The Last Storybymagichands©
My goal when I started writing was to do at least 100 stories, and to more or less lay out a chronicle of my life.
Some of them were fantasies, sure, but fantasies are a part of me, too.
The vast majority are true, mostly. Oh, I added a few things here and there to try and spice things up a little. The women I met got prettier in time and my mind. I became a bit more virile than I was sometimes, that is about it.
I got lots of feedback, too. Some from jerks but most positive. Many wanted to meet, not understanding that a lot of the stories I wrote were from 30 years and more ago. Reading them myself, I can see that it might be tough to understand that my life was not a mayhem of constant sex.
It was a life of close to perfect normalcy, with a few incidents here and there. But just 3 or 4 encounters a year count up to quite a few when one realizes these happened over 4 decades.
I won't make it to 100 stories, but I may have a few more left. I needed to write this one now, while I am still sure I can.
I was sitting in Doc Barker's office, waiting for him to come in with the results of some tests. I had noticed I had a nagging chest cold, and a cough.
I did the usual, took some cough medicine, tried to rest. Next I noticed my normal 230# had dropped to 215#, best to go see the Doc.
Doc Barker and I got along well, he was the kind of Physician we all dream of. I mostly just told him what was wrong, told him what I thought I needed. He would double check, and nearly always agreed.
It was a surprise when one day he sent his wife over to my home office for a massage. I found out a bit about him that day, it was fine. She was Tina, and she was fine, too!
One thing I learned teaching Massage Therapy for 25 years, and working in the field, is that lots and lots of men like having another man touch and look at their wife.
In a safe environment like the one I offer, I would guess that this type of situation is more normal than not!
Anyway, Doc Barker came in and sat down. I knew him well enough to sense that he was uncomfortable.
"So what is going on, Doc?" I asked him, already knowing.
"Well, there is a spot on your lungs," he said. "Actually several!"
I looked right at him, there was sadness, almost defeat in his eyes. "How bad?" I asked.
"Well, it is past operating." He said flatly. "But there are a number of things we can try."
He went through the options, I didn't like any of them. I would be very ill from the treatments, but there was a "chance", he told me.
"What kind of chance?" I asked him.
"Maybe 10%, that depends a lot on you!"
"And if I do nothing?" I asked.
"You will feel pretty much OK until it gets bad, then you fail quickly." he said, beginning to understand where I was headed.
"So how long if I just go home?" I asked him.
"Six months, 12 tops," he said.
I thought for a second, made my decision. He stood up and shook my hand. "How about I send Tina over for a massage?" he asked me with a grin. "She would like that, me too!"
"Sure, on me!" I told him, and went out and hopped in my new z06 Corvette.
I got some tears in my eyes on the way home, hell, I wasn't ready for any of this. I guess no one ever is.
Headed north on the freeway, I decided to lay the car out. After all, "Just what the hell are they going to do to me!" I thought, as I found a clear stretch and laid my foot down.
The machine responded instantly, letting out a throaty howl as I hit 6000 in 3rd, then 4th, then 5th! 150, 160, 170, 180, I slipped out into the center divider and shot by a pair of shocked motorists running 70 or so side by side.
I heard the rattle of some gravel flying up, "There goes the paint!" I thought. Then I realized I didn't give a damn about the finish anymore.
I rolled out of the gas and dropped back down to normal speed, as it suddenly hit me I was being silly. No point in taking someone innocent with me.
Over the next few weeks, I busied myself making arrangements. There was still the annual checks coming in from the big win in Reno, (Yep, true story, go look it up, it was in all the papers)
I had Tom, my Lawyer, set things up so my Grandaughters could go to college if they wanted, and split enough so that Lee would be comfortable.
Besides, Lee is a Doctor and pulls down over 100G a year and she doesn't even work full time.
I did the life estate bit to fix the tax problems, all the things I should have done years ago.
I started working out, and filled the fridge with all sorts of veggies and juices, like that was going to make any difference.
In just a few short weeks, I looked around and nothing to do!
Lee quit working, she was busy researching options for me, and she was making me take a few pills and saw to it that I did my workouts every day.
The funny part was I felt just fine, even the cough went away. I had to buy some new pants to fit my now 205# frame, but the shirts still fit.
It took me awhile to get used to eating Broccoli raw but after awhile I preferred it that way. One cup of coffee a day was rough at first, but one day I realized I had gone a week with none, so I just stopped.
So I started my Massage Practice back up. Sitting on my fanny, eating veggies and working out was getting boring. I had a nice repeat session with Tina, that was fun. No point in writing that story, it was just like the first session. But all the rest were just nice therapeutic massage work, the kind I also love to do.
Lee and I were still active in the bedroom, too, which was a bit of a surprise considering Doc Barker had told me that I might lose some of that. But I stayed as ready to go as ever, 3 to 4 times a week is normal for me.
One day about 3 months later I was doing one of the followups, and the results were different. The spots on my lungs had simply quit growing! I had had several spots on my skin removed, some by freezing, some by snipping them off. One sure sign of an ailment like mine is unexplained skin eruptions, they tell me.
One showed up on my arm, I just took a razor and clipped it off, too lazy to go have the Doc do it.
It was nearly 8 months later when I noticed more changes. The cough came back, spots of blood. Then short of breath, all in the space of a few days. One funny thing is my hair turned white in just a couple of weeks, that pissed me off, to be frank! I used some men's formula to try and make it look normal, but it just got dark and silly looking.
So I know now my time is coming, and it's close. I sit here writing this, it may be my last story. I will try to write some more, we shall see.
Hell, 90% ain't bad! I wanted 100 stories, though...Oh, well. I started out writing for fun, then ended up writing for me. My life, complete with ups and down...Just like all of us, I guess.
Not bad....Not bad at all...I can't complain, there isn't much that can happen to someone that hasn't happened to me. I have raced cars, flown planes, made and lost millions, made them again, won millions, climbed mountains, been loved, and in love myself. I have been down, and on the street, and forced to drag myself back up using nothing but my own stubborness and friends. In the final analysis, I know I am a good an honest man who cares. If there is a God, I will petition him/her for mercy, if it isn't granted, I will accept my next fate. No matter what one believes, no one truly knows, I will see.
Yes, Not bad...Not bad at all...
A pretty good life, a good time...but coming to an end..I would be lying to you if I said I wasn't scared..but I am ready..
*Startup..."What do you want the computer to do?" the screen says.
*Shutdown, I select.