Author Archives: John Swinburn

I heard back from my primary care physician this afternoon. I was surprised to hear back from him, after the lambasting I gave him for failing to respond to my phone calls and online messages. His reply suggested that he … Continue reading →

Until this very early morning, I’d done only a little research into lung cancer and its treatment. Now, after having explored the matter a bit, I wish I hadn’t done my investigation. Ignorance, they say, is bliss. Unless the doctors … Continue reading →

The best part of melting into a puddle of hot wax, gravity spilling it into low spots in one’s mental terrain, is that hot wax eventually cools and becomes malleable. After a day and an evening of allowing myself the … Continue reading →

The mind can wander into strange places, miserable dark alleys littered with the carcasses of dead animals and reeking with the stench of drunk old men defecating in their clothes. One’s mind can saunter into dangerous territory when the pressure … Continue reading →

Here it is, my 2700th post on this blog. That’s the number of actual published posts. One hundred eighty-nine additional unpublished drafts wait in the wings. I wrote about ten of those drafts last night. I’m glad I didn’t publish … Continue reading →

My cardiologist’s nurse just called to say my stress test was normal. I told my wife this morning that I hoped the nurse would return my call to report the doctor was stunned that my heart was healthier than that … Continue reading →

I had my PET scan this morning, which is about all I can say about that. It was only mildly uncomfortable to stay motionless on a table for about twenty minutes while the machine took pictures of the inside of … Continue reading →

Several years ago, when we still lived in Dallas, after we closed our business and retired, I had the idea of restoring an old church. It came to me during one of our aimless weekend drives in March 2013. We … Continue reading →

I’ve been more productive at writing the last few days than I’ve been in quite a while. Not cranking out novels, mind you, but behaving in ways that resemble what I was doing a year or two ago—writing enough for … Continue reading →

I used to envision myself as the poor-and-unhealthy-man’s version of Anthony Bourdain. He was a grey-haired and large, well-muscled and weathered handsome guy, compared to me—salt-and-sand hair, a smallish and softly corpulent physique, smooth-skinned, and fundamentally homely. But we shared … Continue reading →