My Nightly Roll of the Die

It was a stroke of luck that my daily dose of poison occurs at night.  They say take it about the same time every day.  Why they do not advise taking it at night is a puzzle.  No time of day is specified.

I got the idea because a hematologist in Iowa came to my acquaintance through my ex boss, the house manager who hired me way back.  Her brother in law has reviewed my stuff and gave the proper Dx long ago.

He is quite the guy.  He actually cares and pays attention, and thinks to himself, "How can I make this process easier for my patients to take?"  It is obvious. He doesn't say it.  Not like politicians who claim such compassion in areas of life where they do not belong.  But he found that evening hours for certain things made life much less unpleasant for his clients.  The man is a saint.  And he really helped guide me, and indirectly some of the medical people here.

Anyway, I found out that he goes in at night to administer chemo and such to his ailing cancer patients.  He did it at night because they are more likely to do OK and to sleep through the worst.

I do not think the people handling my case are even close to that considerate.  I'm beginning to think they hate most of their patients--bunch of whiney creeps, dying of cancer.  They exist for the benefit of the doctor's ego and that is it!

And you think Obama and Pelosi's system helps this?  Keep drinking that koolaid. They didn't even know what was in the bill, and still don't. Neither do we, really.  Contrary to the tone of the discussion, Obama no more wrote that bill or even served as general architect of the thing than I wrote A Midsummer Night's Dream.   People are greedy and stupid in large voting blocks. How cool is that? That means anything is possible.

What the heck.  things were screwy anyway, so why not buy votes buy screwing it up more in the name of the little guy or whoever.

This is not chemo, but it is designed to shut off a lot of stuff.  Kind of a killer thing and toxic. All the talk of people using gloves and shooting anyone who touches the stuff bare handed who is not taking it.  Medicine. When did it take the wrong turn into lala land?  Maybe thousands of years ago.

I am not set up for anything as drastic as that, and no need, so all is well.  I think now that it all may improve. Every time I feel good for twenty minutes I decide that it is going to be OK. And I feel it deep down.

So, I think at night is the ticket to hope to sleep through the worst.  Often it knocks me right out. Sometimes, not.  So, before I take it, I hope and beg for a good night and morning.  Mostly I do OK.
And from now on I am fighting the fatigue just to prove to any bastard who needs come uppance that I am not putting up with this nonsense.

I'll use my anger at those who fancy themselves superior to show them who is superior.  And the rest is all love. Even if you are a hopeless dimwit. As long as you are not mean.

Where was I?  Right. One ice cream sandwich and one hydroxyblablabla.

What if this wounded warrior guy gets tour gigs?  I think he might get some opening slots, and I'mn their harp player. Can I do it?  We'll see.  I have to do everything.

Hard Rock Cafe tomorrow with new viola, substitute bass and drummer with bone issues of the hand.  What a band of weirdos.  But we are pretty good.  Hell the viola played the symphony. And yet she thinks I am worthy. She maybe thinks I am the Mac Daddy of back up and solo musicians.  Clearly she made a friend for life out of me!!  Married. Geez.  Figures.  Not that I feel confident bringing anyone in to my iffy life.

No Good. I'm Still Angry. Drat!!!

Anger will not do.  I cannot afford, nor do I want to spend the time and energy on that wasted condition.  Sure, a little anger now and then is helpful. It could get you out of the path of the speeding bus just in time.

But cultivating it, or letting it run where it does no good--now this is the stupid thing to do.

The subject of family came up and I realized I am mad about certain reactions and behaviors.  But these were the exact behaviors that existed in certain others when I was one or two, and from then on.

Older siblings know instinctively that they can have a hope of destroying you if they demonstrate no respect for you no matter what.  That is different from being nice, but not a lot different.  So, I am pissed that I valued such opinions and that they still sting.

I never should have sand bagged because people more pitiful than myself wanted so badly to win at any cost, and seemed so crushed if I won.  Screw them. I should have done better.   I could not fight everyone.  Especially because I was too young to know everything I needed to know to survive these people any better than I did.

But I cannot set myself up for that feeling again.  I will make some claim about scattering me in the gulf stream or Shasta lake or something.  Gulf Stream. Caribbean. That's the real ticket.  Just to annoy them.  But before that, who cares?

I have to get past the anger to the point that if I am confronted by this old childhood insecure jerky behavior, I can view it with something other than anger.  At this point anger is all I got.

It is sad.  If I were bleeding in a ditch far away from home or friends.  Family would be way the hell down on the list of those I'd call for help, if on it at all.  I would probably rather die than see that look or hear one word.  Why now?  I do not want to feel this.  But I see no changing.  Changing is always left to me.  I'm defective and everyone else is productive and , oh geez the I word, intelligent.  On that last, the degree of superiority or any evidence of superiority, if it comes down to it, is dubious, or non existent.

But I do not have the long term career, bank account, offspring , etc. to prove it, therefore I am inferior and not to be allowed admittance into the halls of the self appointed elite in life.

Seriously, this is not healthy but I cannot think of how to fix it.  I do not want to be resenting anyone. We are lucky to have life. It is an amazing condition. Everything is. Existence itself is mind blowing. We don't even know what it is.

Dilemmas May Emerge

It sure is difficult trying to get a few people to show up and not make trouble when playing music.  Now the bass player's ver part time job has called, and he can't make Thursday at Hard Rock Cafe. We only play from 5 to 7.  A nice, early supper time thing.

So, we know a guy who does play some bass and he is willing to take the time to listen to mp3 versions of the material and show up.  I was pretty sure he would not refuse.  He is also one of the best sound men around.  He's run sound at a few events, like the Dia de Los Muertos festival in Old Town.  It was good.

This guys is the quintessential geeky nerd guy.  You would probably see him at trekkie conventions comic-con. I don't even know how to write the last one.  Never heard of it before living here.  A big huge deal with people dressing up oddly and Hollywood celebs hanging out and comic book nonsense is the star.

It always sounded like people were saying "commie con".  For the first year or two I thought it was a democratic party event.

It has nothing to do with commies, but the con, I suspect, is quite robust.  "Public servants", the kind who make laws for us but are dumb enough to think Guam or Okinawa might capsize from too many marines, like to say that word, "robust".  It is less obviously hip, but still almost as hip as variations of sustainability, sustainable, etc.

Yes, yes, yaz, quite a robust and sustainable piece of legislation.  That is their speak for, people will be sacrificed for our view of the common good.  Must break some eggs if we want an omelet.

Where was I?  and why am I here now?

Bass player. Check.

The drummer has something wrong with his hand and is going to have to find a way to take time out. Not easy to replace him at all.  I am not sure if he hasn't pushed that hand too far. I told him. Dang it.

And then there is no telling the sort of time bomb I have become.  Boom, you're outta here.  Mostly the annoying attacks are manageable, but not always.  This esophagus issue is not good.  I may be seriously afflicted with an exotic ailment which may all be my imagination.  I always tell myself that.

And the Marine who brought me in to record on his project wants me with him from now on.  It could present a conflict.  He knows I play with Sande, but if he ends up with a little tour in the works, I cannot say no, I don't think.  I believe he has at least one or two songs that will do well on the country charts if no one screws it all up.

Temperamental people, like performers, do screw things up.  The ego and view of reality become very confusing.  

Anyway, I am trying to play where it suits me while I can. That could change at any moment.  If I kick on stage at a stadium or something that would be fine.  Otherwise maybe not.  I may have to go back and tell the internist I have an issue and quit arguing. I hate stubborn doctors. Does he think I made it up?  He didn't see it because when he was removing his device he messed up something in there. By then he was out so of course he didn't see it.

It is such a f'ing bureaucracy to navigate just to see these people. Hardly worth it.  The model of dealing with patients is similar to the corporate, and even small business, way of hiring.  Anything to avoid actual face to face contact.  Anything to avoid admitting that you are human or they are human.  How can we manage to never meet?  Somehow I blame the state.  But it is too tedious to back that up.

So, how is it going to end?  How will I ever get this mess sorted out so I am not worried about it?  It was good about a year and a half ago.  Year and three months, anyway.

Hunger does not show up like it did.  Now all my fatso clothes, that I bought when I thought I'd be a heavy non smoker forever, are becoming dangerously loose.  Time to gain some weight back.
I'm almost back down so that the skinny clothes are not even tight.

I decided the playing makes me feel better for minutes and hours at a time.  I can't do much else that I would like so this is the last maneuver into some sort of swan song scenario, or just exit in a moment of enjoyment.  I do not think this life can continue all that long as is.  But as long as I get everything organized, then I am OK. That is my only worry.