today

That morning was cold. A bit damp. And the sun was not out with a haze of fog blanketing the world. Average for the time of year, I’d guess.

It was also the morning my back seized up. I woke up needing to pee. Just like every other morning in my life, it seemed lately. However, instead of drearily wandering to the bathroom in my underwear, I winced in agonizing pain and found it impossible to sit up.

“Strange,” was all I thought at the time. I struggled to my feet, hunched over at the waist, and shuffled to the toilet just 10 feet from my bed. I peed in this strange position as well. Not wanting to see if the angle I was at was a dream or not. After finishing, there was no flushing. That would have taken too much effort. Instead, a slow pivot back towards the bedroom and a slow descent back onto the mattress and box spring – no frame – that was the master suite.

A few hours later, I awoke again. It was well past 2 in the afternoon. I was late for work. Well, I would be since I was supposed to be there at 2:30 and I lived an hour away. The pain was still there. Puzzled, I struggled into the shower. Dropping my underwear – blue boxer briefs from Fruit of the Loom – on the bath mat and turned the water on. It hurt to reach down. I felt the water. Cold as ice.

“No good,” I muttered, waiting for it to heat up.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, steam started to rise from the bathtub behind the cheap dollar store shower curtain. The kind that get mold on them no matter how vigilant you are in spraying them down every day. You end up buying three a year. Still, the three bucks and tax spent is better than the 10 dollars you would for a nice one at Bed, Bath and Beyond or such a store. Just the fact that you didn’t have to enter those broken down housewife den of sadness was worth the effort of replacing these things every so often.

Stepping into the tub to get wet proved to be quite a challenge. The back still wouldn’t give an inch, and lifting legs up that far hunched over was a task not for the weak or weary at heart. Neither of which I consider myself anymore. Finally in the tub, I let the water soak my head, then shifted around 180 degrees to let it hit my back.

After about three minutes of boiling hot water to the back, it loosened up a bit. I could stand straight. This allowed me to lather up and shampoo my head. When the hot water heater finally spit out its last bit of water and the shower became lukewarm, then cold, I shut it off.

A shiver came over me as the 59 degree temperature of the house hit the steam room weather I was in inside the shower.

I grabbed a towel and dried off as quickly as possible. My dick shriveled up even smaller than it already was at the frigid air. One day I’d like to have the money to turn on my heater and not count the money flowing out of it. One day. Ha. Yeah right.

Getting dressed, I could feel my back tightening up again. By the time I was at work, it was stuck in place again. Eight hours of sitting at a desk, surrounded by mediocre assholes who wouldn’t know good journalism if it was handed to them on the Internet for free, month after month had finally taken its toll on me, I decided.

My boss looked at me. Shaking his head.

“We’re getting too old for this,” he said with a shrill laugh.

“Shit, when are you not too old for this?” I responded. “This isn’t the Army I signed up for.”

Laughs all around.

The Marine wives in the place gave their icy stares to us. Yet another anti-military joke. Yep, we’re full of them. Not just full of shit.

I struggled to make it through the day. Taking more Tylenol than I had in the previous two years in one day. I could feel the ulcer forming in my stomach from it. But it helped.

A little.

If only I knew what it meant. Now three months later. Sitting in a white gown, my butt crack exposed in the back. Me not caring that the semi-intelligent and incredibly hot blonde nurse is looking at me, sick and troubled.

She has sympathetic eyes, but they’re trained to be that way. And one thing I’m good at, it’s telling the difference in the eyes. They never lie. Except for this one girl…

Without insurance, you avoid finding out about the little things. Then they become big things.

Today’s the day I found out I have cancer. Prostate cancer. Should have known about it years ago. At least that’s what the doctor told me. “You should have noticed the signs,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I did,” I said. “But, I had three dollars to my name and 40 grand in debt. Let’s see you go to the doctor then.”

He shook his head.

I picked up my pants. Put them back on. Then walked out without paying the bill.