HIPPIE-HANGOUT, HOSPITALS AND HAIRY PAWS

Trip 'n' Daisy's Hippie-Hangout 

          The time has arrived when Sarah and I had planned on loading up our "Hippie-Hangout"  (1973 Golden Falcon trailer) and heading down the road towards BC, Haida Gwaii being one of the places we were hoping to visit. However, that won't be happening this year. Instead, Sarah has been getting it ready to park at a neighbour's place near the hospital, where I'll soon be pampered by scantily dressed women and fed the most delectable meals - whoops - my chemo-brain must be confused. The last time I was in the hospital, the nurses, not exactly visions of extreme beauty, kept on waking me up at all hours of the day and night, sticking needles in my arms, taking my temperature and feeding me semi-palatable meals. But hey, after my three day stay, at least I had a happy-ending - I was able to walk out of the hospital with a big grin on my grizzled face. Unlike any other four-star resorts I've stayed where I wasn't in a rush to leave, although my bed was quite comfortable, the view of the parking lot sensational and the staff had glowing smiles (most likely waiting for a substantial tip), I couldn't wait to shed my Johnny outfit, put on my gumboots and head out the door. 

          Hmm, have you ever wondered how your life might have gone if you had followed the aptitude results way back in high school? I may not have become a stately surgeon with certificates up the yin-yang, have adoring patients thanking me for miraculous results in saving their lives from the most horrendous accidents and illnesses imaginable but I was supposed to be a veterinarian of all professions. Somehow shaking hairy paws and having my face constantly licked by thankful animals doesn't quite seem the same as being a successful doctor. Anyway, lucky for the animals, I was more interested in using a brush, rather than a scalpel. (The word 'scalpel' seems somewhat an odd choice for describing a knife, gives me the sense of being scalped - do you think that's what it was originally intended for?)  

            As the days tick by, my operation now approaching faster than anticipated, at my age or probably any age for that matter, I of course have mixed feelings about being sliced and diced. Having hardly ever been sick in my whole life, I'm not too sure how this old body will respond to having its guts rearranged, a little snip here and a little snip there, tie that piece off and tuck it in here and oh yeah, chuck that cancer bit into the waste basket. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of confidence in my doctor and even if the operation goes sideways, shit happens, I know he has my best interests at heart and will do everything to make sure that

I leave the hospital the same way I entered, on my own two feet.

             But let's not get caught up in what might happen and might not happen; life is for the living and I'm still feeling fairly lively. So with that thought in mind, I'm still working on future endeavours, like letting my alter ego Trip take over and make plans for our 2019 road-trip. Yeah, Trip is a 'trip'. He's been letting his hair grow long and looking forward to wearing beads and bell-bottoms once again, won't be able to tell he's wearing gumboots, which will most likely have hippie-symbols painted all over them. His language has once again been infiltrated by "Hey man...freedom's just another word for..." and "Groovy...pass the brownies." Yeah, he's anything but "uptight" and "out of sight", he's a here and now kinda dude and still looking forward to seeing "castles in the air" and "strawberries forever"...peace, eh! - Trip

My wife and I recently started up an Etsy Store a little while ago and if you'd like to check out our artistic creations just click on the link.