The Nature of Things

At 55 yoa I had congestive heart failure and as a result I have this nagging thrombosis in my left leg- an occlusion, a blockage. I've had it roto-rootered 3 or 4 times so now it's only 95% clogged. Needless to say that leg is what I sarcastically refer to as my good leg. It is prone to infections, it feels like I'm wearing a ten pound sock that is wrinkled up on the bottom and swings between all the wonderful sensations of neuropathy. At least it feels hot more often than not.

My favorite chore is blowing the never ending stream of leaves from our giant "Shady Lady" tree. (More sarcasm). While not cussing the ridiculousness of blowing leaves when I could just mulch it up with a lawn mower in ONE pass but alas my landlords chose fucking pea rock.

Pea rock is great for people who don't mind spraying chemicals in their environment although I see a lot of weeds becoming resistant to even the gasoline grade weed killers sprayed around our infrastructure. We pull the weeds by hand because we have fur babies.

At any rate, I managed to back into a potted plant which led to a fall and a nasty cut on my good leg. The back of it where an older, not as flexible man can't see very well. The wife flushed it out and applied the anti-infection cream but to no avail. A trip to the doctor, some antibiotics and a few weeks of hobbling around and it is on its way to becoming yet another scar.

After the loss of our little fluff ball Lily the house was feeling empty and sad. Tinker kitty would meow loudly at 5AM in search of his playmate. Tinker loves his puppies and there is nothing better than coming home to a dog. So happy to see you, it takes the strain of the day away. So we stopped at a shelter to find a cat friendly dog. The first one to be let out of the cage came straight up to me and bit my good leg.

The bite became infected while I was doing a very rare out of town gig a 3 hours drive one way. By the time I got back to town on Sunday afternoon it was swollen, very angry in appearance and I was running a low grade fever so it was a necessary evil to go to the ER (expensive room) at the hospital. Another scar for my good leg.

I try my best to shield my left lowermost extremity from befalling injury but it seems like it is marked by destiny to absorb the impact of the chaos that is life for the old and unsteady. My right leg which is less affected by the diabetic induced neuropathy seems to escape the onslaught because it is far less likely to get infected by relatively minor cuts and bites. That seems to just be the way things on this planet work, its very nature.

Last night my 18 year old Tinker kitty was circling my legs and meowing impatiently as I'm exiting my van which is a fucking process with groceries, cell phone, medicines and the like. I didn't notice he decided to lay right where I'm stepping and somehow I managed to step on his tail which caused him to retaliate with a hard bite to the only place that the nature of things insists upon...my good fucking leg. Damn it man. I would have been better off stepping on a bear trap.

The wife is yelling at me for bleeding on the floor, Mia the puppy dog is trying to help by licking up the blood. For a guy on Eliquis anti-clot medicine I quit bleeding within minutes. The question is whether or not to wait and see if it gets infected or just go ahead and call the doctor for more antibiotics. I'm doing my best to keep the wound washed out with anti-microbial soap and hot water then slather on the Neosporin. Stubborn as I am I have no choice but to wait and see.

That's just my nature. ☮️❤️😁🎶👣🖖

Teeth marks from Tinker the Mighty Hunter.

He is a handsome boy!