Even More Nothing

There was a time, oh wait, that was yesterday, but that's another story that could possible be telling and we've left that one unfinished for a long, long, time. I was lost in emories for a while, but never so much as I used to be, for the memory of memories are not what they used to be.

Whatever is real, th best we can hope for is consistency over time and if we can get that, we might finally accept that this life is temporary and stop being afraid to live in the moments, whenever the moment may be. Everything can be alright if we just empower love more than we empower fear. The last line is the most important truth you ever need in this life.

So, continuing the passage of time through space, at least through cyberspace, as we were before The X-Files distracted us, the afterblog is an extension of the blogging into the realm of the space between sleep and awake, you know, where you still remember dreaming. Or something like that. Through the years, the missing pieces of life, the desires unfulfilled, all poured into the babbling. It happens less these days, but it can't be gone, because if it was gone, I wouldn't be here any more (why else would I stay?). Love is the answer, and I know that, for sure. Love is everything. Love is... After all the lonely days (and nights) and endless distractions (did I mention distractions?), the hunger to share love, to actualize love, remains.

Oh, the drama, lol.

So what I do when the madness of the unrequited loves of the dreams of the heart and what it wants, I eat (which I must slow down) and I babble (used to be a lot more babbling going on, but hopes wanes, apathy grows, and creativity suffers... still, babbling is a lot healthier than eating too much every day and eating is my primary sensual pleasure and emotional high... and has been for far too long to be healthy, but we'll harang my bad habits another time and indulge one of my good habits {the babbling| now, m'ok?) and sometimes, I create a new blo (boink!) and all is right with the universe for a moment or few. Narf! is a wonderful release.

Yeah, so new paths in the written gardens are opened a few times a year when the weather is just right in my brain cells. That is one of the healthiest ways I cope with the pains and numb that comes from all the traumas and blah blah blah, just look at the recent past in retrograde for just a dog gone minute or few hours (thank you if you care that much). There are so many links linking so many entries and blogs and internet places and if you are into music you might enjoy all the references (and those reach well beyond music into popular and obscure culture and trivia) but to put it bluntly, shit's getting serious in this solitary personal like due to neglect of this body leading to serious health issues, so wake up little Susie, please?

Sometimes I just figure I might as well just give up the ghost on the hope that I will find true love in this life, but then I find myself awake as a new day begins and I open my eyes and realize I can keep very busy having fun with friends anf without true love (never give up, never surrender!) and I do not have to give up, even when it seems very dark inside and outside.

There are paths without and without to peace and happiness and better days. I just need to keep swimming, keep hoping, keep searching, and remain open to the possibilities. Even medically, there is still hope. So I play silly omputer games while the TV stays on in the background and if I am lucky and wise and care enough, I won't go stark raving mad (whatever that is) and the nothingness that eventually consumes everything may give me just enough of a chance to dance at my wedding (figuratively) and fll in love again (oh gee, just look at the time {squirrel?} and remembering I am not as alone as I sometimes feel, I cal relate and continue pouring myself into the opinions and complaints as I am reborn each time I open my eyes if I only remember... even remembering nothing can be profound.

Narf :)






















Hope and procrastination. I have not picked up the new BP meds but they are ready according to a text I received from the pharmacy. I have not found that trigger point of change just yet as I indulge my taste buds on the decadence I have in the freezer and fridge and room. I must challenge myself to find ways to package healthier food in this cesspool of germs and fungus and whatever. I must also de-clutter and stop the slide into depressive apathy.

It usually happens, hopefully it will continues to happen (the stop, the point of change, the turn-around). I've just never been so buried in loneliness and helplessness as I am these days. I even articulate it when challenges. I've become fully human in almost all it's worst conditions.

Still, I write. And eat (no loss of appetite is a good sign, the books say). And live and long for love. Even if hope, the liquid of survival and happiness, is a dry river bed in the middle of a dessert.

Serious disappointment this weekend definitely does not help.

Life goes on... and so shall I.

I invited you to the blog family blog again. That's a clear sign of hope. I invited Mikey too. Pernickety wake the blog up and inspired some deep casual introspection as I commented (which turned into a blog entry in the details daily). As long as the writing continues, the river is not beyond coming back to life :)

Hope is the smile :)

Hope you are ok this weekend.

Revealing Nothing

So many years (how many years?... twenty online, twenty five more off line {remember paper and pen?), ten more years before that {starting with crayons}... you had to ask?) of writing, pouring myself into words with purpose within myself and beyond myself. It's all about love. Empowering it. I knew how once and I gave up the power because I was screwed up in the head. Messed up from birth, letting experiences of abandonment, insensitivity, and cruelty throughout childhood create a martyr mindset and that turned into a self-fulfilling prophesy. Self-sabotage destroyed every chance at personal love and something, shyness, insecurity, fear, undermined any chance of actualizing the love I sense inside and did actually actualize a time or few. Fool that I was, I let those moments and opportunities slip by.

So I come here now to record the dirt, drama, and details, the excess baggage and frivolous matters and irreverent perspectives and all inspired by the mundane experiences of this life. Mostly however, I distract myself from the failures and the stupidity and fears that lead to the failures. I did make a different in this world in some lives. For a few, a big difference. For many, a little, but important difference. As I walk slowly toward the end stages of this life, I reach much ore for distraction than for the quest for love that used to be the obsession motivating everything. Like Mulder's quest for truth, like Quixote's quest for something even nobler, my quest, however undermined by m own traumas (childhood PTSD is a bitch), was the purest of all. The infant's instinct for love as survival. So sad so many leave that far behind.

Suddenly, just as it all makes so much sense it clears the mind and clarifies a life, this rises from the depths of memories so rooted in the original dream (or my personal original sin, which has nothing to do with the religious crap spewed by power mad zealots jealous of (or just plain subservient to) kings and god-heads throughout the ages), and leads to this once lost original (second) web page from twenty years ago (and all that it leads to if you take the time to follow the paths) that could be even more revealing than anything you might read here because in spite of the heightened trauma of the time, the hope still shined brightly (unlike today) and the babbler beamed (with a little help from his friends) and the energy of the eternal infinity.

Just look at all the empty pages waiting for something, a resurrection of self, perhaps, or the one, if you recall that dream (and the distractions have as many empty pages as the potential actualization (which some might call magic and others call god and still others call evil because they fear it), but the blanks shot from mirrors and apathetic procrastination and this whole paragraph is a while goose chase to a me yet to be revealed which may seem pretty shitty, but it could be more revealing than the slices of life each entry pushes out.

Se for yourself (quite randomly) as I spent an afternoon with another old friend in memories (what used to lead to catharsis and clarity) in the written gardens from the beginning.

We can look at recent dailies for some sort of idea of what's going on, in case it matters to you. If you want a different approach, we can try reaching back to another era (we won't mention they were all written in the past month, m'ok?... cuz that might be too revealing, ya know?) when I was depending on friends for survival and remembering just how strange people can be. I don't think I've ever met anyone who does not lie to themselves, which makes it foolish (and even impossible) to trust anyone (or could it be the influence of watching 9 years of The X-Files or the madness of social suicide everyone seems to so actively participate in with little or no acknowledgement?). Whatever the answers, there was a major change at the time (one of several major life changes in the past few years and decades) and after all the blogging is done, the truth is nobody really cares (they simply don't know how) beyond their limited scope of perspective and knowledge so we all make mistakes as we make hard choices so foolishly to find any sort of new hope within the sheltered bubble of our existence.

This could continue through the past as we remember all the highs and lows from top to bottom, from better to worst, and still we can find joy even in the abuse if we learned from it, if we take the time to pause the distractions long enough to understand the secrets that the truth can reveal it we only greet it with the open mind we can achieve by simply being in touch with ourselves without lies or deception or fears (but who can do that, after all as nothing rises suddenly from the mundane simplicity of the daily life. What?

Did someone mention dirt, drama, and details?

There was a time when the focus could go on for days and five hundred pages could appear in less than twenty four hours (a few may recall receiving such letters, hand written, and we loved every minute of it... or so we thought). For the moment, I pause here because the TV distracts enough (it's season 9, after all, far from the est, but they are trying to wrap is up after all) and there is some hunger and there is discomfort from sitting too long in 84 degrees.

Life gets in the way a lot these days.

Narf :)

Stories

It's life, the show, and we could saw I've been skipping along, whatever that means, or we could say anything and wander through a slice of daily life in 2014, but the mystery is in the random links that lead us who knows where, if we dare...


Time, time, time... it's telling us story and maybe the answer is koala sex, but let us not be fooled by distraction, amusement, or shock, old friend bookends... the internet bleeds.

Meanwhile, back in 2014, life goes on, even without Robin Williams.

Is the past lost? I asked this question and today, the answer is yes. No longer can I engage in foolish games (or this level of a>spending, for that matter (even moreso four years later). Wandering through the past rather randomly, I wonder what it means to you, or if anyone relly gets it. Just one year of the many that has been this life, in entries and comments and whatever we may find (or wish for).

Today, or at least recently, I am more offensive than I've been in years (and my heart still bleeds too.

There may be no exit, so we might as well repeat ourselves when the message holds the key to everything.

Laughing at myself, at the musing, like last time.

Or something like that.

Narf :)

Foretelling For Telling.

Maybe.

If you do not see an entry for a while, check back on 10/31/2020 and you will understand why. Trusting humans have shorten this life span. Trusting doctors may kill me.

I've been thinking about death more than I usually do lately. Probably because I have not been taking the right dose of BP meds since early March. I talked the GI specialist into giving me a 30 day prescription but when I got the meds, he gave me a lower dose than the dose that the body has become addicted to. Twice before that was tried and twice before it didn't work. It didn't work this time either. At a doctor's office. I was hurried out with the wrong meds.

That's what heart.org tells me when I enter the blood pressure reading that the doctor's assistant took twice yesterday. Yes, twice.

I ran out of meds in Aprile and my specialists finally said no, that I needed to get my BP meds from a primary. So I made an appointment with a primary. The earliest I could get one that had a good rep and did not seem like a pill mill was May. In March I talked one of the specialists into giving me a thirty day supply. He gave e a lower dose. I guess he thought that was less risk to him because the higher dose was the max dose, but that is what this body is used to and what this body needs to keep it stable.

I took the lower dose of meds until they ran out in April and went about four weeks without meds. The blood pressure fluctuated like crazy. If we trust doctors and their assistant to take accurate readings. A big IF. Let's see what the internet (and some educated people) have to say about that. Here is what the Cleveland Clinic Journal of Medicine. 2010 October;77(10):683-688 has to say. Not lofty enough? Well, the internet, like life (and medicine) may just be a shot in the dark. So let's look at what a site called medscape has to say. Wait, there's plenty more to choose from.

How about JAMA, one of the most respected journals of what we call modern medicine. Maybe another respected journal dedicated specifically to high blood pressure as quoted by the National Library of Medicine National Institute of Health will discover the truth. Does Harvard University know what they are talking about? Well, if they do, let's see how Lake Mary Primary Care Center measures up:

Here's what Harvard says we can do to ensure a correct reading:

• Don't drink a caffeinated beverage or smoke during the 30 minutes before the test. • Sit quietly for five minutes before the test begins. • During the measurement, sit in a chair with your feet on the floor and your arm supported so your elbow is at about heart level. • The inflatable part of the cuff should completely cover at least 80% of your upper arm, and the cuff should be placed on bare skin, not over a shirt. • Don't talk during the measurement. • Have your blood pressure measured twice, with a brief break in between. If the readings are different by 5 points or more, have it done a third time. There are times to break these rules. If you sometimes feel lightheaded when getting out of bed in the morning or when you stand after sitting, you should have your blood pressure checked while seated and then while standing to see if it falls from one position to the next. Because blood pressure varies throughout the day, your doctor will rarely diagnose hypertension on the basis of a single reading. Instead, he or she will want to confirm the measurements on at least two occasions, usually within a few weeks of one another. The exception to this rule is if you have a blood pressure reading of 180/110 mm Hg or higher. A result this high usually calls for prompt treatment. It's also a good idea to have your blood pressure measured in both arms at least once, since the reading in one arm (usually the right) may be higher than that in the left. A 2014 study in The American Journal of Medicine of nearly 3,400 people found average arm- to-arm differences in systolic blood pressure of about 5 points. The higher number should be used to make treatment decisions. In general, blood pressures between 160/100 mm Hg and 179/109 mm Hg should be rechecked within two weeks, while measurements between 140/90 and 159/99 should be repeated within four weeks. People in the prehypertension category (between 120/80 and 139/89 mm Hg) should be rechecked within four to six months, and those with a normal reading (less than 120/80 mm Hg) should be rechecked annually. However, your doctor may schedule a follow-up visit sooner if your previous blood pressure measurements were considerably lower; if signs of damage to the heart, brain, kidneys, and eyes are present; or if you have other cardiovascular risk factors. Also, most doctors routinely check your blood pressure whenever you go in for an office visit. For more on getting your blood pressure under control, buy Controlling Your Blood Pressure, a Special Health Report from Harvard Medical School.

N/A No No No No No N/A No No No N/A

Lake Mary Primary Care Center, look them up. They should be ashamed. Still, I was not writing the doctor off because I needed the BP med and other things checked and I was hopeful. After all, I waited four months for this appointment. Obviously I was desperate. My BP was 195/115 in the right arm and 185/115 in the left arm and they let me walk out of the office without immediate treatment, but what shocked me most was they gave me a lower dose than the medication my history says worked for more than a decade.

Let's just look at recent history. At one doctor's appointment two weeks ago my BP was 145/80 (no meds x4 weeks). At another on Monday it was something like 190/110 (I started taking the lower med x1 day). Then yesterday it was 195/115 (after taking the right med x3 days {I had five left), which just goes to show it'll take a few weeks of the right med to stabilize again when I finaly get the right med.

The last two doctors let me walk out of the office without trying to bring down my BP. Malpractice, according to the medical industry's own standard. I'll repeat it just to help myself believe it. The new primary, yesterday, gave me the the lower dose. She simply ignored my history and her own staff's BP readings. When the pharmacy called, it went to voicemail. When I called, it went to voicemail. When an assistant called back, she told me the doctor wouldn't change it and explained why three times as if I was an idiot.

I finally asked if she was interested in my history since I've had doctors treating me for high BP for fifteen years and this doctor's judgment was based on a five minute interview, she was condescending. I explained to her the same thing I explained to six different people who popped in and out during my wait for the doctor.

This lowered dose has been tried before and the results were recorded in my history. In her chart my BP was recorded as 195/115 (which should have triggered immediate treatment, not dismissal) and her refusal to give me the meds that have stabilized my BP for well over a decade is what a lawyer might call malpractice, especially since her reason was kidney issues and I am followed by a Nephrologist who prescribed right dose for a year himself and those ran out in February. Her thinking she knows my kidneys better than better than the kidney specialist is dangerous for me. The assistant said the doctor will not change the dosage. I said I'll find the med I need elsewhere. She said fine.

Modern medicine. My BP range was 120/80 to 130/85 for ten years when I gave in to a new very insistent doctor I chose to trust (who assured me I could stop without effects, which was a lie) and started the medication. She kept raising the dosage into it was the maximum dose and that seems to be ok. When I pointed out where we started she said she was advised not to see me anymore. I could have gotten a lawyer then, but I am not into that litigation crap.

When on the right med regularly, it works. Proof is when I was in the hospital last year and the BP was 120/80 or under for two full days without any medication because when taken routinely, the right meds linger a few days, at least.

So I have an appointment with another new primary on Tuesday afternoon.

I hope I make it to then.

Especially since I am pigging out tonight. Let's not pretend to be shocked. It is a rebellious self-indulgence I got away with as a younger child without raging high BP and other medical issues. Tomorrow I play in a softball tournament. If I die, I die. I am not going to stop living because the medical industry got me hooked on a drug and now is putting me through withdrawals. Call 3212176628 if I die. That's the personal injury lawyer who sponsored my softball team for many years.

So serious, huh?

Welcome back.

So, until I find a doctor I can trust to integrate all of my specialist I am stuck with this crazy blood pressure that is actually much worse for the kidneys and body and puts me at serious risk of heart attack or stroke than the medications ever could be and the kidney and other specialists agrees.

Thunder and lightning outside.

A fine way to go.

Narf :)

Unfinished Melody

This entry, the song, the soundtrack, the playlist, the love... still, it turns me on.

I love it when it is most simple...


The song reaches so deep into my heart, all the way to the core.

I can even tolerate variations...



and when it gets real for artists, you can tell... they were married thirty years ago...



and the words change ever so slightly

and the last chord was left unfinished...
Irony, coincidence, gods, fates, some universal energy, perhaps just a convenient soundtrack mimicking life, but in the end, it was written for a movie...


even though the BeeGees did their own video, eventually...


May I offer these distraction?

original

v
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Ah, but as if the universe (or youtube) knew the history of my musical and emotional life, they gave me this coincidence, irony, whatever... it was 42 (42, get it?) years ago today (really?)... the theme from the five disc (cassette) soundtrack of my escape plan...




(But maybe there is no escape, aye? :)