the truths of the matter......

It's wednesday now a week after my second dose of (life), as I'm now calling it in my quest to be positive about this fiasco. It's hard to see the positive attributes to these gnarly meds sometimes when I'm cramping and constipated or I have nill motivation to do much else than stare at the idiot box all day. But...I have also been put in check a couple times by some dear ol' friends that the reality of the matter is that I'm saving my own life by letting the nurses pump me full of this wretched concoction of drug. I have yet to lose my yellow mop from my head which is encouraging though I'm pretty confident one of the days it's going to shed in one foul swoop. I'm able to make a couple of ill researched assumptions about how I'm going to feel during these courses of medication. The day of treatment (thursday) and the day after I'm usually pretty cracked out and almost hyper from the steroids they give me and then come friday night i'm like a kid on ridelin all cross eyed and staring off at the wall. The weekend serves me up real nice with some exhaustion and kind of just like brain sedation, nothing really to say and waves of complete indecision. This kind of seems like it will burden me for about the first week as it did the first round. So like I said it's wednesday now and I'm starting to feel a little more focused and defined with some energy building. Hopefully things will unfold like last week and by the weekend I'll be joyously moving my carcass about. Everything in my body seems to ache and malfunction in perfect synchronicity making me feel like i'm turning into an old man or developing some gnarly arthritis all of the sudden,although I have a feeling I'm lacking real doses of vitamin D from being house bound for so many days on end. It's frightening sometimes wondering if everything will go back to normal and I'll feel like normal ol' stick once again, at times it seems unimaginable I'll tell you what. Rode my bike downtown yesterday and passed a blind lady staggering her way down the sidewalk meticulously navigating herself to her destination with all the intent and motivation in the world. "Damn!" I thought. I could have lost my eyes in some freak accident, I could have come down with some crazy bone disease and be forced into an amputation, or have been paralized or........I pedaled along with growing acceptance and gratitude for my own situation. The realizations I have almost daily about life really give me such a new take on where I'm headed and what the reason be on this sometimes unjust, unpredictable and beutifully cruel adventure of living. Call someone and tell them you love them. There is no reason why you or them couldn't just be gone tomorrow. Thanks for checking in. Stick.

On the high horse......Yeehaaaa

Well hot damn, It's two days before my next treatment and I have been feeling stellar. Yep that's the right word to use, stellar. I have waded through the hagardness and am feeling almost like a regular ol' dude. Been pedaling my limbs around town for the past couple days checking out this wacky city I grew up in. My perspective on this place has definitely changed in the past month or so, I can see the great things about this valley and have been able to form a new found understanding as to why my mom has been here for thirty years and never left as well as why my friends can never seem to make it out and stay out. Rode my skatin board yesterday with a longtime friend which seriously felt like everything I ever needed in life, rolling my bones around and laughing at janky ass skateboardisms brought a ray of light into my life that feels like has been blocked for awhile. I told my mom it felt like soul food, like it brought me back to my own self consciousness and understanding, assuring all that I love about what my life is and who is in it.(UHHHHHH....Maybe gettin too deep eh?) Anyway, things are good for me now, my girlfriend is here and living in Mom's house with me, talk about a trip, living back under my mom's roof with my girlfriend jobless and crusty. This whole blogness is a whole lot easier and productive when I got shit to gripe about, but there's plenty of that to come here in the next week I'm sure. Maybe not so gnar though, I got this bottle of milk of magnesia that I plan on swigging on like a truckee river vagrant on a bottle of cheap bourbon. That should keep my bowels moving and eliminate the stabbing battle in my gut hopefully. With that relieved I'm hoping to just be real real tired and weak which is manageable I imagine. Got two more days of smooth cruisin here, thanks for checkin in! Hope you're all well, thank you for the comments they really make my day and I look forward to hearing from you! Bye.

Good god please!!!!!!!!!!!!

All I want to do is please please take a real, sizable human-like brown long nice shit!!!! It's Tuesday afternoon here at the Nevada rehabilitation center on sunrise dr. and shit has definitely gone down hill since Friday. (Literally) On Saturday which was Halloween I was feeling pretty creepy for sure, I don't think I had dropped deuce since Thursday after treatment and I was starting to feel more clogged than a sorority house shower drain. Having wicked gnarly cramping and absolute defeating fatigue I watched as my mom prepped the house with decorations and spooky decor. I tried my best to be a real sport but I really felt like trash. I slept while my mom carved pumpkins, she woke me up with a special surprise though. I was getting a massage in a half an hour so I had to muster out of my crust and on down to the clinic. Obviously the massage felt great and I think I probably needed it but I'm not sure it was the best idea in hindsight. By the time all the kids were done ravaging our candy stash and things were mellowing out around the house I was getting stabbing stomach pains and it felt hard to the touch like I had a six pack on my bladder, not rad at all. My amazing mom made a midnight dash to the store to get me some stuff to get me squirting. I took four bowel movers and tried to sleep the night away, interrupted by stab jabbing cramps and panic stricken jolts to the bathroom with no happy endings. When I woke in the morning I must have sounded like an eighty year old fat man trying to tie his shoes. I was so crippled in pain in my stomach I marched back and forth down the hallway from bathroom to bed praying something would happen, even a gigantic fart would have been very well received. I tossed and moaned in bed for the first four hours of Sunday thinking that "if I died today it wouldn't be so bad, I've had a good run." Finally I was granted some results which allowed me to at least make it to the living room and try to start may day as a real life person. Mom was anxious to get out of the house as the weather was incredibly perfect and she has this sixth sense about what's happening up at Lake Tahoe. So she made me get in the car and go for a ride to the lake which was really the last thing on the face of the planet that I felt like doing but as she thought and I wanted to agree, it might do me some good. NO GOOD! Pretzeled in the front seat dealing with cramping constiarreah was anything but helpful, I tried my best to appreciate the heaven like day up there at the lake but everything was hell to me on sunday. We got to the beach and I tried to walk but I had nothing, honestly I did not have the energy to even walk the seventy degree alpine lake shore. I just flopped on the ground and layed in the sand feeling more helpless and defeated than I have honestly ever felt in my life. (I'm sure this will become a common claim as my postings continue) This type of fatigue is really fucking scary, I thought that I might be dieing for real, I had to concentrate to move my limbs where I wanted them to go. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......Sunday was literally shit storm of crampy, bubbling intestinal irratance with a real nice dose of flooring fatigue.

Yesterday and today have been a real improvement I must say. I went for a bike ride yesterday if that says anything to the tune of the day. When the nurses pumped me full of the death one of the drugs in the concoction called DTIC was supposed to have been split with saline to dilute the dose as it was pumped into my veins. My cooky ass nurse didn't add the saline bag to my IV pole and just started pumping me full of straight DTIC which felt like there was fire being pumped into my arm along with the fiercest charlie horse you could imagine all at once. In panic I wondered if I was having an odd reaction or if this was the wrong stuff or.........that shit was sooooooo damn painful! After I called for my nurse and she was aware of what had happened and being scolded by another nurse she hooked me up with my saline bag. The messed up thing is that now six days later I'm having these tweaked numbing pains through my forearm veins where I had initially felt the agony. My arm is sore to the touch in that area and there is some oddly foreign, powerless feelings going on from fore arm to shoulder. I think the bitch zorched the inside of my arm with the toxic death by not paying full attention to the task at hand. That's the scariest part about this whole thing is that these ladies are in control of making sure the doses, drugs, and administration are all correct every time, if not some serious shit could go down, after all they're dealing with toxic acids. Enough griping for today, that's how things have been. Thanks for checking in. I hope your having a wonderful day!