<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sun, 10 Aug 2025 00:45:10 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Bionic Thoughts</title><description></description><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>27</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-1838845642489700477</guid><pubDate>Tue, 18 Nov 2014 02:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-11-17T21:01:44.213-05:00</atom:updated><title>Dad-Brain. You know what I&#39;m talking about.</title><atom:summary type="text">It&#39;s not a normal brain. I call it the dad-brain. This is not to be confused with the zombie-brain, which 


drives the dead body to consume living flesh. Dad-brain sees monsters that are (most likely) not there. It&#39;s not real, which is why you can&#39;t confuse it with the zombie-brain (which is TOTALLY real). If you&#39;re not a dad, you won&#39;t understand this. Moms know about dad-brain; you can tell </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/11/dad-brain-you-know-what-im-talking-about.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2eKqnx-6f5h7-el6TRh0WvUCjZQjQdB0sTfDVuoZ_1cQY5DdvbJ7xNL0HIns5C4fuUZSYSkFbU5wDYpdq0IUNhIgPfuosySPLcUs6esCA12RugT5W0WEaHJTCqF8NhyxXDI8pbMlLCbpV/s72-c/drugs_brain_tumors.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-7059348974285774756</guid><pubDate>Sat, 11 Oct 2014 23:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-10-11T19:28:50.488-04:00</atom:updated><title>6 Hours of Hell</title><atom:summary type="text">Colonoscopy Redux

I know I&#39;ve hit this topic before, but just having had my second one this morning I felt compelled to delve into it again, so I apologize for any redundancies from my first post. FYI: I didn&#39;t actually have two this morning - I had the first one last year. I&#39;m not that masochistic. As before, most of the focus will not be on the procedure, which is really nothing, but will be </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/10/6-hours-of-hell.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtm8Ra-hVbctqMasRUJYWcvR-e9ew8mtUET8U3afKSmJxSI_pRn-Kxb-m3C-3SAfDPV4bR4fEy4K8nV-rdXthypPoM0B7i6JqFjRLp4R4grdwiI5N7FzfVpiOVD_RG41xNyMFZukafvaR/s72-c/toilet+tissue.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-6661149150978548411</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 Aug 2014 15:59:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-08-25T11:59:11.093-04:00</atom:updated><title>Nobody&#39;s Guaranteed their &quot;Someday&quot;</title><atom:summary type="text">Clocks only really tell you how much time has gone past. They don&#39;t create time. Moments in the future may not happen. &quot;Someday&quot; may never come.

I lost a friend and colleague yesterday. He had been diagnosed with prostate cancer a short while before I had. Another colleague recommended I contact him since we were very close in age and he was trying a newer, alternative&amp;nbsp;(possibly </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/08/nobodys-guaranteed-their-someday.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9YR3jM89nHD5DqoekXk7A4idStmelnUR9_5jiwnp9CPeCfRlQFa0vw9o86IYeBYM9Z6wIiddJLNbf1hyphenhyphen6Wiewa0n6WLhhCK5iAT0cimC64sS4_qClrn6RbCcKYLa9LD8UbftZ19Ln4hBW/s72-c/now.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-1723079757251868654</guid><pubDate>Tue, 19 Aug 2014 22:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-08-19T18:32:27.333-04:00</atom:updated><title>Dishwasher</title><atom:summary type="text">

Confession: I put no thought at all into how I put items into our dishwasher. I know what you&#39;re thinking - typical male. I know I&#39;m supposed to give this some attention, and it really does make a difference what&#39;s on the top and bottom shelves, but to be brutally honest about it, it doesn&#39;t matter at all.

It doesn&#39;t matter because I live with the dishwasher police. Just joking! &amp;lt;jk&amp;gt; &amp;</atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/08/dishwasher.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg23z5z16gogg3H8xvcmTOzOihabVpV71uXra0sjHrfa02Zo-qMzbZzdJOYyaQB0iinXYCItJh_mKYipP5Dda7GtKM1OpB02sfuf-Sf6IfXWdcNxKi7XbLVUfYrQEYmAig5Q2f_EWWdXRjo/s72-c/dishwasher.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-4664690890758004719</guid><pubDate>Wed, 06 Aug 2014 15:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-08-06T20:05:11.881-04:00</atom:updated><title>Am I Just Making Expensive Pee?</title><atom:summary type="text">

Multivitamins and supplements. I take them, but I&#39;m always wondering: are they making me healthier, or am I just making really expensive urine?

Why do I wonder? There&#39;s just so many conflicting opinions. Healthcare professionals, and by that I mean people who work at GNC or The Vitamin Shoppe, highly recommend them, using specialized technical jargon like, &quot;Creatine&quot;, &quot;Branched Chain Amino </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/08/am-i-just-making-expensive-pee.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8y_0xw0YRyiiH4qQh5w3wlKPlR_xT4TkLDYVyfR1uJXTSKazS3fRll1oL6ZubdeEjMSt6vxWKEjNMHUcIERIRNzeP9ylMOk1L5rb-l-RxEeSjPwus7QQ4mfhqVqJHcrshc_2BxvSEVZsY/s72-c/vitamins.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-35035619214579907</guid><pubDate>Tue, 01 Jul 2014 16:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-07-01T12:40:10.671-04:00</atom:updated><title>Hiking (aka eating bugs)</title><atom:summary type="text">I love hiking - communing with nature, being with my wife, getting exercise (I can earn almost an entire day&#39;s worth of extra calories on a 3-4 hour hike, which allows me to have a fast-food shake or decaf/mocha/cappa-frappa/caramel/vanilla bean/double espresso latte), seeing nature in all its glory - what&#39;s not to like? I&#39;ll tell you: bugs. Yes, I understand, bugs are part of nature, but </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/07/hiking-aka-eating-bugs.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSFzmZd8rlb8Aue0eEdUILAtn1S4Dn4_FRvN1nwNj4XFyHNIbdPuHEnU_1TEKUoNMZTi5hiRjsGpxPtaEuL4Bz8J3OW7T-_c6O9R7oN1VwlwXwa04BDxMJ3gbO9EL-ZAulOnzN8AjzF0_a/s72-c/hiking+meme.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-6777786684397249738</guid><pubDate>Tue, 17 Jun 2014 15:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2024-09-20T08:23:06.535-04:00</atom:updated><title>Diet Crazes (Crazies)</title><atom:summary type="text">

I&#39;m just SO sick and tired of being barraged with the latest &quot;new&quot; way to: lose weight/get rock-hard abs/get rid of the 40 lbs of undigested meat you&#39;ve been carrying in your intestines for decades. Every week there&#39;s a &quot;new&quot; way to get the body you want, when it&#39;s really pretty simple: stop eating crap.

Breaking News: A new berry, found in the excrement of the red-butted baboon, is thought to</atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/06/diet-crazes-crazies.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin8UtLOTrY6ulZ_yOEUP5uQu1wOaHqiw6Dm_B_m5CWxGi51ewe3q7DMIftWJaS4hv5v_3PumD_mvmNuOSC4my530f_Ki54JylLKv6RwTpbm-9CURtnPvdYMcbT74_H26mVuesuvd7HbCQz/s72-c/superglue+lip+gloss.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-3668827232003894023</guid><pubDate>Tue, 29 Apr 2014 15:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-04-29T11:45:59.927-04:00</atom:updated><title>What Kind of Cleaning Fluid Are You? I&#39;m Benzene.</title><atom:summary type="text">

Can we just please all agree to stop with the Facebook quizzes? The first couple were entertaining, but I believe the &quot;jumping the shark&quot; level has been breached. No one cares which Dwarf you are, what kind of toe fungus you are, what kind of spice (unless you&#39;re a former Spice Girl, and then...do tell, girlfriend!!) you are, etc.. Move on, it&#39;s over, time for a new Facebook activity to </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/04/what-kind-of-cleaning-fluid-are-you-im.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXg7PoXX-IOHpBSu-Hcwg0XvPheMG4uErYpRph0SndWprYohBIRb61mlnwaaZom7rZHuc834Zgs3b1fXqiYEMY0kIkfWz5RLSgTebBPg88YS-_3hWlTaB5P7BCjqC9mprSiJKnOuJvehqs/s72-c/FB+Quizzes.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-2614648831405871569</guid><pubDate>Tue, 08 Apr 2014 15:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-04-08T11:51:17.685-04:00</atom:updated><title>Yoga - The Final Frontier</title><atom:summary type="text">So, we&#39;re doing yoga. I&#39;ve done it before, when I was much younger, and really enjoyed it. But now I&#39;m 55 and have the flexibility of your average house cat. If your house cat was dead. In rigor mortis. And frozen. You get the idea. I also had far fewer major injuries back then, although, to be honest, I&#39;d have to go to my pre-5 year-old days to have NO major injuries. Such is life. So what does </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/04/yoga-final-frontier.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJmXx2b0u-p6sAsos9XEQKJdXO-d8wN0qBwrOBxZhaW7_exonFY6cqxxzhhrKL4lVTJUMxnoHDOnj_L1EBcbjydTsIDvUpNxOpNhSwycaZb0XCn6i2F-ExMgeF0dJt6xZpU239swJv-vl5/s72-c/yoga+female.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-8426967995469553395</guid><pubDate>Sun, 26 Jan 2014 22:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-01-26T17:06:50.526-05:00</atom:updated><title>Big Lot Stores</title><atom:summary type="text">I like big lot stores. Mostly I like the ability to get my shopping done while having new tires put on my car, getting my oil changed and a lube job, getting new eyeglasses, and coming soon, having a colonoscopy performed. Hopefully they use a different lube than the automotive service area. I&#39;m also a fan of being able to buy an entire year&#39;s supply of toilet tissue in a single visit.

Of course</atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/01/big-lot-stores.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLnBx7ChyM89JHo3n7AwPh3zCbev7Py8EQ36Wb0_zZyf0uwYs2TcNR4Q_Bft9DEMJRjj2WIezQtgSiRwBPAhlp_uCRpCxeakAjHLnuW0KYS5nuc_V3S8Y-TvjowzLf0wEb-OT4EnbqRUUe/s72-c/costco.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-7321275070583577444</guid><pubDate>Mon, 20 Jan 2014 00:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2014-01-19T19:51:01.715-05:00</atom:updated><title>Groin Tackle</title><atom:summary type="text">On December 2, 2013, tight end Vernon Davis of the San Francisco 49ers was tackled by St. Louis Ram safety T. J. McDonald. BY THE GROIN.&amp;nbsp;Watching an NFL player get tackled in his most sensitive area (surprisingly, not his bank account), as unpleasant as it was to watch, had to pale in comparison to actually having another player tackle you by grabbing your groin and dragging you down. Sure, </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2014/01/groin-tackle.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvzIlrBZwMau4e7304HHtKazu3Rhd2mKaVLMa0xu9aLYWEd5ZbioTm_P49B16CLDrSKmFAY16jGU3NKRxqNxtPyITlRIsEOym3MbroKH67QNbL9jLfsM2V6LvOtZf0o3HlpfNykF2Fq_-/s72-c/groin.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-7116680346244981384</guid><pubDate>Sun, 29 Dec 2013 21:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-12-29T16:15:45.682-05:00</atom:updated><title>Space Invaders</title><atom:summary type="text">No, not the old video arcade game where you could zap the invaders with your laser cannon.



I&#39;m talking about those people that seem to have to be right up in your face to talk to you. I mean, literally, IN YOUR FACE. Which, in itself, is bad enough, but when their breath smells like what two warthogs in heat smells like (don&#39;t ask why I know two warthogs in heat smell like - I&#39;ve been advised </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/12/space-invaders.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJB3yoTbyoRC5NRPUGMejKBlzquCLspYF7XboV3fG1-12_G9cG6JYEreX0Ec9vE_x8YFK_lUL9PM20WBGR3pR03O0I5w8-39ZsN_Hb0RhVw0-7Bdj-de-3nAP7bdNXE1VTfwN7cYPA-hha/s72-c/face+talker.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-4639468793748263758</guid><pubDate>Thu, 21 Nov 2013 17:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-11-21T15:45:11.072-05:00</atom:updated><title>The Fan - A Cautionary Tale of Bad Behavior and Porta-Potties</title><atom:summary type="text">

Fans. The lifeblood of any sport. Without fans, there would be no arenas, multi-million dollar salaries, sports agents, televised sports events, etc. No superstars, nor their DUI&#39;s, arrests for illegally carrying guns (sometimes shooting others with them, sometimes shooting themselves), fines for testing positive for controlled substances. Speaking of televised sports events, I&#39;m not referring </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-fan-cautionary-tale-of-bad-behavior.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcMJOZWvjZzY1sSfubsqs0lTMRTmQV-0WFwqGP7ydvZ-Xa3InSLq-AwQg3Yn90tSU-KpEJ50XB_GVuuEgd2AHCDMbGZqbNST-nChci1RiZrkO9JcNoVujTWeXGZRkn87pmQ3kb1inhnX7U/s72-c/fan.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-4276291633994072345</guid><pubDate>Tue, 19 Nov 2013 16:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-11-19T11:25:16.826-05:00</atom:updated><title>Bunco - A Man&#39;s Perspective</title><atom:summary type="text">My wife hosted Bunco at our house the other night. Bunco is a dice game 12 women play under the guise of playing a dice game. What it really is is an excuse to get together. And eat. And talk. And talk. And talk. If some dice get thrown during this 3-4 hour event, well, you know, sometimes that&#39;s gonna happen. It&#39;s really about having a good time - if you&#39;re a woman. If you&#39;re a man, it&#39;s </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/11/bunco-mans-perspective.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgADWCE0utY318a_K1MPK6iTxBFYJx-JmSDXp5Bk2e7CxBnvIIqZCcuWvvKT3ttXqQkXEGO44Mr_aXj3BiqGL1MwBCmrbsh9eetCTsGCceSd-VSDbWRJUIhqyA_dREHP2wmy6GPWev3-Pe/s72-c/bunco.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-2362845579672466017</guid><pubDate>Sat, 09 Nov 2013 15:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-11-09T10:37:08.268-05:00</atom:updated><title>Jimmy&#39;s Facebook guidelines</title><atom:summary type="text">Okay, moving away from the cancer theme.

I&#39;m on Facebook. A LOT. Also, as part of my job responsibilities, I teach social media to our real estate agents, so I&#39;ve done quite a bit of research on this to be able to sound lucid, and I think I have a pretty good handle on good practices. The following is NOT part of what I normally teach, just my observations on some some things people (at least </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/11/jimmys-facebook-guidelines.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHAQLp9D_nyn6hqYA0cVB9ibK07gYz8qBOmpUPlUFO1GfzLK0Uvuxhg8BkVPSKzcQbvJgnwrTtJsJdcQtOA5q_JATR6PpfZvF2d0m0K4HBk8my6afq1AlbviaPu9gjGToief4gxtK1oj9/s72-c/20131109_093654.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-5290832780350115253</guid><pubDate>Mon, 04 Nov 2013 15:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-11-04T10:09:53.137-05:00</atom:updated><title>Road to Recovery</title><atom:summary type="text">Part of my recovery is to walk - basically as much as I can, and I do. I walk all around my small town, which allows me to see things you normally don&#39;t see while driving. Interesting things. Confusing things. Scary things.



What&#39;s scary? The things people do while driving. Can&#39;t tell you how many people are using their cell phones while driving, but that&#39;s no surprise. Some are blatant about </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/11/road-to-recovery.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_knmdnW2_O1vc62xO7kXL2tW_kKu7gRjivmjkKUCMmp1Cy-oOQt_szVYrLJ1FG7Ick6jEPrn_8n4aB0qzTbO2f57f62vW1_TEhbmxHvM7FgGXfWzjQ2Y2r-nHVLk4wNawSCzP5dc5gBJ0/s72-c/driving.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-6440961797314301598</guid><pubDate>Wed, 23 Oct 2013 20:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-10-23T16:22:21.524-04:00</atom:updated><title>Leakage? I don&#39;t have no stinkin&#39; leakage...</title><atom:summary type="text">When they remove your catheter, 7-14 days after surgery (9 days for me), they send you home. In. A. Diaper. Thaaat&#39;s right - a diaper. I can&#39;t imagine why some men equate this surgery with losing your manhood. There&#39;s absolutely nothing emasculating about having to wear a diaper. Except there is. Totally.



Them: Here, put this on.
Me: What is it?
Them: It&#39;s a diaper.
Me: I know. I&#39;m just trying</atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/10/leakage-i-dont-have-no-stinkin-leakage.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1vEM2v8MKZWfG1KmWofWtXthNUIq5KlVEStQD_tzTpzrIWfFzgTsExAw-JH-AvUYeBUf-cAGj1z8sh6MZWrseFAZLwa8h427PDUBLMwGMsaFWZsFs7xgYTiweOYXpMwqt8sdH8nm_Vmi/s72-c/dipaer.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-5658033538239370643</guid><pubDate>Thu, 17 Oct 2013 15:26:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-10-17T11:26:42.880-04:00</atom:updated><title>I&#39;m catheter-free!! (and no longer allowed on the couch)</title><atom:summary type="text">Yes indeedy, the catheter has been removed. I&#39;m thrilled, but also feeling somewhat vulnerable. How could this make me feel vulnerable, you ask? Picture this - I&#39;m taking one of my recuperative walks. I get accosted by a bad guy. I&#39;m still weak, stomach still distended and sore, and I&#39;m not supposed to be exerting any force that exceeds lifting anything heavier than 5 pounds. I&#39;m pretty much </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/10/im-catheter-free-and-no-longer-allowed.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSq3hFFORDDm2To04sLJDWidSU4PF9UTikbEPUGs02I5BjDiSeHfchtqKJrlsBHiM2adlG6xqbOB0HNiIyQgRdPObTb0tP_At4pvVaH14pKpl3O9PwEX5DqKcL9zA7mfqNty0I4mgigOhO/s72-c/karate.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-6926293309608794986</guid><pubDate>Fri, 11 Oct 2013 16:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-10-11T12:36:14.675-04:00</atom:updated><title>Post Surgery Post (see what I did there?)</title><atom:summary type="text">The ninjas have been officially evicted. Pathology results in early next week, but all looked good and went well. For those with lower TMI limits, now might be a good time to stop reading, although I have spared the rest of you accompanying pics.

Possible side effects of the surgery: some swelling in the groin area. That&#39;s like saying if you run into a burning house you may experience heat. Holy</atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/10/post-surgery-post-see-what-i-did-there.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpzxiU04eSoXW6DxnZVmG3JiC-zNRbkSEt4jz3VtLU6FqlK7IApakQcg6LnTHyy8UnkaaGbWxhzOsEShAIdsLlKCh45UKMHDx-BlbbrjITik-BuiljI4eqePcLJqFCDOkcCJOSedCq7ZMR/s72-c/mitt.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-7497784760087891674</guid><pubDate>Fri, 04 Oct 2013 15:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-10-04T11:39:15.814-04:00</atom:updated><title>Buh-bye, Cancer</title><atom:summary type="text">So this my last day with cancer. I&#39;ll be having surgery tomorrow and they&#39;re doing it robotically. That&#39;s right, robots - which, if you think about it, are just precursors to terminators. True, they&#39;re really, really early model terminators: pre-Schwarzenegger versions.



These robots will probably be more like a Sheldon Cooper version of terminators; really smart but not much of a physical </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/10/buh-bye-cancer.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2r2fzkBypK-bQqbNeT1lGNVxLME20nCI2A4VhSCahnwH4KfufK-IL_8eVt8wxqtGV6oGkXdywNsidTFxmGJ-eUPrS9WgByguzMvvjDDadoiIprHWx5iM8sqvsjT9fe-hYgDMeUM3BPR1Y/s72-c/Shelbot.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-3681435991253807446</guid><pubDate>Mon, 30 Sep 2013 15:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-09-30T11:48:35.542-04:00</atom:updated><title>Pre-op is Like Foreplay</title><atom:summary type="text">Pre-op is like surgery&#39;s foreplay. There, I&#39;ve made it pretty easy for you to decide whether you want to keep reading or not. C&#39;mon, my last post was about Viagra - is this really a surprise as a follow-up? Note: my blood pressure measures higher at Memorial Sloan-Kettering than any place in the universe. I keep telling them that I&#39;m a boring 120/72 kind of guy everywhere else, and they always </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/09/pre-op-is-like-foreplay.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqT56CGBJ6bBxH3yBqmBxOEw6Pn2J2k80oaZxkO3LdKPNy3QbSLpg3RKP_4vIfG_2hgZBjC_QxRKr5btXupbV9lyGMDc0DSMThsrdGPqpBVpdXvqtu6vKnphmKY11lh31icRt968tRcZs7/s72-c/Pre+Op+flipped.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-892196518512008055</guid><pubDate>Wed, 25 Sep 2013 12:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-09-25T08:52:57.102-04:00</atom:updated><title>Viagra - Yeah, I Went There</title><atom:summary type="text">I was prescribed Viagra pre-surgery to increase blood flow to the area, which can aid in healing and reduce complications. At least that&#39;s my story and I&#39;m sticking to it. That said, these things are friggin&#39; expensive! I&#39;m surprised there&#39;s not more 50+ year-old crime out there (excluding Wall St and Congress, of course). Ask your doctor if Viagra&#39;s right for you? Nah - ask your attorney if you </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/09/viagra-yeah-i-went-there.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-xdezVF8QK3z7U8yNcE2Fg1YlJsGpR15dmKM3ki86OPpSE6AXXyDDNpzgTSb7XQqv5YtjdX5agCuuLRa09uc3yoge5uLrDGhoz_Q4tOqloEqJ5nYwA4B0ZZ6Z8EN8XqmrbEd8GBrwvjL5/s72-c/Viagra+and+knife.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-680585425510976109</guid><pubDate>Thu, 19 Sep 2013 15:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-09-19T21:37:29.688-04:00</atom:updated><title>Catheter the Great</title><atom:summary type="text">Cancer&#39;s one of those things that most people keep private. But when the majority of people are unaware of what&#39;s going on, no one wins. It&#39;s like Congress that way. But not me, and that&#39;s one of the reasons I blog about it - ignoring it doesn&#39;t make it go away, and blogging about it may help someone. It certainly helps me.

Ok, so back to being snarky about this whole cancer thing. So far we&#39;ve </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/09/catheter-great.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMvicwhPy-Kom3rGpBilA41hmQdDx6HF7pAwPsx3ztkxAsjgw-8hQCgZB-2UzqIXZBPCx1kaaXd0ori6XudUr-FElRw7DHfjsv-t-zu1KQnhpCOO1sFDYEHVykVH4FMcmb9PTLoeqjgxg6/s72-c/catheter.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-1709694077567060742</guid><pubDate>Mon, 16 Sep 2013 00:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-09-15T20:40:50.856-04:00</atom:updated><title>Cancer&#39;s a &quot;Curve Ball&quot; - Really?</title><atom:summary type="text">This one won&#39;t be humorous; this post is a needed venting.

It&#39;s okay if I decide to make light of my cancer and joke about it; it&#39;s okay if my close friends and family do as well (double standards are one of my top pet peeves, so if I&#39;m going to dish it out, I have to take it, too.) It&#39;s even better when people tell me I&#39;ll be fine, I&#39;ll beat it, or some variation of that, because it&#39;s obvious </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/09/cancers-curve-ball-really.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7539663201817708749.post-4951016686729430853</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 Sep 2013 00:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2013-09-09T20:58:48.761-04:00</atom:updated><title>Kegel All the Way Home</title><atom:summary type="text">Radical Retropubic Prostatectomy (RRP) is a very large term for removing a very small organ. Like any surgery, there can be unwanted side effects, but this one includes, among others, incontinence (oh joy) and erectile dysfunction (oh joy joy). These are usually temporary, but could be longer lasting, even permanent. Yikes. The good news is that I can help my recovery immensely and reduce the </atom:summary><link>http://bionicjimmy.blogspot.com/2013/09/kegel-all-way-home.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Bionic Jimmy)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>