It seems very depressing to consider describing my real life, so I think I should take time off---from what, I am unsure--and imagine how it would be if it were not depressing. Then I will write that instead.
I should create a fantasy life and convince myself it is real. Maybe it is possible to so convince one's self that he is living a certain life that when they come and take one away, he will never realize he has moved to a rubber room. In his mind he is on vacation with the wife, possibly visiting his wonderful grown children and, maybe, a grandchild or two.
All this can happen if he can take time away from his many obligations involving consulting with misguided governments and others regarding water and energy solutions which do not automatically glorify a retarded or intentionally poor standard of living. Not to mention the banquets of award and recognition. But, family first in this life unlived.
Time to clean house, and find that weight appropriate parasail. And perhaps the ultimate sedatives. The truth is not that great and may not be tolerable for a whole lot longer.
Fantasy is better. In reality, I do not want to see family, for a host of reasons which I hate to even list in my mind, silently. So, I won't list them here. I often think some things are of the past and not likely to ever occur again, such as Christmas with relatives and visits. I can't do it.
I know I started out with the makings of a good person. The boat was missed and I do not believe I fulfilled that potential. Not the worst one ever, but not much of a good person, in reality. Just a dunce.
And I am pretty sure they have missed much of what is making my blood so lousy I cannot even give it away. That is almost irrelevant though. The worst of all diseases is not living up to one's standards. My reasons may involve believing others knew what they were talking about or not understanding sadistic jealousy, etc. Changes nothing. I'm just another casualty of the big pretense and some other things. As a result, I hurt plenty of people, thinking they had no feelings or vulnerabilities. That was very wrong.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
No Exclamation Really Fits
In that scenario it is just a quick wash as maybe you steady yourself with a hand on the parapet. But in a life gone off the tracks it can last, almost a lifetime.
Telling myself it is never too late doesn't do it anymore. When it is too late, it simply is. And it can scare the hell out of a person.
Maybe this is the cowardly aspect they talk about when those who actually have no clue try to assess suicide people as having taken "the coward's way out". I consider those who go along with the crowd, no matter what, as the true cowards, but that is another story. They run the world, or allow it to be run. Herd animals at their finest...
Last thing I would ever want is the suicide path, but I do not think everyone has a choice. You'd be surprised what your mind and body can manufacture; fear, pain, confusion, suffocating loss of hope. Those can push someone over the edge--literally. All one can do is to hope that he can be some benefit to others who deserve it, and forget what a wasted and hopeless existence he has built. Or just wandered into, like a rootless vagabond; a dead leaf blowing in the breeze come fall.
So, I am in a band with some nice and some strange people. One of the members is successful, and not such a misfit. She used to head up the arts and music for a very large school district--one of those "unified" deals. It paid big bucks I think. She has a long term marriage and, to me, has it all together.
The rest of us are weirdos. Sorry, but we are. The main person struck me as gay, but she isn't. She just likes that boyish look. I get no vibe whatsoever that she likes women in that way, but she seems to eschew feminine accouterments as well. She has a long term marriage so she has more sense than I do, I guess. Then we have an alleged woman who was apparently born male and I have not reached down to see if a surgical procedure has been performed.
People go, "Hey, that chick playing bass for you guys is a dude!" What can I say? She never told me she was not a chick. But I guess I thought the same thing. I have no desire whatsoever to even discuss the situation. The actual women in the group seem to be all sympathetic and almost over the top PC about the issue. I just find "her" a little arrogant and off-putting. Good player, in a way.
That brings me to something I have learned about playing. There are very musically educated, skilled players, and there are players who know how to play off of others, and always listen to everyone on stage. This one has the creds, Berklee music school, etc., but seems aloof, superior, and kind of isolated. That symbiotic thing is missing, although she is highly regarded in the jazz circles around here. So, maybe I am just a bigoted and mistaken soul. Probably not.
It makes for one odd looking music group. And I believe it is our downfall. Got to wonder when people say to me, "Oh, you're playing xyz next week?", and I say yes. And they say, "I wish it was just you and leave the others at home." No, please, I do not want to carry that. That hurts me more than flatters.
I guess I'd rather play with gender confused women and alleged women than the typical middle aged "I have to have just the right tattoo, the exact right hair and goatee, the bandana, and pretend to be badass" blues/rock players. What conformist nonsense. There is a conformity to it, right down to the lingo, and mindless causes. Of course, that is the natural and right look for some I guess.
But the attitude of , "I'm a rebel" is diluted a bit if you are as indistinguishable from the others as an Anonymous convention with hundreds of Guy Fawkeses.
Really. I am so over the skulls and whatever the Texas Longhorn finger thing means in a rock context.
There are a lot of people and cultures that seem more legitimate candidates for suicide than I am. So why is it so hard to get through the day? Why the paralysis? If I told you what I think, you would jeer and say I was a wimp. I believe it was the lies I was told from infancy by my borther about my lack of worth, and my parents' tacit agreement. The only people I trusted programmed me so well that I have failed to thwart it.
But like the trans whatever person in our group, if anyone else messed with the person I would be the first and fiercest in his defense. But those people whom I defend rarely know it or appreciate it. Clueless bastards, all of them.
Friday, August 14, 2015
Dear Old School Cubans in the nominally Free World
Unbelievable.
Castro, and no doubt plenty of self hating guilty liberal fools, want the US to pay them back for not trading with Cuba under Castro (after they murdered thousands, stole and nationalized American interests and property as well as Cuban interests and property)
That brings me to the thing that is the flaw of socialism enforced by the state--it relies on forced distribution of wealth and resources, according to the whims and vision of those with the guns. Legal theft and bullying. On a personal level, be as generous as you see fit. But do not put a gun to your neighbor's head forcing him to comply with your view of compassion, etc.
IDIOTA del mundo
So, a mass murdering, lying, thieving thug, who has lived well while the people he rules live in poverty, wants us to pay him. He does not want to return what he took, answer for the murder of defenseless innocents, or answer for why he misled the people who supported revolution, thinking they were getting a free constitutional republic.
Please send me in to take him out. I am fine with probably not living through it. I am the guy they need for this. Nothing to lose and I need to get out of here.
I haven't checked to see what dumbass things Kerry must be saying down there at the embassy opening. Already I sense the progressive slant is that "we" somehow did horrible stuff to Castro and his lunatics. He stole from everyone.
Our own government shut down every Cuban initiative to try to organize in S.Florida to go take their island back. It was some deal made in the early days by JFK. In order to keep them and Russia from thumbing their nose making us look bad, he threw the uprooted Cubans under the '53 Chevy.
Things I have seen from snarky internet badasses who love dictators like Fidel and the late great Hugo astound me. Obviously many of them have no idea the lengths our government went to, to prevent the Cubans from overthrowing the murdering bully rapist thug.
Why it is Hollywood chic to sidle up to thieving murdering thugs because they claim to champion the "little people" is beyond me. They ignore the blood on their heroes' hands entirely. Almost as if they tacitly relish the pain and torture inflicted by such dictators. They ignore the dissidents imprisoned and the people executed and mistreated. The seem to enjoy sharing the dais with the thugs and pretending those others had it coming.
In reality, Rodman going over to hang out with Kim Jong Un is no more stupid and crazy than Sean Penn with Hugo Chavez and others with Castro. It is purely the bigotry of the self hating wing of the progressive movement that draws a distinction; hispanic is currently cool and badass, bad haircut Korean is not cool. They are racists.
Anyway, I would be more comfortable being dropped into Cuba to do mischief than Korea, although N Korea is in greater need. I am bigoted too. People in that part of the world scare me. They eat bird's nests and cats-boiled alive.
So punish me for my bigotry and send me in to do something stupid with no chance I won't get shot.
I'll never change anyone's mind. The homespun, populist, "common sense" BS holds too much appeal for people. Usually because it justifies theft, vengeance and power over others in a homespun, feel-good, middle-of-the-crowd sense of safety and belonging.
*******
“Hemingway hailed Castro’s revolution as ‘very pure and beautiful,'” Fontova said. “He was also a guest of honor at many of Che Guevara’s firing squad massacres. Hemingway loved to watch Che’s firing squads murder hundreds of Cubans. Hemingway would watch the massacres from a picnic chair while sipping Daiquiris.”
Fontova’s source for this troubling detail of Hemingway’s life is a former employee of late Paris Review editor George Plimpton who says his traumatized boss once told him how Hemingway took him to one such fire squad social gathering.
Never heard this assertion refuted. Many talented artists, and even some brilliant intellectuals are philosophically bankrupt and otherwise, total idiots.
Castro, and no doubt plenty of self hating guilty liberal fools, want the US to pay them back for not trading with Cuba under Castro (after they murdered thousands, stole and nationalized American interests and property as well as Cuban interests and property)
That brings me to the thing that is the flaw of socialism enforced by the state--it relies on forced distribution of wealth and resources, according to the whims and vision of those with the guns. Legal theft and bullying. On a personal level, be as generous as you see fit. But do not put a gun to your neighbor's head forcing him to comply with your view of compassion, etc.
IDIOTA del mundo
Really. Every time I see it I want to say it again: IDIOT!!
But I have noticed, even in my little nobody, nothing, corner of the music world, that there is often this assumption that you support mob action and whatever, just because. There is no real thought goes into it. But disagree and you are looked upon as worthy of the firing squad. Even if they have no real case in their favor beyond the intimidation of peer pressure.
So, a mass murdering, lying, thieving thug, who has lived well while the people he rules live in poverty, wants us to pay him. He does not want to return what he took, answer for the murder of defenseless innocents, or answer for why he misled the people who supported revolution, thinking they were getting a free constitutional republic.
this, I believe is Raul Castro--(the one standing)
Please send me in to take him out. I am fine with probably not living through it. I am the guy they need for this. Nothing to lose and I need to get out of here.
I haven't checked to see what dumbass things Kerry must be saying down there at the embassy opening. Already I sense the progressive slant is that "we" somehow did horrible stuff to Castro and his lunatics. He stole from everyone.
Our own government shut down every Cuban initiative to try to organize in S.Florida to go take their island back. It was some deal made in the early days by JFK. In order to keep them and Russia from thumbing their nose making us look bad, he threw the uprooted Cubans under the '53 Chevy.
Things I have seen from snarky internet badasses who love dictators like Fidel and the late great Hugo astound me. Obviously many of them have no idea the lengths our government went to, to prevent the Cubans from overthrowing the murdering bully rapist thug.
Why it is Hollywood chic to sidle up to thieving murdering thugs because they claim to champion the "little people" is beyond me. They ignore the blood on their heroes' hands entirely. Almost as if they tacitly relish the pain and torture inflicted by such dictators. They ignore the dissidents imprisoned and the people executed and mistreated. The seem to enjoy sharing the dais with the thugs and pretending those others had it coming.
One of my favs: Fidel discussing the finer points of agriculture with a local farmer along the way to Havana
In reality, Rodman going over to hang out with Kim Jong Un is no more stupid and crazy than Sean Penn with Hugo Chavez and others with Castro. It is purely the bigotry of the self hating wing of the progressive movement that draws a distinction; hispanic is currently cool and badass, bad haircut Korean is not cool. They are racists.
Anyway, I would be more comfortable being dropped into Cuba to do mischief than Korea, although N Korea is in greater need. I am bigoted too. People in that part of the world scare me. They eat bird's nests and cats-boiled alive.
So punish me for my bigotry and send me in to do something stupid with no chance I won't get shot.
I'll never change anyone's mind. The homespun, populist, "common sense" BS holds too much appeal for people. Usually because it justifies theft, vengeance and power over others in a homespun, feel-good, middle-of-the-crowd sense of safety and belonging.
*******
“Hemingway hailed Castro’s revolution as ‘very pure and beautiful,'” Fontova said. “He was also a guest of honor at many of Che Guevara’s firing squad massacres. Hemingway loved to watch Che’s firing squads murder hundreds of Cubans. Hemingway would watch the massacres from a picnic chair while sipping Daiquiris.”
Fontova’s source for this troubling detail of Hemingway’s life is a former employee of late Paris Review editor George Plimpton who says his traumatized boss once told him how Hemingway took him to one such fire squad social gathering.
Never heard this assertion refuted. Many talented artists, and even some brilliant intellectuals are philosophically bankrupt and otherwise, total idiots.
Life Is a Little Rich for My Blood
This woman (married) with whom I play music says, "Oh I feel so bad for Bob X, he is really hurting being alone". Me--What?
"He really wants someone in his life again. I feel sorry for him."
Me: No shit!! So poor Bob is to be pitied for being alone? He ran his wife off, and you are expressing pity for him, to me, of all people? WTF? Like I am going to commiserate with you about poor Bob.
Do you have a clue as to how much my life sucks? How it really, really sucks? I made it this way, so I don't deserve or want pity. Pity is an insult. But poor Bob, he couldn't keep the old broad around and she hit the road. She has one story and he has another.
Made me want to scream from the rooftops, "F*** YOU ALL! I QUIT! I CANNOT DO IT ANY MORE! I have no hope that I will ever make it right."
Maybe the mutation happened because my body wanted to distract me from my real woes. If there had not been any positive result on the JAK2 mutant thing, I would be sure I created all this. I still think so.
I also think they have a close but incorrect diagnosis. Obviously there is bone marrow disorder because the cells are screwy, even when the numbers are right. Poor quality red blood cells.
But polycythemia is overabundance of red blood cells, and I have yet to see that. I have too many white ones and platelets, left to my own devices. They were sure I was bleeding out somewhere inside which kept the red ones from being too high. I doubt it.
It is some other issue.
I'm sick of the arrogant elitist oncologist/hematologist. I dread whenever the next appointment is. Last time I described some symptoms and he says, "Oh that has nothing to do with this--meaning blood results and chemo to keep too many of various types of cells from being produced.
The fact is those symptoms had everything to do with "this"; blood values and drug reaction. What a pansy. He said that because he only wants to look at blood numbers, has zero empathy, and assumes he is far smarter and "better" than his patients.
I did some looking and it appears he's from South Africa. From the French speaking part, I think. I worked with a guy like that. That have a class system instilled which an old fashioned American can't comprehend.
That is before bears became people too, and a number of other pretenses gained purchase.
I would not have known to take this stuff I was prescribed, hydrea, but I would have know to put the dose where we are now. And I would not have let it go three months and discounted the calls I mede after six weeks describing symptoms which I now see were clear indicators to cut the dose.
It was to a point where I was considering growing a beard, which I did not want to do, because every time I shaved I would later bleed from little dots on my face. Just too little clotting capability because the pill had depleted things to a very risky level.
I go by what I think from now on, and just one more arrogant remark from this jerk and I let him have it and either stop the medical treatment altogether or find another person. Everything relates and he tries to say everything I bring up is a separate issue. Purely afraid of engaging and doing anything besides ordering labs and hiding from the patient. As mad as I am becoming, that may a good plan for him.
I am going broke. Really goddamed broke.
I will somehow get that hang glider/parasail, some highly potent pain and/or sleeping pills and find the highest launch point I can, and that is that. I can't live on the street because this condition is like torture when you cannot escape the elements, heat, etc. And I do not want to live that way.
But the rope is at the end again. Only this time I think it really is.
I am angry at how I have botched a perfectly good life. Even though I am angry at relatives who I think secretly hate me for being a failure and a waste, I hate myself for it, too. But I'd never be such a prick to others about it. But that is a good part of how it came about anyway--had to be there.
What a waste. I should not be this way. Too late to fix it. That sucks. Playing some high school reunion thing on sunday afternoon. Outdoors. We are getting friggin 90 and 100 degree days., That is sure to be crazy. I suspect they will do an abbreviated version of what they have planned and that will be that. I am not even getting paid. I can't afford this any more.
And I am too under the cement slab of me to be able to think or do the work to find paying gigs.
It's always darkest after I open my eyes, before the dawn or no.
"He really wants someone in his life again. I feel sorry for him."
Me: No shit!! So poor Bob is to be pitied for being alone? He ran his wife off, and you are expressing pity for him, to me, of all people? WTF? Like I am going to commiserate with you about poor Bob.
Do you have a clue as to how much my life sucks? How it really, really sucks? I made it this way, so I don't deserve or want pity. Pity is an insult. But poor Bob, he couldn't keep the old broad around and she hit the road. She has one story and he has another.
Made me want to scream from the rooftops, "F*** YOU ALL! I QUIT! I CANNOT DO IT ANY MORE! I have no hope that I will ever make it right."
Maybe the mutation happened because my body wanted to distract me from my real woes. If there had not been any positive result on the JAK2 mutant thing, I would be sure I created all this. I still think so.
I also think they have a close but incorrect diagnosis. Obviously there is bone marrow disorder because the cells are screwy, even when the numbers are right. Poor quality red blood cells.
But polycythemia is overabundance of red blood cells, and I have yet to see that. I have too many white ones and platelets, left to my own devices. They were sure I was bleeding out somewhere inside which kept the red ones from being too high. I doubt it.
It is some other issue.
I'm sick of the arrogant elitist oncologist/hematologist. I dread whenever the next appointment is. Last time I described some symptoms and he says, "Oh that has nothing to do with this--meaning blood results and chemo to keep too many of various types of cells from being produced.
The fact is those symptoms had everything to do with "this"; blood values and drug reaction. What a pansy. He said that because he only wants to look at blood numbers, has zero empathy, and assumes he is far smarter and "better" than his patients.
I did some looking and it appears he's from South Africa. From the French speaking part, I think. I worked with a guy like that. That have a class system instilled which an old fashioned American can't comprehend.
That is before bears became people too, and a number of other pretenses gained purchase.
I would not have known to take this stuff I was prescribed, hydrea, but I would have know to put the dose where we are now. And I would not have let it go three months and discounted the calls I mede after six weeks describing symptoms which I now see were clear indicators to cut the dose.
It was to a point where I was considering growing a beard, which I did not want to do, because every time I shaved I would later bleed from little dots on my face. Just too little clotting capability because the pill had depleted things to a very risky level.
I go by what I think from now on, and just one more arrogant remark from this jerk and I let him have it and either stop the medical treatment altogether or find another person. Everything relates and he tries to say everything I bring up is a separate issue. Purely afraid of engaging and doing anything besides ordering labs and hiding from the patient. As mad as I am becoming, that may a good plan for him.
I am going broke. Really goddamed broke.
I will somehow get that hang glider/parasail, some highly potent pain and/or sleeping pills and find the highest launch point I can, and that is that. I can't live on the street because this condition is like torture when you cannot escape the elements, heat, etc. And I do not want to live that way.
But the rope is at the end again. Only this time I think it really is.
I am angry at how I have botched a perfectly good life. Even though I am angry at relatives who I think secretly hate me for being a failure and a waste, I hate myself for it, too. But I'd never be such a prick to others about it. But that is a good part of how it came about anyway--had to be there.
What a waste. I should not be this way. Too late to fix it. That sucks. Playing some high school reunion thing on sunday afternoon. Outdoors. We are getting friggin 90 and 100 degree days., That is sure to be crazy. I suspect they will do an abbreviated version of what they have planned and that will be that. I am not even getting paid. I can't afford this any more.
And I am too under the cement slab of me to be able to think or do the work to find paying gigs.
It's always darkest after I open my eyes, before the dawn or no.
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Several Steps Removed From Human
It just struck me; I really like the people I met through my blogging in days gone by. Even the chick that shook me down in the southern hemisphere. But, really, I have connected with very cool people through the blog.
Some I never met face to face, but I did collaborate on a piece of music with a Canadian. If I ever get up there, we'll meet, and it will be cool.
On FB however. I have yet to actually make a real friend as a result of facebook. That may be because you can only aggregate links and other people's posts, but nothing too lengthy. This paragraph is pushing it on length, in faceland.
Yet people will argue and raise all kinds of hell about nothing. Or who knows what. Shallow things are addictive. As long as I understand that, I can better understand why I am spending my time stating opinions and reading about stuff that is irrelevant, yet emotional.
The days of journalspace really were quite different. I feel different. Some of that is not really a good thing.
All of a sudden I have an idea forming. It is related to all this. There are things that were cool then but a duplicate is not in order now. But I think I see a trend and a way to flow with it. I better remember to think this through some more when I have the chance and the energy.
Has to do with delivery I think.
Some I never met face to face, but I did collaborate on a piece of music with a Canadian. If I ever get up there, we'll meet, and it will be cool.
On FB however. I have yet to actually make a real friend as a result of facebook. That may be because you can only aggregate links and other people's posts, but nothing too lengthy. This paragraph is pushing it on length, in faceland.
Yet people will argue and raise all kinds of hell about nothing. Or who knows what. Shallow things are addictive. As long as I understand that, I can better understand why I am spending my time stating opinions and reading about stuff that is irrelevant, yet emotional.
The days of journalspace really were quite different. I feel different. Some of that is not really a good thing.
All of a sudden I have an idea forming. It is related to all this. There are things that were cool then but a duplicate is not in order now. But I think I see a trend and a way to flow with it. I better remember to think this through some more when I have the chance and the energy.
Has to do with delivery I think.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
They're Back!!
It was the day of the spark plugs, yesterday. Though a demon of sadness was trying to have its way with me, once I got rolling I noticed more energy as the day progressed. More than I've had in awhile.
Ifigue being off the poison pill for a week and various values would improve. I think maybe some improved more than enough. Today at work I discovered that, once again, just barely break a sweat and the attack is on and the body's thermostat takes a hike. It's like random nerve endings being hit from the inside with a tiny hot torch than never stops moving, and in an unpredictable pattern.
Fortunately no one else was at work. Many times I said "ouch" out loud followed by expletives and prayers and curses. Just like the old days.
This is why everything should be available over the counter. And easier access to lab procedures would be nice. I would have done a cbc a month ago and avoided this over correcting form of trial and error. If 30 days cut the number almost in half, what do you think another 90 is going to do?
I cannot believe the attitude. My theory is that he wanted to see how far down in would go. For his own curiosity. Not my well being. It is important to watch these people. Not to be rude to them or argumentative, but just to get it right. They really do not know.
If I could get what I want over the counter, I'd start back on the poison pill but half the dose or less. And I would get muscle relaxer for other things. Because I had to get the stuff from friends and it is all that stopped esophageal spasms. That or pain pills.
Drac won't admit anything is at all related to his field except blood values. Forget dealing with the ramifications of those values. He ain't prescribing anything to help you work with convulsions, shooting pain, etc.
Anyway, Dr. Chickenman. Dracula is a CYA sissy. But like designing the schedule so that I was sure to end up critically low on platelet value, I sometimes thing my discomfort pleases him. He may get the blood balanced, but I think the fact he pretend no discomfort is related pleases him in some perverse way. He's a good blood doctor, I guess. He's published many scholarly papers on various types of cells etc.. But I sense he is a sadist who likes to watch you squirm while he pretends he can't help. Maybe I am too harsh. I am not so sure.
My opinion of the medical world is complicated. The equipment and the most sane of the people are awesome. But there is the extreme bureaucracy and incompetence on some levels, in some places. The industry is rife with extremes, and they are weighted toward extremely insane and/or incompetent, or just plain cold and cruel.
Up to me I would have cut the dose a moth or more ago. I did mention it in a phone call about weird bruising. Oh no, don't change the dose. Not only are doctors not God, half the time they are not even cognizant of the information in your folder, which they hold in their hand during a visit. Maybe they can't read. Or don't like to. More fun to look at the patient and guess.
These attacks take it out of me. Fortunately I was able to use a very hot shower on site.
That works for some reason. Normall I could not tolerate such hot water. It is a weird thing.
Ifigue being off the poison pill for a week and various values would improve. I think maybe some improved more than enough. Today at work I discovered that, once again, just barely break a sweat and the attack is on and the body's thermostat takes a hike. It's like random nerve endings being hit from the inside with a tiny hot torch than never stops moving, and in an unpredictable pattern.
Fortunately no one else was at work. Many times I said "ouch" out loud followed by expletives and prayers and curses. Just like the old days.
This is why everything should be available over the counter. And easier access to lab procedures would be nice. I would have done a cbc a month ago and avoided this over correcting form of trial and error. If 30 days cut the number almost in half, what do you think another 90 is going to do?
I cannot believe the attitude. My theory is that he wanted to see how far down in would go. For his own curiosity. Not my well being. It is important to watch these people. Not to be rude to them or argumentative, but just to get it right. They really do not know.
If I could get what I want over the counter, I'd start back on the poison pill but half the dose or less. And I would get muscle relaxer for other things. Because I had to get the stuff from friends and it is all that stopped esophageal spasms. That or pain pills.
Drac won't admit anything is at all related to his field except blood values. Forget dealing with the ramifications of those values. He ain't prescribing anything to help you work with convulsions, shooting pain, etc.
Anyway, Dr. Chickenman. Dracula is a CYA sissy. But like designing the schedule so that I was sure to end up critically low on platelet value, I sometimes thing my discomfort pleases him. He may get the blood balanced, but I think the fact he pretend no discomfort is related pleases him in some perverse way. He's a good blood doctor, I guess. He's published many scholarly papers on various types of cells etc.. But I sense he is a sadist who likes to watch you squirm while he pretends he can't help. Maybe I am too harsh. I am not so sure.
My opinion of the medical world is complicated. The equipment and the most sane of the people are awesome. But there is the extreme bureaucracy and incompetence on some levels, in some places. The industry is rife with extremes, and they are weighted toward extremely insane and/or incompetent, or just plain cold and cruel.
Up to me I would have cut the dose a moth or more ago. I did mention it in a phone call about weird bruising. Oh no, don't change the dose. Not only are doctors not God, half the time they are not even cognizant of the information in your folder, which they hold in their hand during a visit. Maybe they can't read. Or don't like to. More fun to look at the patient and guess.
These attacks take it out of me. Fortunately I was able to use a very hot shower on site.
That works for some reason. Normall I could not tolerate such hot water. It is a weird thing.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Fuquits of the World Unite!!!
Oh, never mind. They already have.
Believe me, the California redneck is a different animal altogether.
I'm so depressed. I think I will move back east in another year.
Believe me, the California redneck is a different animal altogether.
I'm so depressed. I think I will move back east in another year.
Friday, July 31, 2015
I Get Why They Hate Their Own
The world is not filled with bright people, on average. Although there are some who are astonishingly intelligent and creative, and they account for the reason we don't suffer more than we do. They managed to create ways to overcome the hazards of nature in spite of the hostile lack of comprehension on the part of their fellow humans.
I think it is because they like humans, even though they are often ingrates and dolts. I doubt much worthwhile progress is truly made by the legions of misanthropes who are everywhere and of every description, type and subgroup.
I heard that 60% of people would save their dog from a speeding bus over another human-a stranger. I like dogs but find this an odd choice. But it is way cool to be down on the human race and pretend animals are all about utopia and bliss. They are either running around trying not to be eaten, or they are stalking other animals in hopes of eating them. Some even kill for reasons to do with territory or maybe even sport, and not food.
Nature and its lovely creatures are dangerous and homicidal. Or they are constantly running from the killers. But it is unnatural for members of one species to hate their kind. It seems odd for people.
If you hate people, and you are a person, then do yourself in. If you do others in your life will be even worse than it is. Even the misanthropic chic hate serial killers and mass murderers.
We have had radical chic, limousine liberal syndrome, and now misanthrope chic. It is cool to pretend you hate humans, and to discuss it as if you are somehow above the fray and exempt. So righteous. Barf.
Once again I commented on FB and people were too defensive and flat out stupid to get it.
Some crazy girl was twerking and ended up on fire. Long story, se the film. Anyway it was shared. It was obviously not originate where I saw it. The original caption is "white girls twerk? #not" or something about like that the part after # is questionable, but intent the same. Generalizing about white girls based on this flaming chick.
All I said is why did it have to be presented as racial. Oh geez. The guy denied it was at all racial. If you bring up race, and generalize and the event is in no way specific to that race, it is racial. Jayseus H Cristo! Now he's all pissed and saying "Oh I'm just a racist asshole, etc." ??? Too dumb to see that it was racial when they brought up white girls this and that. And too dumb to know I did not call him racist. Also too dumb to realize the original caption being addressed wasn't his, although he did parrot it.
You bring up race and I find it irrelevant or offensive or tired or stupid, I will ask why. Every once in awhile I have to blow off steam of this sort. You can sandbag and play dumb for only so long. Eventually the dimwitted will get to you, especially if they are unaware of the dimwittery, and they have a bit of a chip on their shoulder about how smart people are lacking in common sense or some such garbage. I play along with dimwits and then I once in awhile actually say some of what I see or think and they get offended. And I do not regret it.
I think it is because they like humans, even though they are often ingrates and dolts. I doubt much worthwhile progress is truly made by the legions of misanthropes who are everywhere and of every description, type and subgroup.
I heard that 60% of people would save their dog from a speeding bus over another human-a stranger. I like dogs but find this an odd choice. But it is way cool to be down on the human race and pretend animals are all about utopia and bliss. They are either running around trying not to be eaten, or they are stalking other animals in hopes of eating them. Some even kill for reasons to do with territory or maybe even sport, and not food.
Nature and its lovely creatures are dangerous and homicidal. Or they are constantly running from the killers. But it is unnatural for members of one species to hate their kind. It seems odd for people.
If you hate people, and you are a person, then do yourself in. If you do others in your life will be even worse than it is. Even the misanthropic chic hate serial killers and mass murderers.
We have had radical chic, limousine liberal syndrome, and now misanthrope chic. It is cool to pretend you hate humans, and to discuss it as if you are somehow above the fray and exempt. So righteous. Barf.
Once again I commented on FB and people were too defensive and flat out stupid to get it.
Some crazy girl was twerking and ended up on fire. Long story, se the film. Anyway it was shared. It was obviously not originate where I saw it. The original caption is "white girls twerk? #not" or something about like that the part after # is questionable, but intent the same. Generalizing about white girls based on this flaming chick.
All I said is why did it have to be presented as racial. Oh geez. The guy denied it was at all racial. If you bring up race, and generalize and the event is in no way specific to that race, it is racial. Jayseus H Cristo! Now he's all pissed and saying "Oh I'm just a racist asshole, etc." ??? Too dumb to see that it was racial when they brought up white girls this and that. And too dumb to know I did not call him racist. Also too dumb to realize the original caption being addressed wasn't his, although he did parrot it.
You bring up race and I find it irrelevant or offensive or tired or stupid, I will ask why. Every once in awhile I have to blow off steam of this sort. You can sandbag and play dumb for only so long. Eventually the dimwitted will get to you, especially if they are unaware of the dimwittery, and they have a bit of a chip on their shoulder about how smart people are lacking in common sense or some such garbage. I play along with dimwits and then I once in awhile actually say some of what I see or think and they get offended. And I do not regret it.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Even Mutants Get The Blues
We played the House of Blues and it finally dawned on me that this was actually a half baked goal, like in Memphis I wanted to play Beale Street, and at least one time, BB King's club. And I did. BB's club is kind of less fun than expected. But I can say I did it.
Early in my San Diego experience a woman named Lynn had nephew who was playing HOB and I thought that was impressive. Now I've done it a couple of times. It is a good place. I certainly like it better than BB's. Far more real.
It is just one of the threads to prevent me from giving in to fear, depression, and worse. So much needs doing but apparently due to the mutation in my cell manufacturing control system, I am good for about ten minutes unless the temperature is well under sixty deg. F. Even then muscle fatigue is quick. With finesse, I can plod through once I get rolling.
Lately, in this heat, getting rolling is tough. Two minutes and overheated. And my car is acting up too. Dammit. You have no idea how tedious it is trying to maintain rather than go off into the wilderness in some misguided tour born of delirium and angst.
But, I am a bona fide badass, so I will show them. And they'll be sorry they ever tried to ruin my life. Well, they did ruin my life. If I'd have had better sense, I would not have allowed it. And it is not quite over. I often wonder how this stupid medical bs will play out. I do not think it a good idea to totally walk away from it. But geez, it dominates all. I must change that.
Bunch of women had nice things to say to me after our last House of Blues appearance. I love it when that happens. The kind attention of women cannot be replaced with anything else to equal effect. And you can take that to the bank. In my book!
Early in my San Diego experience a woman named Lynn had nephew who was playing HOB and I thought that was impressive. Now I've done it a couple of times. It is a good place. I certainly like it better than BB's. Far more real.
It is just one of the threads to prevent me from giving in to fear, depression, and worse. So much needs doing but apparently due to the mutation in my cell manufacturing control system, I am good for about ten minutes unless the temperature is well under sixty deg. F. Even then muscle fatigue is quick. With finesse, I can plod through once I get rolling.
Lately, in this heat, getting rolling is tough. Two minutes and overheated. And my car is acting up too. Dammit. You have no idea how tedious it is trying to maintain rather than go off into the wilderness in some misguided tour born of delirium and angst.
But, I am a bona fide badass, so I will show them. And they'll be sorry they ever tried to ruin my life. Well, they did ruin my life. If I'd have had better sense, I would not have allowed it. And it is not quite over. I often wonder how this stupid medical bs will play out. I do not think it a good idea to totally walk away from it. But geez, it dominates all. I must change that.
Bunch of women had nice things to say to me after our last House of Blues appearance. I love it when that happens. The kind attention of women cannot be replaced with anything else to equal effect. And you can take that to the bank. In my book!
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Along For The Ride
If it isn't too many, it is too few. That is how the world of stuff in my blood goes. So from way too many platelets, we now have dangerously low number . And there is the anemia talk still.
I'll have to again be more proactive. I forgot to make them give me lab reports last time. They agreed to mail them and get me hooked into a web portal for records and more. We'll see. They screw up a lot. They seem unclear about what you have done. Or even who you are.
It is crazy. Dracula will have my folder in his hand and ask a question that should be very evident from the records. Scary. Never assume that the big medical outfits have it right. Even if you feel so bad you can't read without great effort, you are the only quality control for your care. Just a fact.
I have caught them screwing up more than once, and I am not one who is usually a complainer in most places like that. You have to be vigilant or they will mistakenly remove things you want to keep; various genital parts, spleen, kidney, you name it.
Anyway, it is quite obvious we have some blood issues due to the odd bruises which appear and linger. Other stuff like reaction to heat etc. could be just mental so I can't go too far on that.
I will get the info then see what Drac has to say about maybe a lower dose of hydrea, and then figure out on my own how to make things work better. I certainly won't discount Dracula's take on things, but I won't leave it not investigated, either.
So, for the second time, I played House of Blues. I believe I made a small impression. Who knows. Not sure what I think about the group. I still believe we are not doing ourselves justice. We need to take this material and weave really memorable music around it. Good as the lyrics are, many of the tunes tend to bore people a bit, judging from my observations and feedback from anonymous sources. Of course the anonymous sources think I should be highlighted more, etc. I am not so sure of that. Do not want redundancy or too much of highlighting anyone.
A little flattery is nice, but I know what's what. To go further I do know what we need. It would require yet another personnel change I think.
Right now I best mind my own business. I had to try to rest all day just to be up for the one hour show. And I was. I still prefer two hour shows which demand a lot from me. If I am not physically drained like I've run a marathon, I feel a little disappointed, even when the one hour is the best ever.
It gets hot in SoCal as soon as you go to far east to see the ocean.
I'll have to again be more proactive. I forgot to make them give me lab reports last time. They agreed to mail them and get me hooked into a web portal for records and more. We'll see. They screw up a lot. They seem unclear about what you have done. Or even who you are.
It is crazy. Dracula will have my folder in his hand and ask a question that should be very evident from the records. Scary. Never assume that the big medical outfits have it right. Even if you feel so bad you can't read without great effort, you are the only quality control for your care. Just a fact.
I have caught them screwing up more than once, and I am not one who is usually a complainer in most places like that. You have to be vigilant or they will mistakenly remove things you want to keep; various genital parts, spleen, kidney, you name it.
Anyway, it is quite obvious we have some blood issues due to the odd bruises which appear and linger. Other stuff like reaction to heat etc. could be just mental so I can't go too far on that.
I will get the info then see what Drac has to say about maybe a lower dose of hydrea, and then figure out on my own how to make things work better. I certainly won't discount Dracula's take on things, but I won't leave it not investigated, either.
So, for the second time, I played House of Blues. I believe I made a small impression. Who knows. Not sure what I think about the group. I still believe we are not doing ourselves justice. We need to take this material and weave really memorable music around it. Good as the lyrics are, many of the tunes tend to bore people a bit, judging from my observations and feedback from anonymous sources. Of course the anonymous sources think I should be highlighted more, etc. I am not so sure of that. Do not want redundancy or too much of highlighting anyone.
A little flattery is nice, but I know what's what. To go further I do know what we need. It would require yet another personnel change I think.
Right now I best mind my own business. I had to try to rest all day just to be up for the one hour show. And I was. I still prefer two hour shows which demand a lot from me. If I am not physically drained like I've run a marathon, I feel a little disappointed, even when the one hour is the best ever.
It gets hot in SoCal as soon as you go to far east to see the ocean.
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About Me
- John0 Juanderlust
- Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
- Like spring on a summer's day
