Valdus
Well-known member
Disclaimer: Colon Talk
Ye Gods I love my pipes. Since having to give up drinking (let us just say it was no longer fun and leave it at that) they have become my chill, my moment of tranquility among the New Orleans banana trees and courtyards.
I am a sort a tobacco foodie of sorts. Not that I eat it, but I do sample, mix and match and try out new and interesting labels. It was fun and I got to a point where I did not even think about taking a drink.
Then my iron levels went down dramatically.
Then they pulled out a golf ball out of my gut.
Then they said the golf ball was an alien species to the body, using words like "Invasive" and "displacia"- words I have never real heard, and no one wants to ever hear.
This at 53, never a history, never a peep from the guts below.
So while my CT scan was beautifully clean, apparently I have the torso of one of Tolkein’s elves, and my blood work was excellent, iron levels coming back hard- I guess I have dwarven blood too; I may be looking at something they call a resection (though one white coat says I got it all, one tech says yeah but, and another says just in case, and no doubt some other white coat sees it as a military operation) which to me is only sounds like doom-plumbing.
Venting? Yeah I’m venting. Especially after my PA best-friend of 30 years, the guy that got me into pipes in the first place, tells me that I need to severely cut down on my briar-bliss, as in less than once a month.
I just want to see if anyone out there has a similar experience and if, gods be bloody damned, I can still smoke without fear. Because if you are smoking a pipe with fear, why smoke it at all eh?
Ye Gods I love my pipes. Since having to give up drinking (let us just say it was no longer fun and leave it at that) they have become my chill, my moment of tranquility among the New Orleans banana trees and courtyards.
I am a sort a tobacco foodie of sorts. Not that I eat it, but I do sample, mix and match and try out new and interesting labels. It was fun and I got to a point where I did not even think about taking a drink.
Then my iron levels went down dramatically.
Then they pulled out a golf ball out of my gut.
Then they said the golf ball was an alien species to the body, using words like "Invasive" and "displacia"- words I have never real heard, and no one wants to ever hear.
This at 53, never a history, never a peep from the guts below.
So while my CT scan was beautifully clean, apparently I have the torso of one of Tolkein’s elves, and my blood work was excellent, iron levels coming back hard- I guess I have dwarven blood too; I may be looking at something they call a resection (though one white coat says I got it all, one tech says yeah but, and another says just in case, and no doubt some other white coat sees it as a military operation) which to me is only sounds like doom-plumbing.
Venting? Yeah I’m venting. Especially after my PA best-friend of 30 years, the guy that got me into pipes in the first place, tells me that I need to severely cut down on my briar-bliss, as in less than once a month.
I just want to see if anyone out there has a similar experience and if, gods be bloody damned, I can still smoke without fear. Because if you are smoking a pipe with fear, why smoke it at all eh?
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