On My Mind

Me, hard at work in a spare room, circa 1980. © Lloyd Lemons

(This was a story that came out of a contest from Kofi.com. The instructions were to write an encouraging letter to yourself, that will propel you into the future with confidence. Good therapy yes, but, no, I didn't win.)

Words of Encouragement to Me

Hey you! What are you doing? Staring at the blank screen? That will accomplish nothing. You’ve got to put some words down. It doesn’t matter if they make much sense at this moment, just connect your brain with your hands and write down word after word and sentence after sentence. You’ll get to where you need to be, trust me.

When you started this gig 40+ years ago, you had grand dreams! You wanted to write things to make people think. To move them emotionally. You didn’t let your lack of a literary education hold you back. You knew things, and you wanted to share those things with the world. You were bold, remember, or was it just youthful naivety?

You had some early success, remember? And it was exhilarating! More than a dozen stories were published right off, and it felt great, but it didn’t last. There were queries and pitches galore, but nothing seemed to connect. It was beyond discouraging. As a young man, it was soul-crushing.
But you adapted, and that’s how you survived.

You thought, “I love business, so I’ll approach businesses with the idea that I could write their newsletters and marketing messages.”

Think about what you did! You studied direct marketing principles relentlessly, and it paid off. Requests for your writing abilities started with people you knew and grew into a nice little business. Soon, you were writing all sorts of material for business accounts around the US, and beyond. You were back in the saddle, right?

Well, sort of. It wasn’t necessarily the kind of writing you had dreams of doing, but it kept you creating with words and ideas while it helped pay the bills.

Forty-plus years passed. (Man, how time can get away from a family man!) There were many ups and downs throughout the years, and you kept pushing forward.

Then the pandemic happened.

All your clients slowed their operations to a crawl. Assignments dried up in a matter of weeks. And, at 67 years of age, new prospects didn’t want to hear how an old guy had the experience to produce good results.

But you weren’t prepared to retire, financially, intellectually, or emotionally. Medical concerns became the next speed bump to negotiate. And they’ve been tenacious.

But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’ve had a tough time these past five or six years, indeed, since the very beginning. And now? Well, a light bulb has gone off. “People still read stories to improve their lives,” you thought. “I have much more experience as a human than I did many years ago, and I’ve always been flexible and highly adaptive. I’ll return to my original dream of writing stories for curious people. I can still make this work!”

Yes, you started down this path more than two years ago, and it hasn’t blossomed like your earlier endeavor. What will you do now?

 
Here’s a hint.

 
Now, you retool, sit down at the blank screen, and start putting words and ideas down for others to consume, and do it daily. Yes, it’s starting over, and no, it won’t be easy, but you can do it.

I have faith in you.

 
Sincerely, Me

Are You a Dandy?

Two dandies in the San Marco Square. © Lloyd Lemons

When I was a child, my grandparents enjoyed taking my brother and me to church whenever we visited. She would assist us in getting ready. Black shiny shoes, dress pants, a white shirt and tie, and of course a sports coat. At the final inspection before we walked out the door, she would be so pleased and say: "Oh, you boys look just dandy!"

I never knew what she meant by that. Dandy! I figured it was a compliment, but it was not a word I'd heard before.

The Met Gala 2025 taught me something this past week. I kept hearing about black dandyism, so I finally looked up the word's history, which goes back to the 1800s. I'll leave you the link to its meaning, so you can read further if you want. At least now I know what Grandma was saying to us.

You're never too old to learn new things if you have the curiosity gene.

* * *

None of my writing is produced by AI.
I occasionally use AI to create a photo, but it’s always noted.

Take Charge of Your Medical Care

A spinal fusion. Photo © Lloyd Lemons

Don't wait for someone else to make you better.

I’ve been “doctoring” again! Don’t worry, I won’t belabor the point with a description of my ailments, but I will give one fair warning: Don’t trust completely in any healthcare institution or its workers to get the job done correctly and efficiently every time.

Most are dedicated true professionals, and others … maybe not so much. Some are inexperienced, some would rather spend their time elsewhere, and some may simply not be up to the task. Then, of course, there are technology problems. “Our computers are down today!” goes the usual refrain.

I recently had a severe pain in my back that my doctor thought required a CT Scan to ascertain the source. I paid the $200 copay, got the scan, waited four days, and heard nothing. No phone call, no posting on my healthcare portal.

Follow up and follow through

So, I attempted to chase down the answer. This step is often a patient necessity in modern healthcare. It’s just one of the steps in taking charge of your health.

I couldn’t wait any longer, I reached out by phone, started calling the pros, and asking questions. It took a few calls when, eventually, I found someone with the answer: my CT Scan “turned up nothing.”

I still haven’t been able to see the scan on my portal or discuss the pain or CT results with the doctor.

My doctor said the next step is to check in with my neurosurgeon and get an MRI. It’s another scan, but much more comprehensive. I paid another $200 copay, got the MRI, waited a week, and heard nothing from the specialist’s office. No phone call, no text messages, no smoke signals, no posting on my healthcare portal.

So, again, I was forced to chase down the results.

After leaving three messages on the specialist’s phone, I finally got a call back from the surgeon’s assistant. She saw in the MRI progressive signs of aging, but nothing that would require further surgery at this time.

Expensive and often disappointing

So, what is the new source of my chronic pain? I don’t know. Apparently, no one knows. I’m out $400, several hours of my time, and more than two weeks of wondering, and still no closer to discovering the source of my pain.

I received an apology for the process taking so long (I’ve still not heard from the doctor), and a suggestion from the assistant to see “one of the pain management clinics around town.” I was also promised a view of the scan on my portal in a few days. It’s been two weeks, and it’s still not posted.

I learned a long time ago that healthcare is a team effort. Sometimes, when part of the “team” is lacking, you must take it upon yourself to ask questions, make phone calls, do your own reading and research, and sometimes do some legwork.

Why are things like this? And is it like this for everyone in the United States healthcare system? I can’t answer that question. But I know that healthcare relationships have noticeably changed for me in recent years. I’m 72 years old and I believe I have fallen into the category where limits are set by a little-known feature of our system called: Age-Based Healthcare Rationing.

It is important to understand your vital signs, including blood pressure, heart rate, respiration rate, and temperature, and what they mean for your health. But there’s more to do.

Read the professional literature about your health concerns. Good, solid literature is available on the Internet. Some of the proven sources I use are Johns Hopkins University, Mayo Clinic, the National Institutes of Health, the Cleveland Clinic, and others. You’ll read about clinical trials, cutting-edge research, and the experiences of other patients who have gone through health concerns similar to yours. It will give you a big picture overview, then you can discuss these ideas and remedies with your doctor.

For the best healthcare outcomes, take charge of your health by choosing a healthy lifestyle. And by all means, don’t sit on the sidelines waiting for someone else to make you better. Get involved in the process. Know your family history. Be prepared for medical appointments. Talk to your healthcare team. Ask questions and tell them when you don’t understand and need extra clarification.

I haven’t gotten to the bottom of my dilemma yet, but I promise you, I will.

.  .  .

For further reading:

I don’t think my doctor is listening to me.

None of my writing is produced by AI.
I occasionally use AI to create a photo, but it’s always noted.

We Expect Too Much From New Year’s Resolutions

New Year's Eve in Mt. Dora, FL © Lloyd Lemons

I think it’s safe to say, we all want to make 2026 better.

I want to recover my mindset and energy from where they were at the end of 2019, pick myself up, dust myself off, and move forward with renewed hope. I wrote that sentence at the end of 2023, and (surprise!) my “want” didn’t happen. I’m repeating it this year but not as a resolution—as something more powerful—a fresh way to face the world.

Our way of life is excessively angst-inducing. It completely went off the rails with COVID-19 and continues today with enormous political uncertainty, domestic and international terrorism, and religious wars around the globe.

Can we ever stop fretting over this insanity? How can we clear our heads, restore our hope, and enjoy renewed peace of mind?

I'm no longer one to create a list of New Year's resolutions. I don’t think making a list of promises to myself that begin on January 1st is the answer. A resolution may help my sleep cycle or improve my diet, but it won’t change my attitude toward the world and relieve stress. Personal growth and change don’t happen with New Year’s resolutions, they happen with introspection, and setting ongoing intentions.

For those of us who resist making New Year’s resolutions, you must admit, that something about January 1 still excites us about the potential of the next 12 months. Maybe we’re jazzed by the swell of glee from the revelers who enjoy the circus-like atmosphere surrounding New Year’s Eve.

The beginning of the new year serves to wake us from our asleep-at-the-wheel mentality. It reminds us that life is finite and to live intentionally we need to enjoy peace of mind. So just maybe it’s time to take stock of what we’ve accomplished and look forward to how we can continue to grow and become better humans. It feels like a good time to hit the reset button on our lives and work towards less worry and more self-discovery.

Make a bubble

One of the best ways to start a more contented life is to remove yourself from the worldly bubble of hatred, heartache, lies, and angst. Stop traveling down that well-worn road of despair. Take the road less traveled, gather your family and friends, and create your own bubble of comfort to live in. Add things to your bubble that make you happy and feel right.

Change your point of view. Do what makes you and your family safe and happy. Keep your distance from the noise and danger around you. Put silent space between you and those you know are political mongers. Socialize with people whose kindness, intelligence, and friendship you appreciate. Rid yourself of those who foster divisiveness and anxiety. Read, listen, or watch programming that helps you grow and makes you think.

These suggestions may not be the advice you’d hear from New Year’s revelers but think of it as a sensible approach to maintaining your sanity, relieving stress, frustration, and that tenacious smoldering angst.

Marcel Proust once wrote something that may help you restore your mindset and energy.

This Virus Has a Tenacious Grip

An advertisement from the September 22, 1952 edition of Life Magazine

Trust science, not conspiracy theories

I've come to the end of my second bout of COVID-19. It first appeared on 08.01.2024, and I was pretty sick for 5 days. I started Paxlovid on day 4. My symptoms gradually eased during the following 7 days -- yes, I had the virus for 12 days. I think the Paxlovid helped because it kept me from getting seriously sick or hospitalized. But it had side effects, including fatigue, dizziness, and brain fog. So, am I better now? Better, yes, but 100%, no!

Each day is a surprise. Today, I feel pretty good. Yesterday, I was severely lethargic and cranky. The day before that, I was tired, anxious, depressed, and had slightly blurry vision. And so it goes—each day is a surprise. This irregularity of symptoms is often called long COVID or post-COVID-19 syndrome. It manifests the symptoms I'm experiencing and others, including headaches, shortness of breath, heart palpitations, and more.

It's unfortunate, but some people still don't believe COVID-19 exists. They call it the flu, or they quickly change the subject of the conversation because they don't have an adequate explanation for their lack of faith in science. I don't know where this virus will go from here, but I hope ya'll take heed; it can get ugly quickly. 

For further information ... 

COVID Surges Again

What About Long COVID?

Raw Squid Isn't the Strangest Food I've Eaten

Mahi Mahi caught off the coast of Oahu, HI. 

Humans get adventurous with their meals

One of my favorite lunchtime meals is a grilled cheese sandwich made with Stone-ground wheat bread with ample sharp yellow cheese melted between the slices and paired with a hot bowl of tomato bisque soup. Mmm, tasty!

My parents were working-class people, and I grew up on mostly simple foods. Oatmeal for breakfast. A lunchmeat sandwich for lunch, and maybe a big pot of homemade spaghetti for a special Sunday meal. Sometimes on a Friday night, we might have a fish fry and enjoy a large platter of Perch, a freshwater fish caught in the lakes around our Michigan home.

My folks also enjoyed having a platter of liver and onions for dinner (it was the cheapest of meats) which I hated but did my best to choke it down. My Mom liked to boil chicken hearts and gizzards, and as a ten-year-old, I shared a few plates with her. It took me another ten years to wise up and cut the organ meats from my diet.

Read the full story here. 

A Boy’s First Car

The days when cars were king. Thanks, Phillip Solano @ Pexels

Speed, adventure, friends ... what's not to love!

Sixty years ago, my hometown, Detroit, was still the world’s envy. It was the fourth most populated city in the U.S. It was known for its contribution to The Underground Railroad, a network of secret routes and safe houses used by enslaved people to escape to freedom.

It was the home of Motown, the record company that played a major role in developing soul and R&B music, with dozens of artists becoming world-renowned musicians and performers. 

Detroit was famous for its stunning landmarks, architecture, professional sports teams, and unique cultural heritage.

However, the city was most famous worldwide for being a hub for innovation and production in the automobile industry. It earned the title, The Motor City. It was the automobile capital of the world.

Read the full story here.