You’d think I’d died with the length of time between blogs. Guess what? I didn’t. At least it doesn’t seem like I did. Moment maybe!
What has happened since last we spoke? I really don’t know since I don’t have the last entry before my nose. Was it Dexter Rawling’s birth, if not I will later point to Tara’s blog. If you go there, you’ll find it filled with so many wonders of real life, so do that. Perhaps it was one of my emergency room visits, if you missed them you really did miss something. I used to say, and still do, if you want to raise money, invite those to have it to spend 24 hours there. I covered all the hours during those 24 hours. What a rat hole. Similar to the old movies of insane asylums. Any similarity to executive offices is non existent. If you ain’t ill – you will be. You’ve got to be non human to be untouched. An emergency room can be defined as all the Tarantino movies wrapped into a 45 moment trailer.
Perhaps you missed the fact that although my cancer got the crap knocked out of me, as it has moved to that innocuous category of being contained, stable, then everything is now right with the world. I raise it not as a secretive trap to regain sympathy if I had ever sought it to start with. Please, God forbid. But maybe, just to suggest to and for others, that being bed ridden, lonely, no longer able to fend for oneself or the million and other pains in the ass are just that. Recently I had some gut pains, not unlike many others that brought me to my knees despite my back pain patches that operate 24/7 and are opium (again, remember the movies!) My personal Richter scale was buzzing at a record breaker 9. My doctors are so proud; I never understood that simple scan that went from one to ten. It’s simple as say at 9 you have no protection from the tears rolling down the cheeks. Where the heck am I going with this? Oh yeah, now I remember, I don’t frequently remember. Please, I beg a favor. Don’t ever again in your lifetime laugh at one who tries, but can’t remember. Ost especially when they themselves suggest its funny. THEY LIE AS A TOOL to hide their pain which may very well be higher than that blasted 9. Well, the gut pains simply (every time I get something now it seems to be simple – like almost being blind before the SIMPLE operation? of taking them both out. Oh, that’s nothing because they tell you there is something behind the right eye that might explosively become something they can’t do anything about. How will I know, well he says to me, YOU’LL KNOW. Anyone out there able to help – what does that mean? However, on second thought don’t tell me, I wouldn’t be big and strong. Then, it’s the to be expected, because its caused by the medication – the neuropathy among other things. I usually can’t remember it, now I just can’t spell it. It’s more fun than anything – it works on the hands. Legs and feet. You could probably remember it better if you put it to song. It ums the extremities, it hurts like hell at times, it tingles like now, it makes you go lighter on the keyboard so you more frequently go too light on the keys (you want a good laugh, look at my stuff without the a’s because my left little finger can no longer take the hit, it makes you think too much (it sometimes leads to depression), it makes you feel at times like someone is sticking you with pins and it hurts but you just can’t keep up with them to make them stop, but more than anything it scares you because you’ve been using those arms more than ever since the cancer. Oh, I would sure hate to lose their use or their strength. It makes you want to say you’re sorry to anyone who can’t make out what you’re trying to say because one of the things you do remember, was that there was a time when it was okay, you had it right and you didn’t have to apologize. I’m going to be mean, and instead of just deleting this (page filler) stuff myself, I’m going to be nasty and put it in the hands of my editor, Tara (Note from Tara: I am leaving the "filler"and content as is becuase it is what it is, honest, true.)
What has happened since last we spoke? I really don’t know since I don’t have the last entry before my nose. Was it Dexter Rawling’s birth, if not I will later point to Tara’s blog. If you go there, you’ll find it filled with so many wonders of real life, so do that. Perhaps it was one of my emergency room visits, if you missed them you really did miss something. I used to say, and still do, if you want to raise money, invite those to have it to spend 24 hours there. I covered all the hours during those 24 hours. What a rat hole. Similar to the old movies of insane asylums. Any similarity to executive offices is non existent. If you ain’t ill – you will be. You’ve got to be non human to be untouched. An emergency room can be defined as all the Tarantino movies wrapped into a 45 moment trailer.
Perhaps you missed the fact that although my cancer got the crap knocked out of me, as it has moved to that innocuous category of being contained, stable, then everything is now right with the world. I raise it not as a secretive trap to regain sympathy if I had ever sought it to start with. Please, God forbid. But maybe, just to suggest to and for others, that being bed ridden, lonely, no longer able to fend for oneself or the million and other pains in the ass are just that. Recently I had some gut pains, not unlike many others that brought me to my knees despite my back pain patches that operate 24/7 and are opium (again, remember the movies!) My personal Richter scale was buzzing at a record breaker 9. My doctors are so proud; I never understood that simple scan that went from one to ten. It’s simple as say at 9 you have no protection from the tears rolling down the cheeks. Where the heck am I going with this? Oh yeah, now I remember, I don’t frequently remember. Please, I beg a favor. Don’t ever again in your lifetime laugh at one who tries, but can’t remember. Ost especially when they themselves suggest its funny. THEY LIE AS A TOOL to hide their pain which may very well be higher than that blasted 9. Well, the gut pains simply (every time I get something now it seems to be simple – like almost being blind before the SIMPLE operation? of taking them both out. Oh, that’s nothing because they tell you there is something behind the right eye that might explosively become something they can’t do anything about. How will I know, well he says to me, YOU’LL KNOW. Anyone out there able to help – what does that mean? However, on second thought don’t tell me, I wouldn’t be big and strong. Then, it’s the to be expected, because its caused by the medication – the neuropathy among other things. I usually can’t remember it, now I just can’t spell it. It’s more fun than anything – it works on the hands. Legs and feet. You could probably remember it better if you put it to song. It ums the extremities, it hurts like hell at times, it tingles like now, it makes you go lighter on the keyboard so you more frequently go too light on the keys (you want a good laugh, look at my stuff without the a’s because my left little finger can no longer take the hit, it makes you think too much (it sometimes leads to depression), it makes you feel at times like someone is sticking you with pins and it hurts but you just can’t keep up with them to make them stop, but more than anything it scares you because you’ve been using those arms more than ever since the cancer. Oh, I would sure hate to lose their use or their strength. It makes you want to say you’re sorry to anyone who can’t make out what you’re trying to say because one of the things you do remember, was that there was a time when it was okay, you had it right and you didn’t have to apologize. I’m going to be mean, and instead of just deleting this (page filler) stuff myself, I’m going to be nasty and put it in the hands of my editor, Tara (Note from Tara: I am leaving the "filler"and content as is becuase it is what it is, honest, true.)
One of the real problems with cancer was that at first it wanted to demand your life, however, it has come to be that the longer you hang around the slower or more exacting the cost. It becomes the loss of contacts and maybe even friendships. You’ve gotta give credit where its due. The health delivery systems, through their clinics are beginning to recognize these problems. Let’s see if I can remember. They call them “the quality of life issues”. They’re like the old-age and dementia issues. “Hey”! Wait a minute; I’m really going overboard with this page filler stuff. Tim just asked me if I’d like to take a ride and I’m going to jump real quickly at that and send this off to Tara. Tara, what do you say – just because it’s been so long, do we want to blog this? (Note from Tara - Yes.) I’m going to send it to Tara without reading it again – go out with Tim and when I come back – read it and see what she says.
With no hesitation and with complete meaning – love you all. Let’s keep me as well as the blog alive in the sense of Quality of Life. I should have seen the Child’s movie about cooking and laughter instead of Division 9 and Besterds. I am getting old. Please God – body – maybe yes, but mind never.
