For the Sake of “It”

by Scott Tanner | A-musing, Anecdotal Tidbits, Musings, Poetry & Prose, Street Smarts, Writer's Retreat

"For the Sake of "It"

Twenty something years ago, I made my first foray into the world of selling precious metals. Going into it, I admit I had cast a jaundiced eye upon the field. I had many good reasons to do so, but more on that next time, probably in a future post.

For now, what I’m simply going to tell you is much closer to a true Short Story than a piece of Flash Fiction. It’s about an encounter I had with a new prospect. I don’t remember his name, so let’s just call him Jim. That’s okay because what lies within this story is a takeaway; and once uncovered, it’s up to you to decide what to do with it.

When Jim called, inquiring about purchasing gold. And after we talked about the state of affairs of our country, the world, the precious metals markets, and life. Our talk took a bizarre, subtle twist. The conversation took a dialectical turn onto the road of reason.

Jim talked about his divorce, which occurred some five years prior to our conversation. He mentioned how he had lost everything. The house, furnishings, car, retirement account, savings, friends, and more. Yet, as he continued down that track, I felt something was amiss.

His attitude, the way he expressed himself, was light, jovial; incongruent with the evocations of what we should have felt within the confines of a short, sad story. Initially, I thought maybe he was just glad to get his troubles behind him. No, it was more than that, so I just had to ask.

“Jim, what you went through would have devastated most people! How do you stay so upbeat?”

His reply was elegant.

“When I was a young man and had only recently left home, my father gave me some sage advice.”

“And”, I asked.

“He said ‘Buy gold; for the rest of your life, regularly, take physical delivery, sell only when you absolutely have to; and don’t tell anybody! So I took his advice. “

“That’s it,”

“Pretty much,” said Jim

“So how’d that work out for you?”

“After losing everything; well, almost everything, I went to my stash. Over the years I had accumulated over four-hundred thousand dollars’ worth in gold…”

I then offered him a job.

Downstream

by Scott Tanner | Anecdotal Tidbits, Creative Writing, Poetry & Prose, Writer's Retreat

waterfalls and black and gray waterfalls

Thanksgiving 2020

I have cancer.

If you’ve already read the first several posts, then scroll down and begin reading just after the August 9th entry. All future entries will begin with the most recent posting date, moving downwards, towards the oldest.

16 July 2021

What a road trip! Having cancer, has in a most bizarre way, made me become reacquainted with my “Self”. There were the dreams. Several of which morphed into full-blown manifestations.

I have a lot of things to convey. Within this scroll I’ll go well beyond just the literal aspects of my having to deal with cancer. As I continue make my entries, Ill delve into the psychological and frankly the unbelievible things that happended and are still unfolding.

What will be unvieled may amount to an allegory within an allegory. So first lest’s review…

9 August 2021

I went out one evening to meet up with my son, to play some pool, and grab a bite to eat. it was just before last Thanksgiving.

My life was already in total disarray; maybe I’ll tell you more about that later. I’m just not particularly crazy about “airing my dirty laundry” (that is unless I think I can help someone else not to make the same mistakes that I am prone to make).

We ordered a large selection of junk food. The one exception was the jumbo shrimp cocktail, which was delicious and I believe healthy— I don’t think that constitutes what’s considered to be junk food. Does it?

Anyway, it was getting late and when I got home I went straight to bed. The food hadn’t been digested and as I was lying in bed on my back I was in pain as it was passing down through my abdomen area.

The next day, when I saw my landlord I told her of my pain and discomfort. She told me to go to the emergency room and get an x-ray.

Normally I would of just yeah-yeah’d her or anyone else for that matter, and proceeded to tell my “Self” a lie and say “I’ll go and get a check-up after the holidays. That turned out to be easier said than done.

You see my landlady was a nurse and the closest person to an angel that I have come across in years.

Anyway, I went that day and it was a good thing I did. When the x-ray came back it looked like I had a large tumor about the size of a small ribeye steak just below my stomach in my abdomen area.

I was then moved to another room and my son and I lied in bed together and we waited for the oncologist. I wasn’t scared, surprised, or angry; no, there was none of that. I had some time to think, so I did!

Housed within my mind, I allowed my ‘Self” to go back a few years; maybe fifteen, no, it was closer to twenty years ago, not really sure. Anyhow— I landed for what must have been the hundredth time in an all too familiar place. This place constitutes one of only a handful of memories that will never fade— why this has to be so, I haven’t a clue.

The September 11 attack had just occurred, My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. My father had just passed, on the same day as one of my closest friend’s funeral service, which happened to be on my mother’s birthday…

My life was turned completely upside down. I am a tough old dog. At the time I was the founder and CEO of a financial services firm. 9/11 was also a direct affront to the financial services industry. Over the next six to twelve months my operations collapsed. This is the first time I’ve ever mentioned this, as what I went through was nothing compared to the plight of others; who was I to throw a pity party for myself.

The same goes for my losing a close friend, my father, and almost my mother.

After all, I had a wife and two small children to think about, I was destitute. What else could go wrong? Plenty! Oh, did I say I was tough? Maybe not so much.

Back to Thanksgiving 2020, and just beyond. It’s the twenty-year anniversary of 9/11. I’m alone, destitute, and have cancer. So I have no time to feel sorry for myself. Did I say I was tough? Yes, I am!

*************************

Downstream, 8/31/21

I'm "KRAKEN" up!

Several days after finding out I had cancer. And the night before my next appointment with my Oncologist. I was still quite restless. At this juncture, all I really knew was that I had a large tumor in my abdomen area.

That evening, after I fell asleep. I was awakened, by a noise that I heard just outside my window. It sounded as if someone was whispering. I sat up immediately, gave pause, and strained to listen. Then I heard someone whisper, “Metamorphosis”.

I realized that no one was there and that I was just dreaming. I was now wide awake, so I went to my computer and decided to unwind by surfing the net.

Apparently, I fell asleep at my desk. When I awoke, I recounted having yet another strange dream. I remember looking at a large creature sleeping at the bottom of the ocean.

It was a Leviathan; no, more like a giant squid. Let’s just go with a Kraken! I remember spearing the creature, and when I did, its mouth opened wide. Then out came what seemed like hundreds of tiny little Krakens.

What was I thinking? These dreams were quite strange. Apparently, I was still out of sorts and stressed out.

The next day as my son and I were driving to see my oncologist, I told him about the bizarre dreams I had the night before.

During my Doctor’s appointment, we were discussing how challenging it can be to determine what type of cancer I may have.

During the middle of my oncologist’s talk, he gave pause, leaned forward, and spoke ever so quietly, he said the word “Metamorphosis”. Are you kidding me, what’s up with that?

Now fast forward almost a year. I’ve undergone extensive chemo treatments, and I was supposed to be “cancer clear”. As added insurance, I was advised to undergo some light radiation treatments. This is the part where things take an apparent turn for the worse.

It appears that my cancer has returned. My oncologist, along with the others on the Tumor board, really aren’t sure what to think. Do I have cancer or not? Could I just be damaged goods, as evidenced by the radiation? Or, could we have inadvertently released the hive of baby Krakens from the biopsy procedure.

Let’s just hope I have an overactive imagination, that there’s no cancer; and I’m just damaged goods.

Next up! Another biopsy. Grreeaaat!