(On a positive note, this year's "Weasel Stomping Day" was the best since 1942!)
On the eve of said observance, I see in another quarter of the cyber realm a reemergence and embellishment of something that simply floored me. Even my diverticulitis sat up, was impressed by the impact this had on me, reverted to being an "osis" and joined in the fun.
I have eaten 4 times since then. I had to avoid being at Vincenzo's Pizzeria (973-691-8282 BEST food in Budd Lake!) because Carlos the Owner was like an Italian Mom and kept putting food in front of me.
Worst Birthday EVER! Kinda got me reflecting on the last number of months and all...
2 weeks in hospital, 103 fever, I.V. anti-biotics, external drain, pain like I never knew existed.....not one visitor except on the first day when my son came to get Bob The Van Eating Dog and blame me for being sick.
My other son has yet to invite me to see his house after 3 years of being on his own.
Neither have much time nor interest in me at all.
Most of my "stuff" is at risk of being lost forever.
I have less room than an 8 year old would have to sleep in, because I can't get any help organising the interior.
Yadda, Yadda, Yadda...
I have come to learn that loyalty is over rated and given too freely by me. The day was simply miserable.
Westward "No", Not Westward "Ho"
Went to see my G.P. to get the results from the brain scan and blood work, and the results were mediocre at best, but inconclusive. So now I have to see a Neurologist. I also have a Basil Cell Carcinoma on my forehead making a return engagement that needs be looked at. Have appointments and tests through October 8th.
ESITED TO ADD: Had to postpone tomorrow's Basil Cell appointment. No cash, no gas, Next week, I reckon,
Obviously, I didn't leave west on Sunday, July 25th. Instead I get Szomor Vasrnap!
I decided to get a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) adornment. And it's not as bleak as you may be thinking. I am not Suicidal, Homicidal, nor Americanidal. I am simply looking at this mostly logically, even if partially through woes colored glasses.
I have no connections of any depth with anyone, relatives or otherwise. I pretty much just simply exist. And I don't see things getting much better.
I am a mostly spent soul...tired and worn. For 20 some odd years it's been one thing after another. No family to speak of that stays in touch nor most friends, for that matter. I tried to figure out what I had done that I earned me this "price"....this "karma" to deal with. Not saying there weren't highlights, but overall, one miserable thing after another.
Top that off with the stuff I did to myself...choices...directions..etc., and it's a bit of a load.
Then the fall of 2007 something changed in a big way. Things I had nurtured, learned, encouraged, experienced, sacrificed for seemed to be coming together in a BIG way. And as it led into the new year and beyond, I thought maybe the cloud has lifted and I can count on things being at least o.k.
02/16/08 The Acceleration Of The Downward Spiral!
It all came crashing down that day. What gave me my very breath was yanked away and an hour later, my bar sink in the basement flooded out sewage. A metaphor for my existence.
A new business I was developing with my lawyer on started to go south and the basement flooded once again.
Add an invasion in to my laptop, some rather soul scorching revelations, and the months of February and March 2008 became, and remain, the worst two months of my life. Thus, my first attempt at a successful heart attack. It was at that point I decided to give up the fight for the house.
I also gave up on my fortunes changing. Sure I danced with the idea of heading west and finding my life's completion, but that fairy tale left with the road blocks thrown at me, keeping me here in the Garden State.
On the physical side, there is a history of strokes on both sides of my family. My Dad had one in his 50's that left him unable to speak for the most part. My maternal grandmother had one in her 40's and my mom one in her 60's or 70's.
The doctor thinks I have had a couple of small strokes. She wants me on meds for the rest of my life. She wants me to quit smoking. (I actually toyed with that one, but changed my mind) My vision changes moment by moment. Sometimes I have trouble understanding what people say to me. My memory which had been all but photographic slips away from me. Living in the Conversion Van Of Wonders and losing the house is the least of it. Really, that is hardly a factor. It's the other stuff that impacts.
13 years spent building a structure, only to be evicted and the architecture deeded elswhere.
I won't take my own life, but I did figure out a pretty spectacular way to do so if inclined. Murder is a cardinal sin...even if the life one takes is one's own. I want to go to Heaven. I want the condo in the clouds with a view and cable. Thus, I won't take my life. However, I won't let anyone save it.
I had my chances with the unsuccessful and successful heart attacks as well as the diverticulitis. Thing is, death scared me like you wouldn't believe. Thus, I sought treatment. I had delusions of moving on with my life, that I finally accept is simply not going to happen. I don't fear it anymore.
Turns out I have to create a Living Will and get it registered. Nice thing is I can change my mind later, if things become worthwhile. Hope springs eternal, no?
In the interest of staying "Green", I thought I'd look for a used DNR bracelet. I mean, how much wear and tear could one of those really have? If it's message is heeded at an opportune time, it's a "use once" thing. Kinda like condoms and diapers!
SIDETRACK: I saw the VERY best marketing for condoms in a store once. There was a huge display of different types and makes right next a LONG aisle of diapers and baby products. Makes one think and consider, no?
Really...how many people would consider a DNR item a family heirloom? I can hear the conversation now......
Drew Peterson: Hey sweetie, I got something for you...
Wife #5: For me? Oh really? Let me see, let me see....
DR: It was my grandfather's. He wore it everyday. Kathleen wore it for a little while, but I want you to have it. Here...
W5: D...N..R.....DNR...What does DNR mean?
DR: It's Aramaic for "I Love You" Granddad was into dead thing.....er...languages. But we'll pretend the "D" stands for Drew!
W5: Oh sweetie....I love you, too! But I must head out. Going to my mom's today, you know.
DP: Yes, I remembered. By the way, I adjusted the brakes and the transmission. No sense paying someone else to do it, when I know best how to keep my pumpkin safe on the road!
W5: You sweet thing, I love you!
DP: DNR sweetie, DNR!
See...one use. Of course if some company makes these like underoos or band aids with your fav cartoon character on it, maybe ariel or Spiderman, I'd get one of those instead.
August 4th, 2010: One Year Anniversary Life In A Van
Will be a year tomorrow, as of this writing. And again, I see a shift in the aforementioned corner of the net. Stuck here again until October, and again plan to be south for the winter. We'll see. Seems the powers that be mean to keep me here no matter what.
With my luck, the DNR will come into play when someone leaning or kneeling over me while I'm out of it, will only speak Aramaic!
Until next time... when I point out some positives around me.