Click here for June 2010 update.

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Well, here it is, time for my expensive, every-ninety-day testosterone-blocker shot, and I want you to know that I drove nearly 2,000 miles to keep the December 18, 2009 appointment. Once again, Becky Jo has her camera ready for the photo opportunity. Many people have commented about how entertaining the previous photos were, but mention was made that my posterior was entirely too pale, so I brought along some friends for a more colorful session this time. These shots ought to put a stop to the complaining.

It's now March 2010 and I'm back for another shot in the office of
Dr. Greg Horwitz in Kansas City, Missouri.

And time for my blood draw, for my PSA test,
at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Leavenworth, Kansas.

Update

Stuck In Lodi Again?
This is a staged photo. It's not a 100% honest representation of the reception of
my fifth Lupron shot. That happened some twenty minutes earlier at the hands of
Trish, who has sixteen-years of service to her credit, but she's a wee bit camera
shy, or maybe it's simply that she doesn't fancy having her portrait appearing on
the same canvas with some fool's darriere.
We needed to mark the solemn historic occasion with a photo,
so Kristine volunteered to stand-in for Trish.

Here I am with my West Coast Urologist, Dr. Nancy Little.
Logistics kept me away from my appointment with
Dr. Greg Horwitz in Kansas City, and Dr. Nancy was
recruited by my daughter Melinda.

Here I am posing next to a photo of what I presume is
a previous patient of Dr. Little.
Gee, I hope she doesn't put my picture on display
like that…without proper credit.

I must admit this small contribution of humor is courtesy my late-friend, Walter R. Bryan. We went fishing years ago on the Klamath River up in Northern California, and it was such a nice hot day that Walt decided to do some swimming. He didn't have a swim suit, but that's no big deal among friends, and as he was skinny-dipping, he thought he saw some gold flecks in the sandy bottom, so he got his gold pan and commenced to play forty-niner there along the riverbank. 'What a photograph that would be,' I very quietly told myself, and worked my way around behind him. The shot was perfect. He was bent over working his pan, and from my angle, his family jewels appeared just above the paydirt. When he eventually saw the photo and learned that I intended to make very public use of it on tee-shirts, he very angrily announced,
"I'll sue you if you don't give me proper credit!"
So I made tees for all of our friends, and his name was in big letters:
Walter R. Bryan, The Gold Panner!
Give credit where credit is due.

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