Only scary things happen to me.
Happy Halloween! I hope you’re celebrating in full costume glory. Me? I’m no Halloween person. No costumes, no face paint—just me, in all my unadorned splendor.
I noticed my last post here was September 10, and let me tell you, things haven’t exactly been "great" since. In fact, the universe seemed to go full horror movie on me. It all started around September 17 when I noticed I was basically living in the bathroom. Off to urgent care I went, where they diagnosed me with a UTI and handed over some antibiotics. I thought, “Great, a few pills, and I’ll be fine.” Oh, how naïve I was.
By October 1, my body was in full rebellion. Feverish, miserable, and peeing every ten minutes, I trudged back to urgent care, expecting another quick fix. But instead, they hooked me up to an IV as if my pulse rate of 125 was the star of some medical drama. Turns out, I was in early sepsis. They pumped me full of more antibiotics and sent me off with a recommendation to see a urologist, making it sound as ominous as a cliffhanger.
I dutifully followed up with the urologist and got my next prescription: Bactrim. A few days on Bactrim, and guess what? Still not better. So, back to urgent care I went. This time, they told me I had prostatitis (an enlarged prostate), handed over yet another antibiotic, Flomax, and wished me luck. My body was now officially a pharmaceutical experiment.
Finally, I got to the urologist, who mentioned something about needing a procedure called TURP—a name that sounds like it was designed to scare me. After a CT scan revealed even more “scary stuff,” I decided to save the panicking for my next appointment.
So, no, "Only Great Things" hasn’t quite applied lately. But here I am, determined to write more, shake off this funk, and find the good—or at least the humor—in all of this. After all, my name’s Ron, and no matter what, only great things happen to me… eventually.