As a consequence of the Medical and Political drama and debate about the latest medicine ordered for me by my new Neurologist, She-With-Many-Names over the past two weeks, I have been denied the opportunity to be in the position to work with my doctor and the team there at The University of South Florida at Tampa General Hospital.
I was to speak with doctor's assistant today, I followed her instructions to the period and gained no aid in reaching her. In the morrow morning we will have an opportunity to discuss this further. I have not the slightest clue as to why an insurance company would refuse a patient the right to take medication as prescribed by a physician.
Yes, I am disappointed, in a rather major way, really.
If I didn't know any better, I would say that I am just not White enough for the insurance company. The Not-The-Red-Cross, thinks maybe I am not Spanish enough. Maybe? I don't know.Yes? No? This is my first time being refused medication by an insurance company. I think I'll call the insurance company myself come morning to speak with a customer aid.
The Insurance Company...
...the Pharmacy...
...and my Team-Mates with my Better Health, Mind, Body and Spirit Team, here at the Neurological and Rehabilitation Dept., have let this team mate down.
I am covered by two insurance agencies. One private and one government.
Sad, en'it?
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
An Incident At The Government Office's
This actually happened to my gimp ass earlier this afternoon around 1330, while over at the office's of the Department of Education, Vocational Rehabilitation, Veteran's Affairs, the Tampa Bay Work Force Alliance, and other similar governmental office's.
My Little Blue Bus had just been dropped me off for my meeting with my VR counselor.
As I walked towards the center corridor of this once-a-mall-office building addressed, 9215 N. Florida Ave., I stopped to take an inhale from my emergency inhaler. It was necessary that I stop just for one moment or two to catch my breathe and wipe my globe's forehead, as it is might hot out of doors...
...in this moment or two, in a room the size of the bottom floor of a Sears Department Store, with dozens of computer's with a diverse people's at most of them. While I took in the cool air, took a breathe of medicine, and wiped my skull, there was a young pup of maybe twenty two or three, at a desk maybe four feet from me, with a cubical type partition between us both, who really thought he asked me, "are you, looking at my screen?", I looked over my shoulder to see who he was talking too and asked him if he had me mistaken for some one else...
...well, from this point we had a brilliant show of how not to have a confrontation with an Elder who doesn't take to kindly to being spoken to in such a 'street lingo'. I mean, gawd, you all know I don't fucking curse, um, too much.
Roof-roof, bark bark, woof woof, yackity yack-yack, and acting like two damned fool's.
Kin, I stood up for myself and had to really give that boy a good damned deep down, talking to. Out loud and in public too. I swear, he thought he threatened me with bodily harm and in turn I offered to provide him with a smashed face. Then, out of the deep blue sky, like lightening striking, a dear lady asked, "Will one of you be the Man and just walk away?".
Her words broke the cycle. Immediately. Thank you, Ma'am and thank you, My Dear God.
Because My Dear Lord, somebody was going to have some hurt feeling's today. Might have could been me, I don't know, but I say, this ole gimpy elder would have gotten in some. There might maybe had been a boo-boo or two, or a fat lip and I thank you God, for sending in your Angel, the rational lady with the wise words.
God, I forgive that young pup, and ask that will you please forgive me? I sinned today, I was a part of this incident at the government office.
My Little Blue Bus had just been dropped me off for my meeting with my VR counselor.
As I walked towards the center corridor of this once-a-mall-office building addressed, 9215 N. Florida Ave., I stopped to take an inhale from my emergency inhaler. It was necessary that I stop just for one moment or two to catch my breathe and wipe my globe's forehead, as it is might hot out of doors...
...in this moment or two, in a room the size of the bottom floor of a Sears Department Store, with dozens of computer's with a diverse people's at most of them. While I took in the cool air, took a breathe of medicine, and wiped my skull, there was a young pup of maybe twenty two or three, at a desk maybe four feet from me, with a cubical type partition between us both, who really thought he asked me, "are you, looking at my screen?", I looked over my shoulder to see who he was talking too and asked him if he had me mistaken for some one else...
...well, from this point we had a brilliant show of how not to have a confrontation with an Elder who doesn't take to kindly to being spoken to in such a 'street lingo'. I mean, gawd, you all know I don't fucking curse, um, too much.
Roof-roof, bark bark, woof woof, yackity yack-yack, and acting like two damned fool's.
Kin, I stood up for myself and had to really give that boy a good damned deep down, talking to. Out loud and in public too. I swear, he thought he threatened me with bodily harm and in turn I offered to provide him with a smashed face. Then, out of the deep blue sky, like lightening striking, a dear lady asked, "Will one of you be the Man and just walk away?".
Her words broke the cycle. Immediately. Thank you, Ma'am and thank you, My Dear God.
Because My Dear Lord, somebody was going to have some hurt feeling's today. Might have could been me, I don't know, but I say, this ole gimpy elder would have gotten in some. There might maybe had been a boo-boo or two, or a fat lip and I thank you God, for sending in your Angel, the rational lady with the wise words.
God, I forgive that young pup, and ask that will you please forgive me? I sinned today, I was a part of this incident at the government office.
Monday, April 29, 2013
The Politic's Of Medicine Continues, Week Two
I am compelled to share with my Guest's, that I have had the second week anniversary from the date I dropped off the prescription ordered by my new Neurologist, Dr. She-With-Many-Name's. My God, yes, the drama and politicking continues over a new medication she ordered.
I am uncertain, no, drop that, it is clear to me that somebody or some company has created drama for a person who is a patient in search of a better way of life. It is as it has always been that when a doctor or a doctor's assistant, order's me to take a medication, I eat the medication until I/we know that there is nothing wrong going on within my system's additional pill and or tablet.
It is a total ironic blast to visualize this in my mind, because I am usually the one reporting that I would rather not take the medicine. I have out-right refused medications in the past and all things considered, just may do so again. Yet, I am in dire straits, a place where I understand when the time comes to take a step up and try something new. Then please, let's all be on the same page. All knowing the direction I wish to head. Knowing what we as a Team know now, it is in my best interest to insure all future medicinal transactions be handled well in advance of when I am to receive them. This drama and humiliation beckons me to the reasoning I have in attempting to eat as few medications as I can.
I don't know.
What, with the Meniere's, Asthma, Migraine's, Cervical Spine, and the High Blood Pressure. There is the Sugar Diabetes and Neurological issues, Cervical Spine and lower Lumbar Spine misery. The Thyroid, depression, anxiety, etc, etcetera. There is no doubt in my brain's that I might could have created some form of other Elk shit disease. note: Elk's expel pellets. Please, for just a moment, think of all of the pills I have had to eat in the past four years alone, as I take a moment and try not to remember every injection I have had in this same period. This makes me feel just a little bit queasy, eh?
What is that?!
The Politics's Of Medicine Continues. As a patient, this withholding of medication is something that I have never had to deal with. I don't like the way this has me feeling as a patient, as a fellow Human Spirit and as a Man. If MY DOCTOR, has an idea or concept of change made to MY LIFE, then let MY DOCTOR and I DECIDE WHAT IT IS WE DO WITH ME AND MY BODY.
For shits sake, this is my body. I do not belong to my doctor or the pharmacy. Neither, am I owned by some insurance company, with their gestapo like political agenda when it comes to MY Health, Body, Mind and Spirit's. I am my own Advocate. There is also My Advocate. Maybe it is time to reach out to him. I see and sense that some donkey has gone and had me mistaken for some other son-of-a-bitch. Huh? Why yes, I have been known as both, a bitch and a son-of-a-bitch, and it doesn't matter much to me. They both have so often come to the aid of my own mule ass. This is my life. This is my life in real terms, dig?
Please, please, please, why play political games with a person's well being? I am the patient, my doctor has ordered a medicine that will assist me with creating a healthier routine in life and My Path. I can dream about this or I can advocate for myself until some one hears me. I am committed to being an advocate for me and all of my health. I can also dream, just not about the politics's of medicine as I see it from here.
I am uncertain, no, drop that, it is clear to me that somebody or some company has created drama for a person who is a patient in search of a better way of life. It is as it has always been that when a doctor or a doctor's assistant, order's me to take a medication, I eat the medication until I/we know that there is nothing wrong going on within my system's additional pill and or tablet.
It is a total ironic blast to visualize this in my mind, because I am usually the one reporting that I would rather not take the medicine. I have out-right refused medications in the past and all things considered, just may do so again. Yet, I am in dire straits, a place where I understand when the time comes to take a step up and try something new. Then please, let's all be on the same page. All knowing the direction I wish to head. Knowing what we as a Team know now, it is in my best interest to insure all future medicinal transactions be handled well in advance of when I am to receive them. This drama and humiliation beckons me to the reasoning I have in attempting to eat as few medications as I can.
I don't know.
What, with the Meniere's, Asthma, Migraine's, Cervical Spine, and the High Blood Pressure. There is the Sugar Diabetes and Neurological issues, Cervical Spine and lower Lumbar Spine misery. The Thyroid, depression, anxiety, etc, etcetera. There is no doubt in my brain's that I might could have created some form of other Elk shit disease. note: Elk's expel pellets. Please, for just a moment, think of all of the pills I have had to eat in the past four years alone, as I take a moment and try not to remember every injection I have had in this same period. This makes me feel just a little bit queasy, eh?
What is that?!
The Politics's Of Medicine Continues. As a patient, this withholding of medication is something that I have never had to deal with. I don't like the way this has me feeling as a patient, as a fellow Human Spirit and as a Man. If MY DOCTOR, has an idea or concept of change made to MY LIFE, then let MY DOCTOR and I DECIDE WHAT IT IS WE DO WITH ME AND MY BODY.
For shits sake, this is my body. I do not belong to my doctor or the pharmacy. Neither, am I owned by some insurance company, with their gestapo like political agenda when it comes to MY Health, Body, Mind and Spirit's. I am my own Advocate. There is also My Advocate. Maybe it is time to reach out to him. I see and sense that some donkey has gone and had me mistaken for some other son-of-a-bitch. Huh? Why yes, I have been known as both, a bitch and a son-of-a-bitch, and it doesn't matter much to me. They both have so often come to the aid of my own mule ass. This is my life. This is my life in real terms, dig?
Please, please, please, why play political games with a person's well being? I am the patient, my doctor has ordered a medicine that will assist me with creating a healthier routine in life and My Path. I can dream about this or I can advocate for myself until some one hears me. I am committed to being an advocate for me and all of my health. I can also dream, just not about the politics's of medicine as I see it from here.
Dear Google, Help
My Dearest Friends At Google,
I am asking, again and this makes three times, to please have the advertisement's of 'women' on my blog removed. Simply permanently. Dear Friend's, for me personally, this is disgusting. For one, I am not trying to have folks find porn or locations of exotic or erotica scenario's peculiar to me and considering them with questionable agenda's. Scruple's, really?
I mean, really, I have communicated this before and am once again put in the position to have to send this communique. Today's topic by the way, was "Thai Women", and by the photograph applied to my blog, women who very really-really look more like teens in my eye orb. For me, it is Thai food, yes. Thai Women, no. And, no, don't ask.
Google, I am not interested in any form of advertisement's that would have males and or females sell their body's or anything of the sort on anything I publish. Considering you all are the Computer God's, I reckon you all may have the notion that I am wrong with that numeral three. Yes, Ma'am, this has happened a few times. I just stopped counting. You see?
Um, Goggle, I really mean to share that I am uncomfortable with the concern I have for reprisal. I know what the pain of that feels like, please, no reprisal.
I seek your professional aid and am in need of your help. Please?
Warmly,
Me and I
I am asking, again and this makes three times, to please have the advertisement's of 'women' on my blog removed. Simply permanently. Dear Friend's, for me personally, this is disgusting. For one, I am not trying to have folks find porn or locations of exotic or erotica scenario's peculiar to me and considering them with questionable agenda's. Scruple's, really?
I mean, really, I have communicated this before and am once again put in the position to have to send this communique. Today's topic by the way, was "Thai Women", and by the photograph applied to my blog, women who very really-really look more like teens in my eye orb. For me, it is Thai food, yes. Thai Women, no. And, no, don't ask.
Google, I am not interested in any form of advertisement's that would have males and or females sell their body's or anything of the sort on anything I publish. Considering you all are the Computer God's, I reckon you all may have the notion that I am wrong with that numeral three. Yes, Ma'am, this has happened a few times. I just stopped counting. You see?
Um, Goggle, I really mean to share that I am uncomfortable with the concern I have for reprisal. I know what the pain of that feels like, please, no reprisal.
I seek your professional aid and am in need of your help. Please?
Warmly,
Me and I
The Plumber Was An Angel
Kindred,
You all must remember the talk of the plumber in my ceiling and the talk of pipes mating, tubes doing the sexy back. Talks about chasing leaks. And in the mean while, my head was counting calculating and processing and worrying way too much about what the final out come was going to be when time came for signing the invoice came...
...when the second leak was found and the water had been turned off in the South Yard, I approached the fellow known as the plumber in the ceiling. He informed me that he was not going to adjust or change what was given at the estimate...
...I was so moved I began to cry. For one moment almost too uncontrollable.
When the third leak was located and the third hour quickly passed us by, I decided not to approach him on the money piece. I was quite concerned that the third and final leak was going to place him in the position to have to adjust the invoice from what was quoted.
He never did adjust that invoice. Neither did he put into factor that he was here in the attic of my lodge for off and on three hours. In this Central Florida-Skip-The-Spring Summer! Seen.
That plumber in my attic ended up being a real life and alive Angel. He sure was an Angel, for my wife, Bonnitanigua and I. The dude even has the name of a Saint, for God's Sake!
And Hush. I don't want to debate this topic. In my silly big small brain and mind I know that Angels are for real. I know this as a matter of fact, you see...
...I sure hope I was a good host.
You all must remember the talk of the plumber in my ceiling and the talk of pipes mating, tubes doing the sexy back. Talks about chasing leaks. And in the mean while, my head was counting calculating and processing and worrying way too much about what the final out come was going to be when time came for signing the invoice came...
...when the second leak was found and the water had been turned off in the South Yard, I approached the fellow known as the plumber in the ceiling. He informed me that he was not going to adjust or change what was given at the estimate...
...I was so moved I began to cry. For one moment almost too uncontrollable.
When the third leak was located and the third hour quickly passed us by, I decided not to approach him on the money piece. I was quite concerned that the third and final leak was going to place him in the position to have to adjust the invoice from what was quoted.
He never did adjust that invoice. Neither did he put into factor that he was here in the attic of my lodge for off and on three hours. In this Central Florida-Skip-The-Spring Summer! Seen.
That plumber in my attic ended up being a real life and alive Angel. He sure was an Angel, for my wife, Bonnitanigua and I. The dude even has the name of a Saint, for God's Sake!
And Hush. I don't want to debate this topic. In my silly big small brain and mind I know that Angels are for real. I know this as a matter of fact, you see...
...I sure hope I was a good host.
Somtimes When I Get Weird, En'it?
Sometimes, when I get carried away in the moment, I can get so full of things that have been said, or lived and or tasted by force and to remember I have felt myself ripped by rape and the love for or wait, is it the love from the perpetrator's that continues to confuse me because of the things I feel in my Soul. And my Spirit's too. How can I forgive other's when I can't forgive myself? All of me knows that I'm weird en'it? Am eye? Sometimes when I get carried away, I can feeel my innards and energies inside me get full of anxiousness and I can feel my heart skip the beat that causes my pulse to skip and skip and skip. So much so, the folks who take it, (my pulse) ask me time and time again, "do you know you have a skipping hear beat?", and my reply is always the same, "get the fuck outta here!". No, not really, but it sure sounded good there for a minute. And then, I think about all of the awesome foods I ate over this past week end, while Kinfolk from out of town were in town and my sister Kala came over and my baby sister, Lala came over with her children and her ball's and chain and no, I'm not sorry for saying that, the bastard knows I love him. I see that I might can get carried away and weird too, sometimes I'm okay with this. I am me, enit'? Sometimes when I think of all of the pressure I have been up and under over the past few years that I can sense that I am getting carried away with all of these medically imposed issues and acknowledge that I have my problems and know that we all have our problems and sometimes I wonder, "what the fuck have I gotten myself into?", and eventually am able to walk up right as I walk away from what or whoever it is that I am stressing myself about and or over and or both. I don't know, but I know that that at this moment I feel awfully true when I say that I may have somethings I wish to share. So I share and I speak up. How in the hell is somebody going to get things right-right in the mind and life force when there is so little care and or the minuscule amount of support that I am positive this is because I have had my heart broken so many times that I stoped counting when I was eight. I mean, really? I am but a human and one with two spirit's and many ego's and a few personalities. One with enough scar tissue to have layers of this removed, frozen and then sold on the Black Market for them folks who enjoy making lamps from my grafted epidermis. Look, I know I gt carried away, but I don't need some goof ball with their own shit, telling me how to deal with mine. Often times, it is them who share with me their thoughts about the subject of forgiveness. How can I forgive other's when I can't forgive myself. Especially, them who are so full of themselves that I become their sub-servant. Moose Shit! Is what I say to them and I don't give a shit if they are Kinfolk and also don't really give two Water Buffalo shits if their Kinfolk, and yes, I know I said that twice. I know what I meant to say. Damn it, he is so weird sometimes. En'it? It scares me and I am afraid that I am being set up for abuse and am being groomed for more sexual abuse and I think to myself is this really what I am to be forced fed the rest of my fucking life? My whole damned life? And oh, I wanted to say, my whole god damned life? Is this my place in life? Is it to be that I must constantly be on full alert when in the company? When in public I know how to deal with this shit, but personally I have had one issue over another issue and after issues with this fucking shit as a fifty three year old son-of-a-bitch who still believes that I am weird looking inside and out. All of these years I have seen abuse. I have felt the horror of rape. I still deal with the fucking nightmares and I still have my panic attacks and people in position's who want and wish to place more and more diagnosis's on my name with things that are old scars resulting from forced sexual favors. What was that!? How is that at thirteen I was being sexually abused, forced upon by incest and now that I am fifty three the same shit is to continue to happen? What the fuck is that!? I know I get carried away, but folks forget. Folks think they know, fuck, folks don't know why I get carried away. Or why I cry or why I want to bleed and be okay with being this so weird, en'it? How can I forgive other's if I can't forgive myself?
Note: This is what I meant it to be. One paragraph of my utterance's. Seen?
Note: This is what I meant it to be. One paragraph of my utterance's. Seen?
Friday, April 26, 2013
Up There In The Attic
The plumber up there in the attic located another leak when we turned the water back on. This leak was created by the other pipe touching this one, the other pipe. I say, bloody pipes, touching and doing all of that rubbing and fucking each other drama up there. What? Shit happened here.
Up there in the attic, is a room I have never been in. On purpose. You see, I have this dreaded fear of attics. Basements too, eh, but I don't have to worry about a basement here, we don't have one.
After, Mr. Plumber Dude, fixed the first two pipes, we tested the water down below by running the tub, kitchen faucet and what-not's...
...my plumber guest hollered down from up there to turn the water off. I told him that I had already, but he meant at the main source.
He climbed down to explain to me that he had located ANOTHER leak. This one is because of the copper tubing being the "old type" of copper tubing. He said that this type of leak happens often when this type of thing happens. Pipes touching, rubbing, and shit. So, this is now leak three.
Mr. Plumber Dude, calls it, "chasing leaks" now.
It is 1824 and my Mr. Plumber Dude is up there in the attic fixing another got damned leak.
I question myself as to whether I should ask him how is this going to influence the price of that quote he gave me when he first got here, um, naw boo, I think I'll keep it to myself...
...think I'll leave be, Mr. Plumber Dude and him chasing leaks alone.
I don't want to distract or interrupt the going's on up there in the attic. Pressure?
Up there in the attic, is a room I have never been in. On purpose. You see, I have this dreaded fear of attics. Basements too, eh, but I don't have to worry about a basement here, we don't have one.
After, Mr. Plumber Dude, fixed the first two pipes, we tested the water down below by running the tub, kitchen faucet and what-not's...
...my plumber guest hollered down from up there to turn the water off. I told him that I had already, but he meant at the main source.
He climbed down to explain to me that he had located ANOTHER leak. This one is because of the copper tubing being the "old type" of copper tubing. He said that this type of leak happens often when this type of thing happens. Pipes touching, rubbing, and shit. So, this is now leak three.
Mr. Plumber Dude, calls it, "chasing leaks" now.
It is 1824 and my Mr. Plumber Dude is up there in the attic fixing another got damned leak.
I question myself as to whether I should ask him how is this going to influence the price of that quote he gave me when he first got here, um, naw boo, I think I'll keep it to myself...
...think I'll leave be, Mr. Plumber Dude and him chasing leaks alone.
I don't want to distract or interrupt the going's on up there in the attic. Pressure?
A Plumber In My Attic, Under Pressure
It is 1628 and at this very moment I have a plumber in my attic. There were two copper pipes rubbing onto one another and it created a pin hole that began to drip water. Every time we used the hot water the tubes would vibrate and it leaked, and leaked until our garage was getting dripped on, creating tiny streams the tumbled down and towards the garage door. The water damage to the dry walled ceiling is stained an ugly shade of brownish nicotine color, as if the roof of our lodge smoked cigarettes or cigars or those beautiful pipes the old people smoke.
I touched one and many of the walls in the immediate area of our lodge affected by the leak. I prayed and I thanked the Great One for keeping this leak contained to the general area of the drip. I did touch the ceiling in my garage and felt that the water was cold. It felt cold to the touch because of the amount of time it sat there in the wood and dry wall, being absorbed like a sponge soaking up this precious liquid until it couldn't hold anymore.
We found out late last night that the source of leak was actually from hot water and water heater, so we were forced to turn off the water heater, which in turn also turned off our range/oven/stove. It is the same breaker in the fuse box, en'it? No shower and no hot breakfast this morning...
...I will confirm this though, it is true when a person says, "you don't know how good you've got things until a thing or two is removed from your day to day". Damn it, it's true. All I want right now is some cold clear ice water to soothe this thirst and or maybe a nice tall glass or three of some Southern Iced Tea with lemon.
And oh, wouldn't it be fantastic to take a shower right now? The perspiration, sweating, and the misting on my skull is a combination of Meniere's symptoms and this gorgeous hot Florida Spring we're having.
That, and this pressure that bubbles over between these two ears of mine.
I touched one and many of the walls in the immediate area of our lodge affected by the leak. I prayed and I thanked the Great One for keeping this leak contained to the general area of the drip. I did touch the ceiling in my garage and felt that the water was cold. It felt cold to the touch because of the amount of time it sat there in the wood and dry wall, being absorbed like a sponge soaking up this precious liquid until it couldn't hold anymore.
We found out late last night that the source of leak was actually from hot water and water heater, so we were forced to turn off the water heater, which in turn also turned off our range/oven/stove. It is the same breaker in the fuse box, en'it? No shower and no hot breakfast this morning...
...I will confirm this though, it is true when a person says, "you don't know how good you've got things until a thing or two is removed from your day to day". Damn it, it's true. All I want right now is some cold clear ice water to soothe this thirst and or maybe a nice tall glass or three of some Southern Iced Tea with lemon.
And oh, wouldn't it be fantastic to take a shower right now? The perspiration, sweating, and the misting on my skull is a combination of Meniere's symptoms and this gorgeous hot Florida Spring we're having.
That, and this pressure that bubbles over between these two ears of mine.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
A Note of Thanks, An Escape to Safety Harbor
My Dearest Sweet Jennifer Lee,
I wanted to share 'out' loud how much I am thankful for you helping me escape from this exile today. Did you know that since I went disabled I have never one time escaped from home alone? With your help I did today. I must admit I feel somewhat wimpish for backing out of your invite to dinner. Friend Gurl, you know I 'love' to eat too! That silly gimpy one within was acting up and these facial spasms continue to hurt me dreadful. Thanks for being so kind and understanding. I wish to thank you for coming way over here from Saint Petersburg, to pick me up and drop me off way over there in Safety Harbor. Then to pick me up later in the day too! My goodness, Ma'am, what an awesome sweet thing for you to do.
My Spirit's and I are honored by your respect & kindness. It was your kindness that provided me the opportunity to pick up the special telephone from the Safety Harbor Library's Deaf Services.
All I can say is, "Wow!". Not only did you assist with a great escape, you also assisted with me with gaining equipment that will benifit me in many ways.
Let me also share that I was able to have my favorite beverage over at Starbucks, sat a spell in the air condition and connected with the partners working their shifts. I called their district manager to share my appreciation for the team working at this beautiful spot.
From Starbucks, I took a short stroll down to one of the most awesome stores in the world, "Antiques to Aardvarks". I visually poked about for an hour and a half at the store and never did make it further down Main Street, but sure was able to pick up a couple of neat items. What a super treat! You're probably well aware that I love to shop, Jennifer, just about as much as I enjoy eating. Ha! That's a toss up right there. My dearest sweet Jennifer Lee, again, I thank you so very much. The bonus sweet treat was getting to see your precious "yungin's"! I love them mucho!
I Love You All, Always, Mario
I wanted to share 'out' loud how much I am thankful for you helping me escape from this exile today. Did you know that since I went disabled I have never one time escaped from home alone? With your help I did today. I must admit I feel somewhat wimpish for backing out of your invite to dinner. Friend Gurl, you know I 'love' to eat too! That silly gimpy one within was acting up and these facial spasms continue to hurt me dreadful. Thanks for being so kind and understanding. I wish to thank you for coming way over here from Saint Petersburg, to pick me up and drop me off way over there in Safety Harbor. Then to pick me up later in the day too! My goodness, Ma'am, what an awesome sweet thing for you to do.
My Spirit's and I are honored by your respect & kindness. It was your kindness that provided me the opportunity to pick up the special telephone from the Safety Harbor Library's Deaf Services.
All I can say is, "Wow!". Not only did you assist with a great escape, you also assisted with me with gaining equipment that will benifit me in many ways.
Let me also share that I was able to have my favorite beverage over at Starbucks, sat a spell in the air condition and connected with the partners working their shifts. I called their district manager to share my appreciation for the team working at this beautiful spot.
From Starbucks, I took a short stroll down to one of the most awesome stores in the world, "Antiques to Aardvarks". I visually poked about for an hour and a half at the store and never did make it further down Main Street, but sure was able to pick up a couple of neat items. What a super treat! You're probably well aware that I love to shop, Jennifer, just about as much as I enjoy eating. Ha! That's a toss up right there. My dearest sweet Jennifer Lee, again, I thank you so very much. The bonus sweet treat was getting to see your precious "yungin's"! I love them mucho!
I Love You All, Always, Mario
Under Pressure...the Politic's of Medicine.
Relations,
I had an appointment on the yesterday afternoon with He-Who-Touched-My-Brain. I had a blast with the staff and had right good face to face talk with Doctor. I did not keep him too long on this visit. What was said, was said and shared and I sit here knowing that I have one of the world's finest physician's in my life as a Leader in my Better Health, Mind, Body and Spirit Team. He knows that he has my total trust and an unconditional love that comes from the person whose very brain has been touched by this fellow human. In my heart, he is like an Earth Spirit. Doctor D., shared the results of audiology tests conducted there at the clinic this afternoon. The tests of both hearing and bone bone conduction. Doctor took the time to research a medication I am eating extra doses of. It is a neurological pain medication and I was concerned of consuming too much quantity of this particular medication. I am no longer concerned about that now. The deep inner ear pain are still being considered neurologically related, so I apply deep tissue massage to self. I swear there are times when I wish for a man, maybe a cowboy, with strong and unrelenting hands and fingers who would or could penetrate to the bones of my scalp, neck, and shoulders. Doc., says my right ear looks good even with the issues of pops and plopping and the dang liquid that manifests from within. Tells me that my left ear looks beautiful. (I don't think he knows that I love it when he says that) This new lump near the site of implant will be addressed by the application of a steroid ointment. I was so afraid of the potential for some snip-n-cut, but, none such, and my dear He-Who-Touched-My-Brain, shares, informs and reports that it is time for me to seriously consider hearing aids for my right-good-bad-ear...
...I don't know what I am more under pressure about, the expense of picking out a Hearing Aid. I mean, that's just for me to pick one out, as in $100.00, BOOM! right there gone from our financial matters. Then I am also thinking about the expense of the actual hearing aid, what will the fucking insurance company cover and what will it not. I mean. Or, is it that I am that much closer to one who is Deaf and now, even more Hard of Hearing? I don't know, but I betcha I am under pressure.
Kindred, I am still waiting for the medication She-With-Many-Names ordered for me. This medication was ordered on 16 April 2013. Today is 24 April, and I ask why is it that the drug store up the street and my insurance company decide to have a debate with the medication it is that I am to eat. God Bless America! And no, not you, it is you stank ass medicinal folk. Yes, you whores, who make patients like me wait for the fucking politics of medicine to run its course.
Yes, I'm very well aware that this type of mentality is totally against my call to arms versus medication served by pill, tablet, or capsule and injections too. Because I much would much rather NOT take or eat any more medication's. For Shits Sake!
Damn it, some folk's don't know!
If not for my yard dude, I would be living in the swamps with grass, weeds and Lantana, up to my birthing hips. And yes Mister, it was said long ago that I had birthing hips. Maybe far back as 1984. So, yes, it is important for me to maintain a certain shape and am knowing that I must lose some of this gawd damned weight wrapped around my waist. I mean, I mean to say that I am under pressure you all.
My New Neurologist has informed me that for the time being we have gone as far as we can with the injections. I have to wait for the next round of Botox next month. Yesterday I mentioned Physical Therapy, traction and massage for a part of my rehabilitation to the nurse who was a go-between Doctor and I. Also, this is where the increase in neurological medicine comes in. That new fancy-shmancy politically driven anti-depressant comes into the picture from here too. This will piggy back the anti-depressant that I am currently eating. The one I take now is a teenie tiny pretty little sparkling white pill. Every night before bed time, yes Ma'am, I eat and swallow...
...sometimes I might forget, I figure it must be because I am just under pressure.
Under pressure, the Politic's of Medicine.
I had an appointment on the yesterday afternoon with He-Who-Touched-My-Brain. I had a blast with the staff and had right good face to face talk with Doctor. I did not keep him too long on this visit. What was said, was said and shared and I sit here knowing that I have one of the world's finest physician's in my life as a Leader in my Better Health, Mind, Body and Spirit Team. He knows that he has my total trust and an unconditional love that comes from the person whose very brain has been touched by this fellow human. In my heart, he is like an Earth Spirit. Doctor D., shared the results of audiology tests conducted there at the clinic this afternoon. The tests of both hearing and bone bone conduction. Doctor took the time to research a medication I am eating extra doses of. It is a neurological pain medication and I was concerned of consuming too much quantity of this particular medication. I am no longer concerned about that now. The deep inner ear pain are still being considered neurologically related, so I apply deep tissue massage to self. I swear there are times when I wish for a man, maybe a cowboy, with strong and unrelenting hands and fingers who would or could penetrate to the bones of my scalp, neck, and shoulders. Doc., says my right ear looks good even with the issues of pops and plopping and the dang liquid that manifests from within. Tells me that my left ear looks beautiful. (I don't think he knows that I love it when he says that) This new lump near the site of implant will be addressed by the application of a steroid ointment. I was so afraid of the potential for some snip-n-cut, but, none such, and my dear He-Who-Touched-My-Brain, shares, informs and reports that it is time for me to seriously consider hearing aids for my right-good-bad-ear...
...I don't know what I am more under pressure about, the expense of picking out a Hearing Aid. I mean, that's just for me to pick one out, as in $100.00, BOOM! right there gone from our financial matters. Then I am also thinking about the expense of the actual hearing aid, what will the fucking insurance company cover and what will it not. I mean. Or, is it that I am that much closer to one who is Deaf and now, even more Hard of Hearing? I don't know, but I betcha I am under pressure.
Kindred, I am still waiting for the medication She-With-Many-Names ordered for me. This medication was ordered on 16 April 2013. Today is 24 April, and I ask why is it that the drug store up the street and my insurance company decide to have a debate with the medication it is that I am to eat. God Bless America! And no, not you, it is you stank ass medicinal folk. Yes, you whores, who make patients like me wait for the fucking politics of medicine to run its course.
Yes, I'm very well aware that this type of mentality is totally against my call to arms versus medication served by pill, tablet, or capsule and injections too. Because I much would much rather NOT take or eat any more medication's. For Shits Sake!
Damn it, some folk's don't know!
If not for my yard dude, I would be living in the swamps with grass, weeds and Lantana, up to my birthing hips. And yes Mister, it was said long ago that I had birthing hips. Maybe far back as 1984. So, yes, it is important for me to maintain a certain shape and am knowing that I must lose some of this gawd damned weight wrapped around my waist. I mean, I mean to say that I am under pressure you all.
My New Neurologist has informed me that for the time being we have gone as far as we can with the injections. I have to wait for the next round of Botox next month. Yesterday I mentioned Physical Therapy, traction and massage for a part of my rehabilitation to the nurse who was a go-between Doctor and I. Also, this is where the increase in neurological medicine comes in. That new fancy-shmancy politically driven anti-depressant comes into the picture from here too. This will piggy back the anti-depressant that I am currently eating. The one I take now is a teenie tiny pretty little sparkling white pill. Every night before bed time, yes Ma'am, I eat and swallow...
...sometimes I might forget, I figure it must be because I am just under pressure.
Under pressure, the Politic's of Medicine.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
On Bended Knee
One or maybe two days ago,
as I sat reading the daily press
I heard the weather man say,
don'tcha worry none - there ain't
no storm or no rain come this way.
I asked the self, did he really?
We are in a year's long drought
and this fool on the television smile's?
And as I pray for rain I hold back
the yearn to dislike this strange bangy belly.
As a native Floridian, I am knowing
and have a respect for the clouds,
the thunder and lightening. We
are in a lack there of, of this
wonderful blessed rain so sweet.
Great Spirit, our lakes are dry
our rivers, creeks and ponds
have gone so long without water
grass and weeds grow where there
was once fish and frogs who would cry
for the liquid from seasonal weather.
Great Spirit,
on bended knee, I plea.
as I sat reading the daily press
I heard the weather man say,
don'tcha worry none - there ain't
no storm or no rain come this way.
I asked the self, did he really?
We are in a year's long drought
and this fool on the television smile's?
And as I pray for rain I hold back
the yearn to dislike this strange bangy belly.
As a native Floridian, I am knowing
and have a respect for the clouds,
the thunder and lightening. We
are in a lack there of, of this
wonderful blessed rain so sweet.
Great Spirit, our lakes are dry
our rivers, creeks and ponds
have gone so long without water
grass and weeds grow where there
was once fish and frogs who would cry
for the liquid from seasonal weather.
Great Spirit,
on bended knee, I plea.
I Am Not A Number
Hello and Greeting's Kind One's,
Well, my name is Mario. My Dad's name was Mario, whose Dad had same name. In my Circle's of Spanish, Italian and Cuban Kinfolk, we are the Sanchez's and Sierra's and I swear I had cousins named Mario, Uncle's/Tio's named Mario, and I have a nephew in the Carolina's named Mario, too. With an intense sense, I say we may have some familiar faces or mannerism's even, but I assure you we all differ between one and another. As if from a different tribe or another.
I am beginning to feel more and more comfortable eliminating a numeral from my name. I mean, I have been a 'III', most damned near all my life. There was a period in school when I did not use it, there have been times when I use MS3, as my initials, still even after all of these years. That was something I picked up while stationed in Germany back in 1978 and '79.
While in Grade Five, my teacher Mrs. Lee, who was born in Guam, provided many of her students to be called whichever or whatever name we wished to be called. My name was Michael. No shit. I'll never forget that year with Mrs. Lee. She was not only my teacher she was my confidant. I fell in love with her and her family and we maintained contact all the way up until her crossing just a few years ago. Mrs. Lee, is the teacher who introduced me to Beethoven, with that she opened up my ears and my mind. To this very day, The Ninth Symphony is my favorite for life. I read anything and everything I could get my Boy hands on about Ludwig. I celebrate his birthday every December. No joke. My Dearest Bride and one of my Greatest Teachers ever, Mbawana, will share that this is marked on the calender every year. To know that he was Deaf when performing this symphony for the first time always amazed me. Oh, my dear Mrs. Lee, you have always been my favorite teacher...
...teacher's. We just don't have enough! And God, please bless these who teach our children today. I can admit that I loved so many and so many stuck on me and ended up loving me to deaf. Have I mentioned before that Honorable Daughter Number One is an English Teacher? And oh yes, Honey's, I was a Teacher's Boy, in fact and you see, none ever referred to me as a number.
Sometimes my skin and I feel like we are a number now. Somehow, I have learned to accept this less and more and to some degree, but I swear, I am no body's damned number. I am but a simple mixed bred mystic fellow with health inflictions that "I" still have not yet wrapped around my head.
I can share and assure you I have been referred to as a number, by word and I see these numbers on the paper work that is generated by medical staff, government officials, and representatives from different non-profit organization's. Each and every Medical Record from each and every doctor of mine has me listed by my patient number...
...my super market where shopping is a pleasure knows me and my family by a number, so does the store with the big red balls out front. Just like every store or business that we do business with.
But. I establish this, when government officials begin to handle me like a number and push off on me like a pair of dice, boundaries have to be revisited. New boundaries established perhaps. Yes. Time for me to grab some of these numbers by the balls and switch hit or something, because this numbers game is not the Lotto for me. Okay?
I am who I am and I am not your number.
Well, my name is Mario. My Dad's name was Mario, whose Dad had same name. In my Circle's of Spanish, Italian and Cuban Kinfolk, we are the Sanchez's and Sierra's and I swear I had cousins named Mario, Uncle's/Tio's named Mario, and I have a nephew in the Carolina's named Mario, too. With an intense sense, I say we may have some familiar faces or mannerism's even, but I assure you we all differ between one and another. As if from a different tribe or another.
I am beginning to feel more and more comfortable eliminating a numeral from my name. I mean, I have been a 'III', most damned near all my life. There was a period in school when I did not use it, there have been times when I use MS3, as my initials, still even after all of these years. That was something I picked up while stationed in Germany back in 1978 and '79.
While in Grade Five, my teacher Mrs. Lee, who was born in Guam, provided many of her students to be called whichever or whatever name we wished to be called. My name was Michael. No shit. I'll never forget that year with Mrs. Lee. She was not only my teacher she was my confidant. I fell in love with her and her family and we maintained contact all the way up until her crossing just a few years ago. Mrs. Lee, is the teacher who introduced me to Beethoven, with that she opened up my ears and my mind. To this very day, The Ninth Symphony is my favorite for life. I read anything and everything I could get my Boy hands on about Ludwig. I celebrate his birthday every December. No joke. My Dearest Bride and one of my Greatest Teachers ever, Mbawana, will share that this is marked on the calender every year. To know that he was Deaf when performing this symphony for the first time always amazed me. Oh, my dear Mrs. Lee, you have always been my favorite teacher...
...teacher's. We just don't have enough! And God, please bless these who teach our children today. I can admit that I loved so many and so many stuck on me and ended up loving me to deaf. Have I mentioned before that Honorable Daughter Number One is an English Teacher? And oh yes, Honey's, I was a Teacher's Boy, in fact and you see, none ever referred to me as a number.
Sometimes my skin and I feel like we are a number now. Somehow, I have learned to accept this less and more and to some degree, but I swear, I am no body's damned number. I am but a simple mixed bred mystic fellow with health inflictions that "I" still have not yet wrapped around my head.
I can share and assure you I have been referred to as a number, by word and I see these numbers on the paper work that is generated by medical staff, government officials, and representatives from different non-profit organization's. Each and every Medical Record from each and every doctor of mine has me listed by my patient number...
...my super market where shopping is a pleasure knows me and my family by a number, so does the store with the big red balls out front. Just like every store or business that we do business with.
But. I establish this, when government officials begin to handle me like a number and push off on me like a pair of dice, boundaries have to be revisited. New boundaries established perhaps. Yes. Time for me to grab some of these numbers by the balls and switch hit or something, because this numbers game is not the Lotto for me. Okay?
I am who I am and I am not your number.
Monday, April 22, 2013
An Aha Moment. And Hooking Up With God.
Greeting's Kind One's,
Maybe I had an Epiphany earlier today. Or maybe this was Enlightenment. I swear please, let me share and let it be, because Folk's, look, I have been on such a desperate travel for quite sometime. My Path and I, for one has had such a history of ill health for such a so long time now. As Folks have their 'aha' moments, I have had another and this 'aha' moment screams at me and I hear this baby loud and clear - in my deaf left and I see and hear what it is I must do, what it is I must do for I and I, my wife, Bermuda, my beautiful daughter's, Honorable Daughter Number One and Honorable Daughter Number Two. Hm, don't think I have mentioned them by name, but yes, I have two baby gurl's, one is thirty one and my other baby gurl is twenty six. Yes Sam, I know baby. Daddy knows. And I know that there are a whole bus bunch of Folk's out there who are my Reader's, you all, who are my Special Guest's. You are my medicine that is not in a pill or tablet or that is injected into my ears, scalp, neck or my fury face. Good form?
My dearest Kinfolk, and my dearest Kindred, I have to face that I have been cut off and away from myself and Folk' other than my Better Health, Mind, Body and Spirit Team, for far too long in sometime now. No, this isn't some random moment of temporary bliss, this appears to be life happening right before my very eye orbs.
You see, this 'aha' moment reminded me and my alters that I've got to keep on trucking for myself. I believe today, at this very moment that I must dig deeper and walk double time. Most importantly, for me, and this child of who I was once or maybe never ever was once, am now able to acknowledge my child within and my Spirit's rejoice. I mean, really, how am I supposed to disappoint this gorgeous innocent one within my very being...
...please, if I may, I wish to bring up another alter, as in an alter that I might be able to prostate my human form to my God. I hold full responsibility on my lacking in prayer around these parts lately. Oh, please, I do pray my prayer's, my "Hail Mary's" and my "Our Father's", but I have not had that Direct Line To God, hooked up in a while. It is time to get reconnected. I feel this in my Heart. And I realize that maybe, just maybe, I had permitted the evil one's influence to get too deep and too far far into my space. My Inner Circle. Yes, I see looking back through the rear view mirror of my memories that I grew calloused over these past few years...
...as in, since that last time I was sent home from my job at Starbucks Coffee Company, bloodied, scraped, bruised and in tears. Was it 2008? 2009? I ferget. (Yes, fer-get) It has been so long in my head that I have let this medically imposed exile bloody and beat me into tears for too many years.
I have been isolated and alienated from my community for way too long. God Knows this. Oh, how I so miss the wonderful and fantastic folk out there. My People's. My Brother's! My Sister's! Yes. Yes. Yes, and I hope I am able to chip away at this outer egg shell that surrounds all of me.
I believe, still, that I am too damned young to feel this damned old. Seen.
Maybe I had an Epiphany earlier today. Or maybe this was Enlightenment. I swear please, let me share and let it be, because Folk's, look, I have been on such a desperate travel for quite sometime. My Path and I, for one has had such a history of ill health for such a so long time now. As Folks have their 'aha' moments, I have had another and this 'aha' moment screams at me and I hear this baby loud and clear - in my deaf left and I see and hear what it is I must do, what it is I must do for I and I, my wife, Bermuda, my beautiful daughter's, Honorable Daughter Number One and Honorable Daughter Number Two. Hm, don't think I have mentioned them by name, but yes, I have two baby gurl's, one is thirty one and my other baby gurl is twenty six. Yes Sam, I know baby. Daddy knows. And I know that there are a whole bus bunch of Folk's out there who are my Reader's, you all, who are my Special Guest's. You are my medicine that is not in a pill or tablet or that is injected into my ears, scalp, neck or my fury face. Good form?
My dearest Kinfolk, and my dearest Kindred, I have to face that I have been cut off and away from myself and Folk' other than my Better Health, Mind, Body and Spirit Team, for far too long in sometime now. No, this isn't some random moment of temporary bliss, this appears to be life happening right before my very eye orbs.
You see, this 'aha' moment reminded me and my alters that I've got to keep on trucking for myself. I believe today, at this very moment that I must dig deeper and walk double time. Most importantly, for me, and this child of who I was once or maybe never ever was once, am now able to acknowledge my child within and my Spirit's rejoice. I mean, really, how am I supposed to disappoint this gorgeous innocent one within my very being...
...please, if I may, I wish to bring up another alter, as in an alter that I might be able to prostate my human form to my God. I hold full responsibility on my lacking in prayer around these parts lately. Oh, please, I do pray my prayer's, my "Hail Mary's" and my "Our Father's", but I have not had that Direct Line To God, hooked up in a while. It is time to get reconnected. I feel this in my Heart. And I realize that maybe, just maybe, I had permitted the evil one's influence to get too deep and too far far into my space. My Inner Circle. Yes, I see looking back through the rear view mirror of my memories that I grew calloused over these past few years...
...as in, since that last time I was sent home from my job at Starbucks Coffee Company, bloodied, scraped, bruised and in tears. Was it 2008? 2009? I ferget. (Yes, fer-get) It has been so long in my head that I have let this medically imposed exile bloody and beat me into tears for too many years.
I have been isolated and alienated from my community for way too long. God Knows this. Oh, how I so miss the wonderful and fantastic folk out there. My People's. My Brother's! My Sister's! Yes. Yes. Yes, and I hope I am able to chip away at this outer egg shell that surrounds all of me.
I believe, still, that I am too damned young to feel this damned old. Seen.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
When Life Happen's. Changes And Meniere's Disease
Greetings,
After having scared myself three times in my safe place, I decided it best to remove myself from said place. These damned sounds and noises that come from my ears are driving me into a dive I do not know that I am prepared for at this time. I can share this with my Guests...
...that I'm not afraid to say, that I am not afraid I may be prepared to change everything.
A change up pitch for the books and I am all up on myself when it is not I who puts this body of mine through this shit. Meniere's Disease, not breathing properly sucks. I can't drive. I have not driven in a hand full of years. For shits sake, I can't ride my old pony, Botswana, sent him out to pasture...
...as I was laying next to my softly-lady-snoring Bride, Botswana, reading my book about the Jewish Holocaust and Genocide during the WWII. I lay there in my safe place, in what was supposed to be a silent room for us to sleep and rest. As I lay there reading, I was listening to what sounded like a Piper Plane approaching from afar, North of here and sounding as if it was due to pass over head, but I listened real close like and it did not pass. The damned thing would not pass from above our lodge. So I listened and I listened real hard. It was then and when I lifted my head and right hard of hearing ear from the pillow to hear what the hell was going on. Kindred, there wasn't a damned plane above me. No, not even the slightest sound coming from out of doors. No, and stop, because I have shared the phenomena before and to the best of my memory, this may be the third or fourth time a plane got stuck in animated suspension above my sanctuary. The deaf left and the implant just lay there silently, and yet it is the left deaf ear that I hear so much shit from. Tonight, as last night there has been this stupendous roaring in the crevices of what was once my vestibular and cochlea and all of that ear stuff, and all of that hearing and balance shit on the left side of my scalp and skull. Why, at this instant I am listening to a field of corn that has been infested with Crow and their calling's, my God, what a fucking sound. I bring up the instant because these sounds happen like that too. Sounds by the moment, by the instant and then, there are the sounds that move in and don't leave.
I sit here at 2347, with air condition, sweating and am uncomfortable. On many levels uncomfortable. On the physical there is this sweating processes, the nausea has made most of today on the look out because I had had a gagging attack earlier today. When I broke fast, the eating was a nauseating experience, as in with each bite, my mouth and salivation glands produced enough of my body fluids that there was enough juices to predigest each morsel.
I fell this evening. In my bath room and bashed the top of my head with the bath room door. The door won. Since then, I have had a dramatic increase of the pain and discomfort associated with my cervical spine, my neck, shoulders and scalp. All of the before mentioned symptoms had been on an increase the past seventy hours. The fall made tomorrows calls to my doctors all the more important. By the way, these damned spiders are back, yeah, I know. I'm not positive they ever left, really. Bastards.
My balance and coordination has been way off today. I was on full alert and walked with intention and with a purpose. Today, I slept sixteen hours. Yesterday, I slept fifteen hours and the day before then and the day before that, I have slept sixteen or more hours every damned day of my life and My Path for as far back as 21 March 2013. No, maybe it was right before what the White Folks like to call Thanksgiving Day, 2012...
...no, maybe it has been since the first time I was sexually abused back in 1963. Oh my God, that is so profound that it makes me sick in my stomach which compounds an already nauseated night.
Oh, Great Spirit, wait one second. I am only fifty three. Wait. I have to stop chatting about this subject for just a spell. Kindred, something was just stirred up right then. Yes.
How am I to tell He-Who-Touched-My-Brian, that there is a new painful lump growing at the site?
I don't know. I don't know. I don't damned know.
One of the newest members to my team, Dr. She-With-Many-Names, made a statement to me that was so full of understanding and empathy that her words reached and have rested in my heart. Her words bonded me immediately to her as my new Neurologist, and I knew then that an expert in her field, with such passion and compassion for her patients just had to be my doctor too. There has been issue with the pharmacy, insurance and my doctor's office that is preventing me from getting medication she has ordered. For one bitching time, I want a brand new pretty pill, AND now, the shit has to gotten all political and shit.
An Advocate and my Doctor She-With-Many-Name's, have both asked me, "How is it that other people tell me about my disease?". The very people I speak of are the people who do not know what this disease has done to me. All of these Kind Folks with so many different organizations in my life and their words and their judgements, most damned of all my family and what friends are left with their words and judgements. You see, my Kindred One's, this is the way My Path has been traveled since the Meniere's Disease changed every-fucking-thing in my life...
...when life happened in my life, when I went Gimpy and Deaf and Hard of Hearing, with a metal plate, a walker, two or three cane's and an implant too? Shit please, people's scattered like cock roaches in the garage when the light's get turned on. Oh-yeah, this is a reality in life and it affected every branch of my White, Brown, Red, and Black Ass Family Tree. Seen.
No, I have not been able to answer my dearest Dr. Wilson or My Advocate yet. I haven't found an answer or reply as of yet. I speculate I will soon.
I reckon. Ciao Bella's!
After having scared myself three times in my safe place, I decided it best to remove myself from said place. These damned sounds and noises that come from my ears are driving me into a dive I do not know that I am prepared for at this time. I can share this with my Guests...
...that I'm not afraid to say, that I am not afraid I may be prepared to change everything.
A change up pitch for the books and I am all up on myself when it is not I who puts this body of mine through this shit. Meniere's Disease, not breathing properly sucks. I can't drive. I have not driven in a hand full of years. For shits sake, I can't ride my old pony, Botswana, sent him out to pasture...
...as I was laying next to my softly-lady-snoring Bride, Botswana, reading my book about the Jewish Holocaust and Genocide during the WWII. I lay there in my safe place, in what was supposed to be a silent room for us to sleep and rest. As I lay there reading, I was listening to what sounded like a Piper Plane approaching from afar, North of here and sounding as if it was due to pass over head, but I listened real close like and it did not pass. The damned thing would not pass from above our lodge. So I listened and I listened real hard. It was then and when I lifted my head and right hard of hearing ear from the pillow to hear what the hell was going on. Kindred, there wasn't a damned plane above me. No, not even the slightest sound coming from out of doors. No, and stop, because I have shared the phenomena before and to the best of my memory, this may be the third or fourth time a plane got stuck in animated suspension above my sanctuary. The deaf left and the implant just lay there silently, and yet it is the left deaf ear that I hear so much shit from. Tonight, as last night there has been this stupendous roaring in the crevices of what was once my vestibular and cochlea and all of that ear stuff, and all of that hearing and balance shit on the left side of my scalp and skull. Why, at this instant I am listening to a field of corn that has been infested with Crow and their calling's, my God, what a fucking sound. I bring up the instant because these sounds happen like that too. Sounds by the moment, by the instant and then, there are the sounds that move in and don't leave.
I sit here at 2347, with air condition, sweating and am uncomfortable. On many levels uncomfortable. On the physical there is this sweating processes, the nausea has made most of today on the look out because I had had a gagging attack earlier today. When I broke fast, the eating was a nauseating experience, as in with each bite, my mouth and salivation glands produced enough of my body fluids that there was enough juices to predigest each morsel.
I fell this evening. In my bath room and bashed the top of my head with the bath room door. The door won. Since then, I have had a dramatic increase of the pain and discomfort associated with my cervical spine, my neck, shoulders and scalp. All of the before mentioned symptoms had been on an increase the past seventy hours. The fall made tomorrows calls to my doctors all the more important. By the way, these damned spiders are back, yeah, I know. I'm not positive they ever left, really. Bastards.
My balance and coordination has been way off today. I was on full alert and walked with intention and with a purpose. Today, I slept sixteen hours. Yesterday, I slept fifteen hours and the day before then and the day before that, I have slept sixteen or more hours every damned day of my life and My Path for as far back as 21 March 2013. No, maybe it was right before what the White Folks like to call Thanksgiving Day, 2012...
...no, maybe it has been since the first time I was sexually abused back in 1963. Oh my God, that is so profound that it makes me sick in my stomach which compounds an already nauseated night.
Oh, Great Spirit, wait one second. I am only fifty three. Wait. I have to stop chatting about this subject for just a spell. Kindred, something was just stirred up right then. Yes.
How am I to tell He-Who-Touched-My-Brian, that there is a new painful lump growing at the site?
I don't know. I don't know. I don't damned know.
One of the newest members to my team, Dr. She-With-Many-Names, made a statement to me that was so full of understanding and empathy that her words reached and have rested in my heart. Her words bonded me immediately to her as my new Neurologist, and I knew then that an expert in her field, with such passion and compassion for her patients just had to be my doctor too. There has been issue with the pharmacy, insurance and my doctor's office that is preventing me from getting medication she has ordered. For one bitching time, I want a brand new pretty pill, AND now, the shit has to gotten all political and shit.
An Advocate and my Doctor She-With-Many-Name's, have both asked me, "How is it that other people tell me about my disease?". The very people I speak of are the people who do not know what this disease has done to me. All of these Kind Folks with so many different organizations in my life and their words and their judgements, most damned of all my family and what friends are left with their words and judgements. You see, my Kindred One's, this is the way My Path has been traveled since the Meniere's Disease changed every-fucking-thing in my life...
...when life happened in my life, when I went Gimpy and Deaf and Hard of Hearing, with a metal plate, a walker, two or three cane's and an implant too? Shit please, people's scattered like cock roaches in the garage when the light's get turned on. Oh-yeah, this is a reality in life and it affected every branch of my White, Brown, Red, and Black Ass Family Tree. Seen.
No, I have not been able to answer my dearest Dr. Wilson or My Advocate yet. I haven't found an answer or reply as of yet. I speculate I will soon.
I reckon. Ciao Bella's!
Thursday, April 18, 2013
The Sound's Of Meniere's Keeps Me Awake
Kindred,
In my widest dreams, I never thought that I would be wearing these shoes, these moccasins of mine walking this grand Path of mine. At the moment, I'm just trying to grab a few minutes of my day to day to reflect back on the things that have taken place. The week has been busy and even though we approach the weekend, I have one more doctor appointment come Saturday morning. Oh, no Sir., they're calling me in for an appointment. And, Honey Hush! I wasn't suppose to go to the clinic in town until June. Huh? Um, no, I don't know. I will soon.
These freaking sounds and noises are keeping me awake tonight, the time being 0114. Both ears are alive with loud and robust sounds of crickets and cicada's and the cicada's are like by the millions and these sons of bitch's are so loud that it occupies and preoccupies both faking ears. This includes an ear that is iced cold stone Deaf. I mean, like totally out of sound, but not really because I am listening to both ears at this instant. Earlier today I was listening to what sounded like a hoovering craft over the North East corner of the lodge. That's the way it sounded too. Kind of like, hooooooove and hoooovvvvvvvvvvvvve and like that. I figured as long as I'm inside my home, I am safe from these little lavender people from another planet. Out there in the North-40. Um, no, wait a second please, really, all jokes aside, this sound and noise thingy shit gets old very quick like. And Folks, please don't preach to me or any of my alters. We just don't have time for that. Few in my Circle have researched Meniere's. One can't see this disease because it is invisible. No one can see that I am Deaf . And Folk's forget. Doctor's forget. Sometimes Folks forget.
The bone exposed nakedness of what happens when one loses the ability to hear or listen, and listen like I used to. Folks, don't want to talk of the PTSD, or the MPD, the anorexia or the bulimia. Oh No Honey, folks don't even want to talk about the shit that's really happening now and today. Ma'am, some Folk's forget that life happens. Every-single-day of life, Life Happens.
The sweats have been absolutely disgusting and I perspire as I sit here, tip-tapping. I've averaged 2.33 t-shirts per day for the past three days. Including today. whoa, wait a second, this reminds me to report that my right ear has been passing fluid, is "popping", and aches constantly. Sometimes enough that I must massage my ear hole approaching my ear from the rear.
Had a visit with Dr. Wilson, on the sixteenth. I was the recipient of a huge and another round of injections. Not the Botox, but forms of nerve blocks. Dammit, these smart! There has been issue with my insurance company and the pharmacy and doctor getting this done right. I reckon. Today will be day three and my team can't get my meds authorized. Please, that's what insurance is for, enit?
Prayer's, please?
In my widest dreams, I never thought that I would be wearing these shoes, these moccasins of mine walking this grand Path of mine. At the moment, I'm just trying to grab a few minutes of my day to day to reflect back on the things that have taken place. The week has been busy and even though we approach the weekend, I have one more doctor appointment come Saturday morning. Oh, no Sir., they're calling me in for an appointment. And, Honey Hush! I wasn't suppose to go to the clinic in town until June. Huh? Um, no, I don't know. I will soon.
These freaking sounds and noises are keeping me awake tonight, the time being 0114. Both ears are alive with loud and robust sounds of crickets and cicada's and the cicada's are like by the millions and these sons of bitch's are so loud that it occupies and preoccupies both faking ears. This includes an ear that is iced cold stone Deaf. I mean, like totally out of sound, but not really because I am listening to both ears at this instant. Earlier today I was listening to what sounded like a hoovering craft over the North East corner of the lodge. That's the way it sounded too. Kind of like, hooooooove and hoooovvvvvvvvvvvvve and like that. I figured as long as I'm inside my home, I am safe from these little lavender people from another planet. Out there in the North-40. Um, no, wait a second please, really, all jokes aside, this sound and noise thingy shit gets old very quick like. And Folks, please don't preach to me or any of my alters. We just don't have time for that. Few in my Circle have researched Meniere's. One can't see this disease because it is invisible. No one can see that I am Deaf . And Folk's forget. Doctor's forget. Sometimes Folks forget.
The bone exposed nakedness of what happens when one loses the ability to hear or listen, and listen like I used to. Folks, don't want to talk of the PTSD, or the MPD, the anorexia or the bulimia. Oh No Honey, folks don't even want to talk about the shit that's really happening now and today. Ma'am, some Folk's forget that life happens. Every-single-day of life, Life Happens.
The sweats have been absolutely disgusting and I perspire as I sit here, tip-tapping. I've averaged 2.33 t-shirts per day for the past three days. Including today. whoa, wait a second, this reminds me to report that my right ear has been passing fluid, is "popping", and aches constantly. Sometimes enough that I must massage my ear hole approaching my ear from the rear.
Had a visit with Dr. Wilson, on the sixteenth. I was the recipient of a huge and another round of injections. Not the Botox, but forms of nerve blocks. Dammit, these smart! There has been issue with my insurance company and the pharmacy and doctor getting this done right. I reckon. Today will be day three and my team can't get my meds authorized. Please, that's what insurance is for, enit?
Prayer's, please?
Patient: Mario Asmyself Ismyself, Word Association
Word Association,
Patient: Mario Asmyself Ismyself
Date: 18 April 2013
Word Association, starting with the word, Bacon.
There will be no time limit applied, I shall go until the machine stops. I will be shooting from the lips and my hips, so please, don't be surprised or offended. Ha! I'll do my best to keep my lips. Right, and now, we're off!
Bacon, pork, pig, swine, farm, cow, bull, baby cows, milk, smoked Cheddar cheese, Wisconsin cheese utters or something like that smack me on the back side, forward motion to the West sun set and the gulf is near beer is good from Germany home for me once upon a time in a far and Arabian away place my daughter lives in Africa not really but in the area i read see words with glasses through cataracts that soon will be lazed out as my nephew from the country of Miami tells me that it will go like bizzzzzzzzzzzzzzz into my eye orb and shocked waves like the ocean brushes my nakedness and i am a nudist in a Izod world country is Botswana not Uganda my aunts name is Tia and - Time.
Well, let me do a quick spell check and I'll send out this communique.
Holla.
Yeah, you all, life happens and I've just to keep on keeping on. Like "keep on truckin', baby"! You see, the movement is in my blood, so I move with the motion of oceans. Oh shit, let me stop. Start another word association.
love, peace, and more peace, me
Patient: Mario Asmyself Ismyself
Date: 18 April 2013
Word Association, starting with the word, Bacon.
There will be no time limit applied, I shall go until the machine stops. I will be shooting from the lips and my hips, so please, don't be surprised or offended. Ha! I'll do my best to keep my lips. Right, and now, we're off!
Bacon, pork, pig, swine, farm, cow, bull, baby cows, milk, smoked Cheddar cheese, Wisconsin cheese utters or something like that smack me on the back side, forward motion to the West sun set and the gulf is near beer is good from Germany home for me once upon a time in a far and Arabian away place my daughter lives in Africa not really but in the area i read see words with glasses through cataracts that soon will be lazed out as my nephew from the country of Miami tells me that it will go like bizzzzzzzzzzzzzzz into my eye orb and shocked waves like the ocean brushes my nakedness and i am a nudist in a Izod world country is Botswana not Uganda my aunts name is Tia and - Time.
Well, let me do a quick spell check and I'll send out this communique.
Holla.
Yeah, you all, life happens and I've just to keep on keeping on. Like "keep on truckin', baby"! You see, the movement is in my blood, so I move with the motion of oceans. Oh shit, let me stop. Start another word association.
love, peace, and more peace, me
kenny
kenny,
kenny, oh, kenny,
what did you do to my innie, kenny?
you come into my home
and you visited my life.
you spoke of your girl friend
and you heard my wife.
like some kind of yester year dream
you came into my space, my inner space.
the space deep within, where I scream
silently, sir, out loud, no! this is my place!
i listened to your voice
the way you spoke awesome synergy
seemingly without choice
i permitted you to reach into me.
the stew of another life and time was stirred,
and stirred the sad and angry seas,
to the rolling boil, then iced and shocked back
to this reality, so yes, but, no thank you please.
kenny, oh, kenny?
what did you do to my belly, kenny?
kenny, oh, kenny,
what did you do to my innie, kenny?
you come into my home
and you visited my life.
you spoke of your girl friend
and you heard my wife.
like some kind of yester year dream
you came into my space, my inner space.
the space deep within, where I scream
silently, sir, out loud, no! this is my place!
i listened to your voice
the way you spoke awesome synergy
seemingly without choice
i permitted you to reach into me.
the stew of another life and time was stirred,
and stirred the sad and angry seas,
to the rolling boil, then iced and shocked back
to this reality, so yes, but, no thank you please.
kenny, oh, kenny?
what did you do to my belly, kenny?
Monday, April 15, 2013
God Bless Boston! God Bless America!
Folks way up North,
This is from me, down here down South.
I send My Path's, prayers and hopes that justice will soon be served!
It is my Inner Core's belief that this act of ignorant, petty cowardice act, has been committed by people's with light complexion. The perpetrator's are near by us all.
To the Family's of the Slain, my heart and Spirit's scream in sadness! And also scream for a quick means to justice. Justice for the loss of your Kinfolk and Kindred. I pray for the victims who have suffered loss of limb, hearing and sight. I pray for all who were subjected to the horror of watching our fellow Americans suffer, and I pray for Our Nation, placed into a High State of Alert, and I pray for justice, for all of America. Swift justice.
By Modern day standards, this was elementary. In comparison to the Jihadist, the Cuban Revolutionaries of the 1950's, and the IRA, this is really a petty act of Terrorism. Yes, God Damn it, MY!, Fellow Americans were set up to die! And some have! But really, in the grand scheme of things, this is so sad an attempt at terrorism.
Boston, is a symbolic place to have these bombs go off. In all places, historical Early American Boston. The timing of the explosions were off. The window for maximum loss of life had been lost.
Who ever and for what ever reason, the responsible political affiliate failed. Oh yes, too many fellow Americans have suffered, but these failures have lost the right to eat or breathe fresh air.
An immediate execution is due. Hang him right there on that corner where the first bomb exploded. Charge a fee and have Pay-Per-View.
God Bless Boston! God Bless America!
This is from me, down here down South.
I send My Path's, prayers and hopes that justice will soon be served!
It is my Inner Core's belief that this act of ignorant, petty cowardice act, has been committed by people's with light complexion. The perpetrator's are near by us all.
To the Family's of the Slain, my heart and Spirit's scream in sadness! And also scream for a quick means to justice. Justice for the loss of your Kinfolk and Kindred. I pray for the victims who have suffered loss of limb, hearing and sight. I pray for all who were subjected to the horror of watching our fellow Americans suffer, and I pray for Our Nation, placed into a High State of Alert, and I pray for justice, for all of America. Swift justice.
By Modern day standards, this was elementary. In comparison to the Jihadist, the Cuban Revolutionaries of the 1950's, and the IRA, this is really a petty act of Terrorism. Yes, God Damn it, MY!, Fellow Americans were set up to die! And some have! But really, in the grand scheme of things, this is so sad an attempt at terrorism.
Boston, is a symbolic place to have these bombs go off. In all places, historical Early American Boston. The timing of the explosions were off. The window for maximum loss of life had been lost.
Who ever and for what ever reason, the responsible political affiliate failed. Oh yes, too many fellow Americans have suffered, but these failures have lost the right to eat or breathe fresh air.
An immediate execution is due. Hang him right there on that corner where the first bomb exploded. Charge a fee and have Pay-Per-View.
God Bless Boston! God Bless America!
Emotional Manic Days of Mourning
Relation's,
I've been wanting to connect with Kinfolk and Kindred something awful today. These days of some people's dogma and the manic emotions I have lived with are the gumbo of ingredient's within my Spirit's and mind.
Yesterday, three of my four sister's and I, gathered our spouses and our children together. Just to be with one and another for a spell. That's all and also just because it felt right and it was a right good thing to do. It was as if the activity of our gathering was just that, a family in mourning gathering. There was no activity to be had or was it to be required, the gathering it self was the activity our Spirit's cried for. I witnessed it bring joy and happiness in beautifully profound ways to an other wise sad bunch of Kinfolk...
...to see and to listen with my one ear, the youngest of our youth enjoy the company of their Elders was spiritual and inspiring. I must confess that I am aware I was needing to be near love and the these Kinfolk I love so very much. For some reason's, my Abuela's passing has been quite tough on my Daddy Heart, but I am well. It is unfortunately difficult to observe and listen to my children and the children of others respond to our grandmother's passing the way they have. It was a blessing we four sibling's and our youthful one's were near and in special places. The places where loving energy sources are created and were recognizable to the naked eye. Together to honor our Grand Mother. No speeches, no fanciful prayers or mentions. We were together as family and for those of us who might still believe in "birds of a feather", as we were brought up believing in mind and heart that "a bird of a feather", is pretty much set for life when it comes to Kinfolk. To be one and a member of the same flock or the same Clan. To be a member of our multi-raced, Mix Blooded Family and the all that is still very much "in the blood". The thoughts of the sadness that has been in my Kinfolk Spirit's, hurt me in my physical heart so deeply and is so sad that it sings a sad, sad song because this is what sadness sings on the stereo in my head. I have observed too many deaths, have experienced very much death within my Circle's of Kinfolk and Kindred, way too many fucking funerals and have almost grown accustomed to observing how it is we are so similar, yet so different when it comes to death. And dieing. I have grown strained in my Spirit's, by what it is that is said and by what has not been said by some who have had irrational lapses in judgement. My Spirit's, also exhausted by the bitterness of listening to the bull shit that seems to be in a state of over abundance this Spring...
...there are times when I contemplate the reasoning behind the thought processes of people in general and I have oft enjoyed a memorable moment observing grown ass folk conducting themselves as the most ill home trained children in the village. I am not going to make any quotes and not even make any editorial correspondences, because this shit got too personal for too many of my Kinfolk. Sadly, all of this was some genuinely ill and sadly timed bull shit to have up and cut our young Kinfolk to the white meat. Like this? When this kind of shit gets out and the neighbours know and then you read it in "The Florida Sentinel", about that mixed blooded feller, 'cross the county who had done had enough with these people's ill being and conduct in the village...
...so he moved out to the mountain's to reach for the Moon and speak with the Bear's and count the stars. Some place over there, somewhere where the air is cooler and cleaner and the grass a little bit greener too. Go back to the country - back to simpler ways of living. Maybe a return to some of the ways of the Old Mountain Kinfolk, from Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, and North Carolina. This DNA runs through my veins. And yes, I have always been such a believer.
I am weary of being put down by self with the depression's that come and go with me and these fucking manic rides I am on that never seem to stop. God Knows, there has been alot going on with the all-the-around of me and this has been an over all, all over active place on My Path. This is where it is I have worked so hard and am dealing steadfastly as possible with these diseases that pester my body. I am on Alert to deal with these demons dwelling within. It is my purpose to be productive in my life and on My Path. When it comes to My Better State of Health, Mind, and Spirit's, my Team and I "Ride the Wave" as far as we can go. When there is a business plan in place - it's worked. If there was not any business forms in place. We made it happen. Big Prayer and Silent Prayers...
...and, MY DEAREST FOLKS, all of these paper application process's are all basically the same. The same information is exchanged time and time again. It is a massive process of paper application after and after paper application, which in my brain's must be in print and completed in Black Ink. Only. Which even though taxing, has set into motion an active period of growth. And then, my Guest's, I have the game changers in my battle's for my Better Health, Mind, Body, and Spirit's Team. I am so Blessed to have this Dream Team in place. Yes. Yet, as I have done in the past, I will make adjustments to my team when the Team deems this necessary. Now is the time called necessary. Kindred, Folks who are here to assist me, are here to help me into getting myself into a seriously different place on My Path. A whole new level. *Note: Oh yes, as a Team and speaking about business plan's, I will remember to connect with My Advocate, my Therapist, and My Counselor come business hours.
Great Spirit, humbled me and bathed me with good strong rains of a couple of days past. Today, more of God's Rain fell and I begin to feel that I have read this chapter in the book of life before. It is because some of my Kinfolk before me, that we had come from a common path. So, I keep my mouth shut, listen, watch, and learned. I reckon I learned well, you see. From the clouds I saw earlier today, and see I am able to read my palms tell me that some of this bull shit drama was not that well scripted. Honey! Maybe? Maybe some stuff was too prepared to have had "stuff" happen like stuff did. I mean? To have really truly talked shit over a dieing person's personal space is just totally inconceivable in my simple ways of living. Relations, dreadfully, the readings of all this got really bad and really sad. Spoken were words thought of and made talk over my Grand Mother's, Passing Spirit. Seen? It is my knowledge that every person walking into my Grand Mother's room was informed that she could hear everything. Thus, my Grand Mother had to listen to bull shit before she crossed over. All of this, is as if a foot note to a not so cute drama played out on some "Novella" on the Spanish speaking television station. Honey's, look, I may have been a fool's fool in my youth and I paid high taxes for some of those irresponsible and irrational decsions in my life. But, this fool here learned many lessons and the foolish games stopped many many years ago.
All of the above has been such a struggle. Of epic proportions even!
You see, I've gotten older, and as I've gotten older and lost the sound in my left ear and have had the decrease in hearing capability in my right, I learn that the all of this has made me, my, self, and I, more observant with some other senses and goings on. For example, my sense of smell has become so highly sensitized that I am able to smell bull shit ten miles away. I becha I can smell a grill four blocks West from here too. Me?
I've been wanting to connect with Kinfolk and Kindred something awful today. These days of some people's dogma and the manic emotions I have lived with are the gumbo of ingredient's within my Spirit's and mind.
Yesterday, three of my four sister's and I, gathered our spouses and our children together. Just to be with one and another for a spell. That's all and also just because it felt right and it was a right good thing to do. It was as if the activity of our gathering was just that, a family in mourning gathering. There was no activity to be had or was it to be required, the gathering it self was the activity our Spirit's cried for. I witnessed it bring joy and happiness in beautifully profound ways to an other wise sad bunch of Kinfolk...
...to see and to listen with my one ear, the youngest of our youth enjoy the company of their Elders was spiritual and inspiring. I must confess that I am aware I was needing to be near love and the these Kinfolk I love so very much. For some reason's, my Abuela's passing has been quite tough on my Daddy Heart, but I am well. It is unfortunately difficult to observe and listen to my children and the children of others respond to our grandmother's passing the way they have. It was a blessing we four sibling's and our youthful one's were near and in special places. The places where loving energy sources are created and were recognizable to the naked eye. Together to honor our Grand Mother. No speeches, no fanciful prayers or mentions. We were together as family and for those of us who might still believe in "birds of a feather", as we were brought up believing in mind and heart that "a bird of a feather", is pretty much set for life when it comes to Kinfolk. To be one and a member of the same flock or the same Clan. To be a member of our multi-raced, Mix Blooded Family and the all that is still very much "in the blood". The thoughts of the sadness that has been in my Kinfolk Spirit's, hurt me in my physical heart so deeply and is so sad that it sings a sad, sad song because this is what sadness sings on the stereo in my head. I have observed too many deaths, have experienced very much death within my Circle's of Kinfolk and Kindred, way too many fucking funerals and have almost grown accustomed to observing how it is we are so similar, yet so different when it comes to death. And dieing. I have grown strained in my Spirit's, by what it is that is said and by what has not been said by some who have had irrational lapses in judgement. My Spirit's, also exhausted by the bitterness of listening to the bull shit that seems to be in a state of over abundance this Spring...
...there are times when I contemplate the reasoning behind the thought processes of people in general and I have oft enjoyed a memorable moment observing grown ass folk conducting themselves as the most ill home trained children in the village. I am not going to make any quotes and not even make any editorial correspondences, because this shit got too personal for too many of my Kinfolk. Sadly, all of this was some genuinely ill and sadly timed bull shit to have up and cut our young Kinfolk to the white meat. Like this? When this kind of shit gets out and the neighbours know and then you read it in "The Florida Sentinel", about that mixed blooded feller, 'cross the county who had done had enough with these people's ill being and conduct in the village...
...so he moved out to the mountain's to reach for the Moon and speak with the Bear's and count the stars. Some place over there, somewhere where the air is cooler and cleaner and the grass a little bit greener too. Go back to the country - back to simpler ways of living. Maybe a return to some of the ways of the Old Mountain Kinfolk, from Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, and North Carolina. This DNA runs through my veins. And yes, I have always been such a believer.
I am weary of being put down by self with the depression's that come and go with me and these fucking manic rides I am on that never seem to stop. God Knows, there has been alot going on with the all-the-around of me and this has been an over all, all over active place on My Path. This is where it is I have worked so hard and am dealing steadfastly as possible with these diseases that pester my body. I am on Alert to deal with these demons dwelling within. It is my purpose to be productive in my life and on My Path. When it comes to My Better State of Health, Mind, and Spirit's, my Team and I "Ride the Wave" as far as we can go. When there is a business plan in place - it's worked. If there was not any business forms in place. We made it happen. Big Prayer and Silent Prayers...
...and, MY DEAREST FOLKS, all of these paper application process's are all basically the same. The same information is exchanged time and time again. It is a massive process of paper application after and after paper application, which in my brain's must be in print and completed in Black Ink. Only. Which even though taxing, has set into motion an active period of growth. And then, my Guest's, I have the game changers in my battle's for my Better Health, Mind, Body, and Spirit's Team. I am so Blessed to have this Dream Team in place. Yes. Yet, as I have done in the past, I will make adjustments to my team when the Team deems this necessary. Now is the time called necessary. Kindred, Folks who are here to assist me, are here to help me into getting myself into a seriously different place on My Path. A whole new level. *Note: Oh yes, as a Team and speaking about business plan's, I will remember to connect with My Advocate, my Therapist, and My Counselor come business hours.
Great Spirit, humbled me and bathed me with good strong rains of a couple of days past. Today, more of God's Rain fell and I begin to feel that I have read this chapter in the book of life before. It is because some of my Kinfolk before me, that we had come from a common path. So, I keep my mouth shut, listen, watch, and learned. I reckon I learned well, you see. From the clouds I saw earlier today, and see I am able to read my palms tell me that some of this bull shit drama was not that well scripted. Honey! Maybe? Maybe some stuff was too prepared to have had "stuff" happen like stuff did. I mean? To have really truly talked shit over a dieing person's personal space is just totally inconceivable in my simple ways of living. Relations, dreadfully, the readings of all this got really bad and really sad. Spoken were words thought of and made talk over my Grand Mother's, Passing Spirit. Seen? It is my knowledge that every person walking into my Grand Mother's room was informed that she could hear everything. Thus, my Grand Mother had to listen to bull shit before she crossed over. All of this, is as if a foot note to a not so cute drama played out on some "Novella" on the Spanish speaking television station. Honey's, look, I may have been a fool's fool in my youth and I paid high taxes for some of those irresponsible and irrational decsions in my life. But, this fool here learned many lessons and the foolish games stopped many many years ago.
All of the above has been such a struggle. Of epic proportions even!
You see, I've gotten older, and as I've gotten older and lost the sound in my left ear and have had the decrease in hearing capability in my right, I learn that the all of this has made me, my, self, and I, more observant with some other senses and goings on. For example, my sense of smell has become so highly sensitized that I am able to smell bull shit ten miles away. I becha I can smell a grill four blocks West from here too. Me?
Saturday, April 13, 2013
My Grand Mother Has Crossed Over, I Am In Mourning
Kind One's,
My grandmother has crossed over and her life forces have ceased. My grandmother's Spirit, is what we as Kinfolk and Kindred alike are to keep alive and keep the stories going on, so that we share her will to live and let live, to live hard, to work hard and then too, "once upon a time play hard".
My Abuela Mary will live on in Spirit Way's. Her lesson's are not yet complete. The Elders who remain know this. Because it is now very truly up to them to make sure the Life of My Grand Mother, is spoken of. Her Spirit's dwell within me and will for eternity. The adoration of such love that she gave so freely, is why we will pass stories that will continue along for generations. It is important and a good and right thing to share our Grand Mother's stories and talk of everything! The good and the not so good that comes with every family scenario and drama in life..
There is a song and an Artist, by the name Mr. Dean Martin, performing the song, "Everybody Love's Somebody Sometimes.", that I with all my love and memories, will play in dedication to my Abuela Mary.
Back, back in the day, when I was but a pup, Abuela and I would go down town to get me a hair cut, the barber would have Dino, Frankie, or Sammy on the radio all the time. That particular day, this song came on AND how did Abuela Mary, love this song, by this stunning and hot fellow, Dean Martin. If she had it in her power she would have hooked up with Mr. Martin, in a New York second! In New York!
We were once shopping at Kress down town for some Huskies denim for my large child ass and as we were stepping down into the departments in the basement, guess who began to sing? That's right, Mr. Martin, and because I began to learn the words by listening to his music and watching Dino in an action movie or T.V. show, he was always Mr. Martin. You see, he was so smart - so stunning! Almost as beautiful as my Grand Mother Mary.
There was also this one particular time when we went to have lunch at the counter at Grants. With this visit, (we would do this every once in a while) I noticed that the people's were separated and I did not know why. Where we sat, was all white and or like her and I, the pale skinned mixed blooded Folk's of the Latino Community. On the other side of the counter, the people's were all Black. I was confused and was about to ask probably the fourth question, when Mr. Martin came on over the stores over head stereo and I started singing with Dean, and my Abuela Mary was so smiling happy smiles - a couple of the big blossomed cooks in their pretty Waitress outfit's, joined right on in there. What an awesome experience and a what a life long memory..
Many years and life's changes later, I lived here in town with my Grand Mother for a spell. On special occasion's, Abuela Mary, would let me borrow her car to drive to and from work. For some reason, I seem to think this car only had AM radio, because all it ever played was AM stations and Abuela Mary, had this favorite channel. It played what was then called the "classics", so I left it where she had it, as I so enjoyed what she listened too anyways. It was the music that I was brought up listening to, you see and yes, I was provided the chance to listen to Dean, up to twice daily in that awesome ole car with my Granny's miles on it.
This song that very early in my life became a fabric and song that it is a track on the sound track of my life. It has always been that way. Since that first time Abuela and me heard it.
Understand, I am in mourning. I am knowing that my grand mother and I have experienced the ultimate separation. From birth in 1919, to live such a life life slipped into a peaceful sleep. In death, my grand mother is freed from the pains in her body and in her life. And in this life, my Grand Mother would teach forgiveness, love and respect. The teaching's of never giving up. The knowing that we didn't have time for the bull shit just touch my heart.
My Grand Mother, looked into my eyes and heard my voice. I spoke softly, because I know that even whispers during this stage of life can be so loud and so painful. We were provided private time with one and another. I laid my face next to her face and remembering sleeping over at my Abuela's house on Friday night's. I remembered laying next to her and watching her sleeping face , to my face, oh how beautiful my grand mother is. Her skin was so youthful, Folks I swear Folks out and about often thought I was her son, not her grandson. Her and I would always get a kick out of that. I know did. God, I know I did, because I would see the face of a proud and joyful person. A Grand Mother that loved her first grand son, as much as she loved her first son.
My Good Blessed God.
On our visit Thursday late afternoon, my grand mother and I were able to pray the prayers of the crucifix a few times. I sang Hallelujah, quietly near her left ear. I saw that my left ear is going to look like my Abuela's ear. So cool! I was able to speak with her about her Mom and Dad, my great-grand parents, Mimi and Abuelo Luis. I spoke with her about her son, Tikki. Her eye's opened briefly. I spoke of her cousins and her grand children there to greet her. And yes, we did speak about the huge party all will have when she gets there. My Lord, My Lord.
God Blessed me with a Grand Mother like mine for a purpose. As my Grand Mother Rests, I must continue to push ahead - to take care of my business. This is the way it would have been her wish. By God, I know I am Blessed...
...Thank You, Great Spirit! Thank You God! Thank You Abuela Mary!
I'll love you forever and eternity, Abuela, I always have, always will, your mario
I am in mourning.
My grandmother has crossed over and her life forces have ceased. My grandmother's Spirit, is what we as Kinfolk and Kindred alike are to keep alive and keep the stories going on, so that we share her will to live and let live, to live hard, to work hard and then too, "once upon a time play hard".
My Abuela Mary will live on in Spirit Way's. Her lesson's are not yet complete. The Elders who remain know this. Because it is now very truly up to them to make sure the Life of My Grand Mother, is spoken of. Her Spirit's dwell within me and will for eternity. The adoration of such love that she gave so freely, is why we will pass stories that will continue along for generations. It is important and a good and right thing to share our Grand Mother's stories and talk of everything! The good and the not so good that comes with every family scenario and drama in life..
There is a song and an Artist, by the name Mr. Dean Martin, performing the song, "Everybody Love's Somebody Sometimes.", that I with all my love and memories, will play in dedication to my Abuela Mary.
Back, back in the day, when I was but a pup, Abuela and I would go down town to get me a hair cut, the barber would have Dino, Frankie, or Sammy on the radio all the time. That particular day, this song came on AND how did Abuela Mary, love this song, by this stunning and hot fellow, Dean Martin. If she had it in her power she would have hooked up with Mr. Martin, in a New York second! In New York!
We were once shopping at Kress down town for some Huskies denim for my large child ass and as we were stepping down into the departments in the basement, guess who began to sing? That's right, Mr. Martin, and because I began to learn the words by listening to his music and watching Dino in an action movie or T.V. show, he was always Mr. Martin. You see, he was so smart - so stunning! Almost as beautiful as my Grand Mother Mary.
There was also this one particular time when we went to have lunch at the counter at Grants. With this visit, (we would do this every once in a while) I noticed that the people's were separated and I did not know why. Where we sat, was all white and or like her and I, the pale skinned mixed blooded Folk's of the Latino Community. On the other side of the counter, the people's were all Black. I was confused and was about to ask probably the fourth question, when Mr. Martin came on over the stores over head stereo and I started singing with Dean, and my Abuela Mary was so smiling happy smiles - a couple of the big blossomed cooks in their pretty Waitress outfit's, joined right on in there. What an awesome experience and a what a life long memory..
Many years and life's changes later, I lived here in town with my Grand Mother for a spell. On special occasion's, Abuela Mary, would let me borrow her car to drive to and from work. For some reason, I seem to think this car only had AM radio, because all it ever played was AM stations and Abuela Mary, had this favorite channel. It played what was then called the "classics", so I left it where she had it, as I so enjoyed what she listened too anyways. It was the music that I was brought up listening to, you see and yes, I was provided the chance to listen to Dean, up to twice daily in that awesome ole car with my Granny's miles on it.
This song that very early in my life became a fabric and song that it is a track on the sound track of my life. It has always been that way. Since that first time Abuela and me heard it.
Understand, I am in mourning. I am knowing that my grand mother and I have experienced the ultimate separation. From birth in 1919, to live such a life life slipped into a peaceful sleep. In death, my grand mother is freed from the pains in her body and in her life. And in this life, my Grand Mother would teach forgiveness, love and respect. The teaching's of never giving up. The knowing that we didn't have time for the bull shit just touch my heart.
My Grand Mother, looked into my eyes and heard my voice. I spoke softly, because I know that even whispers during this stage of life can be so loud and so painful. We were provided private time with one and another. I laid my face next to her face and remembering sleeping over at my Abuela's house on Friday night's. I remembered laying next to her and watching her sleeping face , to my face, oh how beautiful my grand mother is. Her skin was so youthful, Folks I swear Folks out and about often thought I was her son, not her grandson. Her and I would always get a kick out of that. I know did. God, I know I did, because I would see the face of a proud and joyful person. A Grand Mother that loved her first grand son, as much as she loved her first son.
My Good Blessed God.
On our visit Thursday late afternoon, my grand mother and I were able to pray the prayers of the crucifix a few times. I sang Hallelujah, quietly near her left ear. I saw that my left ear is going to look like my Abuela's ear. So cool! I was able to speak with her about her Mom and Dad, my great-grand parents, Mimi and Abuelo Luis. I spoke with her about her son, Tikki. Her eye's opened briefly. I spoke of her cousins and her grand children there to greet her. And yes, we did speak about the huge party all will have when she gets there. My Lord, My Lord.
God Blessed me with a Grand Mother like mine for a purpose. As my Grand Mother Rests, I must continue to push ahead - to take care of my business. This is the way it would have been her wish. By God, I know I am Blessed...
...Thank You, Great Spirit! Thank You God! Thank You Abuela Mary!
I'll love you forever and eternity, Abuela, I always have, always will, your mario
I am in mourning.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
A Real Life Shero, My Grand Mother
Kind One's,
My grandmother has been placed in Hospice Care. I am informed by my children who have read this information on the Internet. My daughter who lives in the Middle East and my youngest at work have called me to share news about our grandmother's health and condition.
I listen closely as the sounds of mourning approach and comes nearer. I prepare my senses and Spirit's for my Grand Mother's passing. My heart is heavy and I can feel my lungs labor to breath. The very life force within my body mourns.
I have been in a state of mourning since the last my grandmother and I looked into one and each of our eye's and I listened to her words and I felt her love and warmth and we embrace our Spirit's and that chubby 13 year old that was so crazy in love with his Abuela Mary. Oh, My God, I have never ever doubted that I was Blessed by You, Great One, to have her as my grandmother. She was right there in the delivery room of the old Spanish Clinic in Ybor City, Florida and my Abuela Mary, just happened to be my mid-wife, right there playing catcher for what was then a modern day miracle. I, this weird cute looking mixed breed kid was born on the seventeenth day of yester decade. Damn. That makes me sound so damned old, en'it? For shits sake, I was sharing earlier today with my Lil' Short Blue Bus Driver that I am too young for the bull shit in life.
No, really. Life is so too short to have such petty drama be an influence in life. Fuck.
This modern day form of communicating by a social network, such as the facebook to communicate the anticipated crossing over of one's Kinfolk, is just is not fitting quite right like inside my skull or within these Spirit's dwelling within this skin. My warm thumping heart and energy does not wrap around this concept of not a one individual calling me to share this news of my grandmother with me and into my ear hole - person to person. Like people do. You all have made your calls and did not make calls. Then, now no need for calls.
The mourning and bitter sadness that I have carried over a period of time has had an effect on me that has actually aided my heart, thoughts and memories of who my Grand Mother was and has always been to me.
Knowing that I had the World's Classiest Woman, as a Grand Mother, is a gift from God. My Grandmother was always the hard working professional and most dedicated Nurse. Her work ethic was above reproach. Observing my Abuela Mary in action prepared me for where it was I was to direct myself and my life's path. To walk and work with a purpose. Loyalty. And to live knowing "life's too short to worry about bull shit".
My Abuela's, dedication to life as a Mother, a Grand Mother, Daughter, Cousin or Aunt, taught many generations of Women Kinfolk. Her manner's and respect with a stranger, her thousands and thousands of patients - as a friend and neighbour, she created a Real Live Shero.
My Real Life Shero, my one and only grandmother Mary, prepares to join Jesus, her parents, her son - my dad, Mother Mary, The Saint's and all of her Kinfolk and Kindred in Heaven. Goodness Gracious Great Balls On Fire! There's going to be a massive block party on those Golden Street's of God's Crib!
My Dearest Abuela, I feel you in my Center. You will always be here with me. I know this. Within the next few minutes I will have ceremony and have prayers with you. I love you. I love you. Rest now Abuela, please, now it is time for you to rest. Blessed By God.
My grandmother has been placed in Hospice Care. I am informed by my children who have read this information on the Internet. My daughter who lives in the Middle East and my youngest at work have called me to share news about our grandmother's health and condition.
I listen closely as the sounds of mourning approach and comes nearer. I prepare my senses and Spirit's for my Grand Mother's passing. My heart is heavy and I can feel my lungs labor to breath. The very life force within my body mourns.
I have been in a state of mourning since the last my grandmother and I looked into one and each of our eye's and I listened to her words and I felt her love and warmth and we embrace our Spirit's and that chubby 13 year old that was so crazy in love with his Abuela Mary. Oh, My God, I have never ever doubted that I was Blessed by You, Great One, to have her as my grandmother. She was right there in the delivery room of the old Spanish Clinic in Ybor City, Florida and my Abuela Mary, just happened to be my mid-wife, right there playing catcher for what was then a modern day miracle. I, this weird cute looking mixed breed kid was born on the seventeenth day of yester decade. Damn. That makes me sound so damned old, en'it? For shits sake, I was sharing earlier today with my Lil' Short Blue Bus Driver that I am too young for the bull shit in life.
No, really. Life is so too short to have such petty drama be an influence in life. Fuck.
This modern day form of communicating by a social network, such as the facebook to communicate the anticipated crossing over of one's Kinfolk, is just is not fitting quite right like inside my skull or within these Spirit's dwelling within this skin. My warm thumping heart and energy does not wrap around this concept of not a one individual calling me to share this news of my grandmother with me and into my ear hole - person to person. Like people do. You all have made your calls and did not make calls. Then, now no need for calls.
The mourning and bitter sadness that I have carried over a period of time has had an effect on me that has actually aided my heart, thoughts and memories of who my Grand Mother was and has always been to me.
Knowing that I had the World's Classiest Woman, as a Grand Mother, is a gift from God. My Grandmother was always the hard working professional and most dedicated Nurse. Her work ethic was above reproach. Observing my Abuela Mary in action prepared me for where it was I was to direct myself and my life's path. To walk and work with a purpose. Loyalty. And to live knowing "life's too short to worry about bull shit".
My Abuela's, dedication to life as a Mother, a Grand Mother, Daughter, Cousin or Aunt, taught many generations of Women Kinfolk. Her manner's and respect with a stranger, her thousands and thousands of patients - as a friend and neighbour, she created a Real Live Shero.
My Real Life Shero, my one and only grandmother Mary, prepares to join Jesus, her parents, her son - my dad, Mother Mary, The Saint's and all of her Kinfolk and Kindred in Heaven. Goodness Gracious Great Balls On Fire! There's going to be a massive block party on those Golden Street's of God's Crib!
My Dearest Abuela, I feel you in my Center. You will always be here with me. I know this. Within the next few minutes I will have ceremony and have prayers with you. I love you. I love you. Rest now Abuela, please, now it is time for you to rest. Blessed By God.
What's On My Bed-Side Table, Your Silence and My Deafness
Kindred One;s,
Something I have not shared in a while and has always been a favorite way of connecting for me has been with talking about what is the latest on my bed-side table.
I'll begin with the literary and share that for the second time I have read a booklet first published in 1978, titled, "Practical Suggestions For Persons With A Hearing Impairment", written by Loren J. Bartels, M.D., while an Assistant Professor of Surgery, an Assistant Professor of Neurology Division of Otolaryngology, at the University of South Florida Medical Center, Audio-Vestibular Center. An interesting, educational and a nostalgic read. I suspect that some of the product and subject matter discussed in this booklet are no longer manufactured or spoken. In spite of an occasional step-out-of-time, this information is just as up in the face current as one might take at first note of going out of sound in this age and time. Very interesting indeed.
A second book recently completed is, "When The Legends Die?, written by Hal Borland. This book is a Five Star Read and what a true gut wrenching, life inspiring story! Mr. Borland, spoke to me through his words and I read this and experienced it as if one and or another read the story to me. With this publication there is no doubt that this was just about as close to one of those "can't put it down" books, I have read in a mighty long spell. What an emotional, Indian Story.
I will soon complete yet another reading of The Constitution of the United States of America, along with the Declaration of Independence, which was written by them who came before my Grand Father's, Grand Father's. Please, don't ask. I am not certain why it is I have this motivation to read and re-read these documents of historical nature....
...I bend my knee in a state of humbleness to say that there is some thing's just not quite white about these utterances, written down a couple of hundred years ago. I mean, really, if it has been a while since you never read The Constitution and Declaration of Independence, maybe it might could be a mighty fine time for some of you bible thumping, Two Faces who scream so loud so much more about "your" Rights. Oh, too busy and not concerned and not thinking about Rights's, is not using our rights's. Folk's not knowing our Rights's confuses my heart beats. It saddens me to see so many Kinfolk and Kindred carry on like a band of roaming apes, to vote on who the alpha is. !*POP*! - it makes me wonder how many of us citizens have never read these documents. I have enjoyed reading the Bible, more than one time even! I mean, like not even one never-ever-never look at the words of this country's history? I make a smile, yet my heart is bad from these ridiculous debating and political propaganda's on even my social fucking escapes. For Fucking Shit Sakes Folk's.!
I continue to read The New International Webster's Standard Dictionary, School and Office Edition. Kinfolk, I get a silly joy out of finding silly little errors with in these dictionaries. This one is my second dictionary. I read my first, two or so years removed. Still have it and still use it too. Yeah, I know. Don't ask why is it that I am utilizing two dictionaries at the same time when one would suffice. Well, this is because I have not read this other dictionary yet. Can you dig?
In Honor of Holocaust Remembrance Day and in Honor of Holocaust Remembrance Week, I have introduced myself to an author named Daniel Jonah Goldhagen. The title of this thick hard cover is "Hitler's Willing Executioners, Ordinary Germans And The Holocaust". I must admit that I am not knowing how to approach this publication as of yet, I am just a few pages in and I can feel the changes in my tummy and the rate of my respiration's have increased and what this author I am hoping will do, with the respect for all and every one involved in this War is to shed a light on the history of the conduct of German citizens, who did turn their backs on their very own neighbour. To murder your neighbour because One is a Jew, or because I am One who wears the Pink Triangle. My Dear God, Six Million Jews. Exterminated. In many cases, their own Kinfolk, would sabotage one and an other's True Blood Family. I have studied WWII history since late elementary school and have never turned back. As a Boy, what ever book I could borrow and or get my hands on from the library in school or the one in West Tampa or the one down town, I would walk the streets of West Tampa Junior High School - (The Home of the Greyhounds!) - to get my next book fix and owned my childhood home down there near Habana - not too far from the bakery there on Cypress.
I have here on my bedside table my journal for writing left handed. One high yellow highlighter marker, a couple of pens - one ball point the other gel. There's a couple or three Post Cards, my native stationary, a glass jar that has been cracked still with many quartz crystals, gems, stones and rocks enclosed. I am afraid the jar would be saddened should I place it into the recycle bin. The Family Martin, gifted me a hand full of some sweet and awesome gems. These lay here on my bedside table next to where it is I rest my big gimp bobble head. Tranquility?
On my bedside table, I have a fantastic "Woody", Action Figure, from the Motion Picture, "Toy Story". I love him to Deaf and have him standing near by my "Buzz Lightyear", Action Figure. My Cowboy Smurf, still lives with me. Right there with the faux wooden box my sister Ana Beth gifted me. A neat little private box for my little odds-n-ends. Yeah? Sits right there. I place my charging cellular telephone here on my bed-side table too.
There's a photo in colour of my Great Grand Mother Mimi, my Dearest Abuela, my Grand Mother with the Gathering of Many Grand Children. The photograph, sitting right there next to my picture cards of Jesus, the one's with the prayers printed on reverse of art work. My Heart.
Other than one call from one sister who lives in Georgia, a week or two removed and my Dearest Honorable Daughter, who lives near Africa, calling me to ask if I had heard that my Abuela had had a heart attack. Well, hell no, I had not received a call informing such from no one. None
Again..
I am ashamed and embarrassed by the conduct of Elders who I think are operating on many different levels of not knowing the reason's why they say and do as they live. Yes, roll with it. It is confusing, yes. But in this case, I see perfectly well without my new prescription glasses. Same thing is to see I still have certain Elders who speak like this and do like that. Almost as silly adolescents and perpetuate ill and sad energies.
Not a single elder called to have a talk with me or my bride. This is so true that it cuts to my lungs meat...
Your silence and my Deafness is a clear indication of this and thus, I have been journaled...
A. Some assume. Honey, I know this. I do.
B. Some Kin like playing emotional blabber mouth game.
C. See which One or the other win's the greatest ape chest bump. Alpha Man? Alpha Woman?
D. You never did call me to share any passing's of my Kinfolk. No. No one did.
E. What makes this so sad is that this is a snap shot of my life. Snap and just like that.
F. Let me put this like this then, I am at the point where I have done gone on and begin what had to happen. Direct myself, engage myself and protect I and I from the environments of some.
G. A beginning of the beginning to feel the separation and grow with it.
H. In the past it would have been my nature to hurry up and call and talk and listen and I'm here stuck in my house. But, I am different now. NO MORE FAKE GOD-FATHER/MOTHER!
I. Wouldn't it be so nice to gather with Kinfolk, drink cafe con leche and have that opportunity to visit my Ninety-Four Year Old Abuela Mary. I would absolutely love this! But, the energy?
J. And like really, there is in fact a few of some who have this "all wrong"!
K. It's In The Blood.
L. I am okay with this shit for now. Really.
Your silence and my Deafness is a clear indication of this and now have been sent out via communique.
Life is so short...
Something I have not shared in a while and has always been a favorite way of connecting for me has been with talking about what is the latest on my bed-side table.
I'll begin with the literary and share that for the second time I have read a booklet first published in 1978, titled, "Practical Suggestions For Persons With A Hearing Impairment", written by Loren J. Bartels, M.D., while an Assistant Professor of Surgery, an Assistant Professor of Neurology Division of Otolaryngology, at the University of South Florida Medical Center, Audio-Vestibular Center. An interesting, educational and a nostalgic read. I suspect that some of the product and subject matter discussed in this booklet are no longer manufactured or spoken. In spite of an occasional step-out-of-time, this information is just as up in the face current as one might take at first note of going out of sound in this age and time. Very interesting indeed.
A second book recently completed is, "When The Legends Die?, written by Hal Borland. This book is a Five Star Read and what a true gut wrenching, life inspiring story! Mr. Borland, spoke to me through his words and I read this and experienced it as if one and or another read the story to me. With this publication there is no doubt that this was just about as close to one of those "can't put it down" books, I have read in a mighty long spell. What an emotional, Indian Story.
I will soon complete yet another reading of The Constitution of the United States of America, along with the Declaration of Independence, which was written by them who came before my Grand Father's, Grand Father's. Please, don't ask. I am not certain why it is I have this motivation to read and re-read these documents of historical nature....
...I bend my knee in a state of humbleness to say that there is some thing's just not quite white about these utterances, written down a couple of hundred years ago. I mean, really, if it has been a while since you never read The Constitution and Declaration of Independence, maybe it might could be a mighty fine time for some of you bible thumping, Two Faces who scream so loud so much more about "your" Rights. Oh, too busy and not concerned and not thinking about Rights's, is not using our rights's. Folk's not knowing our Rights's confuses my heart beats. It saddens me to see so many Kinfolk and Kindred carry on like a band of roaming apes, to vote on who the alpha is. !*POP*! - it makes me wonder how many of us citizens have never read these documents. I have enjoyed reading the Bible, more than one time even! I mean, like not even one never-ever-never look at the words of this country's history? I make a smile, yet my heart is bad from these ridiculous debating and political propaganda's on even my social fucking escapes. For Fucking Shit Sakes Folk's.!
I continue to read The New International Webster's Standard Dictionary, School and Office Edition. Kinfolk, I get a silly joy out of finding silly little errors with in these dictionaries. This one is my second dictionary. I read my first, two or so years removed. Still have it and still use it too. Yeah, I know. Don't ask why is it that I am utilizing two dictionaries at the same time when one would suffice. Well, this is because I have not read this other dictionary yet. Can you dig?
In Honor of Holocaust Remembrance Day and in Honor of Holocaust Remembrance Week, I have introduced myself to an author named Daniel Jonah Goldhagen. The title of this thick hard cover is "Hitler's Willing Executioners, Ordinary Germans And The Holocaust". I must admit that I am not knowing how to approach this publication as of yet, I am just a few pages in and I can feel the changes in my tummy and the rate of my respiration's have increased and what this author I am hoping will do, with the respect for all and every one involved in this War is to shed a light on the history of the conduct of German citizens, who did turn their backs on their very own neighbour. To murder your neighbour because One is a Jew, or because I am One who wears the Pink Triangle. My Dear God, Six Million Jews. Exterminated. In many cases, their own Kinfolk, would sabotage one and an other's True Blood Family. I have studied WWII history since late elementary school and have never turned back. As a Boy, what ever book I could borrow and or get my hands on from the library in school or the one in West Tampa or the one down town, I would walk the streets of West Tampa Junior High School - (The Home of the Greyhounds!) - to get my next book fix and owned my childhood home down there near Habana - not too far from the bakery there on Cypress.
I have here on my bedside table my journal for writing left handed. One high yellow highlighter marker, a couple of pens - one ball point the other gel. There's a couple or three Post Cards, my native stationary, a glass jar that has been cracked still with many quartz crystals, gems, stones and rocks enclosed. I am afraid the jar would be saddened should I place it into the recycle bin. The Family Martin, gifted me a hand full of some sweet and awesome gems. These lay here on my bedside table next to where it is I rest my big gimp bobble head. Tranquility?
On my bedside table, I have a fantastic "Woody", Action Figure, from the Motion Picture, "Toy Story". I love him to Deaf and have him standing near by my "Buzz Lightyear", Action Figure. My Cowboy Smurf, still lives with me. Right there with the faux wooden box my sister Ana Beth gifted me. A neat little private box for my little odds-n-ends. Yeah? Sits right there. I place my charging cellular telephone here on my bed-side table too.
There's a photo in colour of my Great Grand Mother Mimi, my Dearest Abuela, my Grand Mother with the Gathering of Many Grand Children. The photograph, sitting right there next to my picture cards of Jesus, the one's with the prayers printed on reverse of art work. My Heart.
Other than one call from one sister who lives in Georgia, a week or two removed and my Dearest Honorable Daughter, who lives near Africa, calling me to ask if I had heard that my Abuela had had a heart attack. Well, hell no, I had not received a call informing such from no one. None
Again..
I am ashamed and embarrassed by the conduct of Elders who I think are operating on many different levels of not knowing the reason's why they say and do as they live. Yes, roll with it. It is confusing, yes. But in this case, I see perfectly well without my new prescription glasses. Same thing is to see I still have certain Elders who speak like this and do like that. Almost as silly adolescents and perpetuate ill and sad energies.
Not a single elder called to have a talk with me or my bride. This is so true that it cuts to my lungs meat...
Your silence and my Deafness is a clear indication of this and thus, I have been journaled...
A. Some assume. Honey, I know this. I do.
B. Some Kin like playing emotional blabber mouth game.
C. See which One or the other win's the greatest ape chest bump. Alpha Man? Alpha Woman?
D. You never did call me to share any passing's of my Kinfolk. No. No one did.
E. What makes this so sad is that this is a snap shot of my life. Snap and just like that.
F. Let me put this like this then, I am at the point where I have done gone on and begin what had to happen. Direct myself, engage myself and protect I and I from the environments of some.
G. A beginning of the beginning to feel the separation and grow with it.
H. In the past it would have been my nature to hurry up and call and talk and listen and I'm here stuck in my house. But, I am different now. NO MORE FAKE GOD-FATHER/MOTHER!
I. Wouldn't it be so nice to gather with Kinfolk, drink cafe con leche and have that opportunity to visit my Ninety-Four Year Old Abuela Mary. I would absolutely love this! But, the energy?
J. And like really, there is in fact a few of some who have this "all wrong"!
K. It's In The Blood.
L. I am okay with this shit for now. Really.
Your silence and my Deafness is a clear indication of this and now have been sent out via communique.
Life is so short...
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
It is Share And Tell It Time! Live from Sunny Florida
Relation's,
It has been a minute since my last Share and Tell It, so please, sit back and give it a look and read. This is an invite to an uncensored open hearted communique! Shot not so too straight from the hip's! Pardon the potty mouth if the shit hits the fan once or twice or thrice and without further delay, I'm off!
1. The Clinic that I am a patient of is the Tampa Bay Hearing & Balance Center.
2. My Doctor, He-Who-Touched-My-Brain's real name is Dr. Christopher J. Danner.
3. There is an Elder Physician In Practice here. I respect his very presence. Both World Renown.
4. The practice/clinic occupies an entire floor of a Medical Tower @ Tampa General Hospital..
5. I love each and every Team Mate here at Tampa Bay Hearing & Balance Center.
6. I have placed my life in my Right Good Doctors hand's many time's. I trust him.
7. This is the Only Man on Earth Mother who as ever touched my brain. I love my doctor.
8. My doctor, his awesome staff of Audiologists, his assistants - my BGF's 'Vonnn and Mattiologist, ROCK-The-Free-World! I must holla @ Annnnnnna! Too cool she is, yes. I am endeared by Le Fem Duo Rouge at the front desk and have had a school boy crush on Miss. Q., from day one. No lie. My eye orbs did boing-oing like Bugs Bunny does when he sees "any" rabbit in a dress.
9. Oh yes, speaking of Bugs Bunny, my brother was a cross dresser. Eh?
10. I am listening to Gato Barbieri's, Europa (Earth's Cry, Heaven's Smile). O, my heart.
11. From the album "Calienti", which was a huge international hit back in the late 1970's.
12. I am positive that I drove my room mate in the Army mad by this album! Ha! Jimmy?
13. For Pete's Sake, it's still selling! I just recently purchased it from the iTunes. Again.
14. I listen to Gato with one ear. My Left Deaf remembers the days. I know she does.
15. I have had the introduction to my life, of a non-profit organization named Self-Reliance.
16. My Advocate, with Self-Reliance and I meet in the morrow. I am so excited I can pee-pee and more than happy to include my main transport and ride, My Little Short Blue Bus. I share though, that I become anxious when my tickets begin to run low. Like, OMG, I am stressing kind of anxiety. Oh yeah, I tell you it's true. And these are never used for pleasure - it's all about the business. My Better Health, Mind, Body and Spirit Team and I.
17. My Advocate, is an extraordinary gentleman and one I have entrusted. I am once again letting myself 'open up' to another and pray that this crossing of path's will travel in the direction that I am positive we both want as out comes to our Business Plan's.
18. To have an advocate on my side has been rare and new in my life. I am still awe-inspired and am comfortable knowing that My Advocate is a member of my Team. He has me in mind.
19. And an Allie here on My Path.
20. Chanel's, PRECISION AGE DELAY, Emulsion Prolonggateur Jeunesse, is a favorite product!
21. CLINIQUE, is fantastique!
22. I have worn YVES SAINT LAURENT since adolescents.
23. And was introduced to ECHT KOLNISCH WASSER 4711, while stationed in Germany.
24. My Daughter who lives in a land far and further away informed me that my grand mother has had a heart attack recently. Apparently, this occurred days ago - providing enough time for an admission and eventual discharge. My Daughter lives on the most North Eastern parts of Africa - across and into the Middle East, on the other side of Earth Mother. WTMFITMFS?
25.
I do not think that I sent out a Share and Tell It Time, last month. Maybe I'll send out another later on this month. Maybe.
Note: The number 25, Is left bare with intention. My silence is best at this moment.
I have no more to say.
It has been a minute since my last Share and Tell It, so please, sit back and give it a look and read. This is an invite to an uncensored open hearted communique! Shot not so too straight from the hip's! Pardon the potty mouth if the shit hits the fan once or twice or thrice and without further delay, I'm off!
1. The Clinic that I am a patient of is the Tampa Bay Hearing & Balance Center.
2. My Doctor, He-Who-Touched-My-Brain's real name is Dr. Christopher J. Danner.
3. There is an Elder Physician In Practice here. I respect his very presence. Both World Renown.
4. The practice/clinic occupies an entire floor of a Medical Tower @ Tampa General Hospital..
5. I love each and every Team Mate here at Tampa Bay Hearing & Balance Center.
6. I have placed my life in my Right Good Doctors hand's many time's. I trust him.
7. This is the Only Man on Earth Mother who as ever touched my brain. I love my doctor.
8. My doctor, his awesome staff of Audiologists, his assistants - my BGF's 'Vonnn and Mattiologist, ROCK-The-Free-World! I must holla @ Annnnnnna! Too cool she is, yes. I am endeared by Le Fem Duo Rouge at the front desk and have had a school boy crush on Miss. Q., from day one. No lie. My eye orbs did boing-oing like Bugs Bunny does when he sees "any" rabbit in a dress.
9. Oh yes, speaking of Bugs Bunny, my brother was a cross dresser. Eh?
10. I am listening to Gato Barbieri's, Europa (Earth's Cry, Heaven's Smile). O, my heart.
11. From the album "Calienti", which was a huge international hit back in the late 1970's.
12. I am positive that I drove my room mate in the Army mad by this album! Ha! Jimmy?
13. For Pete's Sake, it's still selling! I just recently purchased it from the iTunes. Again.
14. I listen to Gato with one ear. My Left Deaf remembers the days. I know she does.
15. I have had the introduction to my life, of a non-profit organization named Self-Reliance.
16. My Advocate, with Self-Reliance and I meet in the morrow. I am so excited I can pee-pee and more than happy to include my main transport and ride, My Little Short Blue Bus. I share though, that I become anxious when my tickets begin to run low. Like, OMG, I am stressing kind of anxiety. Oh yeah, I tell you it's true. And these are never used for pleasure - it's all about the business. My Better Health, Mind, Body and Spirit Team and I.
17. My Advocate, is an extraordinary gentleman and one I have entrusted. I am once again letting myself 'open up' to another and pray that this crossing of path's will travel in the direction that I am positive we both want as out comes to our Business Plan's.
18. To have an advocate on my side has been rare and new in my life. I am still awe-inspired and am comfortable knowing that My Advocate is a member of my Team. He has me in mind.
19. And an Allie here on My Path.
20. Chanel's, PRECISION AGE DELAY, Emulsion Prolonggateur Jeunesse, is a favorite product!
21. CLINIQUE, is fantastique!
22. I have worn YVES SAINT LAURENT since adolescents.
23. And was introduced to ECHT KOLNISCH WASSER 4711, while stationed in Germany.
24. My Daughter who lives in a land far and further away informed me that my grand mother has had a heart attack recently. Apparently, this occurred days ago - providing enough time for an admission and eventual discharge. My Daughter lives on the most North Eastern parts of Africa - across and into the Middle East, on the other side of Earth Mother. WTMFITMFS?
25.
I do not think that I sent out a Share and Tell It Time, last month. Maybe I'll send out another later on this month. Maybe.
Note: The number 25, Is left bare with intention. My silence is best at this moment.
I have no more to say.
Right-Good Folk and Daughter's
Relation's,
I had the pleasure of sitting with some Right-Good Folk today. Blessed I am. Yes.
Was provided the opportunity to meet a sweet brand-new dear friend. An infant so tiny, I reckon she didn't way much more than a sack of rice. She who was brought forth by the Grace of God. I was also provided the opportunity to meet her Dad, He-From-The-Mountain's. It is my pleasure to have met both...
...and Mommy Bear, knows that I love her as if we bleed same blood. An Honor.
Blessed, is an awesome state of being. Gift's from God, are Blessing's. Seen.
Am sitting here tip-tapping while on the Skype chatting wit my eldest childling. (Yes, I did) She who lives in land far and far away, as in 7,810 miles, far and further away from here. In my brains, it does not make sense how it is we are separated by these bazillion of kilometers and conduct a conversation and I listen to her voice as if she sits right here next to me. As a matter of fact, just minutes ago I stepped into the kitchen and listened to her being silly and carrying on and what not, and I do swear to my heart that it sounded as if she was in the room waiting for me...
...blessed is a Daddy's Heart. And this Daddy's Heart sitting right here is so very blessed to have two daughter's as wonderful, as strong and as beautiful as the two Great Spirit Graced us with.
I'm not worthy.
Yet, Great Spirit, Blessed my dearest Bride and I, a simple man, with two of the most absolutely amazing daughter's, on all of Earth Mother.
I had the pleasure of sitting with some Right-Good Folk today. Blessed I am. Yes.
Was provided the opportunity to meet a sweet brand-new dear friend. An infant so tiny, I reckon she didn't way much more than a sack of rice. She who was brought forth by the Grace of God. I was also provided the opportunity to meet her Dad, He-From-The-Mountain's. It is my pleasure to have met both...
...and Mommy Bear, knows that I love her as if we bleed same blood. An Honor.
Blessed, is an awesome state of being. Gift's from God, are Blessing's. Seen.
Am sitting here tip-tapping while on the Skype chatting wit my eldest childling. (Yes, I did) She who lives in land far and far away, as in 7,810 miles, far and further away from here. In my brains, it does not make sense how it is we are separated by these bazillion of kilometers and conduct a conversation and I listen to her voice as if she sits right here next to me. As a matter of fact, just minutes ago I stepped into the kitchen and listened to her being silly and carrying on and what not, and I do swear to my heart that it sounded as if she was in the room waiting for me...
...blessed is a Daddy's Heart. And this Daddy's Heart sitting right here is so very blessed to have two daughter's as wonderful, as strong and as beautiful as the two Great Spirit Graced us with.
I'm not worthy.
Yet, Great Spirit, Blessed my dearest Bride and I, a simple man, with two of the most absolutely amazing daughter's, on all of Earth Mother.
Monday, April 8, 2013
I Believe, A Communique 08 April 2013
Dearest Relation's,
I wish peace.
Before I go much further, I ask that you please accept my mea culpa. I apologize sincerely for my lack of penmanship. Yes, perhaps I could chalk it up to the sleep that has continued now for what amounts to two plus weeks. But I won't. No, not this is not the twenty hours per day of recent, but I am still held within the grips of the slumber. I stopped counting since the last I sent out a communique. Please, my Relations, know I am truly contrite and have a plan to get back into a swing of things in Life, on My Path, and sharing my utterances about this ridiculously mad, silent disease, Meniere's.
As of this moment, 1934, on this date, 08 April, 2013, I am gagging and burping from the nausea caught in my lower throat. I burp with a purpose and still hope that this helps me with the nausea. This is happening right now right here where I have this slight dip between my two shoulder blades. It's like smack dab in front of my lower throat, is where this originates actually. The best I can describe this is to compare it to back when I was Anorexic and Bulimic. You see, sometimes there is a delay of two or three gags before the vomit would expel from my stomach and exit the portal from whence it came. Those days are remembered each and every fucking time I have the nausea and especially the gagging attacks. For shits sake, I'm going to have a stroke behind this heaving and gagging and dry throw up. Maybe just my saliva, with it's hyper-productivity spilling from my lips will please the vomit spirit's. My lip's.
My Deaf Left Ear, is roaring like a giant water fall that I am standing simple yards from. I swear to my own heart that I have NEVER been able to find and read and or get an adequate exclamation of this absurd chaos that goes on between these three ears of mine. I count my BAHA as my third ear. I mean, when I bathe every day, it needs to be washed just like my other two ears. Huh? I can hear two ears being washed only, my right good-bad-ear-hole-to-the-brains and my implant. My Dear Deaf Left, is as out of sound as a door knob. Don't ask...
...yet, today, I listen to and hear voice's, sound's of the swamps of The National Everglades Park at dusk and from Tarzan's Jungle. The sounds of giant six foot tall cicadas are driving me goof-fuckin'-ball-mad this afternoon. My right hear is listening to Jana Kramer, singing "Whiskey". She's singing just to me and my one-ear-hole-to-the-brain. I have been listening to some far off in the distance beeps and almost a funnels like sound distortion weaving these beeps near and far from my hearing. Crazy! Crazy?
My Right Ear has been popping plenty. So very distracting and sometimes so loud, and happening often enough that I will discuss this with my Dr. Danner, on our next face to face. And yes, I take, eat and swallow my medication as ordered and directed every day of life. I swallow..
...like the food I eat for sustenance, I consume the many pills, capsules, and tablets to enable me to continue along this Path of mine. There is great hope that some two are to be discontinued soon. Maybe sometime not too far from now. I pray. And am hopeful that because I swallow these modern day miracle medications, they will do right by me. As I have done right by them, and as it has been that these, my Dear Right Good Doctor's, have prescribed these multi coloured, splintered, razor sharp self-inducing medications that I eat gladly. Daily I swallow. Still.
I have sweat, perspired and misted the majority of my awake time today. Two showers, two t-shirts and here I sit with my "do rag" on my scalp and my favorite red bandanna tied around my neck, not too tight right like, and at this very instant the misting is limited to my neck and scalp. Which is fine by me. Often times this is so damned embarrassing. Especially when in public. Or at Publix, where shopping is a pleasure. Or the store with the Two Big Red Ball's out front of it's doors. The store also known as the store with the Big Red Dot. Or, anywhere really. Damn it.
I share that this feels good being here and sitting here sharing with you, my Guest. Thank you for stopping by and reading a bit about me and this Meniere's today. I would like to think that this communique is the one that breaks the pattern of not communicating...
...in my mind, heart and energies, I know that the silences is not what is best for me or the direction I am headed towards. I think certainly I have had a break through. I am holding on and taking this wave to the shore.
I have simply got to get back onto my Pony and keep on riding. Keep on keeping on, is where I come from and at this moment, even though quite uncomfortable and the sweating has returned,
I believe.
This is all I have to say.
I believe.
I wish peace.
Before I go much further, I ask that you please accept my mea culpa. I apologize sincerely for my lack of penmanship. Yes, perhaps I could chalk it up to the sleep that has continued now for what amounts to two plus weeks. But I won't. No, not this is not the twenty hours per day of recent, but I am still held within the grips of the slumber. I stopped counting since the last I sent out a communique. Please, my Relations, know I am truly contrite and have a plan to get back into a swing of things in Life, on My Path, and sharing my utterances about this ridiculously mad, silent disease, Meniere's.
As of this moment, 1934, on this date, 08 April, 2013, I am gagging and burping from the nausea caught in my lower throat. I burp with a purpose and still hope that this helps me with the nausea. This is happening right now right here where I have this slight dip between my two shoulder blades. It's like smack dab in front of my lower throat, is where this originates actually. The best I can describe this is to compare it to back when I was Anorexic and Bulimic. You see, sometimes there is a delay of two or three gags before the vomit would expel from my stomach and exit the portal from whence it came. Those days are remembered each and every fucking time I have the nausea and especially the gagging attacks. For shits sake, I'm going to have a stroke behind this heaving and gagging and dry throw up. Maybe just my saliva, with it's hyper-productivity spilling from my lips will please the vomit spirit's. My lip's.
My Deaf Left Ear, is roaring like a giant water fall that I am standing simple yards from. I swear to my own heart that I have NEVER been able to find and read and or get an adequate exclamation of this absurd chaos that goes on between these three ears of mine. I count my BAHA as my third ear. I mean, when I bathe every day, it needs to be washed just like my other two ears. Huh? I can hear two ears being washed only, my right good-bad-ear-hole-to-the-brains and my implant. My Dear Deaf Left, is as out of sound as a door knob. Don't ask...
...yet, today, I listen to and hear voice's, sound's of the swamps of The National Everglades Park at dusk and from Tarzan's Jungle. The sounds of giant six foot tall cicadas are driving me goof-fuckin'-ball-mad this afternoon. My right hear is listening to Jana Kramer, singing "Whiskey". She's singing just to me and my one-ear-hole-to-the-brain. I have been listening to some far off in the distance beeps and almost a funnels like sound distortion weaving these beeps near and far from my hearing. Crazy! Crazy?
My Right Ear has been popping plenty. So very distracting and sometimes so loud, and happening often enough that I will discuss this with my Dr. Danner, on our next face to face. And yes, I take, eat and swallow my medication as ordered and directed every day of life. I swallow..
...like the food I eat for sustenance, I consume the many pills, capsules, and tablets to enable me to continue along this Path of mine. There is great hope that some two are to be discontinued soon. Maybe sometime not too far from now. I pray. And am hopeful that because I swallow these modern day miracle medications, they will do right by me. As I have done right by them, and as it has been that these, my Dear Right Good Doctor's, have prescribed these multi coloured, splintered, razor sharp self-inducing medications that I eat gladly. Daily I swallow. Still.
I have sweat, perspired and misted the majority of my awake time today. Two showers, two t-shirts and here I sit with my "do rag" on my scalp and my favorite red bandanna tied around my neck, not too tight right like, and at this very instant the misting is limited to my neck and scalp. Which is fine by me. Often times this is so damned embarrassing. Especially when in public. Or at Publix, where shopping is a pleasure. Or the store with the Two Big Red Ball's out front of it's doors. The store also known as the store with the Big Red Dot. Or, anywhere really. Damn it.
I share that this feels good being here and sitting here sharing with you, my Guest. Thank you for stopping by and reading a bit about me and this Meniere's today. I would like to think that this communique is the one that breaks the pattern of not communicating...
...in my mind, heart and energies, I know that the silences is not what is best for me or the direction I am headed towards. I think certainly I have had a break through. I am holding on and taking this wave to the shore.
I have simply got to get back onto my Pony and keep on riding. Keep on keeping on, is where I come from and at this moment, even though quite uncomfortable and the sweating has returned,
I believe.
This is all I have to say.
I believe.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Meniere's Since Tuesday, The Cycle Of Sleep Has Been Broken
Kindred,
Today is the Fourth Day of April, 2013.
I sit in a place that I have learned is not too safe for me anymore. Seems to me that the more I am cut off from what is happening in my immediate area and community, the more worrisome I become. Soon, my dearest Bride and I will gather our thoughts and idea's to come up with a plan on how we are going to make our home a safer and more secure place for me when I am home alone and for when my wife, Botswana and I are here tucked away in our Lodge.
When I sit here while home alone, as I am now, the front of the Lodge is disconnected from me. Same is true about the entire West Wing, which includes our bedroom that includes two of my Safe Places, our great room, dining room, a bath and our garage. And even though just ten or so yards from the East Yard, I do not hear what is going on out there either. I know that it has rained off and on today, I smell it. The yard, gardens and car port are wet, but I did not hear a sound or one drop. The rains have come in good time. The drought continues and we have some dangerous situations going on here in Florida, with area's that are dry that were not dry before. Lakes, ponds and streams have gone dry. Blessed, Great Spirit, let it rain and let it rain some more.
On Tuesday the second I was able to break the cycle of sleep. Oh, and how appropriate is the use an exclamation right about now! That morning, I woke at 0730 and had my chin dragging on the floor and I was so ready and so-steadily-situated-to-side-step on things and area's of intense focus on matters that have been at work and in progress for months. Please, keep in mind that over the course of ten days I had slept over one hundred fifty hours, I was disgusted with myself and for what I thought were such damned important subjects just days ago. I was prepared to self sabotage all that My Team and I have done and worked on and gotten to and for fucks sake, I am serious. I was wrapped deeply in the blankets of sadness, gloom and a whole heapin' serving of self-loathing...
...seems to be that I would 'get it' by now that post Meniere's attack symptoms include that I am to be enveloped by the gloom. I'll catch on some time, some day. Some way, I say, I will. I promise this to myself and I.
Later on this past Tuesday, I was provided the opportunity to have a face to face with my right good doctor, He-Who-Touched-My-Brain. Sadly, I took that energy of self-destruction with me. I know I did because I saw my Spirit meet with Doctor's and my Doctor's Spirit's were affected by my words. That afternoon and no more than a couple of hours after doctor had his face in my face, I had reversed the direction I was headed in and steadied my Pony and got back on My Path and on course...
...I say I can do this. I can do it. Do it. Can Do! Drill Sargent! Yes, I'll Just Do It. To Deaf!
'Vonn, from over at Doc. D.'s clinic has faxed over the referral for work to be done in our bath. I am so excited that I can't deny it! I will bring along this document when I meet with My Advocate, over at Self-Reliance, Inc., next week. I'm so excited about the visit too because My Advocate has some fantastic equipment for me.
And, oh yes, all of this sure does fit in right on in there with respects to making our home a safer environment for me and a more secure home for us to dwell. I am indeed the Blessed One to have crossed paths with My Advocate and this extraordinary organization. I am.
The rains have kept our temperatures cool and comfortable in and out of doors. After several days of air condition, it is pleasant to have the breeze pass through our House of Seven Windows. Yet, even with these cooler temperature's, the sweats of Meniere's has had me with or without a shirt off and on all of the today. I sit here bare chested and am still uncomfortable. Yes, I know, it's all part of the Meniere's Experience and I probably might could have a plan in place for this and then, I would say to anyone who says that to me to please kiss my ass. Wait, that's no way to treat a Lady, but this type of verbiage is the type of shit I have to hear and listen to when ignorant Folks talk. Seems to me like there is still a whole damned many of them too. But, I share, things are getting better.
Since this Tuesday, the nausea has been on hyper-drive and has been hyper-productive. I have had gagging attacks on the extense. What, when all I am bringing out of my mouth is the saliva that seems to become over productive and literally spills from my gagging face and mouth. I mean, for shits sake, I gag and I hunch over in anticipation of vomit knowing there's nothing in my stomach. I was and am passing body liquids from my face like a fountain. No, not funny, although I did laugh at myself when I caught a peak at what I look like when I have these gagging attacks. Fack Honey's!
My right ear has been having some very difficult times hearing since this most recent Meniere's and vertigo attack and its symptom's. I swear that it seems as if my hearing has gone to a new low level of difficulty hearing. Then, there are the sounds and noises coming from both ears so very bad these two past days. My Dear Good One God, MY EARS ARE ROARING! Earlier today, shortly after rising from bed actually and around 0930, I heard what sounded like a jet plane in freeze frame over the Lodge. Hell yes, just like if a air bus was in a state of suspended animation - directly over head and not traveling anywhere. Just there. With it's engines roaring and roaring, loud and louder. No, there wasn't a damned air bus out side! By the way, I did not go out of doors to look. On this piece, I have taken it for granted that I am learning to distinguish what is this from what is and isn't that. My Deaf Left Ear is acting up and sending and receiving Top Secret Codes from the KGB, the FBI and the CIA and the Guamanian Secret Service. These Morris Codes have been non-damned-stop since last night. I went to bed to rest and sleep with the Morris Code and I woke this morning with the beepity-beep-beep-beepity-beep-beep. There seems to be an urgency coming out of Moscow. Um, no I don't have my translator on yet. Fuck!
These beeps are inhumane! The Geneva Convention would file papers against this type of torture. I know this as a fact, it is a very simple fact, this type of sound and effect has affected who I am, where I am headed now and today compared to just a very short few years ago. I know this.
To my Guest's, I wish to thank you for your visit. I am honored.
The cycle of sleep has been broken!
Love, peace and more peace, me
Today is the Fourth Day of April, 2013.
I sit in a place that I have learned is not too safe for me anymore. Seems to me that the more I am cut off from what is happening in my immediate area and community, the more worrisome I become. Soon, my dearest Bride and I will gather our thoughts and idea's to come up with a plan on how we are going to make our home a safer and more secure place for me when I am home alone and for when my wife, Botswana and I are here tucked away in our Lodge.
When I sit here while home alone, as I am now, the front of the Lodge is disconnected from me. Same is true about the entire West Wing, which includes our bedroom that includes two of my Safe Places, our great room, dining room, a bath and our garage. And even though just ten or so yards from the East Yard, I do not hear what is going on out there either. I know that it has rained off and on today, I smell it. The yard, gardens and car port are wet, but I did not hear a sound or one drop. The rains have come in good time. The drought continues and we have some dangerous situations going on here in Florida, with area's that are dry that were not dry before. Lakes, ponds and streams have gone dry. Blessed, Great Spirit, let it rain and let it rain some more.
On Tuesday the second I was able to break the cycle of sleep. Oh, and how appropriate is the use an exclamation right about now! That morning, I woke at 0730 and had my chin dragging on the floor and I was so ready and so-steadily-situated-to-side-step on things and area's of intense focus on matters that have been at work and in progress for months. Please, keep in mind that over the course of ten days I had slept over one hundred fifty hours, I was disgusted with myself and for what I thought were such damned important subjects just days ago. I was prepared to self sabotage all that My Team and I have done and worked on and gotten to and for fucks sake, I am serious. I was wrapped deeply in the blankets of sadness, gloom and a whole heapin' serving of self-loathing...
...seems to be that I would 'get it' by now that post Meniere's attack symptoms include that I am to be enveloped by the gloom. I'll catch on some time, some day. Some way, I say, I will. I promise this to myself and I.
Later on this past Tuesday, I was provided the opportunity to have a face to face with my right good doctor, He-Who-Touched-My-Brain. Sadly, I took that energy of self-destruction with me. I know I did because I saw my Spirit meet with Doctor's and my Doctor's Spirit's were affected by my words. That afternoon and no more than a couple of hours after doctor had his face in my face, I had reversed the direction I was headed in and steadied my Pony and got back on My Path and on course...
...I say I can do this. I can do it. Do it. Can Do! Drill Sargent! Yes, I'll Just Do It. To Deaf!
'Vonn, from over at Doc. D.'s clinic has faxed over the referral for work to be done in our bath. I am so excited that I can't deny it! I will bring along this document when I meet with My Advocate, over at Self-Reliance, Inc., next week. I'm so excited about the visit too because My Advocate has some fantastic equipment for me.
And, oh yes, all of this sure does fit in right on in there with respects to making our home a safer environment for me and a more secure home for us to dwell. I am indeed the Blessed One to have crossed paths with My Advocate and this extraordinary organization. I am.
The rains have kept our temperatures cool and comfortable in and out of doors. After several days of air condition, it is pleasant to have the breeze pass through our House of Seven Windows. Yet, even with these cooler temperature's, the sweats of Meniere's has had me with or without a shirt off and on all of the today. I sit here bare chested and am still uncomfortable. Yes, I know, it's all part of the Meniere's Experience and I probably might could have a plan in place for this and then, I would say to anyone who says that to me to please kiss my ass. Wait, that's no way to treat a Lady, but this type of verbiage is the type of shit I have to hear and listen to when ignorant Folks talk. Seems to me like there is still a whole damned many of them too. But, I share, things are getting better.
Since this Tuesday, the nausea has been on hyper-drive and has been hyper-productive. I have had gagging attacks on the extense. What, when all I am bringing out of my mouth is the saliva that seems to become over productive and literally spills from my gagging face and mouth. I mean, for shits sake, I gag and I hunch over in anticipation of vomit knowing there's nothing in my stomach. I was and am passing body liquids from my face like a fountain. No, not funny, although I did laugh at myself when I caught a peak at what I look like when I have these gagging attacks. Fack Honey's!
My right ear has been having some very difficult times hearing since this most recent Meniere's and vertigo attack and its symptom's. I swear that it seems as if my hearing has gone to a new low level of difficulty hearing. Then, there are the sounds and noises coming from both ears so very bad these two past days. My Dear Good One God, MY EARS ARE ROARING! Earlier today, shortly after rising from bed actually and around 0930, I heard what sounded like a jet plane in freeze frame over the Lodge. Hell yes, just like if a air bus was in a state of suspended animation - directly over head and not traveling anywhere. Just there. With it's engines roaring and roaring, loud and louder. No, there wasn't a damned air bus out side! By the way, I did not go out of doors to look. On this piece, I have taken it for granted that I am learning to distinguish what is this from what is and isn't that. My Deaf Left Ear is acting up and sending and receiving Top Secret Codes from the KGB, the FBI and the CIA and the Guamanian Secret Service. These Morris Codes have been non-damned-stop since last night. I went to bed to rest and sleep with the Morris Code and I woke this morning with the beepity-beep-beep-beepity-beep-beep. There seems to be an urgency coming out of Moscow. Um, no I don't have my translator on yet. Fuck!
These beeps are inhumane! The Geneva Convention would file papers against this type of torture. I know this as a fact, it is a very simple fact, this type of sound and effect has affected who I am, where I am headed now and today compared to just a very short few years ago. I know this.
To my Guest's, I wish to thank you for your visit. I am honored.
The cycle of sleep has been broken!
Love, peace and more peace, me
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Meniere's Disease, The Sleep Continues, My Doctor and God Save Syria
Kind One's,
I begin this communique with the news of a continued battle with deep and long sleeps that really have seemingly taken over and control of my mind and body since the Meniere's Disease, Vertigo Attack on the night of 23 March and which lasted well into the morning of Sunday 24 March 2013. Today is 02 April 2013. This morning when I woke from slumber I felt as if I had no sleep at all. It is now that after having slept over one hundred forty hours since and still averaging twenty hours per day of deep dream inducing sleep, that I must wage a fight against this and with this said, I am compelled to assist with the breaking up of this very long curse of sleep. My Kindred One, I am ashamed to admit that I have slept so much of my life away. These are days of hours that I will never retrieve. Poof, they're gone. Just like that.
Sunday, Easter Day, was the one day that I was able to stay awake longer than six hours. I was able to spend fantastic, loving time with family. My two brilliant nephews! Oh, how I love them so very much. My Lil' Dude's, for sure. It truly makes me sick in my heart and mind to think of life that has dashed right on by.
I make mention of an ill stomach and say this because I have had nausea over the past two hours. Have had disgusting gag attacks that have made my lower jaw and chest ache. So very disgusting and this accompanied by a constant taste of stomach acids - which seems to have clung to my tongue and teeth. I think rich blue berries would be nice to help with this disgusting taste in my mouth and I will remember to pick some up the next time in the market where shopping is a pleasure. For now, strawberries will have to do. It is too bad these are not the wild berry, the wild berry is a better bitter berry for these types of stomach, nausea and vomit-in-my-mouth occurrence's. These are not so much to eat, but more to suck on for the juices that chase away the tastes of productive nausea.
I am sweating. Bad, and I feel cold and clammy to the touch. My forehead and the top of my skull is wet from this and my t-shirt clings to my neck. I feel the wetness on my chest and back. I am dizzy and this dizziness is intoxicating this morning. My steps are guarded as I seem to stumble about my safe place. And I feel weak and subdued.
The spiders have returned and the worms have never gone anywhere anyway from the left side of my upper left scalp. Look, these bleeding bastards were so difficult this morning about three, that I considered sticking my scalp with an ice pick. I wanted to see if I might control this ridiculous shit going on between my scalp and skull on my own means. Yeah, it sounds ridiculous, but my dear Kin, if you only knew...
I have an appointment with He-Who-Touched-My-Brains at 1200 noon, today. I am eager to see my Dear Good Right Doctor. The wound has sealed, so for the first time since last year there isn't drainage from there and I know Doc. will be appreciative of that, but I don't know if he will be happy seeing a little lip sticking out the side of my skull. The BAHA, Bone Anchored Hearing Aid, does in fact come into direct contact with this piece of my flesh, but there isn't any pain associated with it. Yet, anyways. If it shrinks we celebrate - if it grows, it's back to the slice-n-dice. As of this morning the size remains the same as last week. Time will tell. We'll talk in a spell.
We'll also discuss whatever confusion there may be between She-With-Many-Name's and this clinic. As a patient, I want my Neurologist to know that she makes the calls on the cervical spine and neurologically related issues. Cart Blanche. My Doctor Danner, makes all the calls on the Meniere's Disease front. This waiting around for He to approve She is for the fucking birds. I have been in pain and discomfort in my scalp, neck and shoulder for well over a week. Apparently, Botox, does not do me well. Please.
Shit!
My In-Law's will be here directly for a trip Down Town. May our visit be a Blessed visit.
Would you judge me harshly if I shared that I could go back to sleep. An hour ago?
It is written that 6,000 people were murdered in Syria, by Assad and his military in the month of March. I see that more children have been killed than Women and I ask myself, what the fuck is going on here? Why is it that Mother Earth and Her People's have turned a collected back on these wonderful peoples of Syria, my fellow Humans. My Kindred Spirit's...
...the Government's of every country on this globe has stamped, "APPROVED", on the Genocide perpetrated today. Just as it was the Government's of this World turned their backs on what Hitler was doing with Jewish citizens. As a Child Of God, I pray, as a citizen of Mother Earth, I scream for justice, and as a Kindred Spirit, my Heart, Mind, and Spirit's are sad and bitter. It remains my belief that if Syria and her Citizens were a White People's - our Marines, Army Soldiers, Navy and Air Force would have been all over this abomination to all Man Kind.
I have no more to say.
I begin this communique with the news of a continued battle with deep and long sleeps that really have seemingly taken over and control of my mind and body since the Meniere's Disease, Vertigo Attack on the night of 23 March and which lasted well into the morning of Sunday 24 March 2013. Today is 02 April 2013. This morning when I woke from slumber I felt as if I had no sleep at all. It is now that after having slept over one hundred forty hours since and still averaging twenty hours per day of deep dream inducing sleep, that I must wage a fight against this and with this said, I am compelled to assist with the breaking up of this very long curse of sleep. My Kindred One, I am ashamed to admit that I have slept so much of my life away. These are days of hours that I will never retrieve. Poof, they're gone. Just like that.
Sunday, Easter Day, was the one day that I was able to stay awake longer than six hours. I was able to spend fantastic, loving time with family. My two brilliant nephews! Oh, how I love them so very much. My Lil' Dude's, for sure. It truly makes me sick in my heart and mind to think of life that has dashed right on by.
I make mention of an ill stomach and say this because I have had nausea over the past two hours. Have had disgusting gag attacks that have made my lower jaw and chest ache. So very disgusting and this accompanied by a constant taste of stomach acids - which seems to have clung to my tongue and teeth. I think rich blue berries would be nice to help with this disgusting taste in my mouth and I will remember to pick some up the next time in the market where shopping is a pleasure. For now, strawberries will have to do. It is too bad these are not the wild berry, the wild berry is a better bitter berry for these types of stomach, nausea and vomit-in-my-mouth occurrence's. These are not so much to eat, but more to suck on for the juices that chase away the tastes of productive nausea.
I am sweating. Bad, and I feel cold and clammy to the touch. My forehead and the top of my skull is wet from this and my t-shirt clings to my neck. I feel the wetness on my chest and back. I am dizzy and this dizziness is intoxicating this morning. My steps are guarded as I seem to stumble about my safe place. And I feel weak and subdued.
The spiders have returned and the worms have never gone anywhere anyway from the left side of my upper left scalp. Look, these bleeding bastards were so difficult this morning about three, that I considered sticking my scalp with an ice pick. I wanted to see if I might control this ridiculous shit going on between my scalp and skull on my own means. Yeah, it sounds ridiculous, but my dear Kin, if you only knew...
I have an appointment with He-Who-Touched-My-Brains at 1200 noon, today. I am eager to see my Dear Good Right Doctor. The wound has sealed, so for the first time since last year there isn't drainage from there and I know Doc. will be appreciative of that, but I don't know if he will be happy seeing a little lip sticking out the side of my skull. The BAHA, Bone Anchored Hearing Aid, does in fact come into direct contact with this piece of my flesh, but there isn't any pain associated with it. Yet, anyways. If it shrinks we celebrate - if it grows, it's back to the slice-n-dice. As of this morning the size remains the same as last week. Time will tell. We'll talk in a spell.
We'll also discuss whatever confusion there may be between She-With-Many-Name's and this clinic. As a patient, I want my Neurologist to know that she makes the calls on the cervical spine and neurologically related issues. Cart Blanche. My Doctor Danner, makes all the calls on the Meniere's Disease front. This waiting around for He to approve She is for the fucking birds. I have been in pain and discomfort in my scalp, neck and shoulder for well over a week. Apparently, Botox, does not do me well. Please.
Shit!
My In-Law's will be here directly for a trip Down Town. May our visit be a Blessed visit.
Would you judge me harshly if I shared that I could go back to sleep. An hour ago?
It is written that 6,000 people were murdered in Syria, by Assad and his military in the month of March. I see that more children have been killed than Women and I ask myself, what the fuck is going on here? Why is it that Mother Earth and Her People's have turned a collected back on these wonderful peoples of Syria, my fellow Humans. My Kindred Spirit's...
...the Government's of every country on this globe has stamped, "APPROVED", on the Genocide perpetrated today. Just as it was the Government's of this World turned their backs on what Hitler was doing with Jewish citizens. As a Child Of God, I pray, as a citizen of Mother Earth, I scream for justice, and as a Kindred Spirit, my Heart, Mind, and Spirit's are sad and bitter. It remains my belief that if Syria and her Citizens were a White People's - our Marines, Army Soldiers, Navy and Air Force would have been all over this abomination to all Man Kind.
I have no more to say.
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