Its the 3rd and I survived yesterday. Starting to make appointments for all these new tests an evaluations. I gotta get up early again tomorrow. Bye.

Today is an extreme headache - or is it comedy of errors - or is it cluster ----. I made it to Mather VA Medical Center and talked to the coordinator for the bone-marrow transplant. Wow. I have to get a page full of tests done. I had blood drawn there so that when I get to Martinez for a blood transfusion they can go right into it and when I got there (Martinez) they said that they still needed a vial drawn that they don't draw blood "out-of-house" like they did. So they tried to run a line and it didn't work for the transfusion - so they poked me again to find a good vein. Just now (1:24pm) the tube in my arm was backing up red blood in a regular pattern seperate from the heartbeat. She says "That's odd." I don't need to hear that - I'm already odd. She re-did the tubing and apparently its working OK.

I lost my cell phone. Turns out it fell off my belt back at her (wife) house in the driveway (no one spotted it). They rescheduled a 9:30 appointment for 9:00 and they didn't see me until 9:45 (hurry up and wait). I was waiting for them to see me and I had this laptop with me and when nothing was happening with the appointment, I told myself that I can speed things up if I start to do something on the laptop. Sure enough as soon as I entered my password, the guy comes through the door looking for "Mr. Gulley?" When I was waiting for the wife to call me about my brother's phone number because I didn't have it - it was on the lost cell phone. She had my brother's phone number and I had to call him to give me a ride to (here) Martinez for the blood transfusion. As soon as the guy at Mather sticks the needle in my arm she calls me, to the second. But then when I get to Martinez the guy drawing the blood in Mather apparently made a mistake and they needed to draw it again. I can't make this stuff up.

She (coordinator) said they pay for transportation to Seattle (where they do the transplant) but they don't pay for food. They put me up in an apartment and I still need to find someone who can stay with me for a couple months, or three months. It may have to be the wife but all the "bill paying" and other obligations have to be handled remote, or something. It all sounds quite insane from my perspective waiting now for a bag of blood and writing this on a laptop (I won't be able to upload this till I get home to my wi-fi). ------------ Well its the next day (4:55AM - yes I need to get some sleep). I've got a whoe boat-load of problems to deal with now - joy, joy. If anyone wants to spend some time watching me recover in Seattle, let me know. How is it possible I'm writing sentences like that?

Happy New Year! 2013. Meh, ha. Sorry, I'm still being cynical (last post). Good news is my living and "actual" brother has the time to drive me back from Mather and spend the day. He's not working that day and we can catch up. After driving a semi-truck for twenty eight years, he's decided to try something else. I told him to not do anything for a while first. Most people call that unemployment - its actually a window to something entirely ignored otherwise. "Close one door and another will open." "Don't eat yellow snow grasshopper."
I'm being flip, as usual - [no one knows this: All through high school - I got kicked around and survived highschool in urban Milwaukee, Wisconsin when "racism" meant something. The point is I was the most "sarcastic" animal you'd never want to meet. I remember almost everything coming out of my mouth as a quip, a witicism, or smarmy one-thing-or-another. Flip.] I don't get feedback on my writing so it may come across as cynical, preachy, confusing, inflated. I enjoy English as a language (listen to him - he only knows one language - Nee gavaroo pah rooskie). I like playing with them and I don't know what my playing creates - meaningwise. Anyway words can go in the oddest places. Maybe that's why I aspire to being a writer. Actually I really can't do much else, until I get out of this medical knot I'm in. I did the script (Pilgrim) but that is for a very small audience. The script is a "story" and that could be a novel and that's the next logical step - so I have enough to keep me busy. Stay motivated. Oh.

I wanted to make a (smarmy?) remark about "Sagittarian Luck." Sagittarian luck (as I understand it) I couldn't find on Google. It was understood by an other Sagittarian I met one time. It is when something terrible happens to you, and it looks like the world is going to fall apart - if there is a way around it, some cheap and accidental way - it would happen to a Sagittarian more than the other sign. Dumb luck. A break-even or reversal success. I relied on it once when the old truck I was driving broke down somewhere in Utah. I laid on the roof, checked out the stars, the highway patrol came, picked up a lifter rod, threw it in and was gone. The woman who was with me however, at the time, was hysterical. She was a Leo.

At any rate - 2013, twenty-thirteen, its just me, but it feels creepy saying it. Its here and we have to deal with it...like how we dealt with 2012 (sarcasm).
I hope for the best for everybody. I hope for peace. Hoping for anything more than that is pointless. I hope there will be no more war. You know they're going to kill each other if they can. Or, I hope the world will not starve to death. The world will do whatever it wants including starve every last living thing to death, and then hang for a billion years or so and make it all happen all over again. What I "hope" doesn't mean much. But I can hope anyway. :P

I'm babbling and trying to teach myself English. You're masochistic if you read every word of this. If you are reading every word, fine - its your time, I try to entertain myself while I'm doing it. Sometimes I do and sometimes it sparks an idea for something else and I guess by putting all this out there into the world; you (reader) are along for the ride. Its 2:15 AM on 1/1/13 - I get to sleep all day and being a quart low in blood that's easy to do. Ha.

Well, I found out today that my red blood count is at 7.3, which is low enough that I need a blood transfusion. The problem is my damn timing and the universe. Wednesday is the 1st and they scheduled an appointment for me to meet with the "big" man at Mather Airforce Base in Sacramento. The "only" time they can schedule me for this Wednesday January 2 at 9AM(?) I live in East Oakland and they want me in Sacramento by 9AM (pricks). So the first day of the new year they schedule me first thing in the morning when it is impossible for me to make it there. The reason its impossible is because they don't want me to drive myself there because there is a threat that I could pass out while driving because of the low red blood cell count. The other issue is tomorrow is a holiday and no one works on the 1st so I guess I'm not sick enough to be taken care of tomorrow but I am too sick to be taken care of any other day except the day after. I said I could get up at six and drive myself there but they don't want me to do that so I have to find someone to drive me. These people don't live in the real world - Or, my world isn't real and they are just playing their parts. The wife is working the Lion King in San Francisco and lord knows the "show must go on." I have to give blood so they can set up the transfusion (give blood to get blood - bullshit). Then they have to send the blood to Martinez to give it to me, so I am back in my neck of the woods. The wife can give me a ride there but she has to be in SF by 12:30PM which is cutting it close. It takes two hours to get the blood in me, so when I get back to Martinez I have to sit there for a while and it will be more than three hours because they love to make us wait for things to happen. I could take a cab - and it may come down to that.

Between now and then if I pass out I'm supposed to admit myself to the nearest hospital? I can't believe they think that's an option when it takes weeks for the paperwork. Why can't they schedule me later in the day, so I don't have to fight commuter traffic all the way from East Oakland to Sacramento? Why do they give me chemo on the week of Christmas so that my red blood cell count would be down the week of New Years? Why can't all this be on January 15 or something? I could drive to Martinez and drop off the truck and then the wife can go from Sacto to SF straight away after dropping me off in Martinez and then I can drive myself home- I think. But I'm afraid if the security guys see my truck parked all by itself in the parking lot before the Martinez clinic opens - they may have it towed away. They tell me to take a shuttle that the VA provides to go to Mather but the shuttle doesn't leave until 8:30AM and there is no physical way in this universe to make it from Martinez to Mather in a half hour. If they could hear themselves they'd be ashamed - maybe not - they do it all the time. Why am I so "out-of sync!" I'm either too old or not old enough, too sick or not sick enough, conflicting dates, and on and on and on. No one believes it but I cannot for the life of me figure out why I'm here. I keep believing in myself - that's one reason - but at the same time, I'm obviously in the way - at least it feels that way. And I look around and other people's lives seem to "flow" smoothly, everything relatively fine. I know I'm not alone in the problem department. There's a whole lot more people worse off than I am and I probably sound silly to all them. (I'm deleting a whole bunch of stuff about alienation - de-program myself, or try). So I have a balancing act (actually I don't have enough people in my life that are available to help me, which is entirely understandable to me) this week I have no idea how I'm going to pull it off. It will happen, and I'll still be here a week from now. Also in a week from now I'm going to be sitting here with all the time in the world and all this could happen then. But NO, it always has to be this impossible sh*t. Whatever.

So its the end of 2012 - it was a "non"-year for me. Couldn't work to make any money, couldn't even volunteer. Couldn't finish fixing the place I'm living in. Couldn't do anything except wait to get sicker.

(I'm re-reading this after about an hour thinking about what I wrote before. Its still true - but how am I supposed to absorb a sentence like that? Wait to get sicker - I hope a year from now I'll read all these rants over again and think: What a whiner. I have written this sort of "confessional psycho-babble" before, in diaries; you may not be used to it. Being "this" is a notebook in which any damn thing may wind up. "Venting" may be one of those things. And then again I may be writing what you're thinking. I'm not doing this to strike chords with anyone. I'm doing this so I don't forget! I have to remind myself however that my pants are down. I've opened this up to the public and I know my family reads this and if they don't know already they should know that I'm from another planet. I also don't know what you can handle - I'm Sagittarius, and if you don't know what that means, you should. I'm liable to say anything at the wrong time and regret it. I delete stuff all the time. I can get into these whole dissertations only to delete it afterward. Again, I'm trying to practice writing, and sometimes I get things off my chest.

And then I also have to remind myself that no one may ever read this.

All I got out of 2012 is loss and frustration. I'm sorry to say that's the way its always been. If I hear one more more insipid complaint from someone about how hard things are for them when all they are doing is whinning - I don't know what I'm going to do. I just know I can't handle trying to make other people's lives easier for them anymore. I'm loosing my identity? I'm not going to miss hearing about other people's crap. If I can loose the part of me that is constantly getting kicked around, fine. Maybe I have to be a whiny child and things will start going my way. Nope - can't do that. So the next best thing is DO IT - whatever they remember to throw at me. The joke is on them though because day by day - I'm caring a whole lot less about all of it.

If you've been visiting this blog on a regular basis you probably noticed that what I thought was the "25"th of December (last post) was actually dated the "30"th of December for the past week. I fixed it.

I had chemo for the last time till three weeks from now. (Stupid way to say once a month, five days in a row.) At any rate - I'm still here and the year is coming to an end. Time is zipping right along - its so fast it went right past the end of the world(?)

I have to get into the habit of typing. With the end result being writing stories. I have time on my hands and I'm not using it correctly. I don't know why I have a compunction to write, and then when its the "only" thing I can do - I can't "do" it 'cause I'm blocked. I have a bunch of stories in my head that would be fun to write, I think.

Writing is hard work. Its easy not to do it - its hard to be able to do it at all. I'm trying to break through a "block" I'm in.
So, I need to start writing stuff and stick it in the "Writing" link from the main page. I want to do all kinds of stuff and there's no way - that's what's hard getting used to. And before you know it, its over.

In other words: Rants even. Essays about guns for example - Not. I'm caring less about the whole gun thing by the minute. I know at least no one will die from a gun I never owned. I could try a short-story, I started a couple (the problem is "finishing" them). But I have enough ideas to keep me busy for a very long time - yep, longer than I'll be around anymore to worry about it. Life is silly.

Which reminds me of the paranormal stuff. I actually took myself to the ship for about three hours to take part in a ghost hunt. Questionalble K2 activity in the Admiral's Stateroom. Freezing cold. I was warm enough but even with the vicadin I ached in the hip joints and lower back. I'm not supposed to be in public without wearing a mask BUT it looks like I survived. I had the mask with me but I didn't use it. I tried to stay clear of people, although the one woman was blowing her nose into a handkerchief. It could be I could loose ten pounds too. I guess you could say this idea is more philosophical than paralogical: The universe will fill every nook and cranny, every energy field and vibration, every concious expectation - to simply experience itself. An infinite point of view, or a single conciousness with no agenda, just existing and experiencing. (play theme for Twilight Zone) =>

Well its Christmas. Merry Christmas, happy holidays, all that artificial lights in the darkest days into winter. Brrrrr. Taisia (the wife) got me into decorating for the "holidays" (Russians celebrate Christmas on New Years- go figure-actually I think its the week after New Year's or somewhere in there, but who's counting). I have a hard time connecting when Christmas Eve I had a chemo treatment and I have three more this week. Feeling nauseous and pain in the joints kinda pulls one out of the "festive" nature of things. Its all good. I'm told I can't be around people without a mask on (my red blood cells dropped again from last week). I'm officially sick of wearing the mask, so I'd rather stay home than do that anymore - or just risk it (being around other people who might give me a germ) and get me sicker than I already am - hard to believe. So here I sit on the brink, waiting to talk to people in the next couple weeks that will decide my fate. Its entirely out of my hands. I can carry on like the one guy in the oncology clinic that said he wanted to cancel his chemo until he talked to the doctor first. I think he has the process "backwards" but what the hell - its "his" life (or not) right? I'm through caring about these stuborn "know everything better than thou" creeps out there. And then again maybe I'm the creep and I'm just counting the days and wearing a brave face kidding myself the whole time. Its funny - its the past week where I really started to loose a sense of my "identity." Being and "artist" or a "writer" when in actuality I'm a survivor clinging to life(?) I'm losing touch with the veteran in me. The fearless flightdeck guy. The visual "monster." I feel more like a goldfish bowl or something. Not the proper mood for something like the "holidays."

Whatever. In other news: The world didn't end on the 21st - not that I ever believed it would. I may be a dreamer but I'm not unrealistic. I'm realistic that when we're talking galactic ecliptics and what not, that the 21st is a hopelessly specific number. What good is that when we're tossing lightyears around. The end may come (quake, CME, asteroid, zombie apocalypse, alien intervention, whatever) next month, next year, or in our next lifetime for all we know. Yikes, I guess its good I can't be around people - I'd probably bring 'em all down with my negative musings. I'm negative about a lot of things going on with and without me - on the other hand I'm hoping I get fixed and all "this" will be a (maybe) fascinating look at a guy playing with the end of his rope. Like I said - its out of my hands. I can refer them (doctors) to studies and websites of other's success stories all I want. "They" will do what they think is best - I have no control over that - I can complain - but that still isn't in control.

I have the DAW (digital audio workstation) pretty close to behaving like a recording studio (miracle). The Pentium 4 breaking down caused me to clean out the corner where I had all this (computer stuff) crammed together. Lemonade from lemons? I have a PHD in surviving, so it fits. I really need to repair the Pentium 4 though because ALL MY STUFF IS ON THAT HARD-DRIVE!! Raspberries. If it ain't one thing... I've been programming myself to not say to myself: "What's next?" everytime I (used to) say that something outlandish would inevitably happen. I realized I was setting up my universe to show me indeed "what (stupid unwanted catastrophy) is next." It'll supply all manner of ridiculous headaches if you expect ridiculous headaches. So I don't form the words in my mind anymore (if I can) and it works. For some reason the: "How come I have so much money I don't have to think about it anymore" thought - doesn't seem to be lining up (yet) with me and my universe. It must not believe that I'm serious - I do not want to worry about not having enough money anymore. Yep, I gotta be careful though, because the universe appears to be one dumb-ass son-of-a-bi***, and may interpret that to mean: OK, take me out of existence and I WILL truly not have to think or worry about money anymore. The universe is that powerful (or stupid).

So what I was saying is that the bad luck of the computer crashing may be the spur I needed to get the audio setup further along instead of sitting there hidden in the other mess under(non)-utilized. The DAW is SO together, I have to start worring about: chorus, bridge, keys, bass-lines, lyrics, etc. Which isn't a bad thing but I still have Heidi's painting to finish and a novel to write. Wow, when I type this stuff out it really seems quite hopeless. I better get well or there's no hope whatsoever - right?

There was a day when I was standing in the middle of this (where I live now) un-livable work-site, formerly called a "crack-house" (in most dictionaries) when I asked "God" for help - He (she, it) sent "ME" instead. I'm the only answer that showed up. I'm the only guy who brought it to the cozy (relatively speaking) place it is today. "Me." I was always the "go to guy" for getting "crap" done. It was always me I could trust; until I got this cancer sh*t. Maybe I'm not learning some lesson somewhere. And then again - maybe I am; I'm just reluctant to share what I'm learning because its scary as hell, and not ready for prime-time, or children under twelve years old.

So, its 3:13 AM Christmas morning of 2012 and I'm writing in the blog and about ready to turn in. No chemo today (I guess holidays trump cancer cures). I worry about affording the gas to let them poison me. How's that for a space to be in? And the billionaires don't know what to do with their money (money they couldn't spend in a thousand lifetimes) - just sayin'.

I haven't gone for a walk in some time now (raining and energy). I'm gaining weight and I don't want to go there. I have to drink more water and eat smaller portions of good food. Maybe if I pull through this I will come out a better eater, more aware of what being healthy means, etc. I know one big mistake was buying a six-pack of Toblerone choclate from CostCo - big mistake.

I blew the motherboard on the Pentium 4. I had the cover off and I think I shorted something. So now all that stuff on the hard-drive is stuck. I have another hard-drive that crashed because of itself (Western Digital). Its amazing and lucky that I got this laptop in time. Now that I think of it, maybe the thing (Pentium 4) died of old age. I was crashing and giving me blue screens. Also, luckily all the files from the hard-drive for the website are all "up-loaded" to the website (off my computer) - I'm able to copy them back down "down-load" and edit them again without the original hard-drive. (nerd again-sorry)

Anyway, now I need to fix that and I don't want to waste the time but I think its doable. In other news: not much...had a good rant on Facebook about guns.

This should be an essay or a short story and maybe it will. Its the idea that all this gun-shit could be solved by arming everyone with one gun, six bullets, and that's it. I ran it past a cop, he thought it was a great idea. There is no way it would work - its too RADICAL I admit that. Its a "thought" experiment. Being as I'm extraordinarily lazy tonight I'm just going to copy and paste the text.

For those of you out there who don't have Facebook accounts - we're talking about kids growing up and doing stupid sh*t = (shoot people).

Me- ""Django" (Quentin Tarantino) comes out Christmas day and there's another one I forget. That's how warped we (they) are thinking. Instead of a message of - oh, lets say "love, giving, peace" for example -- let's instead see how many quarts of blood we can splatter all over that wall over there. How high a body count should we get in there. Of course this is what they call "drama" (I think). They are so de-synthesized they can't tell the power between a soft kiss or a head-shot. Merry Christmas! Ho Ho Ho! If you say so. That's why I carry on with Buddha, or astrophysics - but that's just me. When you're an alien it gives one a unique perspective on things. For example: all this whining about guns. To me - the term "gun control" - that is an oxymoron. Just like Naval Intelligence (arr);P A cop agreed with me this is the solution - it may be total science-fiction - but this would eliminate fear and aggression: Everyone gets "one" gun + everyone gets six bullets. That's it. Everyone knows that "everyone" else is armed. "Everyone" can defend themselves. Everyone could kill some one (or six people). Not twenty-six. Here comes the science fiction part: Each round has a micro-chip in it. You fire the gun. You have five left. You fire the gun the GPS knows where to find it if someone winds up dead by getting shot with that bullet. You'd know the "perpetrator," you'd know the "victim." There would be no trials, or they wouldn't take so long. If your bullet winds up killing someone with your gun; you are taken out of society. Your five extra bullets are melted down. - Sounds pretty lunatic right. - But my believing "one gun-every person" is a solution - All it does is shows me how crazy I have to think to try and figure out what we need to do as a society to cope with the existence of guns. Oh, and the money you save by not making a lot of extra guns, you put into helping people with emotional issues that should never get their hands on a gun in the first place. Education would be nice. Use that money for ANY education. - Oh, and the only reason Django will be out on Christmas Day instead of "January" 25th is because most people do not work on Christmas Day and have time to take in a movie, and pay them to have yourself programmed by (enter crap here). I don't know much about The Hobbit - that's probably safe. I read the book way back when - I don't remember bloody mayhem being a problem for middle-earth. Well, maybe there was. - Anyway -- Thanks for the rant. I'm glad I got that out of my system. Peace everyone - and awesome New Year."

I needed the writing practice, the venting opportunity, and questionable benefit of exercising my First Amendment right to make a fool of myself.

Its all good, but its worse than that(?) All these babies we see everywhere,...they're going to think we're all crazy - IMHO.

Oh, and tomorrow the world is supposed to come to an end. ~ If only.

This isn't meant to scare anyone (this place is already too scary) but this is an x-ray video of an asteroid that just passed by.

"Toutatis never posed a threat to Earth on its recent flyby, and researchers say there is no chance it will hit our planet over the next four centuries or so. (Beyond that time, the asteroid's orbit cannot be accurately computed.)" - SPACE.com Staff

I have a functioning laptop now ("this" is being written on the Pentium4). So I'm learning it, and I have no more excuses. I'd write in Pete's over here but it is a popular place and hit or miss. Forget the library. Next to the freeway is nice for the white noise. You might ask: Why the hell don't you write at home? One reason is I feel like cabin fever here and need to get out once in a while. I still shouldn't risk cathcing someone's cold. I'll settle down (I think). See, I'm already getting gabby, the laptop is just sitting there inspiring me by osmosis or something, I guess. The other issue is getting "these" files over to that c: drive and a memory stick would do it and I'm just lazy I guess.

This is for the nerds out there: I was moaning about getting all the text files from the old hard drive to the new computer's hard drive. I could email them, memory stick them - but then I realized I could just as easily upload them to the website from the old computer as usual - access the html page "source" from within the new computer's browser - copy that and paste it into a text editor on the new computer - save that version in that hard drive - which would also be the latest and greatest working version of that file. If you stayed with me through all that you get lollypop in the (e?)mail.

A lot has happened since the last entry. I've had to get sibbling data to a coordinator. I have the new laptop (lenovo x131e) - its amazing - Windows 8. I was on a Pentium 4!! Starving artist sh*t is for the birds and I guess its my birthday Xmas and everything present for this year. Makes me want a bigger machine- I'm being patient with Windows 8. My other machine will become a CD burner or something.

I made a short film: 12/12/12. With a Kodak Zi8 HD (sigh). I wanted to somehow commemorate the fact that the date is the twelfth day, of the twelfth month, of the twelfth year into years that now start their numbers with a "two" in the front.
So, for the relative uniqueness of it (and this bizare time we are in) I ran some footage of street traffic at night. What was more shocking than anything was the video behaved in the editor like its supposed to. Miracles. Actually the video is one take, with text. Ain't no Lucas Film here - or Disney I mean to say.

12/12/12

I think grandma would like it. It is a meditation. I was thinking of a background score, but that may still happen. It totally works for me in the audio resembling waves against a shore, or distant horns. The road is on a hillside today. If it is gone a year from now, we'll at least know what it looked like at 8 PM in the evening of 12/12/12.

Yesterday, (Monday) I had my weekly blood drawn and the numbers came back - down. Hemoglobin (red blood cells) are 8.3. So far that's as low as they've been for months. Now I just went through five days of chemo - maybe that has an effect. I called the nurse to see what the numbers were and she said they were low and would talk to the doc about what to do (transfusion of blood I guess). They never got back to me (at since yesterday). Maybe I'll hear more tomorrow - and then again I meet with the doc next Monday. It could be that this is all just "part of the game" and chasing numbers around is fun, but not getting anything done? I know, trying to find logic in this with a science-fiction mind is my problem. Maybe they're trying to figure out what to do with me.
Looks like "year two" coming up where I'm out of the "holiday" spirit. Christmas "Eve" they want to do a single chemo treatment that Monday, skip Christmas, and then come back and finish out the week with chemo every day for the remainder. 2012 is "really" f*cking with "my" universe - I don't know about how yours is going (whoever finds this and reads it).

What else? Not much. Still stuck creatively and I gotta get out of that - always something. :P

Missed a couple days here. I went to check the websites: www.paranormaldepartment.com. and www.worldvane.com. The cover page (index) of World Vane was on PD; and the cover page of PD was on the World Vane.

I straightened all that out (I think). I'm adding this now. Hopefully everything is where its supposed to be - If it isn't: "and What!?" Nobody reads this sh*t anyway. Its Monday and the blood draw is still flat. Had a chat with the oncologist. I could wind up waiting to get old enough to have this done on Medicare (which for me is sixty-five next november). It may take that long for me to get sicker than I am now so they can eventually do something about. It may take that long for me to find someone to watch over me from one to three months while I recover, instead of having me in a hospital room. We'll see if I can work that one out.

Waiting for my laptop to get here. I like to believe getting a new computer will spur me to get something done with a computer, without worrying about loosing whatever I do manage to do. The house (interior) has been done up in xmas lights. The small fake tree has a couple hundred colored lights on it and looks great. I guess its Chritmas Time. Ho ho!

I've been on the 12-string for most of the day. I forced myself to sleep. I was only getting about 5-6 hours a night for the week I was doing chemo. I realized I'm not suffering writer's block - I'm suffering un-synced bio-rhythm, or something. What's really hard being sick with this is being on the edge unable to swim. I wind up reminding myself that I can't do this or that like I want. Not that I have to remember it, mostly I can't find the energy to put up with it. I think I could go for a walk no problem (which I haven't done for a few days -and its been raining); its just clear I'm not firing on all cyilinders.
I wrote a whole bunch of philosophy about "blockages" and not getting things done. Then I deleted it.

I found a website about 2012. Its kind of amazing: December212012.com. and a lot of stuff.

Today I get this "line" out of my left forearm for giving me the chemo this week. Its really annoying. Wrap it in a bag to take a shower - thats funny. Anyway, I'm still stuck (motivation-wise, the wrap around my arm this week doesn't help much either). I was working on the music software and tried to do an upgrade and totally crashed the program - actually it went to a "blue-screen" once when I tried to send an email. I should get the new laptop in a couple days and maybe things will behave like they're supposed to (I hope).

A few days are getting away from me here - since my last post:

I turned 64 years old (grrr) - I don't believe it. I cooked a small turkey for that birthday (25th). I have a ten year old computer which means I am a technological Neanderthal. We (Taisia and I) decided to bite the bullet and get a laptop for me (in case I get stuck in Seattle for three months - which seems more and more likely). Black Friday, Cyber Monday, cyber coupons, how about black/cyber kiss-my-ass-about-all-that-crap whatever day - helped make that a reality. (The world gets more and more ridiculous by the minute now-a-days.) The laptop is a Lenovo (ThinkPad X131e). Windows 8. We got it on a recommedation of a close friend's son (Cosmo), who is in college and more of a "nerd" than I can ever hope to be. Actually I don't need it to be Windows 8, but there was no extra charge for it (and cross my fingers). It can't be bought retail I found out, so that alone sounds worth it. I think it is a pretty good deal actually.

I had a very heart-warming telephone call from a long-time friend of mine just now; about a conversation we had the other night where I shared my thoughts on negativity and feeding the "light" instead of the "dark." I do, and often (its a Sagittarian thing) run the risk of flapping off the mouth and saying something I wind up regretting the next day; but apparently my words did more good than harm, and that was a tremendous relief - for me.

I had my second day of chemo this week, for the first time since April. I remembered to take the anti-nausea pill like I should. (You do not want to NOT take the anti-nausea pill when you should.) I have three more days this week - then I wait three weeks before I go through another five days in a row (cycle) of chemo. "This" cycle is my 9th! - And I still can't believe any of it. I have not heard from the "next step" yet in all this: find a DNA match - pack up and drive, shuttle, or fly, or teleport myself to a big unkown, etc.

The Bay Area is buckling down for a weekend of rain, but to hear the way they talk (weather report) about it; it sounds like we're having a "Sandy" coming through here. People paying too much attention to the weather now are we? I read the book by Whitley Striber: "The Coming Global Superstorm" before it inspired the movie "The Day After Tomorrow" - and now everyone is using the term: "Superstorm" and buying sandbags. Interesting.

NASA has some big top-secret news to share with the world about a discovery on Mars? F*ck that. Say it. Come on! Or there's nothing there and the media is nuts as usual. Or, NASA is nuts, and trying to be spectacular. Or, they found all our lost keys or something.

OK - I have developments on the EVPs that I posted on the 18th. I just got back home from a Friday night ghost hunt on the Hornet. We had scant activity. Finding nothing is a distinct possibility, and we just have to live with that. One thing that was strange, was we seemed to share a strange feeling of almost falling asleep tiredness, which would completely disappear after a little time and we all seemed to experience it. A couple women felt their hair (bangs) being tossed(?)

What we "debunked" however is the strange "chirping" noise in the bakery. Now again - I have never heard this before that night, but the one woman in our group said she saw seals one day leaping out of the water and playing with the camels (relax- a "camel" is a floating platform that is a separater between the ship and the carrier pier where the Hornet is parked). We heard that noise again last night and she claimed she knew what it was. We went out on the number three aircraft elevator and whistled at the noise we could hear from the water and actually got a response back. So nothing paranormal. Seals. I've seen sting rays, minnows, sand sharks, but never seals. So now I can say that I've "heard" them. In the water they are loud enough to penetrate the steel hull no problem. I mis-credited the "Don't gooo" audio. It wasn't Bob's recording - it was forwarded to use from a visitor. Gotta keep things straight (or try at least). I'm willing to admit I got it wrong. When we can't solve this stuff is when things get exciting.

Healthwise - I feel great. I know I've got a (healing) trek ahead of me - but hey, I'll take what I can get at this point. Its 4:36 AM on the 24th of November though, so I guess I better get my ass to bed. Bye. Tomorrow (Sunday) is my birthday - 64 - yikes! Less than a month and its the "End of the World" - 12/21/12. Ha. =>

Happy Thanksgiving everybody. Just got home from a small gathering of long-time friends and it was great as usual. Did not drive all the way to Sacto and too large a crowd. Not sure how much exposure I can tolerate - but I feel great actually - so it was good. Did a lot of taking about the world, Cloud Atlas, Richmond politics, Bay alarm, and confiscation of firearms - oh, and the end of the world on 12-21-12. Stay thirsty my friends.

OK. again for those following along: I went to the oncologist today. My red and white blood cells are still flat - on low. My platelets however are up ten points to 53(hundredths) which is still too low. I have 7% "blasts" so they have to be delt with now. Before, I was locked in this "limbo" not getting better - not getting worse; which is a little scary too becasue that could be a chronic case of "nowhere" for the rest of my life. Now the cat is out of the bag. I am not declared Leukemic (word?) yet. But the only "fix" is definetly a bone-marrow transplant now. I'm always between ideal - meaning that I'm too young for Medicare which would allow me to go to UC Davis for the transplant. The VA is running the show otherwise and that means that I have to go to them, which is in Seattle or I think Washington D. C.. That is for three months, so I've been told. There are risks. Infections that have to be monitored - stuff like that. I don't know when any of this is going to kick in (when I have to go). Next week they want to put me back on the chemo I had before (April) to help minimize the blasts from developing further.

Its so strange. They have some sort of housing for vets up there for when they do this; I think, and they apparently are "stream-lined" for the process there so I guess I'll get as good a treatment as I can expect for my situation. If I was at UC Davis or Stanford however I would have to have someone stay with me to make sure I take all the pills and what-not; apparently because I can't go through that on my own? Which would mean I'd have to find someone with no life to do that for three months? I don't have "free" people in my world so I guess its good that I can "travel."

Four days have passed since the last entry. Walked two miles for the first time in days. Now its supposed to rain for the rest of the weekend. I managed to go on two investigations (Thursday and Friday) on the Hornet. One of the strangest things that has been happening lately is that a psychic told us that the "spirits" enjoy visiting with us but they "wanted something in return." Trust me - I know how bizarre that sounds but here goes: Now I know the rest of this is going to sound insane, but just stay with me - (at least I'm not the one coming up with this stuff.)

We have been told that "they" had a couple "demands." 1) They would like to have a John Wayne movie to watch. 2) They would like to have a deck of cards; and 3) They would like some musc to listen to. Our ghost hunt crew did that! They brought in CDs of period ('40s) music; a monitor hooked up to a DVD player, and put these in a room that is never used except to visit for investigations (we call it the WarRoom - where military staff used to go over strategy under angle deck of the flight deck during World War II.) They go up there, where no one ever goes normally during the day and turn these things on and play them in the dark. No one can ever say we don't have an "open mind!" The damn effort works! We seem to have had interactions with us and guests, and I personally don't know what to make of it.

It implies some very interesting conclusions (to me), but if I continue with theories at this point, my sanity will be severly questioned.

I want to post a couple EVPs (electronic voice phenomenon) here. I have a couple that are not ready for prime-time (actually they are "R" rated and not very appropriate, and I may build up my nerve later - but I've already said too much). The first is audio in the ship's bakery, next to the enlisted mess deck; which is a couple decks under the hangar deck. We are a group of about seven people. The one woman calls me over to ask me what the noise is they are hearing. One of my functions as a tour guide is that I am familiar with the ship's noises and we often reassure people that what they think is paranormal is nothing more than a deck buckling when you walk on it; or a rope slapping against the hull in the wind; or the tide coming in and making things creak. However, there are the occasional noises that we CAN NOT explain.

I have been on the ship as a tour guide and volunteer for 13 years (not much the last year while I've been sick) and I have NEVER heard this noise. The group left the area and I went back in there by myself to try and capture it again on audio and it was GONE. I have not heard it since. It sounds (maybe) like an animal but it tended to interact with us, and it only happened that "one" time.

Bakery "chirping?" - USS Hornet 11/9/2012

This second noise was captured over a year ago in the Admiral's in-port Stateroom. We all heard it out of thin air. All of us asked at the same time at one point: "What was that?" Again, I never heard it in there before, or since:

"What was that?" Admiral's in-port Stateroom - USS Hornet 7/23/2011

If anyone knows what these sound are - I'd like to know what they are! The only reason they are strange is because they NEVER happen again. If we can duplicate something we can explain it. We can't recreate them because we didn't make them in the first place and their absence after that is conspicuous in itself.

OK, I just have to put this one in here because I've got the "html" right here. This was picked up by Bob Friedmann, one of our crew that does investigations with us. The backstory is that they were in the CPO (Chief Petty Officer's Mess) and decided to move on to another location, and this wound up on his audio recorder. We call it: "Don't Gooo." Check volumn - its a little high.

"Don't Gooo." CPO mess - USS Hornet - date unknown

It is very creepy - Yep, we're hooked. =>

I was over at the "Paranormaldepartment" site last night trying to clean up some of my code and get ready to post new stuff but got frustrated with the colors of some of my links and decided to post a few things in the blog here instead.

Well I'm feeling kind of empty right now. I just got a call from my oncologist about the last bone-marrow biopsy that I had done (4th). Apparently I do have blasts forming - not enough to declare "full blown" Leukemia as yet, but enough to put me back on chemo (last time I had it was April). Its like its starting all over again but the difference now is that the next move "is" a bone-marrow transplant, where before it was a "maybe." Which means a new set of "cycles": 5 days in a row, once a month thereabouts, for who knows how long, and then do the transplant which could be a year in recovery. I don't know how people are going to take it. I don't know how "I'm" going to take it. I'm already at the bottom. Haven't worked for almost a year, and it could be another year, at least (assuming I survive the transplant). This may be "It" after all - as the saying goes. I've come to look at my body as though it is some kind of machine lately. I guess I need to replace the crankshaft soon.

Its funny (rhetorical) that this afternoon I met with my other "shrink" and we tried to figure out how I can change my situation - mentally. There is nothing I can do - I can't get a job (physical) to turn things around; can't make art - I can, but that never became a career. I let myself be led around by people who never knew me (really) my whole life - and here I'm at the (possible) end and pretty much a didn't "Pull it off." "Ha" - is all I can say.

You may think I'm totally insane but I wanted to post some EVPs (yep - "the other side") Electronic Voice Phenomenons, for people who never went to the paranormal site we (I) put up: www.paranormaldepartment.com. I'll get to that later; maybe tomorrow.

Today is a holiday for Veterans. I really hope that some day the concept will be gone from civilization. The idea that we have to kill one another to get what we want. I may be out of my time because I think the world is insane. Now Israel wants to nuke Iran before they get nuked by Iran. I suppose they have rationalized reasons to go to war - they can't live with each other, that much. I suppose if you hate life that much, that's as good a reason as any - to kill each other. Unfortunately we live on the same planet as these assholes.

Personally I wish they would get on with it and get it out of their system, so they have no more "their system" to destroy. If they kill each other - they will be gone. Problem solved. So much hate and fear. Its like Texas. I don't know what to believe from the media anymore but the last crap I heard was that they went out and bought a bunch of guns when Obama won a second term as president. If you love guns I guess that is one way to celebrate losing. Its like comfort food for them. Makes 'em feel warm and safe I guess. Nope - I still don't see the sense of it. Guns are expensive (maybe not in Texas) and you need ammunition too. I always wonder what did they do to others that makes the feel like they need to defend themselves from others. Smells like guilt to me.

What other reasons are they so afraid that they need to buy more guns? Obviously they already have guns (you know they do). I guess they can grow extra trigger fingers to shoot all those extra guns. Its like they will never have enough hate - they will never have enough "power" to protet themselves. The "boogey man" will get them? They moan about the United Nations (no less) coming after their guns. I, for the life of me, cannot figure out how that would physically be possible. There are millions of guns. They would need an army to come after all those guns. They all preach about dying rather than give up their guns. Either way they will be just as dead. Hate begets hate. Guns beget guns apparently. But they don't get it. You cannot collect all the guns that are out there - there are too many. They'd have a hard time getting through East Oakland with an idea like that, or of course Texas. Live by the gun - die by the gun. They are too stupid to realize that an army won't knock on their door. If they put up too much of a fight - they can "carpet bomb" their paranoid ass into oblivion. They have "bigger" guns you see - and aircraft carriers, and drones. If they want you out of the picture - you won't even see it coming. You can't shoot something you can't see. They think we're going to come at each other like the Civil War or something. Thinking like they do is an extinction event. Oh, and what happened with all this belief in God and the "will" of God. What if God wanted you to be in heaven but you're not because you defended yourself against the death that was your destiny? It really doesn't sound like you trust the will of God. It sounds like they are paranoid little creeps with no power except for the hollow-points they bought at Kmart (or some damn stupid place).

Oh, they need guns for "hunting" - because Obama won the election - Huh?

I'm a tour guide on the Hornet and I met a family one time that shared with me the tragedy of their father who was a gun collector and how he managed to shoot his face off cleaning one of his guns. They got rid of all those f*cking guns. Too late for that guy though. I wonder what the last thought was in his mind when it happened. Ah, no, I really don't want to know what was in his head. I don't own a gun and maybe I'm stupid.

I live in East Oakland, California. I live just fine. I have no fear. I am a Vietnam Vet. Bring our men and women home from their wars - give them jobs and homes. Let them raise families. May they live in peace. This blog is much more civil - its also "one-sided." All the naysaying pinheads don't get here to crap on my thoughts. They don't read me either. Kismit. These are just some thoughts I had about guns disguised as a rant.

I went to the "shrink" today and pretty much came to the conclusion that the people in my life who willfully shit on me when I'm trying to help them has been a waste of my life and time, and they should all go to hell - essentially - and I blame myself for where I've landed in my feelings of alienation and powerlessness. Makes sense to me. I spend WAY too much time trying to be a "nice guy" for everyone when I'm really being looked at as a tool to abuse or a fool. Anybody out there think otherwise? Fuck if I care anymore.
I've decided I have to start cleaning house. I already un-friended my second waste of time on Facebook today. If I'm going to be attacked because I have a different history and education than someone, and I'm trying to make a point and there is NO effort to understand AT ALL. Fuck making a point. They can burn in their stupidity; I really can't waste time on that (them) anymore. This hatred of Obama, when he and ALL the rest of the world is trying to fix (clean up) the mess BUSH created; and to have this repeated "magical-thinking" thrown at me to support their "argument" - and I'm supposed to blindly buy it? Fuck that. My days may be numbered; why would I spend the rest of them arguing with stupid people?

What makes me so smart? Nothing. Go away. I've been an Army of "one" my whole life. Let's leave it at that. If you don't like my attitude - please go fuck yourself. If you think I'm crazy - don't come back here again, you're not welcome. I need "real" people in my life. Anything less is my mistake and I must avoid it. Its funny though, because I'll have to carry a sign around with me to remind me to avoid "trying" to help, or give my opinion. No one wants help - from me - that is crystal clear. How about this: You want my help? Pay me. How about that? Oh, I forgot, you can't afford me anymore.

Blood draw is flat again with a little better white blood cells. Raspberries. In other news: today the world watches the United States make a damn fool out of itself. I'm writing this at 2:41 AM on 11/6/12 - election day. Ha ha! I can't wait to see what happens. I did a graphic for the occasion. There is a picture out there of when George Bush landed on the Carrier back when, and declared "Mission Accomplished." He looks so heroic and "top gun" but it was a photo opp. If I have my facts straight it went like this: He was one of four people landing on the flight deck in an S3 Viking. The S3 is a two engine, jet under each wing, sub chaser. All four people have to be seated before the plane will start. If for some reason the pilot is unconcious or hung-over, the ship can fly the plane in on remote-control. Its a perfect Carrier bird, the wind just flows right around it. Bush would have been less safe in bed. At any rate, the picture is self explainatory (maybe not) except for the question I had, which was: What the hell was he (Bush) pointing at? "Hey look at the sea gull!" ...Sorry. He's no action figure...neither is Obama.

So, all over Facebook are these photo-shopped propoganda witicisms. A lot of it we are expected to take as the "truth." A lot of people believe the sh*t "is" the truth. I decided that Obama just got back from space, and a bunch of people will now go out there and believe it. Actually, the people who have seen this ask: "and what?"

Yesterday I managed to walk 1.8 miles. Today I walked 3.5 miles. I ache like hell and I hope I'm doing more good than harm. I put a link together for some of my paintings : HERE and at the "paintings" link on the main page. I want to add more to that over time. All that stuff should be over here anyway instead of on Facebook. If Facebook goes South or I get totally fed up with it, I have the old trusty "Worldvane" Url to run to.

I went on a ghost hunt Wednesday night, Halloween, on the Hornet. Didn't find any evidence, and that's the way it goes. I've been cleaning up the "paintings link" at this site. I want to put all the various stuff I've got in here. I have a few paintings in the albums on Facebook. If I quit Facebook I'll still have the old trusty "Worldvane" site. So I should be posting all that stuff here.

I opened a trial account on the IMDb (Internet Movie Database). IMDb Ken Gulley
I wrote that screenplay (Pilgrim), now I gotta sell it - right? Make myself a movie "presence." I actually have a small filmography, so I guess its appropriate. And then in two weeks I can cancel the "trial" period and become a pumpkin again. Happy Halloween. =)

I had my fourth bone-marrow biopsy today. Now I wait two weeks and see where I stand. Hopefully I will have no "blasts." If I do, I guess I get so sick that I need a bone-marrow transplant. Doesn't sound like fun at all but there's not much I can do about it.

Due to some interest in the paintings I have done - I've started cleaning up the links to the "drawings" and "paintings" on this site. I have such a mix of styles I'm sure most people would be confused about where I'm coming from. I come from what I enjoy doing. Until I get "in demand." (If only) At any rate, I want to post the loose "everything" stuff under "paintings" and then put the "abstract"-looking stuff on its own link at the paintings link. Now that everyone is totally confused - good night. :P

For those out there keeping score: day before yesterday managed to walk two miles. Today I went to the oncologist. No change. Monday, she wants to do another bone-marrow biopsy. They want to see if any "blasts" are forming that could create leukemia. She said maybe I can get into a clinical trial at UCSF or somewhere. I could go to Washington, D.C. for something there, but I'd have to pay for it out of pocket. That ain't gonna happen because I haven't worked for the past year. So I'm in a bind and that's just the way it is. Yesterday I talked to the new "shrink." Pretty much determined that my bad luck and alienation has been chronic for 40 years. Maybe I'll go out and see "Cloud Atlas." I've spent enough time letting Facebook piss me off.

---------------------------

I almost didn't, but I took myself to "Cloud Atlas" anyway. I liked it. I read the article in Entertainment Weekly about it and they (for the fact checkers - Owen Gleiberman wrote the article) gave it a B+. I think it will be way too cerebral for many, eye candy, confusing to bother with. I like to think of myself as a "science-fiction screewriter" (among other things). I'm a nerd. I'm also into physics and philosophy. I'm no mathematician. I can only read about the stuff. I'm gonna loose half the audience here, but the following is being heavily paraphrased. Quantum mechanics (in my mind) offers an infinite number of possible universes to continue on at any given moment. The universe that continues on is defined by our consciousness (what else is there). I wonder did (Lana Wachowski & Tom Tykwer & Andy Wachowski) go there at all.

<<< OK - Something just happened. Somehow I lost a huge rant I had about 10/16/2012. Its gone. I use notepad to do the text editing and I can't go backwards to see what I wrote before I somehow deleted a few (unknown because I saved and up-loaded over the top of what was already there) days and uploaded the latest edit and that stuff isn't there. So forget it. If you read it before I lost it, fine. If you read it you'd know I was pissed about a lot of stuff I'm not writing again, and maybe it all should be "lost." >>>

Otherwise:

Walked 2.6 miles yesterday evening. Re-read what I wrote yesterday in this blog and I guess I was more pissed about the jerk in the hardware store then I thought. Whatever. I went to the VA outpatient today and talked to a shrink. Interesting visit. Evaluating attitudes; personal definitions. Otherwise the day was sunny and without much stress. I spend too much time on FB. I get caught up in people's opinions about whatever, mostly because I can't believe a lot of it, and I guess I enjoy train wrecks? At any rate, I'm still here and so are we all. I'm thinking of doing a "cover" of Skyfall (Bond movie theme). I figured it out on the keyboard last night. I've been in my head a lot "writing" (meditating) about the stories I want to write. I know I wanted to be able to submit an additional screenplay to the Nicholl Fellowship in May next year but "I gotta write the damn thing first!" I haven't been working on Heidi's painting like I want to. I'm somewhat "stuck" and I think I may have to tear into the other paintings (the abstract sh*t) and get that out of my system so I can move on. I'm also stuck knowing I have less then $100 to my name (till the end of the month). Things could be a whole lot worse thought so I have little to complain about really. I could be sleeping under the freeway for example.

Walked 3.0 miles night before last. 1.8 last night. How I know is I have a pedometer. I gave blood today - white is down, red is a little up, platelets a little down. I feel OK. I'm trying not to drive a lot until the gas prices drop from this peak. I wonder what's going to happen if everyone can't afford to pay for their gas. OK, this is my science-fiction mind: Gas costs $120.00/gallon. Everyone goes nowhere, or they have to walk to get there. "Electronic Cottage" becomes reality; everyone works out of their home, and/or on a computer. Local farming becomes a growth industry. Monsanto f*cks itself. No "big" government. No air pollution. No hit-and-runs. No flat tires. No high-speed chases. No fema. No fire department. No police department. Everywhere will look like Davis, California (if you've lived there you know what I'm talking about).
There's gotta be a different way to get around; or decide there's no reason to go anywhere in the first place. Or, let the gas prices come back down and let us continue to live like we are today. If they take all our money, they will reach a point where they won't get any anymore either. They will cut off their own fix.

Back to Earth: Worked on Heidi's portrait, and I realize I do what I did the first time I actually went to a "painting class" (Laney). I'm like a blind camera. Point and shoot. I didn't think it was necessary to create a "composition" out of the "whole" thing. I'm not saying Heidi's painting is not composed; a head and torso, flat background, its pretty straight forward. But I'm hand-eye, not copy-paste. I tend to get in the way of myself. So I fixed some areas in the portrait that just bugged the hell out of me, and it was a radical "adjustment" of the mouth, the chin, and if Heidi's reading this she'll probably moan cause I'm taking so long. But its all for the better. Who knows, maybe in one of these life-times I'll actually be a full-blown portrait painter. What I "normaly" do is this cerebral, conceptual stuff, no horizon-line, moving in and out of itself. Doodles primarily. Mandalic. Biomorphic. If you don't know what I'm talking about, that's OK.
Also, I do the exact opposite of what a portrait is, which is to remove anything that resembles "reality" (what we know or recognize), and develope the non-objective, with line, color, some new space. Actually I called the stuff "Psyche Art" back in 1978. I taught a class in it at a community arts center. "Psyche" implying the mind, that imagery can come out of the subconcious and without "being" something from out there, the painting becomes a very personal experience for the painter. I could talk all night about it and I suppose it should be a book. What I call all that now is "Quantum Painting," because that's the way I picture it in my mind. I'm not a physicist but I read some about it. The imagery we experience, takes place in our minds, and that aware conciousness defines our reality. I'm gonna loose the rest of the audience with this one: Its the same as having a wave-form collapse. Until we look at it, it doesn't exist. Everything is potential for creating the reality "we" bring to it. The universe cannot be experienced without an observer. The observer is "me." See what happens when you have too much time on your hands. :P

Or, call them abstract. Whatever it is, I enjoy doing it, even with the duldrums. I get stuff wrong all the time but I'm not afraid to change it (if I can). I have yet to post more paintings (such that they are) on this World Vane site yet. I have a bunch of sketches here, but few paintings as of yet - except for "Games" I think. The link to "Paintings" is here.

Didn't walk tonight. Worked on the computer. Spent a lot of time doing audio. I haven't posted any audio I'm doing lately. I decided to stick something here I did a while back and posted elsewhere.

"Whales find the Nautilus." (check volumn).

Its also under "Audio" and can be played there. I always like to think the Nautilus, Captain Nemo's sub (20,000 Leagues Under the Sea) is laying down there somewhere lost...until some whales find it; and then decide to move on.

Walked 2.8 miles last night. The night before that was 2.0 miles, and the presidential debate was at six o'clock and I thought I'd be back by then. I was in the middle of the walk at six o'clock. I decided I need the exercise, get my system going - not listen to two meat-heads talk about sh*t that means NOTHING to nobody. Between that camera, and their cars in the parking lot - that's how long they'll stick to their words. I'm a different generation. I'm "Nam." We used to say: never trust anyone over thirty. Never trust anyone wearing black shoes because they were a bureaucrat. The whole ship (RangerCV61) watched President Nixon lie through his teeth to God and Country! (takes breath) It was safer for everyone that I go get some exercise instead. Didn't help anyway, because when I got back they were still at it. Get out and vote. Right or wrong, at least you earn the right to complain about it afterwards. You don't vote? - Keep your trap shut. Absolutely nobody in the audience asked: Was I ever gonna run for office? H*ll no I'm not, I answered. I'm too worried about the food I'm eating right now, and what's coming up tomorrow. Also, I think I'd be really lousy at it.

I did meet again with the VA in Martinez. My white blood cells are up (which is a plus - they were flat for months), the rest is holding steady and I feel like I'm writing about an airplane or something. Also talked about my "head" with "other" staff. I don't have PTSD - I have ANGST! Relax. Things for me become clear in chunks.

I worked on Heidi's portrait and it should look fine. But next time I may do one in "oil." Acrylic is water-based and when you mix very subtle colors (skin), and shadows - the paint "dries" if you don't use it fast enough. Its not enough to keep spraying it with a mister or something. Once its dry, it doesn't dissolve, its a plastic (for the tadpole way over there in the corner who doesn't know what "acrylic" is). Light around the chin, nose, and face is very subtle. Oil stays soft (relatively speaking), It can be thinned and thickened, forced to dry faster, and be pushed around till you get it right. Acrylic don't behave that way - it'll last forever (long time) - but it isn't as friendly as oil, to me anyway. Oil takes longer to dry - so it is longer to handle it. I'm taking so long with this painting (portrait) because I'm inventing as I go. Also, I never considered myself a portrait painter. That doesn't mean I won't try it once; given the time, energy, wavelength, mood. Acrylic is for energetic "fast" art. If I get more commissions (portraits of women), I will get enough practice in I'm sure. That's all for today's art lesson (rant).

I'm really annoyed the days are getting shorter. ;(

They never got back to me on what my "levels" are so I'm not sure to interpret that to mean: no news is good news, or that they forgot about me. So I need to go tomorrow (or not - they aren't communicating with me) and give blood again for them to analyze. I went to see Judge Dredd - very hard and gorey, but I thought it was good as a film anyway. The future cities alone I found interesting, but it is "ultra" violent and not for everyone. Sat outside tonight (harvest moon - n. The full moon that occurs nearest the autumnal equinox). Very warm night for a change.
I went to the ship and took part in a ghost hunt. Had a connection with someone (some-thing) in the "war-room" under the flight deck next to Ready Two. I know that doesn't mean anything to someone who doesn't know what I'm talking about but it kinda sounds cool. The connection didn't last very long. I may attend more in October because they are busy before Halloween. Since the VA isn't talking to me - I guess I can do what the f*ck I want - hang out with my peeps for a while. I can do these small gigs, I think - we'll see. I know I'm not ready for the three-day "marathon" 400 scout nights. I took audio recordings but found nothing, I added a photo one of our crew took to the website. I can't figure it out. If you go to the site: paranormaldepartment.com and go to the "latest posts" link just under the heading of the site and then click on the top link (sidewinder room), you'll see his pic. If you scroll down on the title page and go to the link for "apparitions" - you'll so it and processing with Photoshop. I went down there and took a picture in the same area for comparison, and put that there too. It looks like an ordinary boring room. It is the sidewinder missle room on the USS Hornet.

Also, I'm a mediocre "html" doer. I see stupid things I do in my code all the time and for example - the links colors are almost midnight blue and hard to see and I can't seem to change it to a brighter color. So the site is really low tech and I appologize. The videos load slowly. I noticed if you go to the Facebook Paranormal Department the videos in the "albums" areas seem to load no problem and play easily. I don't pretend to be a html guru by any means. I'm a hack at best and I hope people have patience.

On the right side of that picture is also a small orb moving, in front of the metal cabinets. The yellow light, the head and shoulders shadow, the hand holding his head, the orb - all took place in the fraction of a second it took to take the picture. Not sure how to debunk it. I try to "break it." If I can duplicate the image or the experience, then it is probably "not" paranormal. But if it is (paranormal) then there is another problem: no one will believe it and say it was "Photoshopped" or something. Its the big "trap" I see it. I realized one night: we could have a room full of people witness a full body apparition of a lady dressed in white; come through the wall; whistle Yankee Doodle Dandy; turn around and go back through the wall - and who the f*ck do we tell that to? Anyone who wasn't there will think all the "witnesses" were trying to perpetrate a hoax, start a buzz over something for fame or who knows what. All this paranormal stuff needs "EVIDENCE" that is rock solid enough to stand up to critical examination and I'm not sure if that is possible.

We do find evidence - but some of it we can't share. Sometimes its too unbelievable. Sometimes its in bad taste. Often it makes you look like a looney bin kook, and it is valid to ask yourself if you're willing to put up with the ridicule, and criticism. Haters love tearing into anyone who has something they don't believe. Me? I don't give a sh*t what people think (I think). I know what I see, hear, and feel - how can I let someone tell me what I do or don't believe? I get alienated and dwell in the fringe on a regular basis. I'm so f*cking tenderized by life in general; how can I let someone's disbelief mean anything to me? Their attitude is their problem - not mine - and they are always encouraged to move on. Hopefully in the future, I'll get lucky, and find something really major and get to share it. Its exciting, interesting, and fun to do - maybe that's why people do it. Its one reason I do it. The other reason is: What if something is discovered that cracks that "egg?" Is it possible to figure out what's going on? Probably not. There may be a reason we will never really know - as long as we are on "this" side looking in.

>>>>>>>> OK, its still 10/1/12 and I just gave blood and they got results back. The red blood still hovering around "not enough" (9.8) - should be between 14-18. The platelets on Friday were 34, last Monday they were 28, and today they are 29 - essentially "flat." The big eye-opener is white blood cells. I've been 0.4 for months (even after giving myself a series of shots (twice) to boost it). Last Friday white blood cells were at 0.6, but this morning they were 1.10. That's a significant jump. They are supposed to be 1.5 - 7.9. There is no transfusion gig for white blood cells, only shots of filgrastim. So as of 10/1/12 I'm holding my own. Its all unbelievable. <<<<<<<<

Yesterday and today I'm feeling light-headed, creepier than usual, thinned out. I give blood tomorrow (off schedule) to see where my levels are; but I called my doc and left a message that I will try to get in there early so the results may tell me if I have to get up to Martinez for another transfusion or something before the weekend. Maybe all this creepiness is a phase, and all part of the process. What's funny (not) is that all the serious stuff seems to be a guessing game at best.

In other news: Worked on Heidi's portrait, surfed the net, sat here pissed (more frustrated), still not writing - Anyone says writing is easy is an idiot.

A couple days ago I was in the backyard at night. The sky was crystal clear (wierd actually). Here in East Oakland there is a lot of light pollution, but there were tons of stars. I took astronomy in college and know where Andromeda (M31) galaxy is. I don't think I've ever seen it in the city with my binoculars. There was even the first quarter of a moon up there brightening the sky somewhat. No one ever sees the arms of M31 with binoculars but the core is an obvious fuzzy obloid. I found it no problem. For those that aren't convinced of my nerdiness: Cassiopeia is a constellation that is high in the sky now. It resembles a large "W" laying on its side. One of the arms of the "W" is laying down somewhat. That zigzag "W" is in line with the plane of the Milkyway galaxy (our home). Half of the "W" makes almost a perfect triangle. If you use it as an arrowhead and take the separation distance of the bright stars you see there, and count that distance about five times in the direction of where the arrow is pointing, you'll see a fuzzy haze. [ chart to Andromedia galaxy ] That is M31 (Andromeda) which lies within the Andromeda Constellation (go figure). I've been telling people for years (two people) that you are looking at 400 billion stars. I just found out recently (thank you google) that that fuzzy haze is the core of actually no less than one "trillion" stars. And its always right there, whether we think about it or not. Also, in about 3 billion years we will actually collide into each other and form a hugh elliptical galaxy. The light that hits your optic nerve and triggers your cerebral cortex, took 2.3 million years to come to a stop in your head. I don't know about you, but that kinda sh*t just blows my mind.

And people complain about nothing.

Well, my blood work came back and the gain I had last week is gone and I'm actually a little below where I was last year at this time. I guess that means no improvement. My nurse is going to run the numbers past my doc and see what she thinks. So I m still nowhere. I don't know if the physical labor I put in this week installing the doors had anything to do with it but they say it doesn't. Who knows. I feel okay, but obviously that may not mean anything. Unless they mixed up my records with someone else, but I kinda doubt that.

It's been a few days since my last entry. I've been walking, the more you do it the easier it gets, so it seems. I've been trying to get active. My numbers came up when I was walking for the first time in over a year since this started. I installed a backdoor; to replace the damaged one when some local thugs broke apart trying to get into here. We're wired now (Bay Alarm). I survived that (construction job) so maybe there's hope (to work like a dumb ox for next to nothing again - not). I ache like hell, my right knee got twisted somehow and now its on ice. And I'm doing this.
I was thinking a couple days ago: If I can walk two miles and then spend the rest of the evening arguing with the wife, then I must be getting better.

Anyway, I saw that pictures of Gale crater (Mars) from the MRO in orbit may have been photo-shopped to hide something, that's why they went there? See the problem with coverups? If they are playing stunts, how are they going to wash that out? I gave up on politics. I don't like Romney - I have to settle for Obama. I really don't know what to think. I know that the world is changing and it won't wait for us to get it together.

I won't see my doctor for another two weeks but if my levels are still rising after my next blood draw maybe I can work the next ghost hunt on the ship.
I don't know who reads this. There are people that are curious what the MDS is like. Some people who know me may want to know what I'm doing lately. I get to practice writing which I haven't really got into as much as I want. There may be a new person who found this and is just nosey.
In my other life I do ghost hunts, "paranormal investigations." I put up a website: Paranormaldepartment(one word).com I don't get into it (ghosts) "here" much (I guess I could) because people may think I'm looney-bins, but I guess I'm okay with that and really don't care very much what people think. I know what I know, I can't convince anyone of anything unless they witness it themselves. But I have some theories, and if I share them here and you don't like ghosts you can think whatever you want and move on. My approach: I don't like to make shit up. Its just too damn memory intensive to remember some story I made up to get a rise out of something. I play it as straight as I can. What my experience was, unvarnished, shared from what I believe is the truth as best as I can find it. Telling what I believe to be the truth is so much easier. Now, I can be fooled, I have fool myself; and as soon as I find it out I go "damn!" and then move on. And hope that I haven't made too big of a "fool" out of myself in the process. For example: I believe there are different kinds of orbs out there. There is the water vapor or dust reflected in the flash of a camera - bt then I have seen pictures of an orb in broad daylight without a flash at all. There are these gawdy concentric circled things that stick out like a sore thumb in a place where this sort of thing happens but no where else. There are orbs that if you play with the brightness and contrast, all sorts of detail can be found. I saw an image of someone looking down their nose at me in disapproval but the next day the face was gone and it was just a fuzzy thing the next day. I've tried to post some evidence and it can't be done, either the file refuses to exist anymore, or it won't play if it does.

I think there are overlapping existences that we all share but are not aware of on a normal day. Whether one existence has the upper hand and is more aware of one than another, there is no way to know. But I know there is something going on. It is as close as our elbow and it can respond instantaneously. It can hear us (not always), and we can here it (not always). Why there is a filter between these "realms" - who's to say. Maybe if all portals were open we would be either dead or insane. I believe that half of what we do is "channeled," often unknowingly. I think artists trust this more than others. Inspiration may not come from within but from an energy needing to emerge somehow. I think we are not alone. We are all here. Always have been. For those that believe God is responsible for all this, I don't have a problem with that. I have a problem with things that happen that seem cruel and disgusting. I believe in hydrogen. That we are all (real and unreal) made of the same stuff. How could we not be? From the very beginning of anything, we are a result of that; everything. We may be everywhere, and ageless. We just happen to be vibrating at this particular wavelength at the present moment.

I say "wavelength" because when we hear voices out of "nothing" in recordings (EVPs electronic voice phenomenon) - it sound like it came over a dime store radio transmitter, static and all, what's that about? The website hasn't had a new post since 22 July 2011. I was to the ship a few weeks ago and I caught an EVP of someone running on the catwalk, and an orb in a photo. I haven't reviewed all the recordings yet so there may be something in there that I will still find. Ghost hunting requires great patience and the willingness to sit the whole night in the dark and come up empty-handed. I'll post them when I get to it and I guess I can post them here too and you can see what I'm talking about. Come back when you can, I have no idea what I'll post here so stay tuned. Enough with ghosts. I wonder if they'll let me help put up the haunted house for the annual Hornet Halloween Bash? Maybe I can handle that. My white blood counts are flat so I'm not sure I can wade into 400 screaming cub scouts just yet.

Whats new. Not much. The past two days I walked two miles each day. Tomorrow I give blood again. And yes you can wear out the veins in your arms. Apparantly they get callouses so they have to go around the callouses. They're used to me at the VA - its become sort of a running gag: Weekly "stick" - if you will.

I managed to get to the ship (USS Hornet) and actually spent a couple nights doing paranormal investigations. I was sort of just hanging out with the gang. It was great to be with my peeps for a while. I took a lot of digital recordings and there was not much going on. I figured out I can review recordings while I'm painting (multi-task).

We (they) may have worn out the "hot" spots. I think we should try to do a sweep and find out where they are hiding. I mean, how would you feel if a bunch of strangers kept poking electrical equipment in your face and telling you to "come over to this light and make it light up?" I mean jeez. Anyway, I think I did catch the infamous "running on the catwalk" in the foc'sle (forecastle). I thought I could post it here but file names are different and when I burned it to a CD it changed so I can't just copy it and paste it here. Not right now anyway. I have to find they name (number) of the file from the raw recording in the digital recorder, blah, blah. It was dark and we heard somone running on a metal grate, and unless you were in the Navy and drilled constantly, you wouldn't do what we heard.

But that's paranormal and means nothing, because no one believes anything unless they witness it in person. So if I put it here you could say "Fake!" anyway. I'm am a hell of a skeptic. I've never let magical thinking or BS get in the way of the truth. Telling lies about all this is too much effort. The truth is easy. I also have a theory but I know it is radical: What if, when you die - and you believe in heaven - but there is none. You hang around (ghost) confused because now you in a plane of existence that is not what you thought it would be. With no physicality time is meaningless. You could hang out forever wondering what to do next - until the day you realize you can move on and go to the next level (or whatever). Heresy! The spirits that haunt the Hornet may slowly be moving on, leaving (going to heaven), or they are hiding out somewhere seeking peace. I know I sound like a lunatic, but that is what I conclude from the evidence, such that it is. I enjoy trying to figure out the universe. The difference between myself and a dyed-in-the-wool skeptic is if I see evidence, I go with the evidence, and then I'm not a skeptic anymore. Anyone who walks up to me and says they've seen a ghost, I say "prove it." If they can't prove it - its worthless. If they experience something without witnesses and/or evidence, its between them and the experience and they will take it to their graves.

The doctor told me to do what I want and if I get tired don't do it, so I can probably take small groups around and sit (in the dark) - that may be doable and maybe I can actually get paid something for a change. In case you haven't figured it out - I am making NO money outside of my VA disability and retirement. And I need three (3) computers - one for music, and video editing, (which would also imply I need a video camera - duh), a laptop so I can be mobile and write, and a desktop for everything else (3D modeling, etc.). I'm not going to make enough money from ghost hunting, that would be may be gas money only. I have so much to do I can't believe it.

I know I have to get off Facebook though. I get sucked into these stupid rants with blockheads and it is a big waste of time.

******** I went and gave blood for my CBC (complete blood count). Apparently my hemoglobin came up a whole 1.0! Which has been hovering around a .10 here or there for the past couple months. I am at 10.4 and I should be between 14 - 18. My platelets came up 10 points from 37 - 47 it has a ways to go to 130 - 400, but its a jump from limbo it was in. My white blood cells are around the same with no big gain but at least I'm not going South like I was. I am close to where I was in July which was around the highest I've been in a long time (I can't believe I am fighting this going on its second year). When I woke up this morning I could feel something was different. So maybe I'm coming back after all, I hope. One thing I've learned about this is one day I may feel fine and the next day I feel like I'm falling apart. ********

Okay, for those out there keeping score: I went to the oncologist this morning and the results are I am in this very slow but gradual decline in blood count, which includes white, red blood cells and platelets. We talked about starting another round of chemo (joy, joy). We talked about waiting three weeks and come back and see what happened since. Keep having blood drawn every Monday to check blood count. Also, maybe get into a clinical trial somewhere if things continue South. Maybe in November do another bone marrow biopsy and see if I start developing blasts, which indicate Leukemia - and then things will speed up. Either I get fixed from a bone marrow transplant or I finally get off this rock. There is every chance that where I am now, in this limbo between chronic joint pain and no energy, may be the "best" I can expect to be - the rest being worse. I am really tired of life. I live in a meat grinder and its always been uphill. Her advice is "Do what I want to do. If I get tired at it don't do that anymore." (while I can, goes unspoken?) I don't have a "bucket list" (can't afford one). So I guess - I remain - a struggling artist. (That never got off the ground appropriately either). Cherish your health. Don't take it for granted. No one is immune.

Everything, it seems, is a big question mark with MDS. A big guessing game after nothing works. So if I am meant to be - that will happen. If not - that will happen too (time works that way). If you didn't catch it earlier in this thread; they say I got it from irradiating my thyroid. Should people not have their thyroid treated with radiation? I guess that depends on whether your luck is activated toward the positive end of the spectrum. I walked two miles today, don't ache in the hips like I did earlier. There is a pain in one spot in my chest and they did a sonogram but nothing's there. Apparently if you have low red blood cells you manifest that as painful breathing? How nice. Anyway, someone out there may find this stuff interesting. Someone out there may have MDS and wonders what that means. Also, I haven't met him, but the nurse says there is one other guy with exactly the same thing I have - limbo and all. I guess I'm not alone.

I was able to make a few typos go away and update the last post, so everything seems to be behaving normally. I managed to get some time into the painting. I have to loosen up. I'm over-intellectualizing, or procastinating - which is the only result of where I am right now. These doldrums are transitory (I hope). Beyond that I cleaned the house a little. I spend way too much time gazing at the insanity that is the internet (us). By the way, we (human beings) are in serious trouble - just sayin'. I (this) even contributes to it. The world is insane. I could go on and on, and on, about "What the f*ck is wrong with everybody?" But it doesn't matter.

There's nowhere to start with the epoch ranting, but I figure I can use it as part of "Pilgrim" - (novel). The next logical step for the story I wrote as a screenplay, is a novelization. I wrote the screenplay and it exists in that "form." but people almost have to be trained to read that format. A screenplay, ideally is meant to be read in one sitting. The reader is being asked to trust that I (unpublished) won't f^ck them up three-fourths of the way through by some ridiculous flaw in the experience, where they will kill me for having wasted their time. I get it. It'd be my first thought.

"Pilgrim" if nothing else, is at least, a story. It can exist beyond its current form as a screenplay. So there is this great tug in me to "write" out the story as a novel. Something you can walk away from and pick up later. A novel is familiar with most readers. Being science-fiction...there's no fix for that. If its not your cup of tea. Fine. I hate musicals (horrors). If you think science-fiction is juvenile and superficial, move on, please. Trust me, I won't take offense.

Also, if I write out the story as a novel, the two formats actually sell each other (in theory). You can claim that the book has a screenplay already written for it, or the screenplay already has its novelization. They both qualify each other. The "rub" is that "I" HAVE TO "WRITE" THE %#@$& DAMN THING! Relax... If I do write it, only good can come from it. It certainly would give me practice writing as a warm up for the main event: "The Milkyway - Book One, Book Two, and Book Three." I've got this whole Trilogy in my head, for which "Pilgrim" is the "set-up" for that whole thing. It's a prequel where it belongs; at the beginning, before everything else. So, long story short - the sooner I make friends with a keyboard and pushing my fingers around it, the sooner I can get on with it.

Updates: Against my better judgement, I decided to attack the front door. I installed it and the securty screen door. I wasn't sure if I could pull it off. I went slow, tried to pace myself. I did a little bit at a time over about three days and got the thing in there. Its ridiculous. Its almost two years we had no front door on this house. Had to go through the garage door all the time. (No front door because the neighborhood thugs thought there was something in here worth taking.)

There still is nothing worth taking, but at least the door works. I feel tired, but getting something major done feels good. We'll see what kind of damage I've done to myself tomorrow when I have my CBC (complete blood count) drawn. I almost instantly had a blister in my right hand palm when I used the screwdriver for the first time in a long while. I hate being sick.

This was a text message to Johnnie B. (a long-time friend and patron of the arts)- I'm pasting it here so I can share the update with others. He's asking me if I'm back to work yet?

===> Hi John, No not yet. I have been keeping a more or less update on my blog http://www.worldvane.com/today.htm . I am improving very slowly, but not getting worse. I am off both anti-biotics and anti-viral for a couple weeks now. I had four shots last week to help boost white blood cells. I seem to have fought off these bizarre physical drug reactions lately. I'm still here. My disability from EDD runs out this month. I may qualify for SS disability when I drop the EDD.

Short answer "no" - I'm not working yet. Still working on my friend's portrait. Musing over my next story. I don't know if you knew I was able to finish a screenplay that I've had in my head for thirty years. Entered it in a competition, but they didn't bite. (It was actually thrown together at the end just in time - of course it didn't win.) I've been polishing it and its not half bad where it is now. Maybe I should try to find a lawyer and sell the thing - that is the point after all.

I want to get well enough to do the "live-aboard" program with the scouts again on the ship. Its not a lot of money but I wouldn't be on the ragged-edge like I am now. Also I know the job is there if I want it. I'm living in the second (remodel) house and we actually bought new doors to be installed upstairs (street) and downstairs to backyard. We may have to have someone install them because I would do it normally. I have been poking at it a piece at a time. I want to spray paint the downstairs door before it goes in. I have time now so I can go slow. Playing with my music making software. Warming up to first draft my other story "Interior Earth." Gosh, it sounds like I'm busy. Busy in my head anyway.

- end of text message.

The following is from Facebook - (if you don't have Facebook). This is where I get to rant about local government (city hall) and a friend of mine in Wisconsin.

There was a point about 'posting' and 'deleting' and something else - I responded:

...It is entertaining. I've written dissertations and then deleted it thinking 'so what' - warms me up for writing something else. I'm raw on this subject for a friend of mine in Wisconsin who has been targeted by the City of (un-named) police department. - It has been an ongoing litany of throwing "trumped charges," "false accusations," I know the guy (un-named) since high school! We were the guys pushing projectors in the Audio Visual Aids Department. Its a years long issue, we talked once or twice a year. But each time it was about fearing his property was going to be cheated away from him. There is ZERO assistance to hear his case. He says he has records and witnesses over years to back up all his claims. The "bullies" have used him as a play thing. They even ran into him on a bike with their patrol car. He's knocked to the street, cut, and bruised. They don't take him to the station house. They don't take him to an emergency room. They take him to a state (city? county? who the f*ck cares) run psychologist. Years ago that was how they settled their argument with him. they did this and the drugs they put him on, he claims have f*cked up his head. He can't think clearly and needs help. He's "heating and air conditioning" and an "audio sound engineer." He's having a hard time "functioning" when he's fighting city hall all the time. (I'm a Vietnam Vet! Do not get me started on authority figures.) Wisconsin? Seems all the politicians and rule-makers are --- I can't get into it. We're on the f*cking brink. But there has to be a voice. (not directed at you N)

And another post -

Oh, now he got a bill in the mail for the psychiatric services. $14,000. He doesn't have a health plan (wink - wink)- They want his property and him out. They shuffle districts (and people) around like playing gin rummy - watch your backs - Occupy? Anarchy? One religion or another? The universe is sitting there laughing its ass off. I don't know if getting in the way is an answer but something has to be done.

- end rant (why write things twice)

8 minutes ago · Edited · Like

I missed a few days here. What's new? Last Wednesday I saw the oncologist. She said my numbers had dropped some but it is still worth watching. I could be in an ebb and flow dance between better and not better I guess. She decided that one thing we could try is to have me take four(4) shots of filgrastim - 1.6ML. It is supposed to help boost white blood cell production. I've been through my share of chemo for now and whether I go back to it remains to be seen, but we're gonna see if this will help jump-start things. They gave me the first shot, I had to give myself the remaining three (or make a 50 mile round trip for them to do it). What I am shocked by is she told me that "one" shot of this stuff is $4,000! I was floored. I probably have a hundred-thousand-plus invested in me already. I hope I'm worth it.

What it also tells me is this is serious. I have to accept the idea that I would be dead today, if they did not intervene and diagnose me in time. Also, if I wasn't a veteran, I would have died long ago. Whether I'm healing or not, I'm sure being put through the mill, I know that much.

The latest trick is my ankles getting red blotches that hurt like shin splints. Last night, I got up from sleeping and could barely walk. I almost could see me puttering around in one of those battery powered wheel chairs (someone please shoot me at that point). I had uncontrolable chills. That is usually an indication that I was developing a fever. They said that a fever is one thing I need to avoid at all costs, and if I develop one, it is an emergency-room situation. So, here I am in the middle of the night (0230); I can't walk, I have a rising temperature, and don't know if I'm going to have to drive myself all the way over to the Fort Miley VA hospital in San Francisco, for them to give me a shot or oxygen, or some other damn thing.

It is now 2045 and I am able to walk around much better. There is pain, but nothing like last night. I found some anti-inflamatory creme, and rubbed that in - I had Benadryl but I didn't want to go ape-shit. (Have I dated myself by referring to someone going ape shit?). I had a couple ice-packs in the freezer. Wrapped one around each ankle, and managed to get to sleep; not knowing if, when I wake up, I'll be able to walk or not - or need to call an ambulance. For some reason my temperature peaked at around 100.1. Why this is significant to me, (although 100 isn't something to worry too much about) is that through the whole time I've been doing this, my temperature never went over 98. I've been around 97. once I was 95. It varies all the time. I've been on the cool side. I checked it every hour or so this morning and it did come down eventually, and has been stable at 98.1, thereabouts. I discovered that if I rubbed the redness and my ankles with this anti-inflamatory ointment (Traumeel), I could actually dissipate some of the redness. I've been walking around and actually made it out to Peet's coffee on Fruitvale, and ran into an old friend, and had a very philosophical back and forth. For those of you who know who I'm talking about it was Pat's Steve.

My science-fiction mind wants to believe this: I've had low blood counts for months. The filgrastim did boost white blood cells. The white blood cells help boost platelets. The white blood cells help red blood cells, and fight infection. The red blood cells are starting (the plan) to "pop up." The red blood cells migrate into areas that haven't been visited for a while. The redenning and pain is the house getting crowded again. Bottle-necks of normalcy trying to get back on-line. Good a theory as any I guess. Optimistic, right? The more I do this though, the more I feel like a biological machine. Made out of all these highly unique parts. Is that sci-fi? Who cares.

WRITING AND PAINTING

As far as writing and painting lately - I'm having a hard time getting back into it. Every night recently, I tell myself, I'm gonna take some time, (an hour* at least) to work on Heidi's painting. This whole "MDS trip" I'm on, (Boy, doesn't that sound like straight out of the 60's?) - It gets in the way. My doctor did tell me, there's nothing I could have done to get it. Lung cancer is probably from smoking. This is not genetic. Anyone can have it. People may have it un-diagnosed. The doc said I shouldn't feel like I'd brought anything on myself by something I did. Lucky me. If you're new to this space (blog), this is in the present moment. I assume you've read the earlier stuff, and know where you are.

For those who want to learn about MDS - Google: MDS

- And the whole time, I'm sitting in the back thinking to myself: "OK."