So far we won Battle Ship

Next is Twister, the toughest part.   Someone changed the order.
Stay tuned to Life In the Chemo Resort, overlooking golf, ocean and hang gliders

Bill And Ted's Bogus Journey - Reaper Games

Playing Battleship With The Reaper

If you are familiar with the old Bill and Ted's adventure movies, you'll get that reference.   They escaped the Reaper by beating him in Battleship--a game, not tied to electronics of any kind.

So, I don't know where I stand.

I suspect when your blood production is so lame that you are rushed in for a transfusion, perhaps the status quo has changed.  While I was there they stuck something in my hip bone to get a sample of bone marrow to study.  A BMB, bone marrow biopsy.  Now we expect to know result tomorrow.

Never did I think I would have, need, or maybe even accept a blood transfusion.  Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.  My mother would have refused.  So would many religions.  It is probable that deadly results would have occurred by now.

I kept finding I was winded at the slightest activity, sometimes mild little adventures like walking to my car, ten feet outside my door.  Or walking across the room.   It had been going on awhile, but was rapidly getting worse, so I finally called the world of medicine.

I don't get these bureaucratic organizations.  I call, thinking I am getting the office of my primary care lady, whom I rarely see.  I explain the problem and say I want to see what she has to say.  Next thing I know they are making an appointment with a pulmonary specialists I have never seen.  I tell the girl I want the hematologist in this loop as it is likely the blood issue.  Right over her head.  She didn't consult the primary either.  Nuts.

I decide that approach is no good.  So, I go online to the Scripps patient interface and cancel the appointment.  I can't make appointments online but I can message these people.  So, I shoot one to the hematologist office explaining the symptoms, and since I know their psychology, I tell them I am stopping the chemo pill unless I hear otherwise, because I think maybe we are running deficiencies.

They immediately order a lab for me to do asap.  Then late that night I get a call at home urging me in immediately.  He seemed a bit miffed that I was even conscious.  I negotiate to come in the morning. Etc.

More tests and still hgb levels around 6 or 7.  Whites about double what's max good value, and reds about half what's bottom of envelope for OK.    Yikes, they say.  WTF, I say, except I really knew it was coming.  I knew for quite awhile.  Just did.  But beyond that I know nothing.  I have no clue where we go from here, if we even do.

We'll get results of the BMB then what that leaves in the realm of treatment options I do not know.  I am not sure I won't have some tough decisions.  If a person could come here and make my little 400 sf cabin perfect I would pay $2000 or $3000.  Then I'd have peace of mind.

I have taxes to do, but I can handle that once I find the W whatever forms.  I'm a little late on filing.  I still resent the fact that people have allowed themselves to be normalized into being subjects of the state.  It is wrong.  It is not the same thing as being a citizen and asset to the community.

It is what it is.  Now, I wonder if I will see the next birthday.  My number one goal is to get all in order, snatch whatever I have out of grimy government fingers, and not leave work for others.  Not much else I can ask at the moment.

There is a remote possibility this stuff can be sort of contained in ways to keep me going for a decade or more.  The cool part is that I still look healthy.  Better to look good than to be good.

I did three gigs in one weekend after the transfusion.  It was shocking how it feels to have energy.  I had forgotten--so many months trying to fake it when around people or playing music.  So, now I play because I can, and because it clears my mind.  I tell myself to play like there is no tomorrow.  Dark humor I suppose, but who knows?  It may be reality.

I hope I did more good than harm.  I know I have hurt people in long ago times, mostly out of complete ignorance and no grasp of the realities of life.  I cannot stand to see others in pain, and am horrified at the thought of me being the cause of any of it.  With luck I may find that I have done more good.

So, I think they should play this as someone tosses the ashes in the most suitable place--Gulf Stream, Rockies, off my nephew's Seattle boat?  I would go the traditional in a box route but that requires buying real estate and God only knows what fees and regulations come in to play. So forget it.

People Are Nuts. Why?

The half truths that assault us from everywhere, and the refusal to even accept truth if it ruins victim status, has just about pushed me over the edge.  It is unreal.\

You're a racist!!!
Why?
 Because you said you're not happy with Mexico dumping their shit in the ocean which is carried north to Imperial beach and beyond.
What, are you serious?   Or are you just unaware of the meaning of the words you use?
MISOGYNIST!!!
??????
So, why do you abuse women?
What?

And on and on and on.  That is not far off of the dialog I see these days.  The word, "misogynist" is as over used and misused as the word, "racist".  Good God, is it totally necessary to continually create victim classes in order to manipulate people and votes and broker power?  never mind.

The problem is that the word, "misandrist" doesn't roll off the tongue.  I don't think half the people that use it know what the word "misogynist" even means, but the hear and see it and it is usually blasted at Trump and anyone not obsessed with his demise.

The truth really is though, that public schools teach and function on the basis of dogmatic misandry, and they are proud of their efforts over the last forty years to ram this hateful doctrine down our throats.  Object and you are a MISOGYNIST, sexist, homophobe, racist, islamaphobe.  It is required to lump a bunch those together.  Shotgun fired BS passing as intelligent insight.

I admit to being a phobe.  I think groups like CAIR are dishonest, evil, and creepy.  I think their religion is creepy too.  It used to be my right to have dislikes likes, lusts, fears, and even, God forbid, CHOICE!  Most religions bother me.  A huge contingent of the religion of peace creeps me out, I confess.  I base it on personal interactions and conversations and stuff I see here and there on media and the net.  Could be all a trick.

I know of one or two members of the ultra tolerant happy go lucky islamic faith who are great people, honest, trustworthy, bright, and cool to be around.  They probably haven't seen the inside of a mosque in fifty years.

Mostly I don't care about them one way or another, just like every other group who voluntarily shuns others as unclean or whatever.  It is their insistence on special treatment and constant efforts to achieve victimhood and use that to force the rest of the population to their will in some way that makes me dislike them.

That covers many groups whose unifying characteristics have nothing to do with real principles or tolerance, but rather condition of birth, imagined sexual identifications etc.  Nothing to do with principles or how best to live in peace.

You cannot just mind your own business any more.  If you aren't hijacking the angst of who you see as downtrodden, even if you are in no way part of the group you choose to defend (unbidden) then you are part of the problem and it would be OK for you to get shot.  That is the convoluted thinking that prevails.

If you don't jump on a cause you think is BS, and in a manner you consider BS, then you are the whole list of awful things; racist misogynist sexist homophobe meanie to lbgtynqxxx community islamaphobe fascist nazi --all of it.  One big list which may morph into one single very long word.  And it will be what no one wants to get called, because that label puts a target on you. Fair game.  Open season.  Object?  Ha!  That's your privilege talking.  And you don't even have to be white.  Anyone who disagrees, who isn't white is a traitor to their race their people.  Inside they must be white, otherwise they'd be waving the victim banner and wanting to burn down the White House.

We have become a land of racist xenophobes whom have no appreciation of others, and who hate all but their own people--as defined by condition of birth, not character or beliefs.  Hypocrites.  It is as if each lying hateful panderer is trying to outdo the other in dreaming up insane victim scenarios and justifications for preventing any opposition whatsoever.

It is absolutely nuts.  To the point where even I have to call many of these mouthy fools and noisy groups out on their false representation of police, particularly in certain specific cases.  I say even I, because I have long thought most cops to be dimwitted sadistic bullies.  And I have had some unpleasant interchanges with them in years past.  Bullies harass people they can.  It is based on perceived power.  Not race.  Where race would come in is if they generalize thinking some ethnicity or race has no financial political power that can hurt them.  So, they may profile when picking victims.

Playing the indignant martyr in the setting of the NFL, which has mire than it's share of wife beaters, and violent criminals is laughable.  I don't care whether they kneel or all pull out guns and shoot themselves in protest.  They are pandering for peer approval and the media portrays them as people of character who care and feel more than we mortals.  They are dimwits being painted as men of insight and character.  Pretense.  Does anyone really, deep down, believe this nonsense?

No need to answer, the obviously do

So, This is What it is Like To Have Energy

I guess this is how adding red cells when you aren't used to having any works.  At first I felt OK but not a giant difference.  By this morning I was feeling like a happy person with energy.  Our first gig was at noon, Nate's Garden Grill.  All their food is good, carnivore stuff or not.  It's a cool place with half the tables outside.   The kitchen is located on one side where indoors meets outdoors.  It works well.  Lots of families with babies.

I'm always surprised that people sit right there in front of us with their kids.  We are not loud, as musical groups go, but still I would not think they would feel good hanging right there with their babies.  It's weird playing to tables and people eating.  I often covet what I see on their plates as I musically babble through the harmonica.

It was so shocking to me today that I not only did not feel winded carrying an amplifier or walking to the car or any of that.  I had no idea that this would make such a difference in my playing.  Not stuff that involves much breath but finesse stuff and nuance.  Everything felt so easy and doable.  I am used to it actually hurting.

I know I will soon turn back into a pumpkin.  My preferred thought is to enjoy this while I can and throw my heart into the playing without being a lunatic or inappropriate, but when there is a cut loose number go out for all I am worth.

Now, I felt like I was really delivering quality backing and playing at Nate's.  I was loving it.  But on our second gig, this evening at Rebecca's, I gave our "John, cut loose!" number everything I could.  I have no idea what I did but people were reacting audibly at several points.  It's almost a polka beat, but not.  I forget what someone called it.  All B minor and only a couple of cords, but pure heaven for me.  Anyway, it's the kind of thing no one else is probably doing.

Maybe this was an important show for that group.  Another group played and then a guy did a short set, and then us.  I looked up and all the people usually doing other stuff while they listen were all watching us, and the baristas were leaning at the end of their counter listening.  It was like all other activity was suspended.

People were saying, "What are you guys doing here?".  I should tell you that the South Park area is rife with lunacy, so as great as those compliments might feel,  it is not something I'd take to the bank.

The whole thing with me was concern that I might be already back to the condition I was in that panicked my hematology guy into topping me off with some high test A negative.  A circumstance I never thought I would face.

I grew up under and around certain people who would have refused a blood transfusion.  I used to wonder if I would have qualms.  I guess not.  I knew the score, and my Dr., and there is no way he would order such a thing if it weren't imperative to the life of the patient to some degree.

I don't think I should continue discussing this now.  It could make me sad.  That is wrong.  Go be sad after you kick.   Despite what people make of it when they think it's all forever, life is a remarkable and beautiful state of affairs.

Probably there will be some difficult days ahead, but I have a shot at getting past it for some time.  Depends what we got going.  I probably already know, but I prefer to let that slide.  I need it all to turn around.  And it may.

In the mean time, I hope I still have energy tomorrow and that it does something good for a person to cross my path or hear us play.  If it does, then I'll probably be having a good time, and they'll throw money.  Right.

It will be outdoors, and should be a decent crowd.  I would have rather had a later time, but people will be out, just not as many as later.  We play at 12.  I hope we do as well as today.  We had some errors, but they really did not matter.  No clash or off key mistakes.  Sande never sings off key. I have never heard her hit an off pitch note.  Some people are not all that into it, but a ton more are.  Especially lately.  Something changed.

We got an encore after the cut loose number.  Never seen that in a coffee house.  They were friggin chanting.  So, Sande graciously agreed to do another "John cut loose" number.  I was kind of paranoid about turning back into a pumpkin.
'
I was sitting sideways in my car, door open, feet on the ground.  I stood up.  I am so much in the habit of that being a real effort that I groaned without thinking, but I was already up.  I just stood up like i used to do.  I guess I used to.  I honestly do not remember how differently I felt, but I know I did.  This is another ball game.  Priorities and outlook change a lot, but if you notice it, it is scary, so if I am you, the you just block out the things that bring uncertainty and fear.

Because all I really need is what I said before, the cabin to be put in spic and span spiffy primo condition, and to have some other things straightened out.  Then I can face whatever.

It looked like several people were taking video.  I wonder where they'll be.  I hope they youtube them.  What their titles would be, I am not sure.

I made a mistake of looking up treatment for what I thought maybe they'd diagnose when the results of the appropriate tests are back.  I'm doing no more of that.

Until awhile ago, I was really feeling upbeat.  I have to maintain that.  Whether it influences this condition or not, it is a lot more enjoyable being upbeat.  If time may be a little less abundant than I like, all the more reason.  Be upbeat while you can.

One thing for sure, I have not been imagining things.  Some people tend to need that sort of reassurance regarding their sanity.

Oh. This was about energy.  What a great feeling.  I was in one of those "I love everyone" modes.  Even the people I cussed at in traffic.  One of those, "He's as lazy as a dead skunk, bless his heart" sort of things.

I almost forgot.  Never mind.  Suffice to say this brief reprieve made possible by modern medicine has been, and is, I hope, a real treat.

Most of all I am missing denial about now.