It's Twue, It's Twue!!! Music does soothe the savage beast

We had a practice tonight.  I guess I haven't played with the Enter the Blue Sky group in many days, or a week or so.  I forgot I could feel that good.  It immediately removed my free floating anger and frustration.  I cannot believe how my mood shifted after a song or two.  Really remarkable.

All I wanted to do was punch doctors and yell at anyone and everyone when I arrived.  Then I was only too happy to just be alive and be playing with nice people.

This is why I rarely trust my anger and a certain sort of judgement.  I am often too far off to take my feelings as solidly rooted in reality.  I know this.  It seems most people do not know that anger can tend to bring about injustice, warped assessment of others, and a host of problems.  Not that it is not sometimes in order.

 If you are not mad a looters, you are probably a duped progressive and need to lay off the koolaid.

If you really think muslims are oppressed and misunderstood, you again need to cut down on the koolaid.

Controlling anger and understanding how it can lead to unfair view or treatment of others does not mean one has to pretend that the aberrant and base are somehow valid and worthwhile.

State of the Dissociative Runaway Train Notes

So, if they list possible side effects, it is possible that some may occur.
Just because you are paranoid does not mean they are out to get you.  They may just be discourteous, rude, or incompetent.  Then again, who knows?

A day long nose bleed is not so bad if it bleeds real slow like a minor runny nose.

I wish I had never heard Dock of the Bay.   Much as I like it, that one line just won't leave me alone.
And it makes things worse because it is true.

I remember when it started, or when I gave in to it.  Big mistake.  If you are a parent, you better find a way to help your offspring learn how life works, not how it doesn't.  And if you are a shallow jerk, I suggest leaping from the north rim of the Grand Canyon.

If it says, "If any of these symptoms occur, call your doctor immediately, and if you know the arrogant bastard is just going to say, "Well, maybe give it another few days or a week, and then see how it is.", why bother calling?   (or better yet, he may say, "I don't see why that should happen. I don't know what you want me to do") After all, spontaneous bruising from no known stimulus is nothing.  Big red and black blotches save you the cost of getting a meaningless (to anyone being honest) tattoo.  "Yea, I had elements of the Rorschach test permanently installed on my arm and calf."   Cool.  Almost as cool as that Frankenstein calf tattoo.

I tie it all up in a neat tidy package.  All of it.  Pushy government, dogmatic, passive-aggressive educational systems, the evolution of corporate-speak, and cries for idiots to control health care and retirement.  I could go on.  It is the same mentality for everything annoying.

People cannot live and let live.  If little twitty pricks think they are smart, they will run around doing all they can to prove it, preferably at the expense of others.  Eventually they are the ones who assure us that they know best what is good for us.  Since most of "us" are lazy, confused, and haggard from trying to make sense of it, we tend to let "them" have their way.

That just makes the creeps believe even more firmly in their intellectual superiority and their right to dictate how lives, resources and, lately, thought,  should be distributed, used and created.

I guess this is not just a manifestation of a depressed and ruined life.  It could be that the biological complex is steadily spiraling into total failure.

So, why am I mad?  I am mad because I did it all wrong and I don't think I have been much help to others over the course of this run.  And I cannot stand the institutionalized attitude, lack of thought, incompetence and false promise of hope.  Those bastards are not where hope lies.  Maybe sometimes. Not in this case.  The closer you get to the socialized aspect of the medical world, the less they give a damn about your life, and the more they tend to think of you as too dumb to live anyway.

I think a huge last tour will be in the offing eventually.  Otherwise I sit here and go to pieces from the remedy which is supposed to prevent me from going to pieces.

Believe me, the good things that come through in the world of medicine have a real fight finding their place due to the passionate idiocy, and general misanthropic policies which are implemented with a smile.

Like It or Not

Coyote Festival was good.  Perfect weather, nice sound and stage- equipment and personnel, and I enjoyed every group (at least one group was a group of one, and rocked).

Only picture I have seen of us does not include me, so forget it. I'm that narcissistic when I am bored or looking to stir the pot.

It is disturbing, though, that someone posted like 27 pictures from the event on facebook, and shows the band, but not me-- there left of Karen, the viola player.  Self doubt wafted out from the facebook screen like a tear gas bomb delivered by homeland security and local SWAT for my own good.

I'm pretty sure I've lost the appeal I may have at one time imagined I possessed.  The real question is, "Has anything been lost?"  You cannot lose something you never had.  That means this boils down to simple possession; yes or no?

I will say yes, but nothing more detailed, descriptive or relevant than that.

Figuring this thing out might be a good idea.  Truthfully, I have gone kind of numb in certain areas of thought.   If I think about health or consequences or what I really think in that regard, it immediately results in thought paralysis, until I mentally change the subject somehow.  Like now, I am talking about what I think without saying what it is that I think.  

Energy doesn't seem to grow on trees these days.  Or does it?

That reminds me; they have some of the dumbest, misanthropic tripe passed around sometimes on facebook.   The big idea that mankind is the only predator on the planet, and everything done by humans is terrible.   Beavers can build dams, but not humans.  

I don't believe in creating unacceptable (by my standards) collateral damage, but it is not really necessary.  That is actually what engineers are for, but people and companies get lazy, then they buy the government to pretend to make laws to whip the industry into shape, but it is mostly a means of rewarding benefactors and punishing competition.  Very easy to spec things out in such a way as to give one bidder for a contract a great advantage over others.  All the while pretending neutrality. 

That was a tangent, was it not?     Well, I am just not certain that I can make things happen, or not happen, to suit me.  I guess I better learn to reset the boundaries of what suits me.

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Good news, bad news, odd news

Here's the good news; nothing growing in my throat, and the ENT Doctor almost left me speechless.  The guy listened, never interrupted me, never twisted what I said, or asked a question, then interrupt the answer.  In other words, he was nothing like the others.

I made an effort to have my thoughts together so I could get him up to speed quickly and concisely.  I'm still stunned at how attentively and pleasantly he listened.  Not since the dermatologist, Lopez, have I experienced anyone paying such attention.

It goes back to the less than satisfactory internist, Flores.  Except I have no intention of dealing with him further.  And I agree with this new guy, Dr. Keith Jackson, that it is in the esophagus, and it is muscle spasms.  Not sure the cause.  But in order not to step on toes, he sends it back. Plus, it is what I told them I thought.

Anyway, if you need an ear, nose, and/or throat specialist in San Diego County, Jackson is the person to find.  Besides every room in his 5th floor office, waiting room and exam room included, has  a real great view of city and mountains.

The bad news is that I can't get this guy to take over for hematologists, and internists.  Good news, not throat issue, per se.   This may be fixable; almost certainly is.

Sometimes, often, I post stuff here because I want a record in case I forget, I can check and see where I have been.  It was odd, in my mind, that nothing would be seen, but I had told people, when I called in pain, that it was below my throat, behind sternum, upper sternum.   People with poor problem solving skills in any line of work tend to annoy me.

There is a very good chance I can fix this issue, and that maybe a maintenance does of the poison, eventually, is all I have to worry with, and that I will experience a near miraculous outcome.  Already, much of that has happened.

Next step, I go to TSA to see if they can run imaging to check for esophageal contraband.  If anything in there was missed by Dr Useless, or awakened during the scopy deal,  we'll find out.  Especially if it is shaped like a gun, or like a pop tart shaped like a gun.

I think I won't be a goner for a long time yet.  Maybe I'll get my place cleaned up. That is just about the entire bucket list.

Today was good, and that may be a bad timing if people want to run cameras up your nose.  Nothing to see here, move along.  If I had not seen data that was irrefutable, I would think I made up this entire saga and that I was creating all my own troubles.  Except when some sort of episode is in progress.  Then I don't think so.   But I do believe I will be as close to cured as it gets.  It is obviously headed that way.

Miracle boy. Or destined to never really have it all that tough.  Seriously, it is my fate, and the consistency of this syndrome is what encourages me to even entertain the idea of destiny.  It may take a minute, but this deal is going to work out OK.  It is remarkable how one can consciously influence physical maladies mentally.  I try to remember.  When I do, all is much better and more easily handled.  It won't make things perfect, but it helps.

Some people have things to learn.  It can be entertaining and interesting.



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You'll Know It Was Me

More properly, you'll know it was I.

I will be the one who beats up a local internist for being a smarmy, arrogant, chicken shit, spineless creep.  I got tired of calling him, explaining the pain would have landed me in the emergency room had anyone been here to drive, and having him act like it was all a lie.  "Well we didn't see anything that would cause blablabla.

The problem became a problem immediately following having a camera shoved down my throat.  Fair enough, but don't tell me, "There's no way that could have caused anything."  I am not the suing type.  However, depending upon how this goes, I may consider suing Dr Flores--Sergio---for being an arrogant ass.

He called me up angry because I had his office send records to an ear nose throat guy.  He originally wanted to put it to ENT.  At that time most pain was lower.  Now it is there too.  Got laryngitis and the pain stopped.  Got well from that and had steady pain for over 24 hours.  Some hours worse than others.  I took every boot leg pain killer, valium and muscle relaxer certain friends had in the cabinet.

That was the only way through it and to sleep.  I woke up better.  It has happened a few times before. Like every several days.

The medical world has gone to hell, and is going to go more to hell.  Centralized bureaucracy is evil.  Doesn't matter if it is insurance companies or government.  And being able to sue those who make honest effort is not good.  Someone like Flores, sue his arrogant ignorant ass.  He is smart enough to have the job, but too damned ignorant to know he cannot possible know better than I do how I feel, and what I feel.  He just wanted to avoid all responsibility.  Had no desire whatsoever to solve the problem.

So, how can I believe a guy like that will catch what needs catching from the camera images or video?

I told them all time and time again that the whole trouble centered between that dent where you do a tracheotomy and the diaphragm.

When you have nothing to lose, you do wonder what will stop you from punching a bastard like Dr Flores when he shows his face, or what will stop me from just trashing their bureaucratic wildness and nonsense.  At Scripps you go to all these desks then to the doctor then back to the desks. Then who knows.

If these mofos kill me out of being lily livered ****** etc. , then I plan on beating up a couple on my 3way out.  Would take them out because who wants to see them on the other side?  I'd just punch them in the nose, or maybe sucker punch to the gut.

This is Working Out

The poison pill is doing its job.  The count for the main culprit dropped by almost half.  It is just about in the range of normalcy.  This means I probably take some poison forever, but other things will reappear, like iron, and energy will against visit me.

Next solve the swallowing issue and life is grand.

Played the wounded warrior CD event with Chris Hamilton and band.  It was an interesting time.  There are people from 30 to 70 years old in that band.  It was a little rough from lack of everyone practicing together, but it wasn't bad.  The musicians are all really good.

The number one enemy, until you reach a level beyond my imagining, is the friggin sound system and set up. Why places get it so wrong, I am not sure.  Tonight I think the resonator player and I could hear one another but the room couldn't.  Monitors not in line with the mains.  So, we enjoyed the show more than anyone because we heard everything.

I am thinking that there is a chance of a real bounce-back within a month or two.   The JAK2 gene mutation is unlikely to un-mutate.   As a result of the mutated gene, the off switch in the bone marrow  malfunctions.  Enter the pusher man, saying, "Take a pill!".

The pill kills something which halts much of the cell production.   A makeshift off switch, which one learns to control properly through dosage experimentation and adjustment. Doing so well that we just keep doing what we're doing for another 3 months.  I bet the dosage gets cut in half then.

It is kind of cool, however it seems to me that the whole stem cell situation could be manipulated on a molecular scale,   Un-mutation seems possible to me.

Crazy world.  Some physicians resent it mightily if you dare not have  a primary care doctor.  The think everyone has the time and money to work it out as they see fit.

Summary

I keep writing things, then deciding they are too whatever, so I revert them to "draft" status where they won't see the light of day.

Anyway, I play a cd release party with a guy who has a song on an album by various veterans around the country. I don't know the whole deal. It will be OK.

Then Friday night I play a place with the band. Never known anyone who loved to sing more than Sande.

It is a challenge for me to keep up with what I have to do.  Maybe that is what it takes for me to appreciate things, and make some effort. I think that is the case.  And I'm optimistic, cheerful, and curious.  No telling what is next.

Wow. Are People That Angry?

So, being a nincompoop I was on FB, facebook, el libro de la cara, The Devil, and I noticed something; there are many poster looking posts with things like, "I'm not sad because you are gone, I'm just disappointed to see you for who you really are.  And I mourn for the wasted time I spent with you".

Really.  I made that up, and it is a toned down version of that theme.  The theme being, if you did not stay with me, or I chose to leave, you suck and I am now empowered.

Few will admit the truth.  I will.  I am alone because I am an idiot.  Not because I picked the wrong ones or any of that garbage.  Geez, I'm the "wrong one" that they talk about--"won't make that mistake again.  No more perfect guys for me!!"   I'm sure that's how it goes.

Maybe not.  I may have placed the word "perfect" where another adjective or two  would be better suited.

But why are so many people posting and circulating slogans that are all about how any conflict in life is because everyone but you (whoever is posting) is evil?  Or they are stupid, worthless, shallow, undeserving vermin.

There seems to be a real effort to cultivate anger.  As if all the righteous indignation over manufactured dramas elevates one into some elite category of intelligentsia.   But what we have is dimwittery.  Ever popular, and to some a form of consolation.  I'm sorry people find such things cool, reasonable and worth sharing.

People, overall, tend to treat me well enough.  There are those who warrant avoidance.

To me, it looks like a way for people, who find dumb drama and anger a hobby,  to beat others to the "screw you and I don't care" punch.

Anger is so overrated as a passtime and as a way to earn respect.

Yea, Right!!

Much of my life and the episodes therein, fall into the if-you-didn't-see-it-for-yourself-you-would't-believe-it category.  That leaves me with a challenge; how do I keep the story interesting, yet tone it down so as not to stretch credulity.   De-dramatizing the truth can often make it more believable.

Cremated

If they do kill me, I want to be cremated, and tossed out in the Caribbean.   If that can't be arranged, then scatter me over the best looking, and nicest unmarried women I know.  You'll have to make that up as you go.