The great escape.

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I had just laid down for a nap. I didn't really need a nap in a terrible way but I wasn't interested in pushing it until I was completely exhausted. The phone rang. I knew who it was and I was correct. My friend was on the line and interested in shooting. He said he simply lost yesterday in the nether, something he never does. I suggested that that is something I have done frequently, that perhaps now he might understand. I've been better about it, since getting over whatever. Anyway, I suggested it was all good. I had slept until 15:00 yesterday so would not have been awake to go.

I made it into town relatively quickly. We stopped and grabbed a few sandwiches to go. I stopped for some ammunition, just in case. This time we went up the canyon. The first place we went was still closed. The next place we considered was busy. I was a bit nervous, being Saturday and Father's Day Weekend, that there would be too many people anywhere we might wish to shoot. The last place was open. While we were shooting, a man who has moved here from South Dakota looking for work, nervously approached. He seemed a bit on the nervous side. My friend wouldn't really talk to him, but I did. He had purchased a .357 recently, but only bought a few rounds. He was wondering if we could shoot right there. Well, yeah. So, I sort of invited him in despite my friend.

He hadn't shot in years, he suggested. I suggested it was a good thing he bought the gun before he came because Utah can be really freaky about letting people moving into state buy even long arms. I had purchased a few .357 rounds, had some reloads, and even loaned him my overhead ear sets. I used a set of in-ear plugs (terrible trade). It's the one thing he forgot to buy and shooting without any protection was a bit much for him. It jangled his nerves and hurt his ears. Anyway, he at least found out his pistol was reasonably sighted in and he could hit a dollar sized target at 25 feet. I went ahead and let him sound my .45 off. I think it shook him a bit. He has only ever shot wheelguns, so the auto was a new thing. But that my .45 kicked and twisted less than his pistol was a real surprise. And 13 rounds through the gun also seemed to throw him a bit. He kept peeking to see if it was done yet. Way too funny. He bought the whole box of .357 125 grain I had, as he liked the few he shot. I just sold them for the same price I paid. Plus I tossed in a dozen and a half reloads for free. He asked for my phone number, since he was a newcomer... and a shooter. We will see if he calls.

After that, back into town. My friend's foot was hurting him pretty badly. He took a few painkillers while we were up there, and by the time we got back, his foot was a bit better. I told him on the phone about how much I thought my vitamins were helping, I think they have allowed better eating, drinking, and perhaps thinking. His doctor is so concerned about him that he is setting him up for the dietician. While that may help, what doctors don't seem to understand is that until you get some grip on life, telling us to eat right and even showing us what to eat, is a lot like freeing turkeys from the 20th floor. Turkeys don't fly and ill people don't eat. Vitamins might be helping me. So, feeling slightly better and hoping to do much better, we stopped in and he bought an electric shaver and Flinstone's vitamins.

I did fuel up the vehicle on my way home. I usually fill it all the way. For whatever reason, the pump stopped before reaching full. I didn't really think about how much would be needed, a bit tired from the day and recent events, I simply assumed it was full. I washed the car as well, then noticed the pump had only put in three quarters of a tank. Irritating but whatever. This time, finally, I think she is clean, as clean as she gets, too. The last few washes simply didn't quite get it, then didn't get all of it, but finally... clean.

Medicine, a few brots, and perhaps to bed early tonight. I might set the alarm for 7:00 or something. Who knows what napping as needed will do to my schedule, but it is so much easier on my old bones, regarding getting things done when I am awake, and such, that naps are truly worth their weight in gold and sleeping when needed is much easier than fighting it out as I stretch for nothing. I never get a thing done when I stay up for it's own sake, though in the past the difference was negligible. At this point, sleeping enough really allows some serious work to go forward, at least of the lighter variety such as laundry and cleaning the bathroom.

Good night.

More sleep.

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Fine, a long nap yesterday and more sleep last night. I have no idea how long I slept either time, only that I slept until I could wake with some ability to think and function in a more fluid manner. It really helps. I have been having to use a little forethought in order to take my medicines, but it seems to be working. By the way, that I have been able to concentrate and take my medicine regularly... is an unusual thing. I am trying no harder and yet taking the medicine like clockwork. I have not been able to do that up to this point. It has as much to do with being in the right place, a place I mostly feel secure living in, as much as it has to do with the correct medication.

I am not sure how short or long term this medication is. I had hoped we would review medication at cardiology. No such thing occurred. I am going to run out of one of the water pills shortly and I believe that would be a mistake. As is, from past experience, hydrochlorothiazide is not sufficient by itself to get rid of enough fluid. I need to check, if it looks like I will be running short, I need to make sure that is reissued. The problem with my medicine, as is, is if one part slips, the whole thing will most likely fail. I've been there, done that. And yet I can't honestly count on my doctors to maintain. They merely change and experiment or follow some preconceived notion of how things "should work" despite realities on the ground. They almost never explain things, either. Which simply doesn't work here.

It's still a painful life. My ribs (and most of my body) are feeling it from the lawn, my side (though improved) is feeling it (from water loss?). More Tylenol, for now, and keeping activity light and sweet, should see me through a resting weekend. After that, I will simply have to push again, if necessary. The rest of the lawn will get hit this coming week, continued cleaning of my abode, as well as as much business as I can get done. Once the home is in order and business is tended, I can get to figuring out exercise, perhaps weight lifting, hiking, and maybe on into biking. Swimming would be great if the water would slow and warm. The last time I looked I don't believe swimming out at the local reservoir would be... wise.

Well, onto... resting. Though a few loads might go into the washer and dryer today, so be it either way. I am still just waking up, kicking the machine over, testing the waters. Until I go through my booting up I have no real idea about what to expect from my day. I did cook brots yesterday, so with the cheeses, I have some fine little meals in the offing. I might be a pauper prince, but I AM a prince. Now, scoot. I have important unimportant things to do...

Women.

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This time it was Dr. Helen who brought the topic up. Something about something and women only rating 20% of men well. I could have left a comment, but I didn't want to pollute her pool. I usually only leave comments, rarely going back and rarely reading other comments. I think I have been hearing that my method is indicative of a candidate for the short bus. *bang* Anyway, I wrote a comment, but decided to paste it here.

I wouldn't worry about how much a woman rates me any more than I would take advice from her about how to unlock her inner lovey dovey side. While women downrate men virtually, publicly, and privately, to our face, and behind our back... most women are with a guy. I am absolutely positive that there aren't five women per alpha. Just... do the analysis and you easily find that women are either as clueless, schizophrenic, or lost in space on this issue as they are on most other issues involving love, romance, family, etc. No, I am sure it has a purpose. But don't let it fool you. And that is a different topic.

I would guess, in real encounters, what a woman rates as subpar today she may well rank highly tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. She will eventually give some large porting of the boys team a good rating. It just seems more static at online places. Further, haven't you ever seen Groundhog Day? Even the more dense of males gets more than one chance and does learn. The movie actually shows an idiot being an idiot and methods of romance that don't work, IIRC, but that is beside the point. Though consistency of rating will never really be there. Which is why even the vaunted alpha will get tired of the screaming and whining implacable she-beast and look for that one woman who just "is". She doesn't exist, btw. Or settle into an alpha-beta mix in order to drag a relationship out for the rest of his miserable life. *grins*

Worry about how women rate you the way you worry about a particular pet you might be considering likes you. Don't look for what they like, look for a consistent reaction to you from them that you like. This is why I believe dating for a full year, half of that exclusive, and then engagement for six months to a year with marriage counseling (preferably religious, as secular counseling is very dubious). Find out where she rates you poorly and make sure she can get over it. The rare times a man decides to divorce it is related to sex, finding a partner who can and will, and occasionally finding a partner who bothers to play the part and takes care enough to... excite. Most divorces are women who settled and were unhappy, got bored because they really weren't ready, or such. If she clearly sees what she is facing, then decides, the chances of success are much better.

Well, that's my story. I know from dating enough of these lovely creatures that they are insane when it comes to sex, marriage, time, and they are fickle bunnies. Don't go there. Have them come to you. Pretend they are in quicksand, you don't go to them, you bring them out, or you both get stuck and it becomes untenable quickly. That is how I will work it if I decide to mess around with my birthright 'birds and bees' kit again. Oh... that's gonna hurt. :p

Nice and short.

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Short but deep, I think. There wasn't much muss or fuss, it a was crawl in, a bit of wonder at how long it would take, then I was asleep before I could really think about it. My mind is rested but I am physically tired too. I might need extra sleep times throughout the weekend. All good, just fine. I still think I can do some laundry, maybe even getting the pillows steamed and dried again.

I keep thinking about finding a wife. Oh, I know, ignore women's advice on dating. Duh! I remember my mother telling me what women like and realizing if I acted like that I wouldn't even get a kiss. I had some early insights into things so I was never fooled by women's wants. Besides, I had watched her, who she picked. She certainly didn't go after nice guys. When it comes to love, romance, attraction, and such, women have no head for it. Much like drinking, some pursuits are better left to men. A woman can't chase or she will lose hard. She doesn't understand, she will simply have to hope a suitor will approach and will do the thinking for them while she considers things in her own odd way. Her way is often more social acceptance and her wants than anything reasoned, and those as afterthoughts more often than not. That is why society used to have the wisdom to protect women. They have no head for ensuring an equitable relationship.

I realize, from a number of recent incidents, that I shouldn't have a great deal of difficulty at least meeting a number of prospective women. I don't know what women see in me, but to cause an older woman to flirt, a middle aged women to blush, a younger woman (legal mind you) to give personal data I had neither asked for nor even intimated I might be interested in, and some other events, they must see something. Not that I have been trying, either. And I won't try, merely making my presence known will be enough. Getting out and about is the trick. I could let those things go to my head but it simply isn't worth it. Those might be flukes in any case. All I know is there are five to seven women I could easily have negotiated something something with in the last month, all while I've been living under a moon of suffering.

The thing is, where to meet women? While Church seems like a good place, I am not sure the women there are any better than bar flies these days. Women seem to have decided, if a guy isn't sexing them after the third date, it isn't going to work. Sure, there are some better situations, but those are usually young first loves. Once a woman has been on the market, she presumes sex in the relationship before marriage. Of course, that can be... worked. Nothing like leaving a woman hot and alone to drive her into the relationship. Found that out by accident. Changed my mind. Then again, she almost became a stalker. Careful with that one. What I need to do is find a place where some commonality of culture can be found. I really am looking for a solid Catholic woman, if there is such a thing. One who can do pole dancing.

I'll figure it out. If I decide to do so.

BAM!

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Fair enough. I have hit a brick wall. Nothing is going to move forward for a while. Actually, I believe I am about to crash hard. I sort of felt it coming so I took Anacin this time. While it is doing just fine with the pain, even taking it with soda didn't help fight off the exhaustion. I've seen exhaustion creeping in and tried to figure out how to... get by it, ignore it, dose it. That isn't going to happen. No, a nap, or even a longer bedtime, is what is going to happen. Fine, fine, I made it through a serious four or five days and rather successfully. I just hope it isn't here to stay.

Sam has been all lovey dovey today. Sassy has been hiding her frisky self. She isn't even making noise outside of my viewing as is her usual. I let them sleep with me last night, again. Though I think that will be a rarity. Sassy would be fine but Sam vomits too often. I just cleaned up two of her messes in other places. She goes through phases with that. She has been helping me stay awake today though. There is always good, bad, and ugly.

Good night, or... something. *BAM!*

The weather?

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It is still moody here. We receive a few warm and sunny days and then fall back into overcast with occasional rain. Since we still have serious snowpack in some parts of the state, this is possibly best. Too much rain, of course, only adds to the flooding. But too quick of a warmup will lead to a sudden deluge of melt water. Not that we can really pick or choose. It is more that we are just dodging bullets right now. My area is fine, more or less. The only problems we might face is having access to the closest shopping areas restricted and be required to drive longer for groceries, appointments, and such. At least, from what I can tell. And I don't see that happening. Other areas are simply being hit, spillways are being used, levies are sometimes failing sometimes being inundated. On the good side, for the first time in a long time wells are full and the Great Salt Lake is picking up water.

There are several flood zones throughout the U.S. From Iowa to one or both of the Dakotas, and of course in the South. Other areas are continuing to suffer from drought, and the fires that go with them. Actually the southern part of Utah is among those areas. Arizona, Florida, Texas, New Mexico, and many others continue to burn or suffer drought. I am not sure about the rest of the world though. And, no, this isn't man-made. Some of the academics and Russians understand this to be a solar event. We have just gone through a very long drought of solar flares, among other cycles. Not only did that affect temperatures, it affected many things. It was actually affecting short-wave radio, decreasing it's effectiveness and causing some to quit the hobby altogether. This is ending. Now we are facing global cooling. By the way, global warming (small as it actually was) most likely creates weather stability. Global cooling does the opposite. If you thought the weatherman was an idiot before, wait. You haven't seen anything yet.

This whole AGW, or whatever they are calling it now, simply reminds me of the pagan belief that bad weather meant people needed to be sacrificed. It was mere superstition regarding natural events which lead to a decrease in the population through sacrifice. While modern pagans abuse science to their means, the results are going to be similar. Degrading the economies of free states, building up barbarians, spreading industrialization to nations who are not yet prepared to deal with it, all will lead to social, military, civil, and other disasters. Worse, it won't change the natural events which will unfold, it might accelerate them. For some of them, that is the plan. For others, it is merely (another) unintended consequence. Much like banning DDT, trying to not allow chlorine to clean water in 3rd world nations, and other such. Why, they don't even allow US grain to be given to starving people because it has been genetically modified and there is concern that this will get into the starving people's exports, then be sent to Europe. Oh, shiver at the thought. Amazing. Unintended? I have to think that word may not mean what they think it means.

Ah well, get ready for the cold, and the unstable weather patterns that will form from that. Understand the economy is caving. Figure out how to live much more humbly. And learn to tune out "scientists" who make more money and receive more grants when people are afraid. I haven't seen a good figure on how much of the economy has been dumped into bad science, money that could have much more wisely been spent in the private economy for real needs and wants, and the chasing away of business through their "work", but my guess is it has been a huge bite. Don't have a job? Thank a scientist. If the rules and regulations they push haven't killed your job, or the politics they have supported haven't killed your job, then the imposition of those things which have forced your job overseas has. Big bite indeed.

Rest.

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I was up way to late finishing the last of the laundry. Oh, whatever. I did the best I could as fast as I could. I still have several loads left to do, of which I am aware. More may become known to me and I might decide to do some clean but wrinkled clothes. Getting going takes a few to several hours though, it just does. Hopefully, though, I will get on laundry before I start pushing my sleep time further back or even as far back as what happened last night. But I wanted to finish that laundry, pushed just because I could and was fixated, and just took the hit last night.

Sleep was fantastic. I don't remember the alarm going off and it seems my friend didn't call. Waking at 15:00 was not great, but there it is. That is fine, there is tomorrow. I will call him shortly and see what is happening. His foot may be bugging him too much today, or my phone is being funny. I just cooked beef ribs, on the bone! I will be cooking brots shortly. I pretty much ate the beef, immediately. It's been a bit since I have had beef, solid, stock, on the bone, hot, fresh, beef. Yeah, I needed that. Perhaps I will get to working on the kitchen this weekend, since being on my feet is more manageable. I won't be pushing it, just doing bits and pieces, sort of what I have been doing this week minus the lawn care. I do need a little down time. Thankfully, downtime now includes housework. Some housework.

I will load another box of bullets too. Perhaps after putting in the first load of laundry. Yeah, none of it is fancy, heavy, or taxing. But continual activity, even at a slow pace, is a huge upgrade. Especially since it can still be classified as downtime. The yard looks fantastic. They not only knocked down the weeds and mowed, they raked. I had no plans on raking, there was no way I could have added that in. To be honest, what I had done those two days was already pushing things a bit too far. I never would have gotten done before having to start over, and that without raking. This is my chance to get on top of it. Gratitude is serious on this.

Well, another blog post, then some laundry, and on to bullet making.

Hmm, still going.

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Both firearms have been cleaned and are ready for action tomorrow. Laundry is taking forever though. Even with small loads, since I am asking for specific things, it is just taking a long time. The last two loads should be easy though. I decided to wash my chest weight vest. I have been looking over wrist and ankle weights but I keep reading advice which recommends vest weights over extremity weights. The vest can handle up to a hundred pounds. It might be a decent thing to start with and I can start with as little as 2.5 pounds though I will probably start with about 20 pounds.

The Tylenol is working, mostly. I think what woke me during the test was a return of the side pain and maybe the beginning of the other pains. The pain pills give me between two and three hours of pretty solid pain relief and a few hours of slightly more comfort than without. I had thought I could only take them once every 8 hours. After reading the instructions (go figure), it says I can take them every four to six hours. Nice! I was needlessly suffering. I don't mind dosing up, in the short term. Really, no problem there. I figure, before long, I won't need them nearly as often. A heating pad might help, and I suppose ice, water, towel, and bag might work when it is too hot for a heating pad, if still needed.

Really, this has been an excellent week! I still have way too much to do, no time to get it all done, and, and, and. Prioritize, organize, and move. I really can do it. While I can, I will. It simply amazes me how easy it is when... well... it is easy. I want to work and play and tend things. I like to keep up and work and play.
I can do these things. Some little switch either says yes or no, though. It's not a conscious choice. Actually, when I can do things I almost HAVE to do them, just like when I can't I simply really can't. Whatever, I'll take it for now. Good night.

Pain!

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Well, perhaps pain alone can shut me down. It has been a very rough day. Sitting doing as little as possible has been the deal. I can't really tell you where it hurts, though I think the tip of my nose is good. Oh, and my forehead doesn't seem to be complaining. The rest of it, though, is either griping or outright cursing me. And I am tired. I did push. Tylenol mutes the peanut gallery but doesn't change the fact that a little too much strain and the voices come back quickly. STOP! Or we will kill you! :p Meh. I will probably get to a few loads of laundry before heading to bed again, or trying.

I truly hope I can use this weekend to get rested and ready for more work Monday. The little things, like laundry, seem to be merely an inconvenience rather than a physical test. While my concentration is better, between the pain of pushing and being tired from that, it has it's limits. Setting several timers makes sure one of them will break through and keep me on track. A load of dark and white special materials and then bed time.

Tomorrow I hope to go shooting, so while waiting on the laundry I ought to clean my pistol and rifle. I won't say that will happen, any of it, but that is the plan. Then, perhaps, over the weekend I will begin straightening out my room. Everything is out of sorts, it could use a vacuuming, have things sorted, and figure out what else might need to be washed. At this point I am not sure how much I can do but I will use whatever I have to get as much done as possible. Just sleeping in a clean bed with most of my clothes clean and hung is a fantastic incentive. We will see.

Good night.

Oh, right, the dreams.

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My dreams were rather strong last night. I dreamed several different dreams but they were all sort of connected. They had to do with the rich creating cushy jobs for themselves in order to help the poor. Charities are set up in which the functional CEO of the charity is paid hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of dollars to hand out pennies to the poor. It just enraged me. That is part of the reason I despise most charities. It is why I disbelieve "government charities". The only difference between government and private charities is how many get a bigger piece of the pie.

I am sure there are some better charities, or charities go through cycles of suck and give. But when a charity worker is paid more than the president, can it really be called charity work? When dozens of people get paid huge salaries, can it really be said to be working for the poor? I simply don't buy into almost any charity I have ever seen in recent years. I remember hearing, about fifteen years ago, that the head of Good Will Industries was being paid (I think) $200 or $400 thousand dollars. Huh? I think I dreamed at least two along this line.

In another separate dream I heard about a charity being set up to get people to go to the funerals of indigents. People who died who had no one else to go to their funerals. Now, this interested me. Then I found out the money being raised for the charity was being used to put out an exquisite meal, so the thing was becoming a morbid scene of opulence. I became rather enraged and got the thing shut down. I continued working on the notion, getting people to attend the funerals and pray for the soul of the departed, but without food, fame, or personal gain of any sort being part of the queue.

Ah well, everyone knows and no one cares. They give to some of the bogus charities and think themselves better for it. Or once their political careers have ended they go on to "work for the poor". Or, whatever. I don't really care how much of a percentage goes to the poor themselves (though that is an issue), I do want to know how many are milking that money, for how much, and to what real good. I doubt most cancer charities, I am dubious of most "feed the poor" charities, I doubt most of it. Bah!

Later.

Now that is sleep!

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Every time I thought sleep was right after this load or this action... there was another step. As I was drifting into sleep it became more and more difficult to remember what else would need to be done before I would allow myself to surrender to it. Add to that, drying bulky items like pillows and blankets is not an exact science. Further, to try and keep these things in better condition, I would dry them on delicate using the less dry function, then finish them with a warmer setting. It was pure torture, and somehow I loved it. It must be like playing Elmer Fudd AND Bugs Bunny, all at once. The two sides of my brain, using a quarter of their usual resources, playing with each other. At least it was for a good cause and it did work.

A clean bed is a wonderful thing. I knew it was bad, for a long time, I simply couldn't do much about it. I would like to have allowed the mattress to air more than a day. The next time I am out I may air it again. I can now functionally literally move the mattress and I can remember to do so, the only question is will I remember in time to muss with the project.

They did a huge part of the lawn! I have a bit left, which is great. I was hoping to have something left to tug me out. I have less left than half of what I did, so it won't be too much. I will not be getting to it today though. Or tomorrow. I am actually planning to work on it Monday. I have pulled, pressed, pushed, and overdone for a number of days now. I will continue to do small things though. Those littler special loads of laundry will go forward. As will some cleaning in the home. Cleaning my guns. Just little things. I would also like to load another box of .45 ammunition. And perhaps find my calculus study materials. Things to do while I become more functionally disabled? Yeah, sort of. Shu-hush.

My side is absolutely murder right now, I am taking Tylenol instead of Anacin, which is not as affective at cutting the pain. Why? Because the Tylenol won't mess with my stats like the caffeine lacing that wraps the Anacin. And, I am needing a lot more frequent dosing. While I may, when I really need to do something (like shooting tomorrow) use the Anacin once in a while, I will obey the doctors for the most part since they seem to have accidentally lowered my blood pressure. But dang, that side went from painful to outrageously constant burning pain, with upticks into seriously hateful harshness. Hopefully a few days of rest will help, and continued working when I can. But my muscles are sore too. A good thing, something anyone who has worked out knows. The burn is back, as is healing and strengthening. But the combination is a bit much to simply ignore at this point and work past. My mother suggested a heating pad, then an ice pad, then maybe a towel and water and plastic or something. I stopped her at the heating pad. I will pick one of those up while in town tomorrow. For my side. I have a feeling that might help.

Wow, what a week. I only have one appointment next week, Sam goes in for the last of one series of shots and the second of three in another series. That means I have nearly a full week to do lots of things I have been meaning to do. If things hold I should be able to get to them. It is amazing how much mental clarity is the key. I can work past physical pain, if I can be clear. I can work, to a lesser degree, past a lack of energy. But I can't work through psychic morass at all. I can't remember what I AM doing, what to do next, and decision making, planning, and such disappear as soon as I finish writing or thinking about them. *ALL STOP, those getting off in Stupidville...* Or is that Boneheadsville? Whatever. ALL STOP is about right on top of it. But not this week. Maybe not next week.

Later.

Ready for bed.

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But the bed is not ready for me. All good though. By the time I finish washing what is needed, getting my bed reconstructed and properly set, I will enjoy one of the most pleasant sleeps in some time. While not exactly a perfectionist when it comes to washing linens, I do better than an average bachelor. I would have to say that this winter, irregardless of the extra illness, I have been a bit lackluster. The illness merely made bad much worse. I couldn't get to the sheets and such even in twice my normal time of every few weeks. Then my normal time just became a thing of lore. Fresh bedding will be quite a pleasure.

They say pillows should not be washed. I have never really understood that. The deal is one is supposed to buy new pillows yearly. Have you priced good pillows lately? Something about dust mites, is one reason to buy new. Something about washing damaging the pillows and the dryer being worse. While, generally, there is something to dust mites, I have never had a problem with pillows being damaged. And the washer I now have has a mode for tending dust mites, killing them actually. While it is true I did not use that mode, this first round, I probably will get to that within a week if my health and function status continues to hold up. I simply wanted clean pillows before steaming them. Which means, after washing the pillows, pillow cases, and dust protectors, I will need to shower before going to bed. All that stuff from the EEG attachments is still there. The good thing about short hair is that it is easy to clean and dries quickly.

Writing for writings sake. I know. But as my mind is opening up things to occupy my mind are still limited. Cleaning my home, tending the yard, and more practical matters are using my time in such a manner that finding other means of usage is both more than I can do in combination and less of a priority. I might have to find the calculus material. I enjoy that when I am higher function. Some of the rest of it will have to be more social in nature. Getting back to Church might help with that, getting out in other ways might also be good.

I noticed as I was dressing to leave tonight that I have lost significant 'volume'. My face looks much thinner. It almost unnerved me. While not handsome in any case, not being chubby-cheeked is a strange thing, like a stranger looking back from the glass. The shirt I put on, being made of cotton and just having come out of a hot dryer, seems... huge on me. This was a shirt I could scarcely wear when I arrived, as I filled it and then some. Now it billows, a strange description for a short sleeved black shirt. I lost 35 pounds when I moved here, give or take. I have only lost another 15 pounds on the water pills. And yet I think I have lost more size to the 15 pounds than I lost to the other 35 pound weight loss. My guess is I will lose more weight and girth. Of course, the pain possibly from the weight loss is pretty severe. I feel like the meat is falling from my rib bones or something. Who knows.

On to tinkering until another couple of loads are washed and dried and I can comfortably and cleanly sleep again. Oh, yes, that will be as divine as worldly possible. Good night. Again if that's what it is.

Two hours.

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That is all the sleep I could get for the test. It sounds like they are going to try and send me a machine after I told them I probably don't need one. After being tested a half a dozen times in the last five years, they do a test at home while I have pulmonary edema and then base probably even weak evidence from that to do more. I think they are tossing these machines around since psychiatry is being debunked, ridiculed, and put aside as childishness. Their new candy is breathing assistance. Won't work, I want them to find the problem not an excuse to stop looking.

I have worked for two days in a row. Sure, not much work, a few hours each day. Well, and laundry, and a few trips, and... more than I was doing per month for the last few months. I was sure I would sleep well. The tech wasn't happy. I think, for him, it has become a bit of a game. He can control pressure and I think for him keeping the visitors down is satisfying. I stayed down for an hour after waking, trying to get back to sleep, before suggesting we call it off. He asked for another half hour to try and I accepted. I am pretty sure he has methods of adjusting the air pressure which often works to elicit sleep. I tried to work with him, as I would much rather have slept. The bed was comfortable, I was tired, it just didn't happen.

The CPAP was fine to sleep with, actually. I have heard good and bad about it. The thing is my sleeping problems have nothing to do with breathing, save when I have trouble breathing even while awake. The only thing that has worked with helping me to sleep is, actually, Ritalin. It allows me to kick over whatever holds me and burn enough calories in order to sleep. It doesn't solve the problem. Whatever is holding me back still exists. It simply allows me to push past it. Some sleep medicine did force me to sleep but it limited the sleep to four hours, with or without Ritalin. Most of it had no affect. I don't know what the problem is, in full. Only that anti-depressants, mood stabilizers, sleeping pills, and even exercise without something to allow that to happen with any frequency or the focused vigor necessary.

So, back home, up with little to do, I am finishing my bedding. I am hoping to have my bedding ready to be put back on and my bed back in play before crashing. I can't tell what of the yard has been done, even with the full moon (ishness) I just can't see. Sassy was out while I was gone. I put her out a bit today and with the lawn events, she wouldn't come back in. I nearly weed whipped her while doing the back yard slightly before leaving. She was hidden in the deep grass. Then she wouldn't come in, disappearing... somewhere. I think she was as pleased to see me when I let her in a bit after returning home as I was to see her. Crazy girl.

Well, on to tinkering while I do the laundry.

That works.

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A handful of Anacin, a bit of food, the first load of pillows in the machine, and a couple of hours for the pain relief, and I found myself getting the lawnmower lit up and into use. I have mowed about half of the larger area I weed-whipped yesterday. That is some of the rougher terrain and has some of the highest grass, plus no shade. It is quite a nest to try and mow, it will be a slow process. Enough of that for now.

I have decided to, after a break, begin weed whipping. Neither job is more or less strenuous, but I think the job will go faster given two lawnmowers and two weed whips going if there is a lead on the weed whipping. Tactical, as I am not sure how much time we will have to work tonight. After about a week, I will have to get out and mow again. Right now I am not using a bagger. Simply put, I don't really have the means of disposing of that many clippings all at once.

The pain isn't coming back, for the moment. And while when breathe becomes an issue, I merely slow down or take a mini-break, whichever is needed. Work might not always be a favored enterprise. Being able to work and having the focus to get to it is grand. There is nothing like sweating and pushing and pulling and lifting to drown out the horrible memories of being incapacitated. I had best use as much common sense as possible though. I am still suffering from serious heart problems. But who ever knows how much is too much until of course it is too late? Doctors will either to tell you to just get a job or to do nothing. Which one, if any, do you take advice? Do they honestly know?

I might be able to get my bedding washed while I am mucking around in the yard. Plus the mattress will get a 48-hour airing out to boot. Hmm, thinking of that, I may lift the mattress so it can completely air out on both sides while I am gone. I wish I could put the bedding out to line dry. I will work on making that possible when I return.

I have so many things to do now that I am almost not sure where to start. Phone calls, business arrangements, mailings, home and yard work, washing and cleaning, and getting back into a reasonable pattern of existence. I will probably be buying a bike this coming month. I have the money now, but would rather have that and a bit more before I buy. Plus I plan on getting a reasonable seat, I hate ball-buster seats. H... A... T... E... You can do whatever you want with your groin, as for mine, I will pamper it. Sadists must have invented those things. Then again, that must mean most of society are masochists?

While I rest I blather. At least I am resting. Which means I am working. Which means things are getting done.

Wowouch.

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I doubt if many of you have ever heard of a beautiful death? A beautiful death is when a warrior, at his peak and truly in fine form, meets an greater opponent and is killed in spectacular form with terrible but swift brutality. Spartans, of ancient Greece, were the first group I knew about who considered such a thing as the... best way to go. I used to concur completely. Barring that a man has little reason to live. If you couldn't fight, and fighting is what a Spartan did, you had no reason to exist. While I will probably not ever find a perfect death and don't really seek such, I have found beautiful pain. Hey, take what you can get.

The work I did yesterday was fantastic, considering the givens. I completed three large loads of laundry, from washing to drying to folding or hanging. I also picked up the sticks I have been meaning to get to for... a very long time. And I started in on the lawn. I suppose I may have done a sixth, maybe a fifth, of the 'first coat'. That is I have cut the tops off the high grass making the lawnmower a more feasible tool for the rest of it. The higher parts of the tops can't really be mowed, not with my equipment. Actually, they can't be weed whipped either. I have to weed whip at a line slightly below half height as anything above that is too hard to cut. I will be getting to more, shortly. I need to get my lawnmower going, to make sure it is available as well.

Now, the thing is, I have not worked in three months. Doing a single load of laundry has been the top of the work capacity. So grabbing a 6 pound weed whip, holding onto the gyrating device, and swinging it back and forth for an hour or two, was quite a bit of work in comparison. That side ache I have had has become quite a thing. It is a beautiful pain. It used to be able to take my breathe once in a while, now it has my breathe down to a practiced whisper. I breathe slowly, carefully, even a little fearfully. It feels, in a minor way, like I have been cut from backbone to sternum, from the middle of the soft torso back up to the sternum. The pain is always there and rather pronounced. It can become extremely pronounced, to definitely taking my breathe for several moments, like diving into cold water on a hot day, if I breath too fast or with any depth. But it doesn't stop there. I keep trying to... breathe deeper. I want my breathe back, I hate that feeling of restricted breathing. That is more terrible than almost any pain.

Guess what? I am about to make it worse. Beyond getting the lawnmower going, and possibly testing it on one of the plots, I am going to weed whip a bit more this afternoon. And, when the helpers arrive, I will do so again. This is going to be tricky. Especially with a drive to Salt Lake City later tonight. But since I have the help, and don't wish to appear to be a laggard, I must do as much of this as I can. At least simply mowing from now on will seem much easier in comparison. I really am considering a riding mower. I will make that decision after this is cleared and then after I mow a regular lawn once or twice. If it really is a bit too much I might just have to figure out how to get a rider. Getting old, sick, or both, stinks. If I do that I will buy one that can handle attachments I do believe. A true garden riding mower for mowing of course, and hauling, tilling, maybe even snow removal and minor bulldozing. Or... not.

It is fantastic to have 90% of my clothes not only clean but also hung or folded. I have been limping by with a load a week, usually not folded or hung, and just getting by with just enough clothes to get through another week. I hope, now, to organize my bedroom and get it cleaned up from being a sickroom. It needs... a lot of work. Being your own doctor, nurse, and caregiver when you are pretty much flat on your back means... concessions. As soon as you can though, you kick the tics and fleas to the curb. No, I don't think I actually have either. I do have a bed that will see those if not tended though. Every pillow, blanket, sheet, comforter, and whatever else there needs cleaning. Pillows, I think, this "morning". They will have some time to dry as I won't be drying them completely in the dryer, it messes them up.

I had best get busy. I am not sure when to expect the company and I don't want to look more like a leech than what I already do. Oh, right, I best get my travel gear packed for heading out tonight. Last minute packing often leaves something forgotten. Oh, and, WOUCH. That really does hurt. Later.

The Church, the family, and some issues.

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While pondering whether I will get to go forth and find a woman to marry, I have been contemplating family life. Strangely or not, depending upon how you understand the Church, the relationship between man and wife is very similar to the relationship between a man and the Church. The two issues are, in many ways, inextricably intertwined. There are differences too, of course. But the similarities far outweigh the differences. While I have always believed there is a great similarity, until I began thinking about looking for a wife and what that means, I didn't see how strong the similarities are.

My focus, however, strayed from that point. Rather than looking at the similarities, my mind took a turn onto the path of thought concerning problems I have with women, and by extension at times, the Church. What amazed me was how similar both the nature of problems are and how deep they go. To choose a bride, take the vows, and surrender to a new life, a man surrenders some parts of himself. The Church, like a woman, is feminine in nature. While this seems good, it excludes masculinity. In churches where women are ordained, the balance is even further thrown over, all but hating men and possibly on into that. But even in my Church, and from the beginning, men have chosen to give up the masculine nature in order to seek even the priesthood. While still surely men, they leave behind sexual relations when they do so properly which the majority honestly do, and they leave behind any call to arms, two of the most virile aspects of masculinity. They give these up in and for trust and faith. Women, by their very nature, are feminine. Even lesbians and feminists, with their higher testosterone levels, are yet fully defined by femininity.

This, for most men, is a difficult thing to overcome. Even in Churches where biblical understandings are implemented, the feminizing factor cannot be denied, even to the point of being overpowering at times. Marriage is no different. With women in tow, a man must slow down, change, make room in his ways for a wife. She simply can't do all he can do. Further, she has learned mannerisms which allow her to find use in a world which has decided she will be weaker, among other things. She slows things down, she adds detail and various other virtues and vices to grant a more level playing field, in her favor. And yet, any man worth his salt knows that such a playing field is a child's game meant to do precisely what it does. Men only choose to allow for that unbalanced and often illogical playing field in order, to, well, play with the crafter of that field.

In other words, both women and the Church, while natural elements in some ways, are also quite unnatural to men is as many ways. Rules, regulations, illogical devices, and an uneven playing field that is stilted against men. It is no wonder men rebel against both, and strongly, at various times in our lives. There used to be balance through law, for the family. There used to be some support through civil and religious norms. Most of that is gone, for now.

The one thing, for now, that I see in my Church is that the femininity of the Church as the bride is offset by the masculinity, even handicapped in some ways as it is, through the masculinity of the priesthood and the rest of the hierarchy. I see that as an attempt, by God I would assume, to try and create a balance between allowing the feminine of the notion of the Church being the bride of Christ and the reality that men cannot be brides. I can't say I fully understand the checks and balances, but I think barring an overriding civil dissolution the idea is good, it works, mostly. At this point, of course, we live in civil disorder.

I know, should I go looking for a wife, I will have to put up with feminine elements in my life. She will have to be allowed to impose rules, hopefully more created in unison. But if she is to have a place in our life and further into my life, I will have to bow to areas that she has responsibility thus freedom thus control. Lord knows I hope she doesn't try to dress me funny. I have limits. In other words, no matter how much men like it or not, we have to hand at least one of our testicles over for her purse, sometimes both. She will act, if the woman becomes our woman and the reverse, as a ball and chain. We will do similar back, if in different areas, but that isn't my issue today.

The Church, and women, do tend to tame men. Women can't do it without familial attachments, women will simply follow men into hedonism. The churches which try to equate men and women also fail because of the pre-existing imbalance toward the feminine of the Church. But if vows are taken in anything like a legitimate manner, the wife will settle a man. The Church will too, if a man honestly submits. Do I really want to be tamed? Honestly? No. But I do want a wife, I do want children, and I want to be a part of the Church. There is only one way to get those. I don't, however, always have to like it. I will have to grin and bear it. And, given the chance, I will.

By the way, the priest called not long ago. Being a bit busy sounding, and having a complicated schedule myself, I have not yet called him back. I hope to do that, along with some other business, tomorrow. I have a few things to discuss. *grin*

Tired, yes indeed. Sleep should be good. Doh! I forgot about the laundry. Bad me. That means another hour up. I should sleep really well.

Some help.

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After I had finished my work for the evening and was resting the doorbell rang. I wasn't sure who it might be but happily answered the door. It happened to be the bishop of the local area. He had seen me out working and thought to stop and see if I could use some help. Why, yes, I could. I realize the job would have been... a bit much so soon. So, tomorrow afternoon he will be arriving with some of his children. With my weed whip and one they will arrive with, we should be able to at least take down the height, allowing for mowing soon. Quite nice and timely.

After my visitor left, I called my friend. He had just eaten. He wasn't sure he wanted company but I think he might have been a bit lonely too. He hasn't been doing well, his foot is causing him great pain. Sleep is troubled and the pain pills don't seem to allow him to sleep a full night. His doctor won't give him stronger or more medicine. Unfortunately, my friend may be addicted. I am not sure how to advise. Though I suggested that he might have a problem with the medicine more so than the pain. He didn't seem to hear though. All I know is I hate heavier pain killers, as much for fear of addiction as for my hate of how it makes me feel. Then again, maybe they simply need to treat the pain for him to heal rightly, then back him off. I really don't know.

I went shopping on my way home. Mostly cat food and litter. But I saw a nearly half off deal on my usual toilet paper, picked up more cheese, and looked over the bikes. About three quarters of the way through my shopping I realized I had pushed things a bit too much today. Or at least I was wondering. Then again, maybe I wolfed dinner down a bit too quickly. That or some combination of the two. I was seriously worried there for about ten minutes. As I left the store and neared the X, I started feeling better. Muscles are a bit pulled, I haven't used them in months. I am not sure how well tomorrow will go, but I will put some skin in the game, what I can put in. I also have to drive to SLC tomorrow night for the sleep study. Should be interesting. I should sleep well.

I have a load in the dryer and one more to dry. It has been a great day, if I survive it. I should sleep well, I am quite tired. Good night. Sleep well.

Very good!

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That sense of health and vigor I felt last night kicked back in. I have started a load of laundry and I have some hopes of actually doing most of the laundry today. What slows things down, of course, is the length of time it takes to do each load of laundry. While I really like the new washer, being a front loading washer means it is slower. Then again, even the old washer took an hour or so to do a complete load. The thing is the old washer did larger loads. I am hoping, though, that the front load washer will be less damaging to my clothing. A mid-point but well researched shirt can last many years even using the top-load washer. I hope for a bit more out of a front loader. When I find good items I try to buy enough to have several weeks of wear or more with a typical type and brand, then have several off types of clothing for variety. Ending with up to two months of outer clothing and perhaps a few weeks to a month of underwear type clothing. Probably too much, but then some of my clothes probably ought to be retired.

As well, I might find myself out using the weed whip or picking up sticks, perhaps even both. Watching the time and taking breaks as needed should see to a very good day. It will depend on what I can physically find myself able to do. I think picking up sticks first is the goal, it is less likely to cause any real strain or leave me finding myself broken down should I get into the task and not be minding my conditions. But if that goes well, and if there remains time, the weed whip might yet be utilized. I am so excited! I know it may seem silly, but I personally really enjoy whipping weeds. It is a cool boytoy. I know, others have bigger, badder, and more expensive toys. But this... I have this and I like it. It is mine. I... like to work, beyond that. I like starting, but more finishing, projects. Cutting the lawn, while a pain at times, is also a beautiful pain. Trimming ahead will make that job of mowing, if I can get to it, so much smoother.

So very excited! It may seem strange, but I first need to work up the gumption to take a shower first. While showering before I go out and get dirty may seem foolish, going outside of my house has being presentable as a requirement. Even just going into my yard. Silly, foolish, stubborn, whatever. Leave me the heck alone, my home, my rules. At least for myself. I merely give unclean visitors the googly eyes about not following my rules (other than drinking from a container... I will pour the contents of that and any other container they attempt that with down the drain). Bah! So excited I am blathering. Time for a shower and getting to it. Move, out of my way... Time to scoot!

What... happened? Don't care, time to get to it, use it before it disappears. If I do well, I might take myself out to dinner to celebrate. I am so excited in this sense of function... I am hoping... if it all works out... I might finish the trimming and get to mowing tonight or tomorrow, before I head in for the sleep study! Later. I GET to work? Who would have thought that has always been my simple intent? Then again, I am willing to take what might harm me in order to do so. I simply haven't found anyone willing to offer it. Bah! Again, later.

Update: About 20 to 30 minutes of light work saw me through for a bit. So, a break while the first load finished, then a new load in and 15 more minutes break, and out I go. I should be able to finish the sticks tonight. And, if there is anything left, do some trimming. Having horses and a llama in the fenced area takes care of 70% of the trimming. While the lawn, in most places, isn't quite buffalo or elephant grass, it is a good sized dog grass. Anywhere from up to my knees or up to my waist, I may have to use the weed whip on some of the longer areas first. At least I know the whip is a serious contender and does well. Imagine what would happen if gas were to be rationed for food stuffs or simply became unavailable. Sickles? Or what? I am sure people wouldn't want high grasses up to their house. It is a fire and varmint risk.

Well, the enthusiasm is there, at least, and the clarity. The body will take some conditioning. But if I feel like this more often that will not be a problem. Just feeling good enough to want to go outside, having the focus to think through even simple things, it is fantastic. Give me another shot of that stuff. Later.

Final Work Update: I did get all of the sticks picked up and moved to a central location. What I am supposed to do with all of it I am not yet sure. While I can keep some of the twigs, the leaves and needles just aren't really worth keeping. After that, I hung up a load of laundry, put another group through, and will finish those tonight. No more laundry, not tonight, save for any folding or hanging that might be required. With breaks, work, breaks and more work, I finally started up the weed whip. I filled the gas tank, primed it, and got it going. I did just a bit of work with it to know the thing is definitely running. Then, of course, took a break. After several other laundry jobs and breaks, I finally did get out and get going with the whip. I did about forty by ten feet of the higher grasses on the side of the driveway farthest from the house. I also did a a twenty by seven foot section between the house and drive and along the sidewalk which ends that piece of land. Well, with several breaks in there mind you. Actually just two breaks. While sweating and jangled a bit from holding onto the lawn Harley, I am feeling pretty good. Actually the jangle is rather good. It's like a motorized masseuse.

I don't know what I can get to tomorrow. I can't look that far ahead for now. For now though, I am pleased. I am about to call my friend and see if he wants company. When I go into town I could always pick him up something from wherever I am going and stop in with food for a visit. He might not feel up to it though. It would be a good time to talk about our next shooting foray. After this week, assuming Thursday and Friday can be off days, perhaps Friday or Saturday would be good days to shoot. It would be nice to test the ammunition I have reloaded.

Good night.

Missed.

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I heard the alarm at 6:00 and reset it for 6:30, the time I could start trying to contact the V.A. Only, I didn't wake at 6:30. I didn't wake until I received a call at 8:00... from them. Oh well. If I do end up needing this procedure I can probably now accept a very long wait. Then again, on a personal level, I really don't mind.

When I go to the V.A., for most of my visits, doctors have accusingly asked if I had started working yet, gotten a job. Given that I can't reliably get up at any time of day or night and suffer from confusion and exhaustion, and have gone over these details umpteen times, I don't know if they are just jerking my chain or if they actually think the dead can walk. However, now that I have seen something out there they can offer that helps, I dump it right back in their laps without a hitch. I'll work up to getting a job as soon as you find the balls to give me Ritalin again. That ends the conversation with them tucking tale and shutting their face. Smirks disappear too. You see, while they are quite willing to 'be brave to disability', they aren't willing to put their precious little asses on the line. All talk. I must admit it does make my sessions there much easier.

It's late, I've not gained focus, and I probably won't. Long days of travel and appointments, added to the stress of some serious decision making, leave me more exhausted than usual. Today is no exception. I would like to find a way to spend that time at least hiking a bit a few times a week. I'm not sure it is possible as concentration must be good enough to figure out where to go that is reasonable in my condition to hike, finding the trail-heads themselves physically, and then having enough umph to actually get there. I had a number of possible hiking trails figured out but I can't find the book or my notes. Simply put, a random hike which might be seven to fourteen miles or more with steep inclines might... not be a good starter. I really need to know what I am getting into. Even some four mile hikes I have seen are beyond me. When you go up seemingly half of what you go out, you really work. Sure, I did that and on skis (which arguably is easier with some balance), it took five to six hours and two weeks to recuperate. And my lady friend, who is supposedly in better shape, took a month to recover. Confusion is as bad as exhaustion. Ritalin clears the air a bit. Further, when that was given I most certainly did begin to work out, get out, and function at a more serious level. Get a job? Grow a pair, I say. You do your job, I will do mine.

Later.

Feeling good, maybe too good?

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I simply cannot sleep. And yet I need to be awake early, at least to make a phone call. While I have no trouble ditching a problematic surgery, regardless of what they tried to intimate, before knowing more, getting my affairs in order, seeing to my pets, and being prepared to stay longer if necessary without it tearing my carefully laid and rather well focused plans apart, I see no need to simply be a technical no-show. Of all the things I do, that seems to actually gall them. Fair enough. At least a call will set things right and make sure I don't get booted to no-where-land should I end up deciding that option is viable.

My side, sometimes both of them now, still hurt. A deep breath can cause a dull light or a seriously sharp pain. If they knew what was causing that today they did not share that information. Perhaps losing 15 pounds of fluid in a few weeks has left something... sagging... inside? Still, that currently isn't even a complaint. I simply feel pretty good. While not quite up to going out, finding Mrs. Right, then dancing her feet off, I do feel rather chipper.

If I can get some more solid data regarding my condition, at times like this, I might well go out and begin hunting Mrs. Right. If there is a future in it. While I have some problems with the woman type, and I do truly enjoy breaking hearts, this is a different thing. I won't get into the thing unless I can continually break her fuzzy little heart for decades, and mend it too... mostly. *evil grins* Take their gold, give em' silver, steal their rubies, give them diamonds, tell em' to roll over it is time and finish before they can fluster... unless she learns to keep the can going in our little game of kick-the-can. I love, and hate, when they learn that little off wiggle... I swear it is the same one that used to make pin-ball games last longer. Too much, game over. Too little, game over. *bump* Just right and the game goes on and on. While that might kill me (though I have some... notion... that it won't) there are worse ways to go.

Blathering. Tired. Just not the right kind of tired to sleep. Might try it anyway. Good night, Hawk.

How in the?

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Have you ever noticed people ordering fat free this, sugar free that, salt free so and such? I've been watching lately. Just... keeping tabs. For my part I have seen no appreciable difference in my health, or weight, due to eating. So I now simply... well... eat whatever calories are available, easy enough to process, and tasty enough to bother doing so. Well, some of the food I eat, for simplicity purposes, has been a bit like warmed cardboard with protein floor scrapings from a slaughter house. So taste can sometimes suffer if I do try to improve when and where I can. In any case, what I have noticed is these finicky eaters are just as fat or fatter than I am. Actually, with the water pills, I am down to 255 and dropping (260 with shoes... I wear big shoes). It amazes me. The other group of healthy eaters who almost look good seem to be... different. While I am quite sure there is nothing like meth or other speeds to keep the waste line trim, even the pharmaceuticals leave tell-tale traces. Do doctors think it isn't noticed? Even doctors are chunky or clunky. It does show. While there are some people out there with Hollywood physics, my guess is few of them even think about there food, no more than I do.

Another oddity I noticed. They read my blog at the V.A. I was pretty sure my last primary did. I did not realize it was so well disseminated though. I won't say everyone there reads, I will say I notice when someone of them does. It seems mostly a doctor and intern thing. But yes, they read here. Some are entertained, most are at least a little ego pricked. Most of them did not realize I know what their odd little grin is about. Mercy mercy, the oddities do abound. *grins*

On the other hand, I believe what I had written here about my friend got back to him. While in one way I don't mind, in another I do. It was only half of the tale. Sure, sure, I'll admit to dealing with him in his poverty. But the other half is he deals with me in my own peculiar poverty. I am a hard man to deal with. I don't negotiate, I don't nod, I don't wink. I'm as gentle to the psyche as a crowbar is to the forehead. *BAM* And when I get on a roll or in a snit I'm a rat bastard. Yeah, not from my way of seeing things but probably from God's, I need compassion in my ways. He offers that and is one of the few who would. I hope this part gets back to him, as well as the fact I don't care to discuss it. That's not how I roll.

As for the doctors, let them think what they like. I don't pull punches, I don't go down easy, and I don't have to be right to say just what I think. Though I usually am. If I could get them to understand one thing it would be this... trust is earned. Earn it or expect to be ignored and used as the weak tools you are. Yes, you do have to convince me. Being surprised at my drop in blood pressure, almost flabbergasted, wasn't a good showing. It means you really don't know what you are doing otherwise this would have been done long ago. Further, if that wasn't their intent... what was? Bah!

Well, on to bed. I scarfed the last of the edam. I even gave Sassy some. Pretty darned pricey cat food but it won the little runt over. She sat in my lap for over an hour tonight for the first time in a week. She is going through weird hormonal shifts, spurred on by a randy tom who comes calling (or yelling, really). She's fixed, some of her knows it some of what she is doesn't know. She gets her disinterest with (hate of) the tom messed up with me being male and I get the scratches! Brat! Maybe that is why she needs so much food. Like a real woman and chocolate or something. Better to feed the she-beast and keep my skin, I think. Let her get fat and stroke out. It's cat bon-bons on the house!

Good night.

Ouch!

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Headache. Bad one. I think, being busy at the hospital, I wasn't allowed to tend fluid and food needs. The sun wasn't out, not while I was driving there, so it probably wasn't that. Though sunshine on the way home didn't help. Meh, I'll figure this out. My blood pressure was 133/96 though, if my pulse was still 101. They checked it twice through the appointments, or more. It really is 133/96. This confuses them because I really am not on blood pressure medicine.

They wanted me to go in for an arterial test and maybe the balloon. But they fibbed to me about the length of time I would have to be immobile, the possible side effects, and the seriousness of the thing itself. I would have had to reschedule two appointments, set a bunch of other things back, and hoped nothing went wrong for the cat's sakes. And worse, I would have had to push that last to almost beyond reason.

They set me up to stay at the hospital for a couple of days, but that won't work. I don't mind a blind roommate if I have a lockable place to put my wallet and keys and if I will not be further incapacitated by a medical procedure and possibly the drugs they use for that. I didn't realize how wrong everything was until shortly after supper. I will have to find a motel which has a shuttle (as I will not be allowed to drive for at least 24 hours from whenever they finish). I could get by with one day, if I would be willing to leave by 4:00, though I should probably put an extra night on hold just in case. Then again, if something goes wrong they might be required to hospitalize me.

Further, I need to make some things clear with the doctors who will be performing this. If they make a mistake, or my arteries fail, they will not have my permission to do open heart surgery. Actually, I will give them zero license to cut me open. If they cannot revive me using non-invasive methods (to include shots, saline, blood, electric shock, heart massage (barring breaking my ribs)) then they will have to let me die. I will not, cannot, be weakened that much living on my own. They better make sure they really want to puff that balloon, and where. This is nonnegotiable. Severe, sure, but I can't handle more disability. I am crawling through life as is. No, no, not a single "but...". No "but"s about it.

I do need to set my alarm to be awake in time to call them tomorrow by 7:00. I don't mind resetting this thing up, but I simply can't do it in this unplanned reckless manner. I also would like to know if this is just a typical test they eventually get to with all people with my condition. I want to know what my condition actually is, something about something or something else and every doctor has a slightly different take. I need solid before I am willing to move forward. Is this simply exploratory? Is this absolutely needed? Are they just guessing? They have to include me in the loop.

I will add a bit more of one of the medicines I am on. If it is a problem, it is a slight problem. So I will give them that. But no more until I know more. Right, wrong, it is simply the way I roll. I really didn't like being mislead about how serious this thing is, how long I would be down (and that as a minimum), or anything else about this. I am not to be kept in the loop, I am the fucking loop. Doctors really need some non-academic education. If they want what they work on not to talk back they need to go into mechanical engineering. HrUHMPH!

Ah well, there is all that. Wow, a little fluid and food really helped. I wasn't sure painkillers would have touched this, and alone I think not. A bit more fluid, afternoon medicines, perhaps some painkillers as well, and I should sleep like a pig in mud on a hot summer day.

Later or good night!

Up and early.

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I woke a good half an hour before my alarm went off. I have gone through my waking routine before I actually thought I would be awake. I might be able to talk to some people about the yard and housework. I still need a shower, grooming, and such so... maybe not. I do move slowly, even without current health issues. The headache is back so... best take Tylenol for what it is worth. Anacin might raise my stats. Cardiology will probably be picky.

I dreamed last night. I dreamed of going through these horrible "medical procedures". They had adult children and other medical staff forcing people through this process. I put up with it for three days, then quit cold turkey. They tried to talk me into it, to get my family to talk me into it, and I would have none of it. I saw what it was doing to people. I couldn't believe what I had even momentarily been talked into voluntarily letting them do to me, or others. And I sounded off about it. If nothing else, I got many others to quit. I shamed those adult children who were all but forcing their parents in there. All that for, maybe, a few months extra life. Really? Beyond I doubted the numbers. I doubt most of the numbers, and understanding, of those who push medical interventions which rip people apart. It is merely more profitable than other options, is more interesting to the sadists elite in the medical field who make this crap up, and people are really considered expendable while their suffering is considered a non-issue. We were just expendable volunteers of ill spent grant money. I think some doctors are going straight to hell. We did beat Hitler right? So, why is Mengele still working? I know he isn't working FOR us. If nothing else I am in the proper frame of mind when going in to see more doctors. I can almost still smell and see... never mind.

My side ache stopped, for a good six hours, yesterday. I am not sure what fixed it. I had a pleasant evening and sleep without it. Just a break, now and then, and I have a chance. Constant pain and discomfort make healing and recovery difficult. I need moments where I can simply relax. It is back, this morning, if mildly. Having been relieved for a bit, that area is ready to shoulder that pain again. A week without pain would be nice, back to the normal before pulmonary edema would be grand. I still couldn't do much but at least life was relatively pain free, with a bit of painkiller once in a while.

Oh, I did try the havarti last night. I was right, eating the stronger edam cheese first threw off my senses. Havarti was rather good. It is much milder, in all ways, than edam. So there are two new cheeses I like, two I don't, and a bunch of others out there to try. And, perhaps, finding other ways to employ the cheeses I don't like might open those. I really wonder, for example, about munster cheese if it is used in a melt.

Have a great day!

I can't help it.

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While I whine about health I have begun to do other things since the slight uptick of health. While I do heal very well, exceptionally, I need a break from the pain and illness in order to do so. I have some hope tomorrow might offer something along those lines. One of those things is considering a new pistol. While, should it go through, I would prefer to carry my full sized .45 most of the time, I have more than one reason to consider other pistols. Though I have owned a number of pistols I have not yet owned a wheel gun, so curiosity itself leads me to look. But more, if given license to carry a concealed firearm, I will hold that license as a duty. To that end, given the heat here for a goodly part of the year, another pistol or two must be considered.

Thanks to having a friend with a 9 mm, a .380, and a .357 who loads for both .357 and .38, I have been able to sample a number of guns, frames, and the notion of a wheel gun on a regular basis. None of those pistols, until meeting him, would I have seriously considered as possibles. I was, sadly, totally stuck on the .45 acp. While I still enjoy, and prefer, the .45 acp, I have learned from both shooting and some new information that all of those calibers and more not only can be but are for all but lousy shots good calibers. As for lousy shots, no caliber will do.

I do enjoy my Springfield XD. A smaller version in 9mm might work well. It is, however, still a rather large firearm. I have looked at a number of .357 pistols, liking the Rhino and the S&W Model 60 (stainless) quite well. I have heard that the Rhino is not near the quality of S&W, so I am researching that. I am also reviewing .380's and .22 magnum pistols. Oddly, the difference between calibers which hit center mass or head (either of those) means little. Generally, stopping the opponent takes slightly over two bullets in those areas, so it comes down to practical accuracy. That requires practice and a good pistol. But I have learned from shooting various calibers and pistols that even some snub-nosed pistols are good to 50 yards, even in my hands. The world of possibilities is suddenly almost unlimited!

My problem with small pistols is obvious to any who has shaken my hand. While my hand is small for my frame, it is rather large in fact. Most belly pistols (derringers and such) are shorter than two knuckles on my index finger with the palm-grip being less than a quarter of my palm. As well, two shots often in such pistols is less than probable stopping power. Some baby automatics are not much better. Perhaps a medium pistol is as small as I should honestly consider. Being larger in body means, perhaps, a better opportunity to conceal a pistol.

Well, that is how I have spent today so far. The notion that a mistake might have been made makes the notion of buying a pistol, obtaining a conceal carry license, and then moving on from there new and exciting. Of course, the first notion will be to buy a hunting secondary short arm and a hunting rifle, but why not mix the hunting back-up pistol with the notion of a carry pistol? I have no belief that I would be using a back-up hunting pistol from more than 30 yards, which means some of the conceal carry pistols would work quite well. As a hiking pistol, and hunting arm, stainless is all but a must as well. While stainless is a little less practical, it could be argued, as a concealed pistol... it could also be argued just the opposite. You WOULD notice a 'bright shiny' suddenly in the hand, so perhaps be less likely to cause a fuss if it was heading that way. With wildcats and black bear around, and some concern of pot grows, the .357 in a smaller frame would work well. Yes, I have pretty much talked myself into a .357. The question is, most likely, the Rhino or the Model 60? Any thoughts?

Well, I am going to try to do some religious study too. Father called recently, but sounded rather busy. So I have been holding off, while trying to get all of my other appointments straight as well. I would like to partake of the sacrament of reconciliation when I go in. So I would like to go through the commandments and look over venial sins. I know some of them to discuss but I want to be a bit more sure. If I can focus to read, that is. Yeah, there is that.

Later.

How long can pain continue?

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After three months of deteriorating breathing and then a reprieve, I suppose I know what bad is. Those final weeks were excruciating. I literally never could catch my breath save those rare times when I could sleep, and then only being able to sleep for short times. Okay, that was bad. I received a week or so of nearly pain free normalcy, if my stamina had rotted and the depth of my ability to push that was and is still compromised by breathing issues. But the little pains that have come up are the main complaint at this point. The main one is a constant pain in my right side. A deeper breath, moving much, and sometimes just because, the pain will go from mild but constant to being like a cut. The pain will cause me to lose track and wince when severe. I hope they figure out what is causing that.

Because doing much increases pain and causes panting I have been doing very little and doing what I do slowly, my body is simply becoming grumpy. Inactivity has become a prison, one that actually is bringing about pains on it's own. Despite being relatively inactive before, when I used to do things, I did them with an absolute gusto. Getting out of my chair to go to the kitchen or to the restroom was a blur. Waking in the morning, at least physically getting out of bed, was done in a flash. Legs were kicked out to give some momentum, the rest of the corpse was pulled along, and I was up, out, and in my chair faster than a cat realizing the cat food bowl was full. *blink* Now I am having to do things slowly, cautiously. Probably not quite 'old man' slow, but much slower than I am wont to do things. Even dizziness, to a degree, plagues me. I think one or more of the medicines causes that.

The urinalysis and a blood pressure check will happen today. Hopefully they can figure something out or come my way a bit if they see their medicine is rather ineffective at the level I can tolerate it. The weather is poised to favor outdoor activity. If they could offer a little assistance, I think simply getting out, on top of juggling medicine, I could find health again. Neither of us trusts the other, of course. They believe in their pills, I believe in my corpse. I realize my body is not like Johnny, Billy, and definitely not like Sue. It heals, it regains strength, and it handles pain and damage like few others. Perhaps they are right, perhaps what I have seen work is ill advised. But doing nothing, or too little, will yield the same result. Work with me, damn it! But with me, not over me or through me. I have to be dealt with both biologically and mentally. We will see.

I did like the edam cheese. I am thinking about the havarti. I will have to try cheeses separately, as they don't necessarily mix well. The stronger cheese will overpower the notes of the milder cheese, especially if eaten first. Cheese eating, even French, but no surrender monkey lives here. I only keep a white flag for attackers who might have forgotten theirs. The only thing that could be bottled here is whine. Fresh or vintage, I keep that on tap and store the best of it at the proper temperature and humidity. Then again, if I had a bit more on the ball, I probably would keep a couple of cases of good table wine on hand. I am not sure if wine enhances good cheese or allows bad cheese to pass muster more easily, as both are qualities of the stuff. Blathering!

Later.

Bed time anyway.

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I could not get to a thing today. So what, other than it is annoying. I tried a couple of doses of Anacin through the day but that only dulled the aches and pains. I simply could not focus. If I could get my mind to activate my body, I would be fine. My mind works well enough, within the fish bowl it swims. But the body is in bad shape. Like a plane, listing to one side, half of the engines blown and one of them possibly on fire, a compromised hydraulic system, and and uncertain state of landing gear position, my body limps through life. The pilot and copilot (and passengers) can yell all they like, panic won't help and might hurt. Hmm, where is the airport again? Frag, navigation is out. I guess I have to play it by ear and use the comm to guide me.

I need to try and get the 24-hour urinalysis completed tomorrow. Taking that in right before my appointment will allow them to look for... other stuff. There is a specific chemical I would like checked myself. The last time I saw my primary, it was indicated that the chemical would indeed be checked. It hadn't been on the list though, it was supposed to have been added via my request. I will have to review some material to find the name of the stuff I want them to check and then make sure, when I take it in, that they are checking for it. If not a few phone calls might see to making sure the test goes forward. It might be nothing or it could be 30% to 60% of my problems, perhaps even the root of many of my problems. I have about a 10% chance that it could be a part of the problem (or the root). The only way to check for it is this test and this is the first time I have had such a test.

Sassy has chilled. She has become rather moody though. Fine, so long as she quits clambering for food every five minutes. I am probably feeding her too much as is. Maybe I have spoiled her to date, though I don't think so. I did feed her when she was growing, as much as she could eat. But I quit that some months ago as her appetite seemingly shrank. Why the sudden absolute craze for food? She doesn't want attention, she doesn't care to play, she just WANTS FOOD! Calm, though, tonight. A little time-out outside, maybe an hour, and she is all cold-shoulder. One more feeding and for them, and maybe me, then bedtime.

I have been trying various cheeses lately. My friend had several suggestions. Edam was one. I tried the other but I simply didn't care for it. I also bought munster and havarti. I tried the munster, earlier, with crackers. It's not my favorite either. I will try the edam, havarti, or both before going to bed. I have my doubts after trying two and not really caring for them. Then again, I have enough that if I ever get back to cooking even a bit, I can grill some of them with or without tuna or chicken chunks, or... something else. Still, it is nice to be exploring the world of cuisine again. Maybe I am just a cheddar guy, actually usually preferring medium anymore (or always, just refusing to relent on very aged). A little moist, a little cheddar flavor, more soft. Then again, brands can really make a difference. A good cheese versus a genero-rot-gut-cheese can be the difference between indifference, hate, and love.

Good night. Never mind the ghosts, they can't hurt you. They are probably a part of you. Boo!