Blogging can be a tricky proposition. This is especially true when you are in a committed, loving relationship. When single, you can write, ponder, pontificate, opine, share, and express thoughts and opinions which reflect solely on the author.

Blogging while in a relationship is an entirely different matter. I can say that I have the good fortune to now be in one of those committed, loving relationships.  And I AM ECSTATIC to say so.

The trick, then, as I explained to Charley, is to include her (how could I not - she is a huge part of my life) while being respectful of privacy, taste, tact, etc. Not to mention that I don't want to bore my readers by going on and on about Charley.  I mean, she's interesting and all, but so is tofu.  Now, don't get me wrong - I'm not comparing the two; I'm just saying that sometimes Charley might be on my mind, and therefore I'll write about her, but sometime it might just be tofu.

I guess what I'm trying to say is don't expect this blog to turn into a running love letter or a daily fawning over my girlfriend. When I started writing these thoughts and observations in September of 2012, I didn't have a girlfriend.  Well, I have one now.  That's the difference.

While I'm on the topic, I talked to someone recently about the blog, and they inferred that the blog had been somewhat lacking for awhile and they theorized I was telling my girlfriend all the things that I would normally tell you all here.  Well, challenge accepted!

So, I just got a phone call from the blog police. They said that since I compared my girlfriend to tofu (but I really didn't!), that tofu has to get equal time in this post.  Hey, the law is the law...


I always hated tofu.  Whenever I'd get it in a salad or see it floating around in miso soup, it always looked so bland.  Yuck.  I didn't like the taste, the consistency, the sliminess - heck, even the name 'tofu' is gross. Then, my dear friends Tina and Bree (her daughter and my 'honorary' daughter)  taught me how to purchase, prepare, and cook tofu.  Let me tell you what I learned: 1. Buy firm (extra firm?) tofu. 2. Dice it into small cubes. 3. Stir fry in wok on high heat, adding appropriate spices, etc.

I don't hate tofu anymore :)   And I don't hate my girlfriend, either.  I suppose now I just compared Charley and tofu.  And that means it's really time to go to sleep.

Feeling good, everyone.  Feeling good...

So, let me paint a picture for you (SPOILER ALERT: For those of you who don't want to read a detailed description of me sitting on a donut in my underwear, you may want to skip the introductories and go to directly to paragraph two. Wait! Better make that paragraph three, I'm sure the trip will be circuitous, if not fun...  See, now, I'm trying to have fun, and already this is not going well.  My computer has the temerity to admonish me with 'Teachers' Red ink. Word (thank you very much) has underlined two words and the red lines are just bugging the heck out of me.  I know, Word.  I know. Listen, I made up 'introductories', so sue me. And everybody writes 'donuts' not doughnuts, I mean, sheesh.  Oh, crap, now three words underlined.

Sigh. Okay. Fresh start so my computer and I can get our feces in one container, as one of my employees once suggested I do...  Good suggestion, actually. Okay. Focus. Let's go...



So, this is my first cancer-free blog post (early pathology reports are excellent, but I have one last PSA test to pass on July 10, then I can be pronounced officially 'prostate cancer free.'  I'll gladly accept that new handle... I'm sitting in the living room of the most awesome place I've ever lived.  I'm listening to music, sitting on the aforementioned donut, wearing nothing but my underwear (plus my 'pad' - more on that later...) and my watch.  [Insert official segue music here:  Stella loves my watch. She always has. She pays less attention to it now, because there is a whole 'nother world out there for two year-olds. She was at a party at my house recently, and she wandered into the bedroom and rummaged through the items in there, and found the watch.  Always the watch.  Funny thing about the watch. It was purchased for me by my parents for my 50th birthday.  It bears the logo of my high school mascot, and it's my everyday watch.  Okay, all my other watches need batteries, so technically, this is my only watch.  The thing is, it was gifted to me with love by Stella's great-grandparents, and, in time, that love and all mine will accompany the watch to Stella...  Okay, while we are talking about Stella, I just have to say, MY PEANUT, I LUFF HER.  April, you are the best!!!!  Love and strength to you, my kick-ass daughter!]

So, let's get this party started.  I have so much to tell you. It is going to take me a considerable amount of time.  Hey, hey, stop complaining!  Reeses peanut butter cups were not built in a day!  Wait, that's not the saying, is it? Freakin munchies.  Oh, well.

This will be the first blog entry dealing with the surgical prep and process, as well as the recovery to date.  Make no mistake: I'm three weeks out post-surgery, I know I have a lot of healing to do yet, and I'm (mostly) following doctor's orders and taking it easy. I will talk about the unfortunate consequences of being 'mostly' compliant, instead of, oh, I don't know, compliant?

(I wish that my girlfriend, Charley, was co-writing this with me tonight, because during large parts of this process, I was asleep, under anesthesia, otherwise medicated, or just not attentive enough to truly appreciate the chaos that was my surgery and recovery.  For example, my 11th hour melt-down just moments before they wheeled me into surgery, and my insistence that "I was not going to have this operation right now'" and Charley saying, "Fine, let's go home."  Yeah, oh, yeah.  Good stuff for a writer, but not for a patient?... Thanks, Charley, for ALWAYS calling bullshit on me when it was called for.)

Well, folks, if I can't find the sweet spot to sit in on this donut soon, this entry may be over before it starts. Yes, I know, I already started, including spelling donut 'wrong' about 7 times now!  But seriously, this is but mere foreplay.  Oooh, did I just write that? I kind of like that...

I moved to the bed and I'm now in the supine position.  My Santa Monica High School 2011 yearbook is crushing my balls so that I can use it (my book, not my balls) for a place to rest the laptop.

Okay, this sucks too.  To the desk.  Let's see what happens.  Preparation H, too.  We can do this!

Wait.  Maybe the bed will work.  Let's give it a minute. Okay, no.  That was 4.6 seconds.  A minute ain't gonna happen - unless of course, I continue to typ

Moved to the desk, with the donut on the desk chair.  Not sold on it. Crap.

Well, now you know why I haven't posted since before surgery.

Before I go, let me just leave this caution behind for anyone having surgery: Make sure you eat properly and don't overdo it within the first few weeks of surgery. I did, and my body was like, "Dude, we gotta slow this guy down!" "Yeah, I know... What we got?"  "Cold?" "Nah." "Flu?" "Pfft!"  "I got it! Hemorrhoids. Hemorrhoids are terrible, and this poor bastard doesn't even know how to spell hemrroids."  "Frank, you're an evil genius.  Hemorrhoids.  Eeek."

Yup, so the biggest setback in my recovery is a nice bout of anal itching and soreness.  My nurse practitioner put me immediately on bed rest.  This sucked, since I was walking about two miles a day at that point, but...  My body, as you can tell from that scintillating dialog in the preceding paragraph. was trying to tell me something.

So, here I am.  Back in bed, physically feeling pretty damn good, mentally off the charts happy, and spiritually in a good place, too.  This process has reinforced my beliefs in karma and positive energy. Spending time with like-minded people has been a blessing, too, along with the thoughts prayers, and energy from my friends and family.  THANK YOU, ALL.  (Special shout-out to Paul, Kevin, DJ, Zach, and Liz.)  My son, Kenny, coming in from NY was awesome, and spending time with my peanut is always a gas. Then there's Charley. Just thank you.

I feel my old energy returning since my hormone depletion therapy shot has now worn off, and my body is once again producing testosterone.  The hormone treatment was definitely the worst part of the process to date - perhaps even worse than the anal thing (Sorry, I'm tired of misspelling h-e-m you know...)

So, in conclusion, I'm tired, uncomfortable, and heading to bed.

I'll get back to you soon with more.

Tonight's affirmation is fresh from my dear friend, Victoria:

"Every day, and in every way, I am getting better and better!"

I am.

Hello, all.  Very happy to say that I survived surgery and I'm back home to continue my recovery.  It's certainly not been a linear path to recovery by any stretch of the imagination.

For now, however, it is late.  Any writing I begin at this point will be either:  1. Very brief, as I quite tired. or 2. Rambling, as I have so much to say.  Knowing this, I am now going to retire for the evening and catch up with you later.

Good night.

One last word before I retire for the evening.  I wanted to say how proud I am of my son, Kenny, who turned 36 while riding a rented Harley in the Southern California mountains. I love you, son.

Now, my son is a man of many, many talents. Those of you who enjoy this blog and my aimless ramblings would be well served to do the following:

Point your browser to Poetry.com then search for my son's work. His name is Kenneth P. Petronis II and he is one of the finest men on this planet. He's in the top two, along with his grandfather, the original Kenneth P. Petronis.

He also happens to be a gifted and passionate poet. If my writing is aimless, his takes dead aim.


I'm very proud of you, son. I love and respect you deeply.

Looks like this will be my last chance to post before surgery next Tuesday. It has seemed so far off for so long, I have been able to shove it to the back of my cranium - up until tonight, that is...

Yes, I'm scared. The biggest disappointment in that statement? It means I'm normal. I've bragged my entire life of my uniqueness. Nobody has done nothin' quite like I done somethin' - or something like that...

When words fail me (stop rolling your eyes out there!), I simply quote some of my favorite philosophers, including Popeye, who so famously said, "I yam what I yam." I couldn't have said it better myself. The irony in my operation is that I've finally learned to really love the man I am, instead of obsessing over what I should have or could have or...  Whatever. Whatever I could have been, I am so proud of the man I have become.  happy being me.

Thank you, everyone, for the good wishes, prayers, positive thoughts, affirmations, energy, and time. I will rely on that positivity in my recovery.

Be well, one and all.

Carpe Diem

PS - Special thanks to all that hung out last weekend at My Little House in the Desert, especially April, Grant, Stella, Kenny, and Charley. Charley, thank you for everything. You are just the right kind of crazy.

I've had people tell me - and I'd say fairly frequently - that I think too much. I've heard it again recently, and I suppose I'm trying to process that. The challenge for me is how do I write a 'compelling' blog unless I occasionally wallow in my thoughts?

The message I hear is "Live your life. Don't ruminate on every decision, rue missed opportunities, or over-analyze every relationship..."

And that's what I've been trying to do. Live. The end of the school year is hard upon me, and the pressure is starting to affect me. Yesterday, in fact, I produced a truculent display worthy of a two-year old during our regular morning meeting at work. Thankfully, an engaging and productive Statistics class - followed by a low-key visit with Charlie - returned the bounce in my step. In fact, when I walked into work this morning, I heard, "That's the smile we missed yesterday!" and my co-workers joked with me mid-morning that they should have slipped me a Snickers bar and reminded me that I wasn't 'being myself.' Touche.

At any rate, I felt stressed, yet productive today.

And now? Now is time for me to do hit the hay. In the morning, I'll be juicing.

And hopefully smiling.

PS - The cause of my rash was the daily dose of Cialis my urologist had prescribed. We are going to try other forms of ED treatment. We shall see. Just goes to show you that no one course of treatment is best for all.

The surgery is in less than 3 weeks now. I've started prepping in earnest and I'm revisiting my support network of friends who have already been through the experience. The questions now are focused on surgery prep and recovery. Stay tuned...

Addendum:  The hot and cold flashes are real. That's all the attention I want to give them...  This, too, shall pass.

A little something different today; a quick blog post from work. Don't worry, it's before start time, so I'm on my own time :)

An update regarding my 'experiment' with Cialis. As my testosterone levels are approaching zero, my hot flashes (and cold flashes) are becoming more extreme and more frequent. To make matters worse, I've broken out in a horrific rash from the Cialis. I called my doctor, and I'm now off the medication. My sex drive, sadly, matches my low testosterone levels, but I've got a fabulous, supportive partner who worries not about the small stuff (perhaps I shouldn't use terms like 'small stuff' when I'm talking about the penis?).

So, I'm taking lots of Benedryl and itching like a banshee, especially when I'm wearing clothes (which is, sadly, most of the time...). The combination of hot flashes, itching, and drowsiness from the allergy meds have created quite the exacerbating combination. No matter. There are a lot of people out there far worse off than I am. My heart goes out to each of them...

As for me? Well, the Benedryl is helping the itching, I'm wearing a polo shirt today in lieu of a shirt and tie, so the extra air flow really helps. Now, it's time to get ready for my students, so I will have to bid you farewell.

I hope each of you has the best day possible.

I'll close with some words from one of my college students. At the conclusion of each course, students fill out a formal survey on their experience. Here is what one of my students said:

"Mr. P made learning about statistics easier than expected by adding humor, real life examples, and teaching it at a level even first graders would understand. He took the time to explain, answer all questions, and provide us with tools and great feedback."