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Friday, 11 December 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....

Wednesday, 19 March 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...

Saturday, 08 March 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...

Thursday, 06 March 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....

Monday, 03 March 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....