Happy Birthday Sean! You many not know this, but I was the first person you mom could get a hold of to say you were born. With those odds against you, better godparents then I were chosen.
Enjoy the chocolate cup cakes with “sprinkles”. We obviously didn’t keep you on the cape long enough to teach you that they are Jimmies.
Maybe next summer….
Yesterday I put gas in Scoot. It’s only a 3 gallon tank, so I have to fill up often.
Usually I fill up based on the miles driven. Each fill up I reset the tripometer to zero and scoot away until around 140 to 160 miles. Ideally, I can get 180 miles from one tank, but that’s pushing the fumes.
When I filled up yesterday I hit the button to reset the tripometer, then hit it a few more times to get to the actual odometer (I only have one *ometer display).
I had just shy of 17,000 miles on the scooter!!!
When I bought Scoot in October of 2006 there were less then 500 miles on the odometer. So in almost four years I’ve done some insane riding. Not nearly as many as PBJ, but he’s a little crazy… And technically, I have two more months before the four year anniversary. Fall riding is some of the best, so the miles are sure to rack up!
It was just last July 19th that the odometer rolled over 10k. You know, that’s a lot of trips to Beanville….
This winter… we’ll definitely have to catch up on all that delayed maintenance…
What won’t fit on the Scoot??
Note: I’ve put far more many miles on the Zippy car 
I had a trip to Beanville today. MDF (Mostly Dead Fred) got his first of at least three professional hair cuts.
Seeing as it was such a sunny day, utilizing the scoot was an ideal way to travel.
Or so I thought.
I noticed that the air had a rather unpleasant smell. More then just the typical dead raccoon, or worse, dead skunk, the air was absolutely foul. I’m not sure how many car drivers noticed, because the heat index encouraged them all to use a/c, but in case you missed it, the world in general smelled pretty bad.
There just isn’t enough Fabreeze.
The heatwave is forecasted to continue until the hurricane passes. I watched the weather guesser for the first time in months tonight… he said it would NOT cool down overnight. I’ve now retreated to my room and turned on the a/c. It’s 86°F in here.
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Today at the Brigham….
Dr O cleaned up a layer of MDF. He said he was going to trim conservatively to avoid any potential bleeding. Since I can’t trim MDF myself (it’s an awkward angle), I have two more trims scheduled.
Dr S, the popsicle doc, stopped by and I asked questions that had very revealing answers.
I wanted to know if popsicle treatments should be done proactively while the tumors were small. Dr S said he’d rather wait until a particular tumor was causing me discomfort and then treat it. Dr S also informed me that MDF is the largest size tumor he felt comfortable freezing to avoid side effects (swelling, infection, scaring, etc).
The flaw is this: if we wait for a tumor to be so big that it is causing me problems, then the tumor could potentially be too big to freeze.
I’ll be staged in a few weeks and we’ll see how the chemo is working on my insides. Having the five weeks in between treatments eased some of the side effects (cramping in hands & feet, fluttering heart beat), but caused others (hello hot flashes!). Less then a week out from restarting chemo, I’m cramping again, and my heart is all a flutter. I guess I should be happy the hot flashes stopped because when it’s 90°F outside no one needs more heat.
Have I mentioned, I’m soooo tired of having cancer? Yeah. Definitely. If I could return my cancer to whatever thrift store in hell sold it to me, I would. I wouldn’t even complain about the restocking fee! Unfortunately, I don’t have a receipt
After a year of hearing people laugh about my chocolate ice cream voice mail greeting, I took the opportunity today to change my greeting.
I don’t know how to get a good mp3 or wave file to post here for all to hear. If I do figure out something, I’ll let you know.
In the meantime, if you call me, I may not answer just so you can have the pleasure of hearing my new greeting.
UPDATE!
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Not the best recording, but good enough… hit the play button! |
I’ve been riding to Beanville (for cancer business) way too much. I decided that the scoot needed some time away from the hustle and bustle of the city. PBJ felt sorry for me and said he’d come along “for the ride”.
It’s a ride, so that’s kind of the point.
First, I needed to pick a geographically area to visit. I decided on central MA. Close, but so far away that I would have to refuel at least once.
Second, I had to find some POI’s (Points of Interest for you non-GPS speak people) inside of central MA. I wanted to keep things on the cheap, so the freer the better. I came up with this list:
Add to this list two stops at Dunkin Donuts, a visit to the BMW motorcycle dealership, and a small shopping stop at the Harbor Freight in Attleboro and that completes the POI list.
We started with me gassing up the scoot and PBJ checking something mechanical on the CBR. Sally, the GPS not the person, was already trying to route me home. I hope this wasn’t a sign. I hadn’t even left town yet! Finally I realized I had to take out “home” at the end of the route. Sally is all about the destination, POI’s be damned.
We tore out onto the highway. I fully expected bumper to bumper going over the Bridge. The backup route was already in my head (the route to avoid the backup, not magically use the canal tunnel resident sticker). I watched the traffic levels coming from the Bridge and realized that traffic wasn’t all that heavy for the last Saturday morning of the summer season.
We sailed right over the bridge with no fuss.
We kept zooming along until Wentham. PBJ pulled off the highway for the first unofficial POI stop.
PBJ needed caffeine. I did partake in some caffeine myself. The Dunkins isn’t easy to get in and out of due to the outlet mall. I’d recommend hitting a different location if you are in the area.
We were back on the bikes, and back on the highway, to the first official POI stop.
Admittedly, I had visited this POI before. I have the flat penny to prove it. I used the composting facilities (you’ll have to visit yourself to learn what I’m typing about) and picked up flat pennies for Sean & Catie. PBJ made fun of the farmers market, calling it a flea market. The vendors were in the process of packing up, so I can see how he could have been confused. I also picked up a couple of tourist brochures in case we needed to find a substitute POI on the fly.
Back on Rte 2, and just a few exits up to the second official POI. Before arriving, I missed a turn and Sally, the GPS not the person, ‘recalculated’ to completely forget about the POI, as well as the one after it, and start routing me to the fourth POI. Silly Sally. I pulled over, PBJ corrected me, and we pulled a U-turn to get back on track.
Here we are at the second official POI:
We lucked out and also found a small street fair in progress. The guy doing the magic show was funny, sneaking in some adult digs as the children remained mesmerized by the colored hankies. The small town fire department had some technical difficulties with the big ladder truck. I noticed all the firefighters were young guys. Thinking about it later, I realized that due to seniority, they probably all drew the short straw.
Next stop was the third official POI. First, we gassed up in town. Full service stations are a joke, I just want to state that for the record. Okay, so you can’t fuel up my bike for me, the least you can do is offer to clean the bugs off my windshield. Just say’n…
The Old Mill is a restaurant, gift shop, and pub in an old mill. We ate in the pub. PBJ thought we were ‘overdressed’ for the restaurant. I’m not sure if that meant we needed to remove all our riding gear to eat in the restaurant, or if he though the restaurant was snoody. Either way, I didn’t get to feed my left over corn fritters to the ducks.
While we ate, we decided to toss in one of the add-on POI’s. PBJ found the address of the BMW motorcycle dealership, added their address to Jill (his GPS, not the person) and found that they weren’t too far away. After we finished eating, it was back on the motorbikes and I followed PBJ to the dealership.
PBJ was able to sit on a few ‘dream’ bikes, try on some ‘dream’ gloves, and I saw my first Silver Wing (Honda scooter). I thought Sally the person should show Dave her husband the Silver Wing.
We played at the dealership until closing time. Then it was back to the official POI list. Next stop, a random point on the side of Route 140 that in Google Earth street view showed a wide shoulder on the road, complete with a pickup truck parked.
I think there is a trail head for hiking, but we were just there for a stop and pictures.
Back on the motorbikes, and back to the official POI list. We headed off to the last official stop: the Candy Mansion.
Sweet heavens they had an ice cream bar. You get a cup with ice cream and then get to do all the toppings yourself. Except the whipped cream. Apparently people cannot be trusted with whipped cream in self applied form. The topped ice cream must be brought back to the counter where a staff person will put whipped cream on.
Finish with chocolate jimmies. Once done, realize that we paid way too much for the pleasure of topping our own ice cream. Drats. Did pick up some candy bars without paying a fortune.
Use the facilities, then back on the bikes. We knew that there would be at least one stop and stretch on the ride home, but we decided to play it by ear as to when or how far.
We cruised down the highway, passing the Wentham exit with the morning Dunkins stop. We get down to the 95 exit off of 495 and PBJ is behind me with his blinker on indicating he is exiting.
Huh? That doesn’t take us anywhere close to home. That exit takes us out of state. I turn my blinker on and play along. It’s moments like this I wish we had a way to talk to each other.
Once on 95 south, PBJ pulls over into a rest area. He tells me he’s going to Harbor Freight in Attleboro and that he had motioned for me to keep riding home alone. Since he’s played along with my POI list all day, I figure the least I could do is make one of his POI stops.
I follow him. I must say, I’m a terrible follower. Having someone I know to follow gives me license to look around, let my mind drift to off-topic things, and just not pay attention in general. When I lead, I’m constantly looking in my mirrors, looking ahead in traffic, just paying attention in general. Motorbiking is interactive, and when I’m a follower, I stop acting.
We arrive at Harbor Freight in Attleboro. It’s in a strip mall near a Chuck e’ Cheese. PBJ said we can’t visit Chuck, or have any of his cheese. He head inside HF for tools. This location is larger then the Fall River location. It’s also 15 miles further from home. We love it.
After determining that a few of the boxes PBJ wants to pick up aren’t ideal for lashing to the passenger seat of the scoot (dimensions, not weight), we stop at the Dunkins next door for one last caffeine fill up.
We hit the slab and head for home. One last gas up in Middleboro so I don’t hit E, and we pull in the driveway around 8:30pm.
I am happy.
Wednesday I traveled to Beanville on the Scoot. For those of you not on my Facebook, I have requested that my next GPS have weather instead of traffic. But really, if I could have all three (maps, traffic & weather) in one unit, that would be sweet too. But how do you see the green rain over the green golf courses….?
My point is, I got a little wet. Nothing soaktastic, just north of damp and south of soggy.
Riding Scoot makes me happy. Having upbeat appointments with all my docs also makes me happy.
Dr S, the popsicle doc, got his first good look at (mostly) dead Fred (a.k.a. MDF). MDF is like squishy hamburger ever so slightly cooked. Seriously, he squishes, just like hamburger. But MDF is also kind of stuck together, just like ever so slightly cooked hamburger. You know, you can flip the burger, it holds together on the spatula, but it’s nowhere near hot enough to remove the “consuming raw or undercooked meats, poultry, seafood, shellfish or eggs may increase your risk of food borne illness” warning label. That is what MDF is like right now.
Dr S is going to have Dr O, the plastics guy, look at cleaning up MDF next week. Since MDF is less bulky after being turned into a popsicle (why is “popsicle” not in my dictionary??), I’m curious as to how big of a hole MDF will leave behind.
Actually, I think that’s what all the docs are curious about.
Dr S is open to more popsicle treatments in the future. First I have to get MDF cleaned up and healed.
NP A is also curious about how MDF will turn out. Popsicle treatments are my new weapon of choice, and for the most part, can be used in conjunction with just about any chemo they throw at me. While I don’t want to go into the minutia of my tumors, let’s just say if any promising trials appear on the horizon, I’m still in the game.
I also made NP A laugh when I talked about putting q-tips in the tumor holes (two have holes…). One I can put the q-tip in and clean out all the gunk without any pain. The other hole I stick the q-tip in and it causes a stabbing pain up into my arm. “Oh neat, I can put a q-tip in this hole. Ouch! Owwww!!!!! Don’t put the q-tip in the hole!!”
The other laugh is that there is no way I’m picking up a hot date when my foob is covered with future hamburger popsicles oozing gunk.
I think the only aggravation was the nurse on the infusion floor couldn’t use the technology required to print out my blood tube labels. 15 minutes to log in? And then you had to call the help desk anyway? Ugh. Here, let me access my port while you do that….
No, I didn’t say or do that. I so wanted to though….
Scootering home wasn’t too bad. I left Dana Farber close to 7pm so I knew there was no hope/need of the HOV/Zipper lane. It was getting dark though, and I was all about honking at people to turn their lights on (gray accord), stop texting while driving (silver Miata), and stop cutting me off (white camry w/maryland plates).
Really, a scooter ride without quacking my horn just doesn’t feel like a satisfying trip.
