A camera up there

Yesterday, the Complete and Total Loser spent over half an hour with a camera up a part of his body he regards as an exit-only portal that required cleansing steps prior to the camera's insertion. It wasn't a camera as most would understand it, with a lens. It was more like a probe and the procedure in some ways resembled ones you'd hear alien abduction victims (i.e., crazy people) talk about having used on them in the 1990s, when that was a thing. 
The idea was to get an MRI of the Loser's cancerous prostate to check the progress of said cancer to determine how urgent its removal may be. That's not a step most bother with, but the Loser has other health issues going on and will refrain getting his gland yanked if those other issues arise as they will kill him within a year, making removal of the prostate unnecessary. 

Technicians stand by an MRI machine, waiting to abuse the Loser.

Needles, injections of contrast fluids, a noisy machine, a narrow bed that would jerk back and forth an inch or so to get good images. No fun and in a few days he'll be undergoing something as bad at the same place for his lungs and decrepit leg that will take several times longer. 
Meanwhile, as he writes this, Southern California is burning and snow is falling in the Loser's southeastern Pennsylvania town even though it's twelve days before the start of winter. It is very pretty and calming to see, and the Loser may spike his eggnog later, sit by a window and enjoy the view.