I got congratulated a lot Friday for my birthday when it was really my mom who deserved all the credit. I was, literally, along for the ride. I spent part of the day, as a man who pretends the best is yet to come, looking up the results of my most recent blood tests to confirm I still had blood and in preparation for an office call with my endocrinologist who is one of the half dozen or so physicians I see regularly.
I like to think of them as "Team Bill". They, on the other hand, are not too crazy at that moniker. I think the tee shirts were a touch too much.
Ten days ago was a bit tense as my urologist in our first meeting since I finished chemotherapy, harshed my buzz by scheduling a prostate exam (people often say prostrate exam- I love that). But I've reached an age where you grumble, drop trou, and bend over. My Air Force experience will serve me in good stead.How ironic as an aged FARC, I'd feel such kinship with a dreidel. I haven't stopped, but I have slowed down and more and more I've become the old guy I spent a large part of my life avoiding. Over six dozen years of trying to outrun the sound of my own steps in fright, I've learned to appreciate the irony of not having to worry about a legacy when so little was accomplished.
-bill kenny
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