that indeed stress my a lot -- welfare of my nearest and dearest, and hell -- my own blood pressure last week.

I got "Wow -- I thought I was #2 on your list." Nope -- I corrected -- maybe number 55. 

But issues like spending money to protect amazing trips -- agreed -- not stressful. Hoping I get to actually go? Stressful, but now insured.

Still My Favorite Time Of Day

 For an insufferably upbeat and optimistic person like I am, I find beauty if ALL times of the day. Maybe not so much when I'm insomniacal at like 2 am -- but surely the rest of any day.

Still, last night as I made my last tranche of steps about a half hour before sunset, it returned to me that dusk has always been my preferred time of day -- dating back to childhood. I guess I was always drawn to the transition parts of life, and dusk connects the afternoon to the night.

I remember falling in love,as it were,with dusk on Jones Beach after a late departure with my parents. Something about the pre sunset light grabbed me, and it still does. Probably near 6 decades later, I walked last night through my 'hood -- only a car or two, and quiet until my neighbor Will was a block behind me, with his booming radio announcer voice on his speaker phone disrupting the serenity for awhile.

But I thought of Springsteen and his poetic "the shadow of the evening trees." We have many flowering trees, and last night there was a scent -- not the sweet night blooming jasmine, but small white flowers from a very tall tree -- we have them throughout -- I plan to use that Google thing that tells you what something is from a pic. But the scent is lovely, and subtle.

Also, the "Heat Advisories" we've had have passed, and the weather has been, well, tenable. Last night it was relatively humidity low -- in the 80s -- and the awful mosquitos were at bay. It was a truly lovely stroll, and I thought of all the dusky memories I hold so dear -- Halloween walks in my childhood in the chill Fall, Winter cold walks dressed in down parkas, and the many, many lovely strolls in Miami -- especially in the cooler times .When I was in Paris the first time -- with the Ds -- we were in Luxembourg Gardens at dusk, and the light was amazing -- it hit me like a falling acorn to the head why artists always painted there.

Probably the best dusk of all time, though, was when Jonathan and D2 were married on a roof top of the Betsy Hotel in February of 2020. The sun was getting ready to set over the Everglades, the Atlantic to our East, and the light looked truly surreal -- like a Hollywood lighting director had conjured it. Of course, The Big MAn was there -- smiling, I like to think, at the union of 2 grandkids of Survivors --- but the light kept catching my eye.

Anyway, I just returned from Walgreens and my second of 3 Hep A and B jabs. Next is 6 months away, and then I am free to do all the IV drugs and promiscuous sex I want and hopefully my liver stays safe. Ha. As if! But though I am not at risk other than being Old as Fuh, I am SO pro vaxx that I get whatever there is. The nice tech at Walgreens has come to know me and my Dad humor. Before I could say it, she said "What -- no Gardisil today?" Of course, Gardisil is for pre sexual folks to ward off HPV and the cancers they cause -- yeah -- that train left the Long Island Railroad station in the 70s...

And I picked up a new sleep drug Dr. Rigo wants me, and Wifey, to try: Ramelteon. Supposably (my friends tell me I use this spelling and pronunciation all the time now) it works differently -- some of Rigo's patients say it is a game changer; others, eh.

I joked with Wifey we should recreate the famous scene from the Madoffs -- when Bernie and Ruth were busted, and they decided to exit before bad stuff came. They each took a handful of benzos and said goodbyes -- but then just woke up the next day!

Bernie died in prison,and both sons (one from suicide, the other from cancer not helped by the stress of his Dad's evils), and Ruth likely wishes she and Bernie had taken a lot MORE...

So I don't think this will be the end -- hopefully it IS of insomnia -- one of my 3 causes of hypertension.

Which, by the way, is after just 8 days on Lisinopril and eating like a human instead of a frat boy, doing great. This am -- normal! Rigo bumped up my dosage just to "go for the gold" but it seems an imminent fatal CVA is less likely.

I sure hope so. I SO savor walks at dusk. I hope I get scores more of them.

Reaction to Meds

 I've always been lucky, I guess, in that my corpus responds well and fast to meds. I was told that at age 3 I got a bad rash when given penicillin, and so my whole life have claimed that as an allergy, though I've read that most older folks like me really DON'T have one -- but then again -- as I avoid Thailand and Amsterdam, haven't really needed to take penicillin.

The one drug that DOES get me is Advil -- man -- my otherwise iron clad stomach feels like ulcers develop instantly when I've taken it. So I stick with Tylenol and aspirin, when needed -- leaving the NSAIDS for others.

So last Thursday, after the hypertensive scare, where my reading was consistent with "Get thee to an ER," my doc started my on Lisinopril -- old school BP med. By yesterday, at another doc's office, my BP was already back to the "high but you're not gonna die imminently" range, and my new adult toy arrived!

No -- not THAT kind of adult toy -- the far less fun one -- a state of the art BP monitor. My doc says he really doesn't trust ANY non office machines, and we got one for Wifey after her stroke 5.5 years ago, and it was always tough to adjust the cuff -- she NEVER took her BP without my help.

But now they have auto cuff machines -- kind of like the ones you see at Walgreens and CVS -- and I treated myself to a $150 model -- it arrived. The readings were pretty, pretty, pretty, good -- barely elevated, and one this am was actually normal. Wifey took hers -- low normal -- as is her usual state.

Wifey had really low BP, which is what started her journey to the stroke. She saw a cardiologist who gave her a Young Frankenstein-like tilt table test -- he moved her body all sorts of angles to recreate her hypotensive state. Wifey had fainted a few times, with a trip to the ER to stitch up a head wound after she convinced them I didn't do it...

Anyway, this doc, long since de-licensed on account of Medicare fraud, put her on BP LOWERING meds, and told her to put salt on everything. Problem was, Wifey got older and larger, and refused to pay the MDVIP charges for our regular doc, and instead saw her friend Elizabeth's sister's boyfriend irregularly. Harris, nice fellow, didn't notice the uptick in her BP -- accentuated by the raising meds and salty diet.

Alas, it led to the stroke in January of '21, which was, mercifully, a mild one from which she has mostly fully recovered.

But given the lack of fun it is to take care of a stroke victim, assembling Team Wifey and driving her to a seemingly endless number of rehab appointments, I really do NOT wish to become a victim. I'm a better caretaker than care receiver anyway -- so it would be far worse for me.

So for now, I shall enjoy this seeming fast effect of my new meds. I see Dr. Rigo tomorrow am and will see the true progress, if any. In consult with Dr. Barry, I realize now that shunning alcohol completely isn't really needed -- just cut down a bit. 

Tuesday old friend Ronni came by and I poured her 1.5 Hendricks and tonics, and myself a healthy Zhyr, and boy was it nice. Yeah -- gonna face the new challenges OFF the wagon -- I think that suits me better...

But the diet remains. Yesterday D2 and I , along with enormous Betsy, had a magical day. We dropped her Jeep off at Tires Plus, where it got the needed oil change, filter changes, rotation, and new wipers. The place really WAS magic -- everything was free to her, as was the next visit to the gas station.

Gas is free to the Ds in Pinecrest. I wish I had that deal when I was in my 30s...

We had lunch at Crema, and I had a healthy poke tuna bowl. D2 was impressed -- usually it would be a big sandwich there. Later, we brought in Shahs of Kebab, and I ate like a human -- half the portion. Wow. 

D1, an amazing dietitian, has long said that if you eat less and exercise more -- you lose weight. Wow -- all of those years of higher ed I paid for meant something -- and  -- turns out -- she's correct!

So I plan to stay the course as long as the course is there.

Speaking of which, Ronni told us a tale of her old friend, a women's radiologist. We met her years ago -- she did the amniocentesis when Wifey was pregnant with D2, on account that Wifey was just old enough to check for Down Syndrome (everyone adds an S). D2 was just fine, and we learned from the doc's office en route to Charleston, with 3 year old D1 in her car seat, that she had a sister coming.

Anyway,, this doc was married to another doc -- long marriage, kids, big house, wealth. But her husband was diagnosed in his late 60s with an aggressive form of Alzheimers, and even at a relatively early stage, planned a family trip to Switzerland where he, his wife, and kids had a great dinner and the next day said goodbye to them and hello to euthanasia.

Their friends were shocked. "I saw Tom in the gym last week -- he was FINE! Why would he do that?" His now widow responded that he was a brilliant man, knew what was coming for himself and his family, got got while the gettin' was good.

I must say -- I admire that. Part of being a real man, after a lifetime of taking care of your family, is being able to gracefully exit before you burden THEM.

I sure hope to only visit Switzerland again for the gorgeous vistas and Summer asparagus (the restaurants make a comically big deal about that).

All I can do now is get lighter, keep the BP down, and savor each day.