The next 50 years

I was watching the tv.  I'd tuned into the news while using the bathroom, and as usual all I got was the commercial break.  Said break included an ad for a senior's residence.  I thought to myself, if I had to live there instead of getting in a bus and driving around, just sit in an apartment in Saskatoon, then what?  I don't have sex.  I can't enjoy a good shit in the morning.  I don't have family.  Friends?  Well there's a bunch of people who'd call themselves my friends but they wouldn't be around then any more than they are now.  Facebook can't replace a good game of canasta, you know?  I can't even use food or booze to get pleasure.  1200 calories a day just isn't enough to eat more than it takes to get my vitamins and fiber and protein!  I don't have grandkids coming around or any of the traditional things that keep elders going.  I just get so depressed at the idea of being stuck like this.  I shared my feeling...

I'm so ready to be able to sit straight, but my butt ain't.  The effort to sit up instead of laying down, so I can type, eat, and so forth, keeps pulling at my stitches, the vulnerable ones on my butt.  I wonder, if I duct tape across my butt crack to force the buttocks together, would the stitches heal faster?  Hmmm, LOL, interesting idea.  Not duct tape, of course, that's harsh stuff, but skin tape?  I could include absorbent bandages over the graft.  Interesting.  I might actually try that.  At the moment I'm in a position that's working but it involves  a lot of bending of legs and they'll eventually complain pretty hard about the restricted circulation.  I was sitting on my heels for about an hour but that got painful. I want so badly to talk about my forging. When a japanese sword making master creates a Katana, he doesn't just flatten out a superb chunk of iron then put an edge on it, the way western blades are made.  No, h...

I'm so fed up with that POS bluetooth keyboard.  It misses the space bar, I hit the enter key all the time when I don't mean to (sending immediately my unfinished post) and it dances around on my lap like a puppy who doesn't want to be brushed.  ARGGHHHHH!  But sitting here, on my heels at the desk using this delightful corsair keyboard is not doing my stitches any good. I got infected.  I think from the drain tube coming out of my stomach, from when I took a shower.  I may not get clean enough but till all the holes in my body close I will not shower again!  I'm on antibiotics and finally today they're working.  I've been in a ton of pain and so tired.  I  can't believe I'm scheduled for stitch removal next week.  It seems too soon. They're still bleeding like menstruation!  I can even smell the blood sometimes.  I can't lay down 24/7 because I have to sit up to consume food and drink, or knit or fool on the pc, but no matter...

I have been waiting until I can sit at my desk to write.  The stuff to say about keeps mounting and before you know it, almost none of it makes the cut.  I'm so sorry to be so silent so long.  Now, a rough scrape up of the mere events of the summer, when a more in depth moment-by-moment telling would be much richer.  So much I can't tell you without diving in, and even as I type, I realize I'm still not up to this long typing. I've been on the couch a long time.  The chemo shrank the tumour 80% and last friday, surgery was undertaken, successfully.  The mechanics aren't important, but I no longer have an anus or rectum. No but, seriously, they rebuilt my pelvic floor using a graft off my abdomen!!  During all this, a spiritual surgery was happening too. I came out of the hospital with more than changes to belly and butt.  My character too was forged or honed or something. I feel like a different person.  It's about that I wish I could spea...

Where have you been my darling one? Where have you been my hazel-eyed son? I've been to the place where men walk on water.  I've been to the land where the land cowers down.  I've been across mountains that stab at the sky.  And I've seen rolling waves that rose up so high. It's been a life full of lows but so high. And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, oh so hard, it's a hard rain that's gonna fall. And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, oh so hard, it's a hard rain that's gonna fall. What have you seen my darling one? What have you seen my hazel-eyed son? I've seen snowy glaciers in moonlight at midnight.  I've seen deepest forest with moss to your knees.  I've seen water forever with no land in sight. I've seen dirty cities with nothing but blight. And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, oh so hard, it's a hard rain that's gonna fall. And it's a hard, it'...

I get chilly, but without warning, a burn steals over me from my core, and I flush out in sweat, and it takes too long too cool down.  I get soaked.  It's very random.  It sometimes comes along with the ache from my tumour, but mostly it's just completely unpredictable.  I've tried googling but there's no explanation out there for it.  I guess tumours can do that?  It's an endocrine type tumour I read, that colorectal and some others can flood you with hormones, and mess up your system. I'm also having a lot more pain.  The damn thing aches if I try and do anything related to walking or standing, and even sitting, I need to be utterly relaxed, chill, zen, like nearly asleep.  That can be hard because my belly is constantly fighting and freaking out, constipated, gas, pain and movement.  I still get extremely disgusted by the bag of shit on my stomach.  I can't fathom ever taking it as normal even now. Dan's back into a nice mode. ...

Lost all those appointments because I deleted them from the calendar. They were intimidating me too much.  now I'm stuck.  can't make myself call the doc to see him again.  Can't stand the idea of talking to multiple strangers on the phone, none of whom has any reason to give a fuck about me.  If I fail to go through with treatment, the cancer pain will come back as bad as ever,worse, and it'll hurt for months before I finally die of  it.  But I am at a wall.  I just can't make myself do anything.  Can't even eat anymore.  Just cry and cry and cry. Shake and sob, scared and hopeless.  Nobody to help me because all that reaching out didn't do me any good at all. Dan's getting chores done but other than that, it could be last year.  Same fucking scene.  Me alone at home depressed and sick.  Garden overgrown (technically Tom's looking after it but he's not up to the job).  All that reaching out, what was that for? Short...