There was an article on the PCA3. I have used it and it is a useful adjunct in the patient with an elevated PSA and he is hesitant to do a biopsy on the PSA alone. Being Black, having a family history of prostate cancer, symptoms help in this regard. The free PSA and the urine test PCA3 also help. But…if the government and insurance are balking at paying for the $65 dollar PSA test, do you think they will step up to pay for the $1000 or so urine test. Remember you heard this here first, ” I believe the powers that be feel it is more cost effective to treat prostate cancer that have been found late and usually succumb to the disease within 3 years (this is a much smaller number) than to find the cancer early.
Anyway back to “Atlas Shrugged.” You may remember that I was listening to it in my car with my bike on top and then ran into my garage destroying my bike just as Rearden’s bridge is being tested by a train.
So over Memorial day I refurbish my bike and get it all set up with new tires and put it back on top of my van in anticipation of riding Chicoppe Woods after a five year hiatus.
I have a Urologic Surgery Center and the nurses that work with me marvel (and make fun of me) about the cars I drive. The call my truck a POS. That’s their term not mine. Anyway between cases I invite them all out to look at my bike and how it has new tires that I put on and to show them the van rack and how it was bent five years ago listening to “Atlas Shrugged.” The string from the past three or so Christmas trees I have hauled on the van I showed them as well.
My plan was to skip Spin at the “Y” and go to Chicopee to “cross train” on a real mountain bike trail like the old days.
The morning of the day I had planned to go to Chicopee I had a short case at the hospital to do. I have Pandora going on my iphone and Modest Mouse playing “The Good Times are Killing Me,” drinking the Starbucks coffee I made a home and turn into the hospital parking lot. I was enjoying the morning and how the sun comes up over the parking deck (I have about 50 beautiful shots of the sun in the early am there.)
Out of nowhere a tremendous crashing sound and shuddering of the van disrupts my little set up. “What in the hell?” I look out of my driver window and see my bike hanging off and over the side of the van. Still shaking and swinging violently is the red parking deck height sign that says, “7 ft clearance.”
It’s funny. What is my first reaction? Did anyone see this? Is anyone behind me. To hell with the bike or my car, I look around to see if anyone noticed or saw. There was no one. I continue on, the clearance then knocked the bike off its front attachment to the bike rack and layed it flat, and pull into an isolated parking space to apprise the situation.
This time all the bolts that attach the van luggage rack to the frame were completely pulled out. I guess now when it rains water will get in there and soak the ceiling of my van. The bike was okay. It just gave way from the holder without damaging anything. The rack will have to be replaced or rescrewed or something, unless it is just completely stripped.
I tell my wife about it…”John, this is just another sign that you need to get a new car.” That’s all I got.
So now the bike is in the back of the van. I took out the back seat of the van years ago. To fix or not fix the rack….don’t know-I am thinking on that.
I have yet to get to Chicopee. I did row my Alden Skull at the lake and am waiting for a quarter sized blister that occurred right on the palm crease and hence won’t heal and is reopened with each new handshake which is something I do greeting patients 30 times a day.
It’s all small stuff.
Don’t sweat the small stuff. Everything is small stuff.