Medical Update

by Frank M. Roberts

January 2016

While I was conferring with the 'cardiovasculist' about getting my third defibrilator installed, I was thinking about a scheduled second session of physical therapy to get my right arm working again. The rest of my bones are slowly turning to dust. It's called bone degeneration which, unlike most diseases, is stubbornly 'cureless.'
Simply put, the 'bones-turn to dust' deal is a process accompanied by a helluva lot of pain. When the bones finally say bye-bye so does the patient. Right now, I get about with a cane. Im supposed to use a walker, but my wife doesn't have the strength to get it in and out of the car. I feel like a resident of 'Dilemma City'. I don't use it in the house because it scares one of my cats-- priority-priority. Next, I am told, is a wheelchair. Maybe I'll be like one of those characters in the wheelchair ads - grinning as I smilingly do the wheelchair wheelies. Without the cane/walker/wheelchair you learn the art of wobble walking. Oh, yeah, I can sit down but, that hurts too. Lying down is salvation.

And, there is the added bonus of wearing a doo-hickey around your neck. Instructions are something like- "push button before falling." Other annoyances are dry mouth, thin blood, and a hangnail.

Don't bother contributing any bucks. For what? There is no research, no cure. It's like watching a really good movie - you know it will end, eventually. The popcorn runs out before the movie does. Not movies, but plays, are something I really miss. We used to go to all the local productions - heck, I performed in many of them - but now, just walking to the mailbox is a chore. My chauffeur (nee wife) is not thrilled about night time driving. Netflix and books keep me going - mostly, being part of Jimbo's crew.

The so-called good news is that I'm a mere 87 and I just might have a few more years. Meanwhile, I can endure the pain which ranges from 'damn' to almost taking the Lord's name in vain. The pain seems to increase with regularity. The worst cotton-pickin' news was when I was told I could no longer drive a car. My last stint behind the wheel was in November, 2013. At least I don't have to worry about speeding tickets. Driving was something I dearly loved. Farewell to those wonderful drives to Arkansas to visit members of the family living in that lovely state.

I first found out about my mess when my g.p. said 'sheesh' and made arrangements to work with a specialist in Greenville, N. C. When I first saw that learned gent he broke the news about the breakin' bones. "WHAT?", I quietly yelled. I admit I sort-of smiled when he put it this way: He grinned like Mr. Hyde and asked, "how old are you?" I said, "85." and he said, "I hope I make it to 85, but I hope I'm in better shape." BA-DING.

People tell me I look pretty good. I have a standard reply: "I wish I felt as good as I look." I have another standard response. When people ask, "how are you feeling?" I ask them, "how much time do you have?"

No, you are not invited to a pity party - I'm certainly not celebrating. The only thing I'm not complaining about is the past. I loved my time growing-up and school years, my time in the Army, the enjoyment I got out of writing, 40 years of reviewing and interviewing mostly country stars, and my work on the radio and on teevee. So, I had a good life which included 54 mostly happy years of marriage (wife no. 1 lasted seven years). Then came three kids, five grand-kids, two great-granddaughters.

Currently, I'm doing the same work, 'skeletaly' (review this column) and (shameless plug) my radio shows which just went international. (Go to RCH103 if you're curious and a glutton for punishment.

To quote Roy and Dale --- "happy trails --- ."

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In 1937, when most folks were struggling to make ends meet, Gary Cooper, who often portrayed those folks, had an annual salary of $483,000, more money than the heads of IBM, and General Motors. According to biographer, Jeffery (cq) Myers, The Coop had a few female 'friends' to support.

Speaking of that esteemed actor, who hated Commies - the Communist newspaper, Daily Worker, once polled its readers about their favorite performers. The winners: Cooper and Claudette Colbert.

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Finally, these pieces of Biblical trivia: The longest verse in the Bible is Esther 8:9 (90 words). Want to make sure? You know where to go to look it up; The Bible can be read aloud from beginning to end in about 70 hours. Pass the lozenges.