Tuesday, December 17, 2013

So We Begin, Again. Poor old Michael Finnagin, Beginagain

  Okay, so maybe "Begin Again" is a little overstated. It's more like "still" or "continuing", but neither one of those rhyme. And for some reason, that's the only part of that old Irish poem I remember, the line that ends the refrain. I know that eventually I'm going to run head on into Critical Mass, and that will be that. There's a very tiny part of me that says "Oh Thank God! Finally!", because that tiny part of me is tired of the fight. Then there's the really large part of me that says "No shit?? Oh hell no, I'm not even close to being done. Nope, can't allow that, not yet". I've been mentally and physically preparing myself for the time that Critical Mass arrives, knowing full well that I'm not really certain when it's going to be here. For 5 months I've been trying to steel my nerves into the realization that, fuck yeah, the cancer is gonna kill my body. Five months ain't enough time, you know. No where close to enough time. There are people I haven't seen yet, that I need to see, because in one way or another they helped make me, me. That sounds silly, and a touch sophomoric, I know. The fact remains that they've impacted my life for good or bad, and they deserve a hello in person, or as best as I can get around to it. It's not enough time to spend with the family either. I'd had these silly plans of all of us going on a one time vacation together. It wasn't going to be exotic, or overseas, or anything like that. Probably just a big assed cabin in the High Lonesome for a few days, because it would be quiet, and we could enjoy each others company better. I've not had enough time to impart upon my youngest son on how to live to be a stand up guy, because living to be a stand up guy is truly living, not just marking time. Anyway, Critical Mass is on it's way, whether or not I like it. Time to suck it up, pull on my big boy boots, and start learning to relax.

   As some may know, yesterday I ran a late blog that also dealt with my bleeding issue that really kicked into overdrive yesterday. That's part of what brought me to the Critical Mass paragraph that opens todays blab. I've kind of gotten mixed reviews from the family on how long is long enough to stay before I go to Hospice House, where I can get full time help with my bleeding. And they may be able to control it some there, whereas at home, I can't control it very well. I can't control it well at home because we don't have the set up for it, and eventually I'm going to have to have a lot of help to get done what needs to be done. Also, the thought of helping me for a while as the bleeding gets worse, worries a couple of people in the family. I don't blame them for being worried. I would be as well. And while they are the best parts of me, they aren't me. They get the benefit of being able to say "I don't think I could do a good job taking care of you as they can in Hospice House". That's a true statement, and they are strong enough to admit openly to me that they can't. That makes them tougher than I am. I'd try until I was standing waist deep in it before I'd admit I couldn't handle the work. My family is much smarter and wiser than I am. The others, well, they want me around as long as I can be around. Same thing I want. But, I've been known to cheat to ensure I get what I want. You know, like adding weights from the gym to my leather jacket so I didn't lose so much weight during radiation therapy, and have to get a feeding tube put in. I cheated, I didn't get the tube, but I lost 65# as well. That took forever to start gaining back. Yep, I got my way, but I paid through the nose to get there. Silly boy.
  I still am having the ongoing pain issue in my right jaw. That I fear, will never go away, and in all likely hood get worse. Liz doesn't want to see me in pain. Hell, "I" don't wanna see me in pain either, but it really upsets her. That breaks my heart. So, I wait until I think she is about to be home, and I dose up with morphine. That's doing the ticket so far, but I'm not certain for how long that will last. I'm doing my damnedest to keep everything on as even a keel as is possible, and for now I'm able to control the biggest parts of that. I believe, though, that eventually no one is going to be hide the pain from them. That is also part of my equation as to when I got to Hospice House. The Fam can come visit, but the pressure is off all of us as to whether or not I'm getting what I need to get by. And quite frankly, that's what I'm doing now, I'm getting by. Without a lot of pain or bleeding mess. I like that for now. And I'll work on keeping it that way for as long as I'm able.

 I don't have a "Bucket List". I don't believe I need one. Let's review a bit, and maybe you'll all see why I don't think I need one. You know, outside of the fact I do pretty well what I want, 95% of the time.
I've been to Scotland, with the youngest kids and Liz. Great trip, absolutely beautiful. I'd like to do that again, but if I don't, ain't no skin off my ass, I've been there.
I've Toured on a Motorcycle: Yep, more than a few short rides, and with one of my best friends to Bike Week in Daytona Beach Florida. We had more planned, but I've done this, so it's a scratch
I Found One Person That I Want To Spend All My Time With: Married her. No need to expand upon that, I don't think.
Been Inside An Extinct Volcano: In New Mexico, Mt Capulin. Up what's left of the cinder cone, down into the cone where they cemented in a fumerole. Cool, actually
Seen Sunrise and Sunset On Both Coasts: Probably something a lot of people have done. So have I LOL
Helped Pull A Man From A Burning Car: First Weekend in May, 2012. The Guy Wrecked, I stopped Fat Girl off on the shoulder. Crossed 5 lanes of traffic with 2 other men and a cop. I got in the car to steady his head/neck while the other folks pulled him out. The cop mostly watched. Hmmmm
Saw a Mountain Lion Up Close and Personal: Pop and I were have a cup and a smoke in a resort we vacationed at in Colorado. Beautiful morning. Mountain Lion walks between two cabins. Gave us the eye from about 15' away. Got bored and went about it's rat killin. Glad the old man taught me how to be very still. Sometimes those old hunting lessons come in handy
I'm a Highland Games Athlete: Small group of people that do extraordinary things with heavy metal and long timber. I'm blessed they let me play along
Been to Jamaica, Twice: Alone, that's no big deal. What makes it a big deal is coming home and wanting to send the American Poor to Jamaica, so they can see what poor really is. Stop bitching
 Now, I know that's not a long list of things, but with it, why in God's name would I need a list of things I wanted to do, when I do them anyway? If you're on your last legs is no fucking time to decide "OH!!! If Only I'd  X,Y,and Z'd!" No shit. Too damn late, pin head. Do it while you're young. The Bucket List is something that needs built without thinking about it. You see something you'd like to do, go for it! Use some common sense, though. If one of the things you want to do is run the bulls in Spain, do it before you have a family.

   Back when we lived on the ranch, the Old Man had put up a platform in a tree in the back yard. Cool place to sit and hide out. But, I got tired of piss anting snacks and shit up the board ladder one or two at a time. I scrounged a length of soft rope, not very big, but enough to do the job, and an old pulley from the barn. So, I get the pulley hung up where I wanted it, fed the rope through, and started down. Well, I didn't figure on the pulley being so free, and I had the rope stuffed through it too far on one end and the rope beat me to the ground. My temper won. I went back up, restrung the rope, then tied that end to the tree. It ain't comin out this time. Back down I go, with the idea I'd make a stop, in case the rope got away from one of us, it'd stop before what we were lifting hit the ground. Rope slung over one shoulder, I head up, turn to listen to something by little bother was saying, and turned back. Rope is now wrapped around my neck and shoulder.
 Why yes, I did slip. Only about 3' off the ground. Rope stopped and then got really tight around me neck and shoulder. My toes would almost touch the ground. I look for the little brother, he's gone. Bear in mind, it wasn't choking me yet, but it was getting tighter all the time. Hmmmm, panic? A bit, yes. I kept a sharp pocket knife with me then. Dug around in my pockets until I found it. Rope getting snugger by the minute. And cut myself loose. I sat on the ground for a while. Went back up the tree, took down the pulley, rolled up the rope and put it in the burn barrel, put the trash in and lit the fire so it would burn every thing. No evidence. Put the pulley back in the barn, next to the block and tackle where I found it.
  I finally told Ma and Pop in 2003. They had no clue. Which is how I intended that to go. I didn't lie, actually. I left out important portions of that days dialogue of "What did you do today?" "Well, mom, I damn near hanged myself putting a rope pulley in the tree house". See how that might have not be productive? Where as when she asked that, I said "Oh, played out back (true) saddled Red and checked the cattle (true), combed and fed Red (true), cleaned out the tack room in the calving shed(true)."
See how that works out? No a lie one, just an intentional avoidance of one part of the days fun and games. Next time, maybe, "How the Hell Do I Get the Raccoon Off The Labrador's Face?"

 Have fun today, kids. Do something I would. That should leave you plenty of lee way

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