Listen up! Don't buy what a sawbones tells you as being gospel. Here's how I know:

In April of 1969, a heavyweight military specialist who specialized in such cases, told me I would never walk again, that I would be in a wheel chair for the rest of my life. At the end of September of that year, I walked off an airplane under my own steam and back onto U. S. soil, keeping a promise I had made to myself in 1967. By early 1971, I no longer needed that wheel chair at all.

On April 3rd, 1992, a medical specialist told me I had inoperative stomach cancer and had less than six months left. It turned out they made a misdiagnosis in the lab and it was another form of cancer altogether. Then, that same doctor almost killed me three times while I was recovering from surgery trying to "cure" me. I had to fire him so that I could get well enough to get out of the hospital. In 1997, I passed the five year remission mark. The disease flared back up in 1999, but it went away as quickly as it came back, confounding all the guys with med school diplomas on their walls... again.

At the end of February, 2001, I was diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure and told that the damage to my heart was so extensive that I was probably facing no more than a year left to live. I made arrangements to pay his bill in 2003 and kept them.

In April of 2002, the sawbones learned that I had suffered two major heart attacks that would have killed anyone else (their words), but here I am.

Just over a week ago, a doctor told me that it appears I have lung cancer. I will go for a biopsy and other treatments next week. I plan to be around for a long time to prove them wrong too... again.

All in all, had I listened to those doctors, I would have thrown in the towel long ago. I chose to think positively and remind them that I am one tough old Dago who takes a Hell of a lot of killing off.

Naturally, I can't help but wonder if the Big Guy has it in for me, but then I remember that I am tough and ornery and determined. I am especially determined to prove those fools wrong again. You can too.

You see, I learned about a great set of "wonder drugs" long ago. The first one is called determination. It's one you need in your system when the fight gets tough.

The second one is humor. Medical science has never found a cure for the common smile or belly laugh. Hand one out and take a few in... prn (that's medical talk for "as needed") They truly are miracle workers. You might find that handing these out do as much good as getting them. I sure did.

The last one is called caring. I have been blessed to have lots of people who care about me and every time one of them lets me know they do, it's more revitalizing than a hundred doses of speed. I could list them here, but those folks are so numerous and they all post here on a regular basis, call me, come by to see me, send me e-mail and just keep making my medical worries seem smaller and smaller all the time.

Some show their caring by prayer, a thing they believe in greatly. Even those who doubt the efficacy of prayer cannot, and will never, argue against the value of the caring it indicates.

We hope you don't have to face the partial loss of a limb, but you need to know that those here who really care about you and what happens to you don't worship your toes or adore your kneecaps. We care about the human being that is using those parts while they still work right. When they don't, we'll still have the best part left to care about... and that is Nola... the lady you are.

Don't make me come out there and tell you jokes and say dumb stuff until you pray for a hospital stay. The last time I did that, they had to call in an excorist.