The Intervention

I'm five for five in getting up this week. I slept in again Friday morning, and it sure felt good. By "slept in," in mean I didn't get up early and go to the pool. I got up when I had to get ready to go to work. Working on Friday is cruel and unusual punishment, but I have to do it at least twice a year.

So I went to work and I was on time. I'm always on time. And actually, I had some things to do. I finished publishing all my courses in Canvas. I contacted our Cengage representative and she walked me through how to put my electronic textbooks into Canvas. I took a co-worker to lunch at Crystal. He lives in Indianola and knows almost nothing about Greenwood. We had a good meal then did some house touring of the movie The Help. We even rode out to the church on Money Road.

After lunch, I came out of the bathroom into a common area and one of the ladies sitting out there asked, "Are you OK?"

"What do you mean?" was my response.

"Your breathing was so heavy."

I get that a lot although I am totally unaware of it. Mary Hodge tells me she can hear me from inside the house as I approach home when I am running. I asked two other ladies who were there, "Did you hear it?"

They both said, "Yes."

Then the one I used to call BK but now call MK because she just smashed a marathon at altitude asked, "When was the last time you went to the doctor?"

That started what was essentially an intervention. They hammered me with questions and suggestions. I kept saying, "You;re right. You're right. But doing it . . . ."

"Why don't you go?"

"It costs a lot of money and nothing good seems to come from it," was my answer to that question. I didn't mention that you have to wait an hour and a half past your appointment time before the doctor sees you. Neither did I say that I just have a positive attitude about my health. I have always believed that I am going to be all right. But this was beginning to sink in. It had the force of the voice of God. God speaks in a lot of ways. I felt like I was being spoken to.

"You need to go see Nause," they kept firing at me. His name had been coming up a lot lately. He was even one of the Pool Fools. I know him, and I think he's a good guy.

Two of the ladies aren't normally there. They were sent to Greenwood to finish their punishment week because Horton Building in Moorhead flooded. So I was surprised at their concern. Then I brought up the fact that most doctors won't accept new patients. MK said, "I'll call right now and see if he will take you," and she did. He will take me.

"When is the last time you had your prostrate checked?"

"Let me think. Like never."

Then she said, "I love you and I don't want you to die. Besides, think how angry your wife will be if you die. And think about your children and grandchildren."

"Okay. I'll do it. Really, I'll do it."

One of them even said, "I have the papers that you have to fill out as a new patient for Nause. I'll give you a copy."

Are you kidding me!

So I have the papers, and I have the plan that I am going to see Nause and get checked out. The intervention worked. My wife has tried for years, but she has pretty much given up on trying to make me do things I don't want to do. This happened at the right time, from the right people, in the right way. 

Training? I got home after 4:00 and went to Plate City. It was hot yeah. I did some treadmill running, a little pushing and a little pulling. Then I took a shower and Mary and I headed out. We went to Mai Little China because I was still full from Crystal at lunch. They have a buffet. Usually a buffet means eat all you can. This time it meant, I don't have to eat too much. The food was good, but our waitress was not. Maybe you can guess that I was thirsty after working out in the 113 degree heat index. I never got a refill. She was sitting in the corner looking at her phone. She never got a tip.