February 8, 2016

  • Another year?

    Another year has passed, well, almost.  I still survive, though survival seems like it is not what most people make it out to be. Again thinking about writing. Writing about good times and bad. Maybe some poems that I have written. Maybe some gibberish that someone outside the fog may understand though I doubt many will read or hear.

    I'm between a few doctors on what to do about migraines. While they are arguing, I am suffering. It seems they have forgot why they became doctors, and the oath that they swore to help people. Now they are afraid of institutions that make it hard for them to do what should be done to heal, not what is done to treat symptoms.

    So, now I sit in the fog again; or maybe I should say still.

    The fogwalker ponders on what to do next.

March 29, 2015

  • Writing?

    It has really been a long time since I last wrote.  I read my last post and I miss my Dad.  I have confidence that he is in a great place: the heaven he always talked about.  I have the same confidence that I will see him there someday.

    I have a lifetime xanga blog.  I got it what seems like almost a lifetime ago.  I sneak in from time to time to read some other blogs.  I'm usually quiet though some are really thought provoking or interesting to read.

    The FogWalker has lots of things to do, and lots of time to procrastinate...not that his life will be infinity long...

     

December 11, 2009

  • Maybe; Maybe Not

    I think about trying to catch up, and even start blogging again.  There's been nothing written in this blog for nearly the entire year until now.  March 2008?  That's been a long time ago.  Lots of changes.  Maybe too many.  Where do I start?  I don't know that I will.  This is supposed to be good for me; to write.  But is it?  I don't know and it seems like I know less every day.  Maybe I'll tell the long and boring and whiny story from March 2008 until now.  I could add all the gruesome and boring details.  I don't know.

    I do know that my Dad passed away a month ago, on November 4th.  He got me thinking of writing again.  He was a Christian man for as long as I have been alive and he walked the talk everyday that I knew him.  He was ready to go "home".  He was at peace and knew the end was coming.  He is at peace now.  You can't prove the afterlife, but he knows now.  My brother and I was there when he breathed his last breath and was gone in his sleep.  A "righteous death" is what the preacher read about from the Bible, and he talked about Dad.  He lived what he believed.  The graveside service had a military ending with a 21 gun salute for the man that had seen the end of WW2 and served his country in the US Navy.  A faded tattoo of an eagle and the flag adorned his right bicep.  He would have been happy with the two young sailors that stood by his coffin and folded the flag in his honor.  I am well proud of my Dad.  And he's seen many changes in the world in his 89 years of life.  We used to talk about them.  If I can be half the man he was...

    The FogWalker searches for the oblivion of sleep as it has not come yet in this early hour....

March 19, 2008

  • Tough

    The lights send pain through the eyes into the center of my brain like a steel dart that will not stop until it has reached the maximum pain point.  Sounds just seem to hurt and rake across every nerve like fingernails across a chalkboard, except it's painful reaching a crescendo that makes me want to scream.  Movement is incredibly hard, and the movement of my head makes it feel like it is emulating a ping pong game with my brain bouncing off one side of my skull to the other.  This is THE migraine.

    I hate the telephone and telemarketers keep calling.  I point my 9mm at the phone, but I hold the shot.  It might stop the ringing, but the noise in this enclosed room would make me want to point the 9 at myself next.  And my Hunni would be mad when she got home because of the mess from all the shooting.

    The cats and the dog hover over me and lay tight beside me as if they're trying to will the pain away.  It doesn't work, but their comforting efforts make me glad to have them as friends and extended family.  Who else would stay so close when I'm not the best to be with?

    I despise the drugs and the problems they may cause from their use.  But, the pain is overwhelming and I give in to the Imitrex with a Stadol Cocktail coming later.  I think of the bills that it causes, so I increase the heat of my heating pad and try to melt the pain from my left temple.  The sweat that comes off my head seems to help with easing the pain, but the pain persists.

    Though I hate that time has gone by and I've done nothing, I pray for the sweet oblivion where there is no pain.  The oblivion where dreams don't always torture me, but sometimes make me feel like I'm alive again, and without pain.  Sometimes the dreams torture me with memories of the traumatic car wreck and the life changes it brought.  So there may be some peace from pain, but yet there's pain of a different type, and then there's the sudden waking from it.  I just want the deep, dark oblivion which is my peace from the pain that can't be escaped otherwise.  It seems that only Stadol will bring that oblivion, yet I still hesitate knowing the consequences: the waiting, the prodding, the bills.

    I've become lethargic with practicing my biofeedback and body control so that it's very hard to do anything with the pain.  The pain comes everyday, but when the big pain comes, I'm not in control.  The barometric pressure moves like a rollercoaster and the migraine gains momentum at the top of every hill crashing down on me with every sudden drop and then the rise again.  I need to ride to hit at the bottom, the very lowest point, and just move there.  It won't obey my wishes.  I want off this ride that just doesn't end.

    Again I give in, "No mas", I tap out, but my enemy does not relinquish its hold on me but tries to increase the pain with every passing moment.  Then there's a small reprise, a small relief that comes for a few moments, and I try to get some things done as quick as possible.  And this is one.

    My Emotions

    I'm afraid to express all my emotions because most will never understand.  I've tried to explain to a few, though I've only met a couple that I think have had such demons.  Many, not all, are sympathetic, but very few are empathetic.  I've been told that expressing myself can help me, but I'm not sure that it's true.  Today is one that will not show my emotions and feelings, just the physical pain that I feel.  Although, there may be some that see some of the emotions in my words and they may understand some.  But in my head, and in this fog, there are few that would be able to "feel" the depth of lostness and pain.  People are only wraiths that pass by, never stopping to understanding, only pausing to cause more discomfort.  Then they "woosh" off to leave more emptiness.  Too deep for now; I'll stop.

    The FogWalker goes to seek relief in the dark....praying for more of the sweet oblivion...

March 8, 2008

  • I'll Survive!

    I found out from the doctor yesterday that he suspects that I'll survive.  I've really had a hard time.  The only thing that kept me from a hospital stay is that I didn't have to go to some job or out anywhere and I could just stay home (which I've done for weeks now).  I'm am getting better and my lungs and sinuses are now clear.

    The bad news is that through all this, I've really inflamed and damaged my larynx.  I can talk for about 5 minutes tops, and then the voice is gone.  The remedy for this is to quit talking and continue on some steroids to help with healing.  I hate the steroid part...well, gee, I hate not talking.  It is giving up an excuse of practicing our ASL.  I need to do that, too.

    The problem with my larynx is that it being inflamed keeps the cough mechanism going which in turn keeps it inflamed.  Talking is bad, too.  Clearing my throat is bad.  Dang, everything seems bad for it.  I'm at the point of doing permanent damage.  And I don't want to sound like Froggy from Our Gang.  The coughing keeps my head throbbing with this migraine.  Geemyknee!!!

    It's no talking time for me.  And try to preserve my wonderful voice.  Truthfully, it's never be wonderful and I can't stand hearing my own voice, but at least it is a voice.  Sometimes one doesn't know what they have until it's gone.

    It's the ol' silent treatment around here, but we both understand that.

    The FogWalker goes back to scanning a book for publishing....in the quiet...

March 6, 2008

  • Still Staying Inside

    The barometric pressure had continued to beat me up the last couple of day.  So, I'm still hibernating.  I have a doctor appointment tomorrow so he can tell me I'm getting better from the bronchitis.  I'm a lot better on that front.  I have a runny nose and a cough, but not like it was.  On the other hand, the migraine has been enough to keep me down.

    The FogWalker goes to bed this evening....hoping not to wake up his Hunni with the cough....

March 3, 2008

  • Surviving Another Day

    Got up and this day started like yesterday.  But there's things to do.  Like fun things, you know, paying bills, getting caught up on emails, moving some plants because it's a nice day outside, pick up prescriptions, um, yeah, lots of things to do.  So what did I do this morning?  Not much of anything.  Slept in...and at least I did sleep which keeps the pain lost since it can't find me in my oblivion.

    Played several turns on Scrabulous on Facebook.  Kimberly got me started on that; yeah, I'm blaming her, that's my story and I'm sticking to it!  And I fooled around and really haven't done much.  I really don't want to go out this evening, too.  But, I have to do that.  Don't worry, I'll be pleasant.........maybe.

    Smile

    Sometimes people want to MAKE you smile, even if you don't want to.  I think someone wrote about this once that I remember (Cheryl?)  I've got a crushing migraine and I feel like I'm going to die.  I try to smile to most people anyway, when this young lady makes it her day's goal to force me to smile.  Hey, I gave her my best, but she wanted more.  Pardon me, I don't feel well.  I don't want to talk.  Would you mind not talking to me today, maybe some other time?  She insists that she can make me feel better.  Yes, my mind did wander for just a moment and I don't think she meant what that sounded like, and no, that wouldn't make a migraine go away.  Thanks, said with dismissal.  Anything that would make me smile?  Now she seems to bordering on heavy innuendo.  Anything?  Umm, yeah, with a squeeze on the hand.  No thank you.  Come on, what do you think?  I think my Hunni would rip off your head and force feed you dog crap.  That pretty much ended that conversation.  What the heck was that?  Should I have told her to take off her clothes, dance around the pharmacy, and then come give me a lap dance in front of everyone, or what?  Sorry, I got carried away there.  Maybe my messed up head was playing games with all her words, body motions, hand gestures, and I just totally misunderstood.  I just don't understand.  I don't think I'm the greatest looking guy, not bad, well, not good either.... just kinda' a guy.  What I really don't understand is that I'm sitting at a Pharmacy waiting on some drugs, could have any disease possible, and this girl comes up to someone she totally doesn't know, and acts like she wants sex.  What, was she in heat?  What's even stranger is that I thought she was really pretty and shapely and she could have anyone that she wanted. 

    Maybe that was a game?  If so, she might not realize how dangerous that was.  Not with me, of course.  I wasn't going to pull out my .40 that was under my vest and do anything.... you know what I mean.  Isn't that a good way to get hurt, if it's a game.  And if it wasn't a game, isn't that a good way to get something that you don't want?

    Oh, on the other hand, there's the person that wants to make you all better by making you smile.  Sometimes, I just don't feel like it.  Most of the time, I try to smile even when I don't feel like it,  But if my smile doesn't meet your standards, sorry, but your empathy doesn't meet mine.

    The FogWalker goes to get ready to go out....doesn't want to....will probably smile some this evening....

March 2, 2008

  • When you have a bad day, what do you do to comfort yourself?

    My bad days usually consist of a lot of pain.  Today is one of those days and this may be appropriate question for today.  Physically, I submit to the drugs given for the bad day cause, the migraines, and hope that the pain is eased.  Sometimes I have to go to the hospital for a Stadol Cocktail.  So the physical comforting may be drugs and a heating pad on my head.

    Mentally, or would it be spiritually, I thank God that I'm alive.  Then there's the other side of the coin when I wish I were  dead.  Migraines are no fun.  I can't say that I really comfort or conjole myself when I'm like this since all I try to do is slip into sweet, painless oblivion.  I try to get away from light, noise, and external stimuli.

    Then there's the other bad days, like when my printer's drive belt broke, and the window got stuck down on the car, and the truck was dead, and the day is generally not going well.  My comfort then is just to think that I'm very fortunate and things could have been worse.  I don't know how they could be worse, but they could.  Maybe some of the comfort is the knowledge that most of these things are only temporary and there's no use worrying over where I'm going to get the money to fix it, or who will help, or whatever.  Things will work out some how and some way, it just might not be the way I want.....but, there's always tomorrow.

    Also, there's always distractions like the PS3 where I can comfort myself by letting another world get into my head and not facing reality.  Distractions can be comforting.

    Okay, the biggest comfort doesn't always comre from within, sometimes it comes from without from my ever loving Hunni that can make it come from within because she cares so much.

    And thus you have the ramblings of someone trying to intellectually answer a question while the brain is sizzling with the pain and pressure that seems will explode the life right out of them.  Maybe that was too random to make sense, don't know... 

    I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

    No Mas

    In some competitions, you tap on the mat when you give up, others you just say "no more", others you may just tip over your top game piece, and there's always some way to give up or give in.

    The migraine is winning, I want to tap out.  I give up; it wins.  I concede, but it won't quit.  The only way to win is to get so doped up that I don't feel it, and then I lose because I lose time and lots of money since a Stadol Cocktail includes all the costs incurred by the hospital, doctors, nurses, pharmacy, etc. and the loss of my time and the time of my Hunni while she patiently sits and waits for the long ER visit to be over.

    I want to give up, but I just can't say it and it be over.  It wins!

    The FogWalker goes back to the heating pad....and probably to the ER...where's the comfort in all of that...

February 29, 2008

  • Post went into oblivion, trying to repost now....oh the brain hurts....

    Post Card

    I sent a postcard to Xanga that I had drawn while I was sitting in the doctor's office.  Kimberly told me about it, Thanks!  I was sick, shaky, coughing, but I had my son sanitize it before sending it off.  It was a graffitti card. 

    I have a domain name and a server to put up art for sale, and some for giveaway, that will be populated by a member of the Mo family.  That's DMo, me, and MoChine and MoMan, my 2 sons.  There will be art and graphics of all kinds, since we've done all kinds of stuff.  I've already sold graphics and banners for sites and would like to do more.  I also have some other contributors for graphics and stuff, so I need to get this site up and running.  I'd like it to do really well, but not so well that I'm really really busy with it....I guess that's a good reason to have other contributors.  So some would be for sell, and some free stuff.

    Leap Year Birthday

    No, my birthday wasn't on the 29th, though the doc told my Mom that I would be.  I came a few days earlier.  Funny thing, another Xangan, Ken, mentioned that a few hours made the difference in his age or he would have been 13 today.  Well, that's not funny, but just reminded me that I would have been that, too.

    ***hums "it's a small world after all"***

    Weather Stays Wet and Cold

    The barometer is jumping like crazy and I want off this rollercoaster ride.  It's been hitting the migraines hot and heavy and I'm a baby and ..... and, I'll quit whining now.  I'm kinda' jealous of one person that blogged about warming trends and fishing today!

    The FogWalker goes back to the recliner...will contemplate the other site....or will just slip into sweet oblivion...

February 27, 2008

  • What is the greatest lesson a friend has taught you?

    First of all, I would like to say that "friend" means more to me than just an associate, or someone that I might do some things with, or work with, and it's not a casual term  IMO, too many people use this term really casually and loosely.  I don't.  If I consider you my friend, then it means more than what most use this term for.  So with that said....

    I learned that a true friend is a friend, no matter what others say or do.  I had someone accuse me on an inappropriate dealings with a lady friend.  An affair to be exact.  It wasn't true and to prove it wasn't true, I avoided my friend for a long time.  She finally caught me and asked why I wasn't her friend anymore.  I explained what had gone on, and she had known who started the rumor and when.  It didn't mean anything to her, but she did miss talking with me and wondered if I was still her friend.  Though I hadn't acted like a friend, she was still mine.  I learned that a friend will stick with another friend no matter what is going on.  I should have done that.   I apologized for acting like a butthead and we're still close friends.  I should have known that my true friend would still be a true friend even though others were suspicious of a "real" friendship.

    I think I've learned lots of other lessons of friends, but this is one that just bears remembering.

    I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

    The FogWalker returns to the recliner....no whining today about being sicker....