This Cowboy's Naked Truth

Good evening.  Ok, here it is!  Got my butt chewed out by my doctors, yes, doctors.  Had a cork screw drilled into my hip for the sixth time (bone marrow biopsy), but at least it was by my beautiful doctor, Sarah Larson, and was told that I can't partake in any extra curricular activities, such as bull riding and horseback riding after I have my chest catheter put in.  Can any of you that know me tell what word in that long sentence was the wrong word?  Yep!  You're right!
Tonight, I am laying here with an aching hip due to the bone marrow biopsy.  It's all good though.  Have to work it off Wednesday helping my ex empty her storage unit and moving things to her new home.  Just things I have to get done before I am admitted.  Have a lot planned in the next 12 days.  Four more nights of bull riding, a Texas Holdem Tournament, seeing good friends, making video tapes for my children, getting my rig ready for storage, working with Cody as much as I can, two more trips to UCLA next week before admittance, and dinner with my friends.
Oh, why did my doctors chew my butt off?  Well apparently, I am pushing myself too hard.  They want me to eat, try to gain some more weight, don't let my prescriptions run out, be at the hospital on the 17th, (they seem to think I am going to leave the state or something), quit being so independent, and act like I am concerned.  Let me address each of those topics.  I am not pushing myself any harder than I have in quite some time.  This is the my life, I live it to the fullest, and I will do whatever I want to do with it.  I eat when I think about it.  Yes, I could do so much better, but this cancer just takes away any appetite and before I know it, the day is over.  I told them I would be more conscious and eat a bit more often.  I am not going to gain any weight that is going to matter, in twelve days.  It just isn't going to happen.  Ok, I forgot to get my chemo refilled and missed two days.  Seriously, what is two days going to matter twelve days before I am admitted.  Thought that was a bit of stretch, but maybe they just wanted to get my dander up because I am so nonchalant about all of this.  My independence is a problem.  Everyone has problems.  Everyone has jobs.  Everyone had their own lives to attend to.  They want a list of people, preferably as few as possible, that are going to babysit me in the cancer hospital.  I told them I planned on taking care of myself.  I've done for 62 years and I think I can handle this.  This is where they got really upset with me.  One month in a cancer hospital, sixty miles away, and they think I am just going to have someone stay with me, 24/7?  I know that there have been a couple of offers to come for a day or two, but thirty days?  Ain't going to happen.  I worry about that when I get discharged.  They seem to think that I don't think this is a big deal because I don't act worried.  My doctor today said this, "You are the coolest cowboy I have ever seen, doesn't anything bother you?"  I told her that there were many things that bothered me but I just don't need to show that.  I have cancer.  I am going to have a bone marrow transplant.  I may not live?  I could have serious complications?  If I worried about any of those every day I would drive myself crazy and I don't think it would be healthy.  Yes, all those things are going to happen or could happen but that's part of the game.  I can't worry about those things.  It's not my style anyway.
I plan on riding with Luis one more time if possible, go to my final four bull riding sessions, ride Cody, play poker, meet with friends and have my farewell dinner on Sat the 16th.
Bottom line is this.  I am going to play poker with the devil for the ninth time in my life.  I have beat him the previous eight hands and I plan on taking him one more time.
Thanks to y'all for the comments, support, donations, time, prayers and love.  They're all important.  A lot of people I don't hear from as much as I did when this first hit the news wire, but I feel they are still concerned and want the best.
Time to hit the hay.  After shooting guns with my buddies this morning and six hours at the hospital, I am tired.  Goodnight y'all.