Category: Aging

Having A Future

So, time flies when you are having a good time, eh. Not that cooped up, but enough to stop the analysis of the past. It will never change and whatever story I have to tell will remain in my head. I don’t have to wonder if I will survive this, I may. But little difference will come of it. My CLL limits my life expectancy anyway. Much I didn’t do because of my limitations. On to filling the rest of the time with who knows what, except that fame and fortune have escaped me. Keep in mind, it’s a cromulent world.

Mano Mano Manischewitz

“At 11 percent ABV, it’s the kind of sticky sweet wine that gets glugged like juice at the dinner table, resulting in a collective morning-after headache for everyone involved. All the same, Manischewitz is ingrained in Jewish culture.” People still drink it.

At Publix, the well stocked bar didn’t seem to be attracting many customers.  Surprising, since FL is the home to many aged Jews who can still remember their first Passover. But then again, we are in the midst of a plague and no one wants a hangover to compete with symptoms of the Corona virus.

Duckman No Beard

So, it was time, time to get rid of the beard. I cannot remember how long I had it or how many shapes it has had, but enough. I hadn’t seen myself, except for my eyes in years, which isn’t a bad thing for a studio portrait photographer. And, in addition to having to clean after every meal and dealing with underlying skin problems, I thought it would be healthier in the Covid epidemic to not have a virus catcher near my eyes and nose.

Sharon waited patiently as I shaved. She said I looked more handsome than ever and then we did the shoot.

 

One Day At A Time

At home and doing OK. Immune system working with pills. The pills have a price, $13,000 @ month (insurance) and side effects. Being careful, for sure, but how careful can I be?

Bought a lotto ticket, Megabucks. Winning the jackpot won’t defeat Corona virus. Staying away from crowds, going to the doctor if I feel sick and washing my hands mean more to my life than One Million dollars.

Lorin Duckman, 72

I turned 72, which was a good thing and a not so good thing. As to the former, I am alive; as to the latter I have CLL, a blood disorder that isn’t lymphoma or leukemia, but what it is requires me to take pills everyday and be fearful of falling or catching a cold.

I have a marriage that thrives, even though I didn’t support us as planned or become the man we both wanted me to be. I cannot shake the past and don’t have much of a productive future planned. My photography comes second to my wife, so for those two things, I don’t want for attention, assignments or affection.

I read, shoot pictures, travel and volunteer. The images I make at the Soup Kitchen of Boynton Beach are printed and handed out. I have been given a wall that needs to be filled. People leave stuff at our door which I deliver and I beg for diapers (4s and 5s), along with donations of money, clothes and household goods.

Nothing can be done to ease my pain or fix the story. No one knows what happened to me, except a select few and I am not important enough to find out the truth. Not saying I was perfect, just not so imperfect to have been the subject of judicial and political torture. Few friends, none close, and few relatives, none close. Not so bad as long as I  live.

Ibrutinib/Imbruvica

I have been taking Imbruvica for one year. I have not been sick, though I cannot say I have been well, either. But I am still alive and have not caught any diseases or had a cold. How long will it keep working? Will I have a relapse or go into remission. Tomorrow, the Cancer Doctor. I  like seeing him. It’s the sitting in the waiting room that I cannot deal with.