It’s 7:17 a.m.

And so begins Linda’s great foray into our nation’s vaunted healthcare system; and were it not for unions, she’d be consigned to the ice-flow.
The sun is not up yet, but the eastern sky is light.
We got up at 6 a.m., and there were the usual chores to do, like put away the dishes from the dishwasher, which I can’t do at 152 mph.
The extent of my involvement so far is to be taxi-driver, and make snide remarks that make dead-serious people laugh.
Mention the dreaded C-word, and conversation turns turgid. People frown and express concern. Tub-thumping zealots start praying.
Well, I don’t want to lose the best friend I ever had, and don’t think I will.
“You and Linda should value your remaining time together........”
“Oh come on,” I said. “I don’t think she’s gonna kick the bucket.”
“It’s lymphatic cancer — fairly common; even Fred Thompson has it, and he’s running for president.”
“It’s easily treated into remission with chemo.”
And that’s what begins today (Wednesday, September 26, 2007).
The import of all this is that I probably won’t be visiting the mighty Curve any more this year.
Bill called last night and I said I had canceled coming to my 45th Brandywine High-School reunion — a shame, since I feel more attached to them than to Houghton. Probably because they’re not zealots.
So far this year we (I) have only been to the mighty Curve twice; once on our own.
I have the Curve web-cam on in the background, and bar none the mighty Curve is the BEST railfan spot I have ever been to — and I’ve been to quite a few; even Californy.
Last night I had the web-cam on about 9 p.m., and it was pitch-dark. Slowly a tiny yellow blob started across the screen from the right; a train headed west. Suddenly its trailers were illuminated as the train proceeded. A train was headed down, and its headlight was illuminating the trailers. One up; one down. “Ain’ nuthin’ like the mighty Curve,” I said.
I turn the web-cam on, and within five minutes a train is going by — often one is passing when I turn on the web-cam.
The thought comes to mind that I could probably drive there (or even my high-school reunion) myself, but I don’t like leaving Linda here alone.
There’s always the possibility she could get very sick. It’s happened twice so far — and who knows what the chemo will do.
In our humble experience this is a flip-flop from how things were a year-or-two ago; when it was me we worried about.
I am pretty good, for the moment, I guess. (I say that because not too long ago I was in worse condition.)

“Linda” is my wife of nearly 40 years. She has lymphatic cancer.

RE: “were it not for unions.......” My siblings are flagrantly anti-union. I belonged to a union when I drove transit-bus for Rochester’s Regional Transit Service (1977-1993). Seemed worthwhile.

RE: “152 mph.....” My brother-in-Delaware (Bill) bragged that his turbocharged Volvo station-wagon was capable of 152 mph. I lived in northern Delaware as a teenager, and graduated from Brandywine High-School there in 1962.

My siblings are all “tub-thumping zealots;” I’m not, and am therefore reprehensible.

Horseshoe Curve (the “mighty Curve”), west of Altoona, Pennsylvania, is by far the BEST railfan spot I have ever been to. Horseshoe Curve is a national historic site. It was a trick used by the Pennsylvania Railroad to get over the Allegheny mountains without steep grades. Horseshoe Curve was opened in 1854, and is still in use. I am a railfan. The Curve has a web-cam.

“Houghton” is Houghton College, from where I graduated with a BA in 1966. I’ve never regretted it. Houghton is a tub-thumping religious college.

RE: “It’s happened twice so far.....” Two trips to the Emergency Room.

RE: “this is a flip-flop from how things were a year-or-two ago; when it was me we worried about........” Two years ago I was experiencing dizzy-spells, but am not any more. They’re why I retired. I also had a stroke October 26, 1993.