The 4AM Gamble: What Did I Forget This Time?

15 Wednesday Apr 2026

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The long-awaited day finally arrives tomorrow.

At 4:00 a.m., my alarm will go off, signaling the start of a long—but hopefully rewarding—day. I’ll roll out of bed, grab some breakfast, and head out to meet my fishing buddy at his place by 5:30.

But before I ever get to the water, today was about preparation.

After spending hours out in the heat working on crafts, I came home and shifted gears—loading up the kayak, rods, and every piece of electronics I’ll need. I made sure batteries were fresh, gear was in place, and all safety equipment was accounted for. Or at least… most of it.

Ever since the great Easter weekend cleanup (or “panic clean,” if we’re being honest), there are still a few things that seem to have vanished into thin air. I had a feeling that once I started moving everything around, I’d forget where I put something important.

I was right.

A few weeks ago, I bought some proper red safety flags for the back of my kayak—bright, reflective, and actually visible. In Alabama, anything over 12 feet is supposed to have a red flag attached, and my old solution—a once-red rag—is now so faded it looks more like a tired brown surrender flag than anything useful.

And of course… I can’t find the new ones.

I know how this story ends. I’ll stumble across them one day while I’m tearing the house apart looking for something else I can’t find. That’s just how it works.

But missing flags or not, I’m determined to make the most of tomorrow. A good day on the water doesn’t come from perfect preparation—it comes from being there.

Somewhere in between all of that, I’ve also got a craft fair coming up Saturday. Today, despite the heat, I managed to put together a couple of new trial pieces—a rustic serving tray and a small hanging planter. I didn’t go all in on them just yet. No sense in making a dozen of something if nobody wants one.

But if they sell? I’ll be making more.

There’s something satisfying about working with your hands—whether it’s shaping wood into something useful or casting a line and waiting on that tug. Different kind of work, same kind of reward.

Tomorrow, I’m hoping for both.

A Night I Didn’t See Coming (But Won’t Forget Anytime Soon)

13 Monday Apr 2026

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Photo courtesy of the BJCC

Last night, I did something I honestly never thought I’d get the chance to do.

Thanks to one of my daughters, my family and I went to see Martin Short and Steve Martin live at the Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Complex—or as most of us around here call it, the BJCC.

And let me tell you… I haven’t laughed that hard in a very long time.

Now, the night almost didn’t turn out quite as great as it did. The original tickets were way up in the nosebleed section—you know, the kind where you’re just hoping the big screen works because the stage looks about the size of a postage stamp. But thanks to my daughter being persistent (and apparently a pro at ticket stalking), she checked again later and found stage-level seats for the same price.

Same price. Better seats. That kind of luck doesn’t happen often.

The show itself wasn’t just comedy—it was storytelling, history, and two guys who clearly enjoy every second of what they do. They talked about their childhoods, how they got started, and even the first time they met—which, as it turns out, was during Three Amigos. I had no idea that Steve Martin actually wrote that movie, let alone that it played a role in their long-running friendship.

One of the highlights of the night for me was hearing Steve Martin play the banjo. That alone would’ve been worth the price of admission. He was joined by the incredibly talented Steep Canyon Rangers, and together they added a whole different layer to the show. It wasn’t just funny—it was genuinely impressive musicianship mixed right in with the comedy.

It made the whole night feel a little more personal, like you weren’t just watching a performance—you were getting a glimpse into their lives.

Now… I’d be lying if I said every single moment was comfortable.

Between the body suit Martin Short wore—where absolutely nothing was left to the imagination—and the two clearly over-served ladies sitting behind us providing their own running commentary, the night got a little more “eventful” than expected. At times, it felt like we had a bonus side show going on right from our seats.

Let’s just say… There were moments I didn’t know whether to laugh at the stage or turn around and laugh at what was happening behind me.

But honestly? That just made the night even more memorable.

From start to finish, the show was well worth it. Great seats, great laughs, live music, and time spent with family—those are the kinds of nights you don’t take for granted.

And for me, it was one of those rare experiences where you walk away thinking,
“Yeah… I’m really glad I got to do that.”

The Craft Fair Gamble

11 Saturday Apr 2026

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If there’s one thing I’ve learned doing craft fairs, it’s this: never expect the same market twice.

This is my third year setting up booths, unloading tables, and hoping today is the day I finally figure out “the one thing everyone has to have.” So far… that mystery item is still in hiding.

For those who don’t know, I do laser engraving and cutting. I’ve engraved just about anything that will sit still long enough—wood, concrete, glass, mirrors, slate tile, even white tiles. I’ve also tried to think outside the box, turning scrap wood into pieces that are a little different from the usual.

There is a market for this kind of work—I’ve seen it with my own eyes. One weekend I’ll sell just about everything I brought, and I go home feeling like a crafting genius. Then I spend the next week busting my tail trying to restock… only to show up at the next fair and sell absolutely nothing.

Today was one of those “nothing” days.

Now, to be fair, there is a small upside to not selling anything—you don’t have to rush home and panic-build inventory for next weekend. So I guess that’s my silver lining.

I had some interesting neighbors today. The lady to my left was selling handmade pot holders. She had a steady stream of people stopping by, but I couldn’t tell if they were buying or just admiring her work.

To my right was a lady selling crocheted items, and I can confidently say—she did just fine. I heard her more than once explaining which forms of payment she accepted, which is always a good sign you’re making sales.

Somewhere nearby was another gentleman doing woodcraft like me, mostly engraved oak charcuterie boards. I couldn’t see his booth very well, so I’m not sure how he did. But from what I’ve noticed over time, the charcuterie board craze might be cooling off a bit. Seems like what was once the hot item isn’t quite as hot as it used to be.

And that’s the challenge.

I’m still trying to find that one product that flies off the table every single time. So instead, I bring a little bit of everything. One fair, something random sells like crazy. The next fair—like today—it just sits there looking back at me.

I’ve walked other booths, watched what people are buying, and followed other makers online. They’ll tell you, “Make this—it’ll sell all day long.” Maybe for them. For me? Not so much.

It can get a little discouraging.

But here’s the thing—I actually enjoy the process. I like being out in the garage, creating something out of nothing. I like experimenting, even if it doesn’t turn into a best-seller. And truth be told, I enjoy the craft fairs themselves… even the slow ones.

Because when the crowds thin out and the sales aren’t happening, that’s when the conversations start. You meet people. You swap stories. You laugh a little. And sometimes, that ends up being worth more than a table full of sold-out inventory.

So no, I haven’t found “the one thing” yet.

But I’m still looking. And in the meantime, I’ve got a garage, a laser, and another craft fair next weekend… which means I’ve got another roll of the dice.

Test Results Pending… Floors Not So Much

09 Thursday Apr 2026

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I’ve got a couple of updates since the last round of chaos, and like everything else lately, it’s a mix of “well, that’s good news” and “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

First off, I saw a post from my doctor’s office saying they plan to reopen on Monday. Now, I’ll be honest—I don’t know how they’re going to be mentally ready for that. After everything that’s happened, I can’t imagine just flipping the sign back to “Open” and jumping right back into caring for patients like nothing ever happened.

I do have some test results I need to get, but at this point, I’m not too worried about them. I could call, but something tells me they’re going to be completely overwhelmed. Phones are ringing off the hook, patients are trying to reschedule, and emotions are still running high. I think I’ll give them a few days. If they call me, great. If not, I’ll check in later when things settle down—at least a little.

They also mentioned they’re looking for another doctor to take over the practice. That could take some time, and honestly, who knows how that’s all going to play out. But I’ve got a backup plan. There’s another doctor I’ve seen before, someone I actually know pretty well outside of the office. We crossed paths a lot through Scouts—he was a scoutmaster in another district—and we’ve stayed in touch over the years. We’re even friends on Facebook, so he’s already got a front-row seat to my “medical adventures” without ever opening a chart. If things go south with my current doctor’s office, I know where my records will be heading.

Meanwhile, over at my son’s house, the saga continues.

The water mitigation team came back today to check on the fans and dehumidifiers. They went around testing the walls and floors for moisture. The good news? The walls are drying out just like they should.

The bad news? The floor… not so much.

So tomorrow, they’re coming back to start tearing up the flooring so the slab can dry out properly. Nothing says “progress” quite like ripping out perfectly good flooring. They’re also planning to remove a few of the fans from the bathroom, which should at least lower the noise level from “airport runway” down to “only mildly annoying.”

It’s been quite the adventure so far—and we’re not even close to the end.

Once everything is dry enough, they’ll move on to the restoration phase. That’s the part my son is really looking forward to… mainly because it means we’re finally heading in the direction of “normal.” He’s also hoping that by tomorrow evening—or at least by Saturday—most of the fans will be gone. I think we’re all looking forward to that.

Of course, my wife has asked me more than once if there was anything that could have been done to prevent all of this.

Short answer? No.

Long answer? Still no… unless you want to hop in a time machine and have a conversation with the original plumbers. It could’ve been a weak solder joint, a slight shift in the slab, or something else entirely hidden beneath the surface. Without tearing everything apart beforehand—or having some kind of superpower X-ray vision—there’s just no way to know. Sometimes things just fail, and you deal with them when they do.

And speaking of dealing with it, tomorrow my son has somewhere he needs to be, so he won’t be around to let the mitigation team in.

Which means… You guessed it… I’ll be making the 45-minute drive.

And you know what? I don’t mind one bit.

Because at the end of the day, this whole mess—doctor’s offices, test results, torn-up floors, and all—is just part of life. Messy, unpredictable, sometimes frustrating… but it also gives us chances to show up for each other.

Even if it means driving 45 minutes just to let someone in the door.

And honestly… compared to everything else going on, that’s the easy part.

Grace Through the Chaos

08 Wednesday Apr 2026

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Currently, I’m in my recliner—coffee in hand, heating pad doing its best to negotiate peace with my back. And as I sit here, I can honestly say this past weekend is one I wouldn’t care to repeat anytime soon.

The emotional rollercoaster alone was enough to wear me out.

A few months ago, my doctor of 40 years was involved in a near-fatal car accident. For four decades, this man has been more than just a doctor—he’s been a steady presence in my life. The kind of doctor who knows you, not just your chart.

Since the accident, his daughter—a nurse practitioner—has been stepping in and taking care of his patients. The last I heard, he was in rehab and making progress. There was hope. Even with the complications from his pancreas injury, things seemed to be heading in the right direction.

Then Easter weekend came.

We had family over and made a conscious decision to set aside the plumbing chaos and focus on what Easter is really about. For a little while, everything felt normal again. Laughing, eating, spending time together—it was a much-needed pause.

But Monday morning had other plans.

Like I usually do, I started my day with a devotion and then sat down to scroll through Facebook. That’s when everything shifted.

Right there on the screen was the news—my doctor of 40 years had passed away due to complications from his pancreas.

Just like that… he was gone.

It’s hard to explain the weight of that kind of loss. It’s not just losing a doctor—it’s losing someone who has walked alongside you through so many seasons of life. Someone you trusted without question.

And in the middle of processing that, reality didn’t pause.

I had been waiting on MRI results from the previous week, and now I’m left wondering how—or when—I’ll even receive them. It’s a strange feeling… needing answers, but suddenly not knowing where they’ll come from.

Then there’s my son’s situation.

After all the speculation and stress, we finally got to the root of the plumbing issue. It turns out the culprit was a mixing valve in the guest bathroom shower. It had been leaking hot water for quite some time, and the damage… well, let’s just say it didn’t hold back.

Walls will have to be removed.
Flooring in the living room—gone.
Parts of the kitchen tile are also coming out.

It’s one of those situations where the problem hides quietly until it decides to introduce itself in a big way.

The repair itself was handled today, and the water mitigation crew has already started their work—cutting into walls, setting up fans and dehumidifiers, and beginning the long process of drying everything out.

Now comes the part nobody enjoys—dealing with the insurance company.

So far, they’ve been less than eager to step up. If it were up to them, I’m pretty sure they’d prefer to pretend the whole thing never happened. Thankfully, the mitigation team has experience dealing with this kind of pushback and has assured us they’ll fight to make sure the necessary repairs are covered.

We’ll see how that plays out.

But if there’s any silver lining in all of this, it’s this:

At least we didn’t have to tear up the living room slab chasing a mystery leak.
He’ll end up with a new wood floor.
And he has people in place who know how to handle the construction—and the insurance headaches that come with it.

Sometimes, that’s about as good as it gets.

This weekend was a reminder of how quickly things can change. One moment you’re celebrating with family, and the next you’re dealing with loss, uncertainty, and unexpected challenges.

But through it all, one thing remains the same—faith, family, and the strength to take the next step forward… even when you’d rather just stay in the recliner a little longer.

And for now, that’s exactly where I’ll be.

Coffee in hand. Heating pad on.
Taking it one moment at a time.

From Handy Man to Recliner Champion

05 Sunday Apr 2026

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The beginning of my Easter weekend started out simple enough—help my son check on a leak in his slab.

Now, when someone says “just come take a look,” you picture a quick in-and-out job. Maybe a loose-fitting, maybe something obvious. Ten minutes, tops. You feel confident. Capable. Like a man who knows where his flashlight is.

What you don’t expect… is a full-blown plumbing adventure.

Since I was only supposed to be looking for a leak, I made the brilliant decision to leave all my tools at home. Normally, they live in my truck, but since I recently had some body work done, everything got unloaded—and apparently, my motivation to reload it went with it.

That decision came back to haunt me almost immediately.

Before heading to my son’s house, I had already been given my “honey-do” list for the day. My wife wanted a new overhead kitchen light installed and the handrails painted before our Easter guests arrived. So, naturally, I thought, “Let me just swing by, find this leak real quick, and get back home.”

Famous last words.

I picked up the light and paint, called my son, and headed over. When I got there, I grabbed the one and only tool I thought I’d need… my flashlight.

That flashlight and I were about to be very disappointed.

When I walked in, I found my son wrestling with a toilet. Not just any toilet—this was one of those “engineered by someone who hates plumbers” models. You know the kind. The connections are hidden, your hands don’t fit, and nothing is where it should be.

He was trying to replace the flush valve, and what should have been a simple job turned into a puzzle designed by a madman. You couldn’t even get your hand behind the tank to reach the nut. At one point, I ended up breaking the old valve just to get it out… which is always a confidence booster.

Eventually, he told me he had it under control, so I went back to my original mission: finding the world’s most elusive water leak.

About 15 minutes in, I heard some… colorful language coming from the bathroom.

That’s never a good sign.

Turns out, he was now fighting the same battle we just had—getting the new valve tight enough without being able to reach the nut. And since all my tools were sitting comfortably in my garage at home, we were working with whatever he had lying around… which wasn’t much.

After some struggling, twisting, and me contorting my body into shapes it was never designed to make, we admitted defeat and made a trip to the hardware store for some “special” wrenches.

Spoiler alert: they helped… but not much.

Eventually, through persistence, determination, and probably a little bit of stubbornness, we got the valve installed without leaks. Victory was ours… and so was the back pain.

Once I finally made it back home, it was time to tackle my original assignment. With my wife’s help, I replaced the kitchen light, then moved on to painting the handrails… along with a good portion of my shirt. Apparently, I believe in fully committing to a project—whether I mean to or not.

After finishing up, I rewarded myself the only way I know how: parked in my recliner, heating pad in place, enjoying the first of several cups of coffee like I had just completed a home improvement marathon—which, in my mind, I had.

Later that night, I took my meds as usual and noticed something looked a little off. Turns out, in the chaos of cleaning and rearranging, my medications got mixed up—and instead of taking my sodium bicarbonate, I doubled up on my muscle relaxers.

Now, if you’ve never done that before, let me tell you… It turns your entire next day into a slow-motion documentary.

I spent most of Easter in a fog.

Thankfully, it was a good kind of day. We had family over—my son and his girlfriend, my daughter and future son-in-law, and even her sister. There was food, laughter, and the added bonus of some first-time introductions.

It was one of those moments where everything just feels right.

Even if you’re slightly sedated.

After everyone left, I curled up in my recliner and took a much-needed nap.

Because sometimes the best way to end a long weekend of fixing everything for everyone else…
is to finally sit still long enough to not break anything else.

Good Friday… but the Pipes Didn’t Get the Memo

03 Friday Apr 2026

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Good Friday is a solemn day. A day set aside to remember the sacrifice of Jesus Christ—His crucifixion, His death, and ultimately the hope, redemption, and victory that came from it. It’s called “Good” not because of what happened, but because of what it means for all of us.

For many people, though, it also means something a little more… practical.
A day off work. A three-day weekend. Time with family. Maybe planting flowers, knocking out some yard work, or finally getting around to those projects that have been giving you the side-eye for weeks.

For me? It was a “catch up on everything I’ve been putting off” kind of day.

After breakfast, I headed out to the garage and got to work. I moved equipment outside, cut material for some crafts I’ve got going, and spent a good chunk of the day sanding everything down so it’ll be ready for paint tomorrow. I’ve got a craft show next Saturday, and let’s just say… I’m not exactly ahead of schedule.

Somewhere around 4 PM, my back decided it had officially had enough of my ambition.

But of course, I still had to haul everything back into the garage. Because nothing says “you’re done for the day” like one last round of lifting stuff you probably shouldn’t be lifting.

All I could think about at that point was one thing:
A hot cup of coffee, my heating pad, and a recliner.

I finally got everything put up, made a thermos of coffee, and just as I was about to sit down and enjoy that first sip…

My phone rang.

It was my son.

Now, I made the comment to my wife—only halfway joking—that the only time he calls me is when something’s wrong, and he needs help. Not a “Hey Dad, how’s your day?” or “Just checking in.”

Nope. Straight to business.

And sure enough… I was right.

He had a problem. A pretty big one.

Water was coming up through the floor between his kitchen and living room. Not exactly the kind of indoor water feature you want. He had already checked everything—ice maker, sink, water heater, dishwasher, bathrooms—and everything was dry.

So I had him check the water meter.

Still moving.

That’s never a good sign.

His house is built on a slab, which means all the plumbing runs underneath it. And to make things even more interesting, whoever built the house decided that shut-off valves inside the home were apparently optional. So if you want to turn off the water, you’ve got to go all the way out to the road.

Convenient, right?

At this point, it’s looking like a slab leak… which is about as fun as it sounds. He’s got the water shut off, fans running, and a call in to the insurance company. But until they figure things out, he can’t even stay in the house—no water, no way to function normally.

Oh, and he’s got two cats to deal with on top of it.

Because why not add a little extra complication to the mix?

Now here’s where it gets interesting.

We were all supposed to go to his house for Easter lunch.

Yeah… that’s not happening anymore.

So now, everybody’s coming to our house instead.

Which means… cleaning.

And let me tell you, when it’s just my wife living here and me, we don’t exactly keep the place in “company-ready” condition. I’ve got stuff—important stuff, mind you—everywhere.

After supper, I did what I could to clean up, but between my back and a full day of working in the garage, “deep clean” quickly turned into “good enough if you don’t look too close.” There’s always tomorrow, right?

Honestly, if I had known all this was coming, I might’ve paced myself a little better earlier in the day.

Tomorrow, after Bible study, I’m heading over to his place to see if I can spot anything he might’ve missed. I’m holding out hope it’s something simple—maybe a loose line on the dishwasher or refrigerator.

But if it’s not… then it’s in the hands of insurance, plumbers, and flooring folks. And we all know that’s not a quick process.

So no, this wasn’t exactly the Good Friday we had planned.

But I guess sometimes that’s the point.

Even on a day meant for reflection, life still happens. Problems pop up. Plans change. Coffee gets interrupted.

But through it all, we adjust, we help where we can, and we keep moving forward.

And maybe—just maybe—I’ll get to drink that cup of coffee while it’s still hot tomorrow.

Gone Fishin’… Mentally. Physically at the Doctor’s Office

01 Wednesday Apr 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Retirement, Uncategorized, Weather

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Have you ever hit one of those stretches where you really want to do something—but life just keeps stacking the deck against you?

That’s me right now… and fishing.

The weather—well, the temperature at least—has been absolutely perfect. The kind of weather that makes you start mentally packing your gear before you even finish your morning coffee. I’ve been itching to get the kayak in the water.

But of course… It’s never that simple.

First, there’s the wind.

For the last ten days, the wind has been doing everything except cooperating. Now, sure, you can go kayak fishing in the wind… if you enjoy turning your peaceful fishing trip into a CrossFit session. Unless you’re on the water at daybreak, you’ve got a very small window before the breeze turns into a personal trainer yelling, “Paddle harder!”

Nothing quite like trying to hold your spot while questioning your life choices.

But honestly, the wind isn’t even the biggest problem.

Even if the water was as smooth as glass, my schedule has been anything but.

I’ve had something going on nearly every day—mostly doctor appointments. And just when I think I’ve finally got a free day lined up, my phone rings with, “Hey, just a reminder…” At this point, I’m convinced my calendar is just a suggestion, not a plan.

Case in point—I went to the doctor the other day about my back. For years, I thought it was just normal wear and tear… turns out my back has apparently been keeping secrets. Not the fun kind either.

So I finally spot a window. Tomorrow morning? Perfect fishing opportunity. The wind isn’t supposed to pick up until around noon. I’m already picturing that first cast.

Then the phone rings.

It’s the doctor’s office.

“Your MRI is scheduled for tomorrow.”

Of course it is.

So instead of being out on the water trying to catch fish, I’ll be lying perfectly still inside a giant tube while it takes pictures of all the bad decisions I’ve made with my back over the years. Honestly, if that machine could talk, it’d probably just shake its head and say, “Yeah… you probably shouldn’t be kayak fishing either.”

At this point, I’m not even sure what’s more out of alignment—my schedule or my spine.

Looking ahead to next week, it’s the classic tease. The temperature is supposed to drop again early in the week, then warm back up later. But it’s too far out to know what the wind’s going to do… and at this point, I’m convinced it’s working with my doctor.

One of these days, everything is going to line up—the weather, the wind, my schedule… and hopefully my back.

And when it does, those fish better be ready.

Because I’ve got ten days’ worth of missed fishing—and a medically questionable spine—ready to hit the water.

From Toughing It Out to Tapping Out by 10:30 AM

28 Saturday Mar 2026

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I’ve always considered myself pretty good at dealing with pain. Not superhero-level or anything, but enough to where I can usually just shrug it off and keep going.

My wife, on the other hand… well, let’s just say pain and her are not exactly best friends.

Now, before I get myself in trouble, I should point out that she did go through childbirth twice—once with twins—so when the moment calls for it, she can absolutely tough it out. She just prefers not to make a hobby out of it like I apparently do.

As for me, I’ve been dealing with this back pain for as long as I can remember. Never really complained much about it. I just chalked it up to muscle fatigue, getting older, or doing something dumb and pretending I didn’t.

Turns out… muscle fatigue was not the issue.

According to the latest X-rays, this has been something a little more “interesting” all along. And lately, just to keep things exciting, the pain decided to crank itself up over the past month.

Naturally, my pain tolerance—once my greatest ally—has started waving the white flag. So today, I finally broke down and reached for the pain meds.

At the doctor’s office the other day, they gave me a steroid shot, and I have to admit—it worked. Yesterday morning, I got out of bed without feeling like someone was stabbing me in the back. It was a beautiful, almost spiritual experience.

This morning? Not so much.

That shot wore off like a good dream, and reality came back with a vengeance.

On top of that, I was prescribed Methocarbamol—a muscle relaxer. The doctor told me, “Take it at bedtime… and during the day if you need it. Just be aware it might make you drowsy.”

Might.

Last night, I took one and thought, “This isn’t so bad.” I stayed awake for a while and figured I was in the clear.

This morning, after wrestling my way out of bed, I decided to take another before heading to Bible study.

Thirty minutes later… I was unconscious in the recliner.

Not “a little sleepy.” Not “slightly drowsy.” I mean full-on, lights out, someone-check-my-pulse kind of asleep.

My wife had to come wake me up so I could even attempt to get ready. I made it to Bible study, but staying awake was more of a suggestion than a reality.

By the time I got back home, I sat down in the recliner—and that’s about all I remember.

My day officially ended at 10:30 in the morning.

All the plans I had for the day? Gone. Completely wiped out. The only thing I accomplished was catching up on all the sleep I’ve been missing from staying up late and getting up early preparing for these craft shows.

So I guess… not a total loss?

Tomorrow is church, and after that, I’ve got a big date planned with my recliner and heating pad. We’ve grown very close lately.

With a little rest (and maybe slightly less “effective” medication), I’m hoping by Monday I can get back to working on the projects that didn’t stand a chance today.

Until then, I’ll be right here—taking it easy and trying not to accidentally time-travel to the next day every time I take my medicine.

Another Dr. Visit, An Unscheduled Upgrade

26 Thursday Mar 2026

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If you have been following my blog for any length of time, you should know that I have a love/hate relationship with doctors. I need them so I can live a healthier life… but I hate going because every single visit turns into a surprise episode of “What’s Wrong With Me Now?”

Today did not disappoint.

For as long as I can remember—basically my entire adult life—I’ve had this dull pain in my lower back (the lumbar region… look at me sounding all professional). Years ago, they told me it was just muscle fatigue. Nothing major. Just your standard, everyday “getting old is fun” kind of pain. It would hurt to get out of bed, stand for too long, or even get up after sitting for a bit.

You know… normal stuff.

Well, about three weeks ago, my “normal” pain decided it needed a promotion. What used to be a dull ache turned into something that made getting out of bed feel like I was trying to escape a bear trap. I gave it a few days, thinking it would go away like it always does.

It did not.

Naturally, I did what everyone does—I went straight to worst-case scenario. “Welp… kidneys are shutting down. This is how it ends.” So I went to a nephrologist. He basically said, “Sir… your kidneys are stable at the moment. The only pain you’ll feel is if you have been having kidney stones. I’ve had kidney stones, and this is nowhere near that pain.

Good to know.

So today I went to my GP for X-rays. While I’m sitting there, I overhear the nurse and the X-ray tech talking about my films. They had that tone—you know the one. The “Oh… that’s interesting” tone. And I just started laughing, because I knew exactly what that meant.

Congratulations… they found something.

Actually, they found a few somethings.

First off, scoliosis has apparently been sneaking around in my spine like it pays rent there. Then I’ve got two vertebrae that decided they liked each other so much they just fused together. No permission, no warning—just “we’re gonna be roommates forever now.”

And then there’s another vertebra that apparently quit its job and slid forward. I guess it got tired of being in line and said, “I’m gonna go see what’s going on up here… maybe bother a nerve or two while I’m at it.”

The vertebra that has decided to leave the party and move forward.

Overachiever.

And just when I thought we were done, they hit me with, “Let’s schedule an MRI.” Because clearly, we haven’t discovered everything yet. There could still be bonus features hiding in there.

So for now, it looks like a heating pad in the recliner and the heated seat in my truck are my new best friends. Honestly, at this point, I’m one step away from just installing a built-in warming system and calling it a day.

So yeah… just another routine trip to the doctor where I walked in thinking “probably nothing” and walked out with a list of upgrades I never asked for.

At this rate, if they scan me long enough, they’re going to find a spare bolt, a missing instruction manual, and maybe a “some assembly required” sticker.

Stay tuned… I’m pretty sure the next visit unlocks the deluxe edition 😅