Originally Posted by Gary E. Andrews
A woman at the Hillbilly Flea Market in Ashland, Kentucky, or maybe it was Floyd, or Flatwoods. It was on Route 23.
Any way, she asked me how old I was. I think I was 57.
She said, "The reason I ask is because my husband died of prostate cancer, one of the easiest cancers to treat, and he might still be alive if he had a Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test."
She said to get one if you're getting into your fifties.
I got out of my fifties as quick as I could.
I had some blood tests shortly after that, cost me $900.
"Your heart's good, liver's good, kidneys good. You might be gettin' diabetes though and have to take a pill!"
I was pretty sure that wasn't a risk. I ate very little sugary foods, candies, pastries, high fructose corn syrup.
"Oh. Well..." Doc said, "did you maybe drink a beer the day before you had the blood taken?"
Hell, that was 30 days ago. I don't remember.
I've got paperwork to turn in to see how much Medicare will cost. How much I'll have left to live on. Have to pay a penalty for not signing up when I retired.
Then I'll have to get Part C and D that everybody's complaining just 'inflated'.
I may have to keep on doin without until I break down on the side of the road and someone takes me to the junkyard.

Yeah Midicare , you'll pay 20% of bill .Why don't you write that . Haul me off to a wrecking yard and let me rust in the rain. Retire what a joke , I'm doing a job today for a plastic surgeon , what a cheap ass

Last edited by bennash; 01/03/26 08:22 AM.
We’re all built from the same dust and dreams,
Different roads, but the same means.