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Without modern medicine, I would soon be one of those males who die from prostate cancer. In one year my PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen) went from a score of 4, which is watch-carefully, unrecorded it went past 8, which would be take-action, to 41 which would be take-aggressive-action, in one more month to 49, which would be to take-androgen-blocking-hormones-now and schedule for 40 radiation treatments immediately. I suddenly went from very healthy to seriously at risk of deadly cancer with the only unequivocal symptoms being the medical tests.

What to do? Well, I just got up after writing that paragraph and hand-watered the very large garden I’ve been blogging about occasionally. Lots of little green things are popping up and today’s weather is forecasted to be 80°F and sunny, so that should warm the soil enough for everything to get started. Although I spent most of my summers on my mother’s family’s farms until graduating from college, I wasn’t really into farming. I was there as part of the family and to help with the work. Now, it is different. I don’t need the work, I don’t need the vegetables, I don’t need the physical exercise. I guess what I do need is some mild routine contact with healthy living things that are youthful and full of life-force and the joie de vivre to grow. Many people have dogs, and puppies are really nice, but at the moment I have arugula and lots of other unidentified sprouts that conform to my garden map.

I am happy to be alive.

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