The Story Cure; book review

The Story Cure, by  Dinty W. Moore, is a well written guide for the novel writer.
It will take you through each section of your book with tips and ideas that should help keep you writing fluidly. 
It will guide you through plot and character problems, as well as a host of other concerns,  giving you easy to understand solutions.
Once you have written down the bones of your novel, you can move ahead to the more diligent aspect of revision.
Take your time with this, and just follow along,
Before long your novel will begin the unfold before you.  What could be better than that?!

I received this book from Blogging for Books in exchange for an honest review.

back to life

As you can see, its been quite some time since coming here with any kind of an update on my life.
I hardly know where to begin, as some things that I've experienced are quite hazy to me.
Back in early August, I believe I was at Maimonides hospital, and for all intents and purposes they transferred me to Cobblehill nursing facility, because, it seemed, that I was on the verge of death.
My oncologist, Dr. Burdette, meanwhile, did not intervene in any way, and completely dropped the ball in terms of my healthcare.
At Cobblehill things got even worse.  If I was on the verge of death, they were certain to be the last nail in the coffin.
Overloaded with pain medication and tranquilizers (oxycodone, morphine, zanax) I became a virtual zombie.  I was unable to move or speak, or even think for that matter.  I could see the fear and sorrow on my sister and niece's faces as they sat at my bedside thinking I wasn't long for this world.  They were going to send me to hospice before long.  My closest friends were notified of my impending death.  I remember Amelia and Jeff coming and holding me close.  At one point I was alone with Jeff and he told me he loved me, and I said back to him, "I love you, too, Jeff." which were the first and only words I said or would say for a long time.
Ultimately, my niece, Melissa, couldn't take it anymore, and she wanted me out of Cobblehill.  She had me sent by ambulance to Methodist hospital.  She actually works for Methodist, across the street from the hospital in the administrative offices.  She works with care management nurses.  Her boss and co-workers were very helpful to her (and in turn, me) in getting things set up for me.
At Methodist I was able to get clean from all those narcotics, keeping only the bare minimum.
Slowly....so slowly, I started to come around.  Forming a clear thought and speaking a few words was difficult.  It literally took me hours to tell Melissa the words "apple sauce".  I knew I wanted it, but could not think of the words.  Once I got past that, other thoughts and sentences started to emerge; quite often it was about food and drink.  Applesauce, pudding and juice with ice were high on my list.
At Cobblehill I had not eaten for eleven days!  So this was a start.  Then finally I was able to eat a full meal.
I went to Menorah rehab facility for quite some time, learning how to walk again, basically.  I participated in physical and occupational therapies.
I was then transferred to Methodist , fighting severe COPD exacerbation, bouts of pneumonia, and of course the metastatic breast cancer badly affecting my bones and lungs. 
Every afternoon Melissa would come and spend her lunch hour with me, bringing coffee and donuts from Dunkin' Donuts.
I dropped all of my old doctors who were associated with Maimonides, and hooked up with new ones affiliated with Methodist... this included a new PCP, oncologist, pain control md, and a pulmonologist... all of which I will follow up with in the near future.
I was discharged from the hospital just a few days ago.
It is slow going right now.  I have severe neuropathy in my feet, making it very difficult to walk, plus bad shortness of breath on even the slightest exertion.  So, getting around is not at all easy.
Adult Protective Services came in and cleaned out my apartment, which was in bad shape.  I've been staying with Evie since being discharged, but hope to be back in my own place before long.

The Cancer Chronicles: Part 2, This is my Sundance

This is my Sundance

This is my sundance, my ritual
my flight

crashing
As I juggle my life
in an attempt
to rebuild my identity.

I am fourteen again,
discovering the Ching
and spending a liftetime learning
what those hexagrams mean.

I dance with angels and fairies.

There are magical encounters
with teachers and hawks.
Wolf comes to visit in dreams
over and over again, she will not
be ignored.
And soon,
we run together, play with crows,
walk in Medicine Wheels, and
Celtic labyrinths.
We journey with the drum,
my cottonwood ally,
my song to the Thunder Beings.

Old Taoist influence revisits,
showing me the Barefoot doctor way,
dreaming in a cloud of moxa smoke
and moving energy
balancing qi
with slender needles.

This was my sundance, my ritual, my flight.

In past life readings I am a nun,
again and again, the original nurse --
and so it would be in this liftetime.
My patients knew me by the cologne I wore,
walking into their darkened rooms
on the night shift.

Then death took my father, and
my flight went crashing
deep in the ocean
where I would drown
again and again.

Suicide seemed logical, but
two-doctor commitment orders over-rode 
my attempts to disappear.

No ritual, no dance.

The years would wash clean with tears.
Solitary road trips brought me back to life.

I relearned the dance.
I created sacred ritual.
I began to fly again.

Then one day, a lump stung my armpit, 
brought me to doctors.
A cyst, no doubt, was my conclusion.

Instead, my breasts
were removed.
Chemo exacted a cure.
Radiation was the cherry on top.
No evidence of disease, they said.

This helped me to fly, to dance.

Reconstructing my breasts
brought me a world of pain.

And death once again would rob me.
This time, my mother,
my confidante,
The one person who knew me
Inside and out.

And the cancer spread
to my spine and ribs,
the pain getting deeper,
I could not breathe,
the hospital became  my second home.

Fearful of the Ching's honest appraisal,
I don't throw the coins anymore.

I grow gaunt
Unable to walk a single block
without falling apart.

I'm crashing
I'm burning
I can't remember my song.

Afraid to sleep for fear
I won't wake
I push myself
to the limits of exhaustion.
I tell time by the next dose
of pain killers.

This is my sundance,
my ritual,
my flight in the
face of death.

book review: Story Genius

book review: Story Genius, by Lisa Cron
If you want to read a good book, on writing try anything but this one.  I recommend Writing Down the Bones, by Natalie Goldberg, and On Writing, by Stephen King.  This book is boring and repetitive.  Don't waste your time with this one when there are several others out there that are worth reading.

The Cancer Chronicles, continued

barefoot doctor

pain creeps up like an angry cat

ready to rip your throat out

should you make the  wrong move.

During sleep 

I opt for dreams

instead of medication

and wake with aching bones

untouched by the morning dose.

Combing crystals through the air

I collect and discard

the sudden mud

of my aura,  and

Tuning forks sing their song

into my flesh

dancing with my bones

To bring peace

&

quiet.

Sometimes I boogie,

sometimes I don't

I pick and choose my medicine.

Crystals to clear and nurture,

Power songs to weave a circle

where I will sit for a moment

In time

transforming energy,

redirecting qi.

But this metastatic cancer

is a harsh mistress

Often refusing to budge

with either Oriental recipes

or Occidental masks.

Sometimes things work, bringing

relief, or tolerance, and

letting me believe in magic

once again.

The Cancer Chronicles, part one

Sunday Morning (a day in the life)

The radiator spews heat and

there is no cool  breeze

coming through the window.

Shifting between time and days

I am unable to make sense

of the days,

Having been trapped like a bug

in amber

The bed sticks to my thighs

as if encasing me

in the slow drip of time,

A thick gush of resin

suffocating me.

No blue light of dawn

wakes me gently,

But rough transitions

of light to dark

with no twilight song

to welcome me

No pink tides across the sky

No violet hues or powder blues.

My legs stiffen and swell.

My movements stiffen and swell.

There is no release.

It is like glass cracking

beneath my skin

Creating a mosaic of flesh.

The hair on my body recedes

like an old woman

balding from head to toe,

A rapid demise of youth,

now just a memory.

                                    ***

Re-entry, Stage 4

Here is the prisoner of Cancer

unable to free herself

despite good behavior, and a

plea for pardons

sent up on the voices of prayer

by family and friends, and

even the most innocent of children.

We do not bend over and spread

our ass cheeks in search of contraband

But we are naked and exposed

Standing helpless as

not-so-magic markers

define the areas that will be incised and

excised, 

Leaving your chest flat and scarred and

seemingly Cancer-free.

And yet

The doors don't open,

the prisoner must return

after months of freedom,

Suddenly unable to defend herself

to even the highest court of God and

all his angels.

The cell grows smaller,

Spaces close in

as disease overtakes the prisoner,

Bit by bit

Encroaching upon her Lungs

with  no space to breathe;

Occupying her bones and

replacing it with pain

Like a punishment

for crimes

She can't remember committing.

Appeals fall on deaf ears,

Bones grow more brittle, breaking

her will to live 

at times, 

in this small box of lies.

"There must be some mistake" she cries.

"No', they say, 'We found new evidence

(of disease)  -  You're a Lifer now,

like it or not  -  Join the others

on Stage 4."

                                                 ***

long time no see

Hey folks, long time no see.
I have been without a computer (both my Surface and my desktop are not working since before Christmas... November probably.) for a good long time, and it doesn't look like I will be up for getting repairs any time soon.  Using my friend, Evie's, laptop, now and then, but haven't gotten round to posting anything on my blog in ages.

Very recently, I had a CAT scan, to see if those chemo drugs I've been taking for the past almost-year, have been working to stop the progression of the disease.

Well, the news wasn't good.  The drugs aren't working, and I've developed nodules on my lungs that weren't there before, and a worsening of the bone metastasis.  Definitely not the news I wanted to hear.

Breathing is always very tough, and now I know it is more than just the COPD.          

But life goes on.

I've been going to the Cancer Center  a lot recently, having been unable to do so for a long time...  My legs/feet were numb, and so swollen I couldn't get my shoes on.  I'm now able to get them on, though I'm still quite swollen... And also still numb.  Starting a drug called Gabapentin to help with that.

I'll be starting a new medication regime, since the one I was on wasn't working, and had to be discontinued.
I will have a daily oral hormone pill... anti-estrogen, I believe, and bi-weekly (to become monthly after a few treatments) intramuscular injections (one in each butt cheek) of some other targeting agent.

So, hopefully these new medications will work.

Accepting all positive vibes and prayers, etc.

Stay joyful.

send in the clowns

Been a while since I've checked in here,  so it's about time.

Its been a roller coaster ride, I guess you'd say.  Some days I'm just about ready to call an ambulance to take me to the ER, on other days, I'm feeling a bit stronger and positive.  Often times I'm somewhere in between.

Me and Evie will spend Christmas time and New Year's Eve together, which is great... thank God for her in my life... But still, I miss my family very much, and not being with them, especially on Christmas Eve, just sucks.  I just can't make that stairway to Melissa's apartment, and no one comes here, so family time just isn't happening.

Right now I can hardly remember the last time I went out.  I guess it was some doctor's appointment, and proved to be a very hard time just getting there and back.

The home-care people from my insurance company set me up with a pcp visit at home so I could get my prescriptions mostly.  That was all well and good, but I told him how I really needed a motorized wheelchair or scooter to help me get around.  I was under the impression that one's pcp sends in the prescription for that, but this guy told me he couldn't do that.  What the hell?  He could get me a cane, big whoop.  I can only walk so far without getting short of breath.. Maybe half a block if I'm lucky.  A standard wheelchair wouldn't do me any good either, because the exertion from pushing it myself would also hinder my breathing.  I just don't understand.  I'm not sure who can help me with this, either.  Having suffered with depression for the past twenty-five years or so, I'm surprised I haven't jumped into the Atlantic at this point.  But death is not something I'm in any hurry to get to... hell, just the opposite.

To say I have cabin-fever would be a gross understatement.

Some people in my life have started to say "good-bye" to me.  Two people in particular.  One being an online friend, the other being a dear old friend of mine.  I guess they want to tell me what I mean to them while I'm still alive.  It's pretty weird, though, and I never imagined such a thing happening.  A part of me is touched by the sentiment.  Another part of me just wants to say "Hey stop!  I'm not going anywhere any time soon."   But who really knows?

I remember getting mad at my mom because she had signed DNR (do not resuscitate) papers the last time she was in the hospital.  Now I  understand a bit better, and have even signed those papers myself.  I just didn't want to face that reality with my mom.  For myself, it's a little easier.  No walk in the park, though.

I keep pretty crazy hours.  3am now, and I had planned on going to sleep, but here I am, back at the computer.  I get very congested if I lay down for too long, and waking up unable to breathe well is very scary, so I am always putting it off until I am literally falling out while sitting up.

As much as it hurts not to have my mom around anymore, I am glad she doesn't have to live through watching me go through this. It would have made her so sad.  Although I believe that she is watching me from above, I also believe that those who have passed on don't have any value judgement concerning those of us who are alive. That is, she knows what's going on but does not view it as good or bad... she just knows, and that is good enough.  I sure do miss her, though.  I miss my dad, too, of course, but its been over 25 years that he's gone now, so I'm a bit more used to it, I guess you'd say.  Mom will be gone just two years this coming February, so it's still pretty new, really.

So, that's about it.

I wish everyone out there a very Merry Christmas, and pray that 2017 brings only good stuff into your lives.

Peace.

nothing good

Went to the cancer center the day before yesterday, and had a very hard time of it.  Legs and feet are so swollen I couldn't fit in my shoes.  Can barely walk, and used a wheelchair once I got to the center.  Was supposed to get a new pain control regime prescribed for me, but the woman (dr?) I met with had no authority to  order methadone, which, in conjunction with the oxycodone, helped me when I was in the hospital.  How ridiculous that I can't get something that helped me.  So sick of everything now.  I'm at the end of my rope, and rapidly losing hope.  Not feeling so "brave" anymore.  What is there to be brave about anyway.
Had major trouble getting in the car because I can't lift my legs very well.  Won't be able to go to Melissa's for Thanksgiving, since there's a long stairway to her apartment.

seen better days

The day before yesterday, I was discharged from Lutheran Medical Center, after a 5 day stay.  Didn't go to Maimonides as I usually do, but the EMS guy who drove the ambulance said it was crazy busy there.
Went in mainly because of my breathing, and generally was having a lot of pain.
Didn't really recover there... I am wheezing badly still when I walk a bit.  Got several different inhalers prescribed, and just hope they start helping.
A palliative care team saw me, and after much conversation we all agreed on treatment with Methadone started at a very light dose of 10mg twice a day.   It was soon changed to 10mg 3X a day, but they don't send you home with it, and I need to see a palliative care team at the cancer center in order to get it.  Hoping I can get there next week.  Oxycodone 20mg every 4 hours continues with everything.
My legs are very tingly weak tight and numbish.  I fell in the early morning hours of the day I was discharged after getting out of bed to  use the bathroom.  Just couldn't support myself.  Hit my head against my room mate's bed, and had to get a CAT scan (negative).
So, upon discharge I still didn't have great breathing capacity....had not ambulated at all during my stay, except to use the bathroom; had a fall. and could barely walk.
Signed DNR (do not resuscitate) papers when I was in there.  After much discussion of possible outcomes, it seemed the thing to do.
Came home to my modem on the fritz and no internet access (have since come to evie's to stay for at least the night).
And Trump is president-elect, the ultimate horror.
And so it goes...

missing my mom

I am missing my mom so much.  I just want to talk to her.  Not about anything so deep or profound.... maybe just talk about television shows we both watched, and what we thought of them.  She would say "watch that tonight, and we'll talk about it, tomorrow."  Oh, how I miss such simple pleasures.
Today I bought Sugar Wafer cookies, and some Halvah.  She loved both of these sweet treats.  What a sweet tooth she had.  How fitting that she would marry a baker, and always have some cake or cookies available for dessert.  Mom's meal wasn't complete unless it included dessert.
Years ago we had the finer candy stores in the neighborhood.  Places like Loft's, and Baricini's.  It was from these places that she would buy her beloved Truffles, and Parlays.  She would "hide" them from us in hopes of having them last longer.  But she always hid them in the same spot!...  in the china cabinet.  Of course we'd find them.
She was never fat, though.  In her twenties, she only weighed about 105 pounds, and was quite slim.  In her 30's she got a little chunky after my dad bought the bakery, and they were living high on the hog.  But during the next decade, in her 40's, she got Multiple Sclerosis, and would lose the weight she had gained.
I miss her laugh, and how well she could read me, no matter what.
She would be shocked and dismayed at what I am going through these days, though.  But it sure would be a comfort to have her at this time.
This Sugar Wafer's for you, mom.   I love you, and miss you always.

just another day

Time to check in, I guess.
It hasn't been the best of times over the past month.  No great changes, really, but bad bouts of shortness of breath/rapid breathing, etc., which just does me in, and is so scary.
Haven't seen my doctor in a while, and am overdue for my injections.   I have an appointment this coming monday, and I just hope I can make it.  I think Evie might go with me, and that would help.
Ran out of my pain meds a few days ago, and it took three days to reach someone to finally get a script called into the pharmacy.  Then the pharmacy calls me saying it's five days too early for this prescription to be filled, and they want to know why.  Duh, why do you think?  I don't know how it worked out, but I did end up getting the meds today.  Thank goodness, because the level of pain was really affecting my breathing.  I didn't realize the correlation between the pain and the breathing until now really.  When the meds started kicking in, my breathing improved considerably.  It is no doubt that crushing feeling I get in my chest area that affects it the most. 
Hard to believe it is mid-October already.  Great to be past the summer.  Its been kind of chilly in the low 50's, and even in the 40's during the night.  I love it.  Nothing better than being cozy under the blankets.
I miss taking pictures.    I've hardly taken any this year.  I pray I can make it up the stairs to Melissa's on Thanksgiving.  At least I will get some family and food pics.  Same goes for Christmas.  These holidays will be upon us before you know it.

dream disturbance

I get so troubled by dreams when I try to sleep, that I am often awakened before I've even had an hour of shut-eye.  This sucks, as I often put off sleep as long as I can, and I will sit here, falling out, before I allow myself to submit to the desire.

Tonight it was my mother being overly worried about the amount of time I spend on the computer, and complaining that my phone line is tied up during all that time.  I woke up, and sat in bed, still continuing a conversation with her in my head, explaining why I spend so much time here, until it occurs to me that she is dead, and I haven't had a "dial-up" connection tying up the phone line in oh so many years.

And, of course, I go to my computer.

I think it is the oral chemo med that causes so much dream disturbance.  I take it for 21 days, then have a 7 day break before beginning the cycle again, and yesterday was my restart date. This drug really runs the gamut of side effects.  They don't seem to subside either, as side effects often do after a couple of weeks or so.  Been taking it about 4 months now.

I think there's a good chance I may have broken a rib recently.  Pathological breaks will occur with bone metastasis without actually sustaining any type of injury.  My bone mets specifically affects my spine and ribs.  Right sided rib pain has increased significantly, and movement and deep breaths exacerbates it.  The area is tender to the touch.  Quite similar to when I actually broke a rib after fainting and falling flat on my back onto the hardwood floor.  I see my oncologist in a couple of days, and I suppose she will send me for x-rays.

Got a call from a lawyer's office today about owing over $900 to Maimonides hospital for various doctor's visits dating back as far as 2010 (??).  Had a call some months ago about owing some $2300 for hospital stays and procedures.  They always want to set up a payment plan, and I always just say no, can't do it.  Can't get blood from a rock, folks... sorry 'bout that.

Guess I'll take another shot at sleeping.

Big Brother 18

Been watching Big Brother three nights a week, as I have during the summer season for the past eighteen years.  When I started watching, I was in my forties, and most of the "houseguests" are usually in their twenties or thirties, with an odd 40-something now and then, maybe even a 50.  Of course, the older I get, the younger they get.  I also subscribe to the live feeds (cameras are on these people 24/7), and I can tune in any time of day or night to see what's going on with them.  This gives a better picture of them, beyond what is broadcast on prime time.
This season, they all seem unsually young, generally 23-27, and relating to them, on almost any level, is virtually impossible... Except for maybe closeness with family, and stuff like that, the division I feel with most of them is tremendous.
There are some potentially good minds in the house, but these people need some work, that's for sure.  Paul comes from money (they did a segment where his mom and dad were interviewed in thier mansion like home), and has a tendency to stress how unimportant the money is to him (winner gets $500K).  I can see how he prides himself on the unimportance of money.  That is a positive thing of course, but I can say, without fear of contradiction, that Paul has never gone hungry, without more than a pitcher of water in the fridge (assuming the electricity didn't get turned off).  Take a walk there, Paul, and then tell me how unimportant money is.  He has a small clothing company (think black with skulls), and frequents Europe
Michelle, is heavily into social media, and seems to see this as a career path.  She needs a lot of reassurance, and because of that, she doens't seem to have a good sense of self. Wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her.
Victor is quite young, 23, I think, and laughs a lot, and likes to make people laugh.  He's Puerto Rican, and is real easy on the eyes.  He seems to be the most regular guy of them all.  I'd like to see him win, but odds are that he'll be "evicted" soon.
They ALL use the word "literally" every other sentence, it seems.  There is rarely a valid reason for using the word to begin with, and why they interject it anywhere and everywhere is just beyond me.
A lot them curse incessantly.
They use the word "bone" to indicate sex.  Yea, that's sexy.  Geez.
The girls spend half the day putting on make-up and doing their hair.
The boys pump iron.
I think they call this generation, The Millennials
God help them.

Wonderland coloring pages

Here are some quick shots of pages I colored in the Wonderland coloring book.  My apologies for the blurriness; I didn't spend much time setting these up.  Some pictures covered both pages, but weren't photographed that way.  Click on any pic to view as a clickable slideshow.

I used Pentel Arts Fine-Point Color Markers.

oh to be in Saranac Lake

I check the weather at the online site called Weather Underground.  Along with current and future forecasts, there is an area that shows the state lows and highs.  Invariably, the highs will be  close to home, like New York City, Queens, Yonkers, etc.  The lowest of lows is almost always at Saranac Lake.  Yesterday's high was in NYC, at 91 degrees, and the low at Saranac Lake was 50 degrees.  Major difference there.
I've been to Saranac Lake once, when I was doing audits on medical offices throughout New York State. It is located not far below the Canadian border, amidst the Adirondack Mountains, I believe. The doctor's office was in the middle of nowhere, as most things seemed to be in that area.  It was run by a Chinese doctor and his wife.  Much of their medical equipment was quite old fashioned, including an otoscope made of wood.  The doctor and his wife were sweet and soft-spoken, their demeanor reflective of the mellow surroundings of Saranac Lake.
This is the kind of easy and laid back type of place I wouldn't mind living in.  I would certainly enjoy the weather... even in winter, when the lows are often in single digits.
Nevertheless, I live in Brooklyn, where the temps are most often higher than New York City temps which are recorded in Central Park.
Chances are I will spend the rest of my life in Brooklyn... the past being a fairly good indicator of the future.
If I owned a car, I might actually consider moving upstate, but even if I did, it would mean moving away from my sister/niece and great nephew, which would probaly be too hard to do.  I imagine Evie would consider moving with me, which is why I didn't name her among people I'd be leaving behind.  I bet we could rent a house for half the price of what I'm paying for a one-bedroom apartment.
The heat was terribly oppressive yesterday, feeling a lot worse than the readings of low 90's.  The air was just thick with the heat.
I had gone to the cancer center, where I had to get an IV calcium infusion, before getting the injection that aides my bone strength.  It was so cold at the center that I had to be covered with a blanket while getting the infusion.  I am not complaining.
When I went back outside, the heat came as a shock after spending hours of shivering in the center.
Luckily, I've been able to use my air conditioner without any more leaking.  Mark Durfee, fellow poet and blogger (The Walking Man, http://themanwhowalksalonewalksfaster.blogspot.com/) had suggested to me that I raise the temperature setting, and lower the energy mode, to ward off the leaking problem, which thankfully, it did.  Just about saved my life, considering the heatwaves we've been having.  Bless you, Mark!

Book Review: Understanding Exposure (How to shoot great photographs with any camera) by Brian Peterson, 4th edition

Having been a photographer for over 35 years, I am pretty familiar with the Exposure Triangle, and how to use it, but it is always good to have a nice reference book at hand to inspire and encourage me to use my knowledge more effectively.
I enjoy all the varied photographs showing the same subject at different exposures, and how this can greatly effect the outcome.
I very much enjoyed the section on Light.  It included:  the best light, frontlight, overcast frontlight, sidelight, and backlight.  Again, giving good examples of each.  
Also, the section on shutter speed, giving good examples and techniques for freezing motion, and implying motion.
I have never been one for using filters, but recently acquired some polarizing and neutral density filters, so the Special Techniques section, outlining these exact filters, was quite welcome.
Despite my many years of photography, I have never quite mastered the art of using electronic flash.  There's a very comprehensive section on this, and I will no doubt refer to it many times in my quest for understanding it.
This is a good photography reference tool for beginners and advanced photographers as well.
For more information, click on these links:  

• More Info
• Author Bio

I received this book from Blogging for Books in return for publishing an honest review.

on Becoming a Bird, despite being Earth-bound

Becoming a Bird


Broken wings lay against your breastbone
digging deep to the other side
A visceral attachment
Seemingly significant, yet still
you cannot fly.

Iridescent feathers lay flat against your cheekbones
Your eyes are separated by yet another,
You are cross-eyed, two by two,
Visually aware of elemental differences
that further define the yin and the yang
You can see.

Playing hopscotch with frogs
defines your personality
You like to laugh,
but you will not win.

Everything is in the trees,
and on the edges of clouds and
deep hanging fog.

But all you need is a sidewalk
and chalk
if you want to play.

wonder when it started

Just two years ago, on summer vacation with my sister, niece, and great-nephew, I was still pretty active.  The only real discomfort I felt at the time was from the breast expanders I had in me since the double mastectomy.
I was able to take a running start to jump into the pool, and did a great deal of walking the day we went to Hershey Park.

Even last year, I was still doing pretty good when we went away in the summer. That was several months after the reconstruction.  I was able to climb the ladder to use the pool slide, and spent many hours playing around in the water.

There was just one day, I remember, when I was in a lot of pain, and spent most of the day in bed.  Other than that, I was doing fairly well, considering.
It was soon after the reconstruction reversal this year, in March, that I started to really go downhill.  Of course, the pain (mostly in my abdominal area) had been persistent for fourteen months.  But then the breathing problems really came to the forefront, which of course precipitated that first hospital admission, where the diagnosis of breast cancer metastasis was made.
Prior to the admission, I'd started having bad leg pain, which I kind of chalked up to on and off leg pains I'd had most of my life.  Since I was a kid, I'd suffered with bad knee pains at various times in my life, and though this pain felt more severe, and involved my entire leg, not just the knees, I didn't think there was something more ominous going on.  Little did I know that I was now experiencing painful metastatic bone pain.
Had I not gone to the hospital because of my breathing problem, there's no telling how long I'd remain undiagnosed.
I wonder when the mets started. 
I had the PET scan back in April or May of 2014, after chemo was completed, but before radiation started, and that's when they told me I was cancer free.  So, sometime within the next two years, the metastasis developed.
I have been on some kind of pain control for the past year and a half, now taking oxycodone every 4-6 hours.  Sometimes I try to do without it for a few more hours, but pain comes back full force, unfortunately.
Recently my legs have started to get very numb and painful soon after standing up.  Feels like a thousand rubber bands gradually tightening around my legs from my feet to my knees.  Almost makes it impossible to walk.
Worse than the pain is the breathing problems, which don't improve much at all.  I can't walk more than half a block without stopping to rest.  This keeps me more or less homebound.
Yesterday, I went to the cancer center to get the injection for my bones.  Turns out my calcium was low again, despite taking a calcium pill and calcium carbonate oral suspension every eight hours since being discharged from the hospital last month... so, I was unable to get the injection.
Next week I have to go for an IV calcium infusion, which will take two to three hours, hopefully improving my levels, so I can continue with the injections.
I worry about the effects on my heart, since the low calcium caused me to have EKG changes.
I don't understand why my calcium is so low when I'm taking so much stuff to regulate it, and haven't had one of those injections (which causes the levels to drop) in about two months.
What the fuck body?  Why aren't you cooperating?

what's been happening

Well, it's August now, so summer is moving on, thank God.  Another couple of months, and blessed Autumn will come in.  None too soon for me.
A couple of days ago, my superintendent came to my apartment saying there was water pouring down into the apartment below me, so apparently it was my problem.  After he left, I discovered that my bedroom air conditioner was leaking badly from the bottom, causing a virtual flood that I never even noticed.  Cleaned it all up, and shut down the a.c., letting the super know I'd solved the problem.
Unfortunately, I have an a.c. that is useless to me now, and it's only 3 years old.  The one in the living room worked for nearly 18 years, before dying this year, the compressor failing to kick in.  I use the a.c.'s mainly because they help me breathe better in the hot and humid weather, and we've been having heat wave after heatwave lately.  Now I am out of luck, unable to afford fixing the newer one, or buying a new one, for that matter.  The bad heatwaves seem to have subsided for the time being, and I just hope I can endure the rest of the summer with the one fan that I have.

Got these things called knitted knockers for free from a site online (knittedknockers.org). 

They are knitted with a fiberfilling, and meant to be used in lieu of a breast prothesis.  Says they can be worn with any bra.  I threw out all of my bras after I had the double mastectomy, so  last night I sent for an inexpensive one so I can try these things out.  Hope they work; I would like to have some semblence of breasts when I get dressed, and I've yet to get prosthetic forms, which I know can be heavy and uncomfortable. 

Bought some more Ensure Plus today, since I continue to have a numb mouth with an odd taste, and nothing tastes good or right anymore.  No doctors have really addressed this problem, except to say that it might be caused by my calcium deficiency, and since that was corrected when I was in the hospital, it may just be something I have to live with.  Everything has the same sort of salty, yet somewhat indistinguishable taste.  It truly sucks.

Found out today that I've been approved for Access-A-Ride, which makes me very happy.  I can get transportation from my home to anywhere in the 5 boroughs for the same price as a bus trip.  I spend a fortune on car service to get around, so this will save me a lot of money.

My hair is falling out pretty drastically due to the oral chemo meds.  Unsure if I will go completely bald again, or if it will just get really thin.  If bald patches start up, I will probably just shave it all off again.

I haven't been back to the Cancer Center since getting out of the hospital, mainly because I just haven't felt well enough.  I know I have to get myself together and start getting back there again this week, since I need to get those injections that help my bones and my blood.

Been coloring a lot in the Wonderland coloring book.  Will maybe take some pics of stuff soon to show you.