Blood, Work, Weekend

In the darkness of morning and I’m draining blood.  Today is the day of my Daughter's birthday party, which I am fairly determined to attend and enjoy.  I walked a lot yesterday evening, including one big uphill event and I hope that is the cause.  The animal has no way of knowing my plans, nor does it care.  I refuse to believe at this point the animal is active at the tumor site.  This generally takes me down a couple of notches.  I am dejected.  I am bleeding a lot.  I pass clots without warning that while not causing excruciating pain still involuntarily buckle knees.  It makes me fear like old Fred did that ‘this is the big one Earl’.

Six AM and I am feeling great otherwise.  Tucker and I watched Highway Patrol and Sea Hunt on the local movie channel.  I love the old b&w TV shows.  Tucker had me pet her briefly then advised me it was time to quit that crap and settled in on the ottoman to watch TV.  Vanessa just arose, she gets up and the sun shines in my life, huh.  We have a big day ahead.  In a nice phone visit with my generally medicated and levitated Sister last night I said I was learning the virtues of being stoned all the time like she is.  I suppose there is a great possibility it could come to something like that at the end for me but not now.  A very small dose of oxycodone is applied as required, at intervals not less than 4 hours.  This is applied when things get ‘chronic’.  Chronic is a term we settled on to describe a situation where pain medication is required.  This generally includes stuff that hurts a lot or for a long time or flares of pain individually or in groups.
 I am pumped up about work and got lots of stuff in the hopper to work on which makes capitalizing on non driving time easy.  I am blessed to have such a career, I only wish I could figure out how to make money at it.  Like the gamblerholic I am hooked on the so close game and as previously outlined dig the gig.  

Having said all that, today I will live with it without discussion, manage my own issues, take advantage of a driver and be as stoned as required short of passing out if needed.  Today I will have a good time, period.  How can I go wrong?  Soon the beautiful Inger will be in for our rehab session.  While I dearly desire my legs to look ‘good’ Inger’s careful inspection will reveal the true condition.  Of late the left one has been a problem along with center.  If it is bad Inger will work longer and many times with greater pressure.  Pain and pleasure are truly two sides of the same card when properly applied.

Whew.  So I want to be good, but it is so good when I am bad.  Hokey smokes, hooked on the treatment.  This is kind of like what someone would say if they were hooked on their vicodin. 

I’ve noticed that whenever I see someone I have not seen in a few weeks I get the ‘you look really good’ comment, or ‘you are looking good’ or something of that variety.  Lately if I see the same party again a week or two later I get ‘you look a lot better’ comment.  Seeing pictures of myself is something of a shock.  I feel like I have a drawn look about me and I feel like I look very small.  From a guy whose face looks like a worn out baseball glove anyway it hardly seems in character to worry at all about how one looks.  Yet I cannot help but think I must have looked like hell the last time they saw me to say I look a lot better now.  Of course, what do you say to a person carrying the animal?  I understand how awkward it must be. 

The weekend went by fast.  We got to go to Jocelyn’s birthday party, a real honor for us I think, with dinner at a Spanish restaurant, nicely stocked bar at the house and in the company of her Sister, Husband and a few close friends of hers.  Sunday I vegetated with the wind howling in the afternoon and through the night.  I passed a lot of blood Saturday but it cleared up Sunday and I am working on increasing my retention time now as I appear to finally be well enough to work at it.