Clots as in Blood

Well, it’s about that time to meander over to the medical center to have a blood sample taken.

One reason I have this done so often is to monitor PSA levels, an indicator of prostate health.  An increasing level indicates renewed cancer growth. Although insofar as I don’t plan to do anything about it should this happen, I guess I could skip these bloodletting sessions.

I know. You’re asking, “What happens if you don’t do anything when the cancer returns?” The answer is, Eventually I die, which is exactly what happens if the cancer doesn’t return.

Anyway, if you really want to screw up your PSA readings, have sex the night before.  I found that out the hard (sorry) way because for some reason, over the years not one medical professional at any level of my treatment bothered to mention it.  Not the urologist, radiation surgeon, medical technicians, or even the guy who pedaled the radiation machine to make it run. I learned it from speaking with other prostate cancer patients.

So the blood-letting routine is, no sex and no breakfast.

The vampire brandishing the needle is an old crone, bent over, white hair, wrinkled like a cracked plate. I figure she’s probably a year or two younger than me.  She finishes up, tells me with a smile to “Have a nice day and a good breakfast.”

“Breakfast? What about sex?” I ask her.

She fixes a gaze my way, and pure deadpan, says, “You talkin’ to me?”  And we both crack up.

Came home and had breakfast.  So I’m batting .500.