' Migraines And Moths; Fibromyalgia And Spiders.....'

‘ Migraines And Moths; Fibromyalgia And Spiders: Excruciating Pains Within A Most Neglected Kitchen  ‘

04/13/12

Oh, my sweet and dearest friends, and as always, my loyal, and ever constant readers, how often—in the resent past—have I spoken to you about pain? And, to that end, have mentioned a searing, tearing pain that would drive a thousand tongues to babble in an extraordinary suffering that readily eclipses the mind and body’s ability to endure; perhaps that has become old news by now, but in trying to make a fair assessment, would mention these things to you as they are common occurrences.

Were I younger, and better able to withstand what seldom pain I had, and, blissfully not knowing what really true pain lay ahead, I would have fully doubted (or greatly suspected and rejected it as being a thing, impossible), that time, and accumulated illnesses would so corrupt my mortal frame as to frequently make of it a most loathsome and despised thing.

That twenty-five year old photograph of me, now posted on MDJunction—having no previous experience in agonizing pains, nor the subsequent collection of illnesses—does not care, because it cannot care; and yet, with all its juvenile assumption finds itself placed more often in the witness box, to be grilled by angry questions from a Present self.  And lacking solid evidence of culpability nevertheless is found guilty—to very least—of not having savored each and every curious and wonderful day, when they cannot be thus favored now.

To use but one illustration, in those long-ago days, what I ‘then’ believed to be incapacitating headache, could—when I was ten—be gotten rid of by one of my dear, late mother’s glass of iced coffee (which, in a Texas summer tasted wonderfully cold and refreshing, and which BTW, began a half-century love affair with ‘coffee ice-cream’); and, later—at twenty-five—could still most easily be whisked-away from me with just one or two regular strength Tylenol.

This morning, friends, at just before 5:00 AM, I awoke, again, out in the kitchen, having left the patio door sliders open, but—today—with a migraine so severe that my head and body simply could not contain it; it was to a agony of pain that radiated through my pores, until I was covered all over in a chilling sweat, having already somehow wet myself.

I rocked, and cried, and disturbed Daisy with my endless suffering, as I dropped cigarette after cigarette to roll, unheeded on the counter top, until little rivulets of ashes lay here and there.

My ever kind, supportive friends, I know fully that you—too—have your pain, and suffering that causes you unnatural despair, and so, dear friends—without melodrama, nor hyperbole, you will, I think, quite understand when I tell you, that for the past three hours (especially as soon as I awoke to such a migraine), that, could I have died, I would have; without protestation, without resentment, nor with apportioned blame.

As very soon I could, I began to take pain medication, not even really counting the doses that I took; and although everything I took (and yes, I took multiple doses of anything I thought might help), so that a lingering effect of achy creepiness remained, I frankly did not care.  I ask you (who have suffered as have no other), what would you do?  When being in such a totality of pain causes you to take much more medication than was ever prescribed, or else, begin to wonder if you have a revolver, and where it is.  And, dearest friends, as I pledged once to not ever lie to you, what I am attempting to describe to you, may be taken at full-face value.  And more’s the pity that pure and unrelieved pain can do that easily.  And…often caused by the slightest effort.

In 1978, when my mother and father purchased the double-wide, mobile home, that now has come to be ‘my home’, one of the features in the small kitchen is a handy, little, built-in pantry; in addition to holding a broom and mop and dustpan, contains seldom used pots, and pans; my aluminum foil, and Saran Wrap; a supply of light bulbs; my cigarettes; and other oddments, and ‘important lock-box papers’.  In addition, this pantry is where I keep the dog food, both canned, and dry.

Most recently, and twice—before—I began to notice moths flying about the inside of the pantry, or perched on the ceiling, above.  In the darkness if that neglected pantry, the moths laid eggs, and multiplied, and multiplied, until they were not only abuzz inside the pantry, but, one very early morning, when—in hoping to get something to drink, and maybe have a couple of cigarettes—I turned on the kitchen lights to behold, perhaps, a hundred moths, filling the air around me.  I staggered around, killing all the moths that I could reach, to find their wings covered in a kind of grey/white dust that always left a mark behind…one difficult to eradicate.  I got out the flyswatter for the ones on the ceiling, but that night (as there have been so many), my fibromyalgia made my attempts to stand on tip-toe on a kitchen stool—while weaving back and forth, unsteadily-- to reach out to smash the little bastards into oblivion, made me dizzy, and light-headed. And most likely to fall, again.

My wonderful C.N.A., Mary, found out that the bag of Daisy’s dry dog food was FULL of moths, and spidery with the cocoons of egg casings. Mary then went through my kitchen cabinets to find that all my pasta, rice, cereal, and any grain product ruined, and blackened at the bottom with moths, and eggs, and…tiny worms, necessitating that everything be taken out in the trash.  I lost ALL of my dry goods. 

So prolific were these little s.o.bs’, that they quickly migrated through the house, into my bed room, and clothes’ closet, where they snuggled-in among my ‘everyday’ threads, and further, into my woolen wear.  I couldn’t seem to kill them fast enough.  The killer was when I had gotten a new, unopened box of corn flakes, and the very next day after I had opened it, inside I could count four moths.  After having had only one bowl of a giant-sized box of cornflakes, they—too—joined the cavalcade of needed food out to the garbage.

Not even once in twenty-six years, had we ever had such an infestation, that I telephoned the County’s agricultural Office; and what I subsequently learned will chill your very poop.

Apparently, in nearly EVERYTHING we buy that is a grain or cereal product (dog food counts, too!), the eggs of the unhatched moths are already there; they’re almost too small to detect, and impossible to winnow out before packaging.  Should you prepare any of these products shortly after purchase, the eggs will not have had enough time to hatch, and with pasta or grain products—for example—the product and the eggs are simply cooked as one, and are harmless.  But did you know that you are eating them, nonetheless?

The moths are known as “Indian Meal Moths”, who hatch only when the products have not be touched in months; I had—for example—purchased an eighteen pound bag of dry dog food for Daisy; I was not able to use it up fast enough, so the moth eggs hatched, becoming little crawling worms (Jesus) that cocoon until they—too—become moths.

Fortunately, there are pheromone traps with an intensive glue inside that attracts the moths, then captures them until they croak, preventing them from laying eggs. In a fairly short time—having interrupted their life cycle—they begin to lessen, until they are gone.  To do that, though, I had to pay my cousin to purchase for me, two, five-pack sets which I placed in the pantry, the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom and the Study, and in both my closets, for when—in time—the traps were overflowing with dead moths, I replaced them with new traps.

And, I now have little spiders in my pantry, who descend, and rise on single threads, but, who all seem to be carrying egg sacks; so what I shall do about them is another matter, as they seem impervious to the moth traps.  In addition to, again, more recent moths.   At least the moths seem uninterested in eating clothes, or dining off woolens.

Frankly, my very, very dearest friends, and loyal readers, I cannot decide quite what disgusts me more: seeing squadrons of flying moths throughout the house, or…knowing that—in general—I am actually having to eat unprocessed eggs, in my cereal, rice, grain, pasta, breads, or flour.  Not to mention the chance of finding spiders in the bananas, or roaches in the produce.

The only possible solutions that I can even think of are preventative:

1)           Buy your rice, cereal, and pasta—for example—with full intentions of using it soon, rather than letting it remain hidden on your kitchen shelves for weeks.

2)           After purchase, place the entire box, itself, or the contents of an opened box in a zip-lock bag, appropriate to size.

3)           Keep your opened condiment, sugar, bread, and coffee in your refrigerator; that way, they will be protected, and stay fresher, longer.

4)           Unless you absolutely cannot help it, never leave dirty dishes with food on them on the sink; either rinse them off, or—as I did—use paper plates that can be jettisoned after each meal.

5)           Do not let your kitchen garbage can become sour, dirty, or…overflowing; if your pain causes you to be less diligent in emptying the trash, give the full bag a dusting with Carpet Fresh, and tie most tightly.  Before you put in a new bag, sprinkle the bottom of the can with Carpet Fresh, or baking soda to help eliminate odors.

6)           The ways that dry pet food (kibbles) are prepared and stored, make of them an excellent moth-breeding ground.  Once the bag has been opened, the moths can not only crawl in, but they can apparently burrow-though the bag.  So, wherever you keep your dry pet food, whether in a pantry, or out in the garage, place the opened, rolled-up bag into a larger plastic garbage bag, and seal as tightly as you can.; some people simply empty the dry pet food into a large, plastic bin with wheels and a sealable top.  The size would—of course—depend upon the weight and size of the bag.  And, unless you have someone who can do it for you, since I have fibromyalgia, and chronic pain, I would—unless necessity dictates (were you—for example—to have two or three very large dogs) that you avoid buying dry pet food in 40-50 pound bags.  For although it may be more economical, such a heavy bag will prove difficult to move, and impossible to lift; that is why I now buy Daisy’s food in eight pound bags, and still have difficulty maneuvering it around, or picking it up to pour in her dish.

It is a miracle, my most dear friends, that that 5:00AM, rampaging headache is actually almost gone; as an afterthought, I still ache nearly everywhere, and am SO very tired, and can now entertain what I like to refer to as: ‘Headache Hangover’, which—if the Past is any indicator of the Present means that I will be tired and shell-shocked almost all day, into the evening; I truly mind-fogged, and weary, and, is not unlike a hangover from too much alcohol.

I wish for you days free of pain or of distress; calm, and quiet days of wonder, and of secret joy.  I wish for you your kitchen cabinets be full of goodies (and NO moths !);  prosperity, and more than enough to get you through the month!; I wish you caring friends, and that you be surrounded by those who truly love and treasure you; safe afternoons of balmy, pleasant weather; and blissful and pain free nights of glorious sleep, free from nightmare, or disturbance, always protected, and made easy by winged flights of gentle angels; and…all the love and happiness that you kind heart can hold!

Please always know I love you dearly,

‘Zahc’/Charles

' My Very Dearest, Wonderful Friends, A 'Life' Test For You...'

‘ My Very Dearest, Wonderful Friends, A ‘Life’ Test For You: Is There A ‘Balance In Your Life? ‘

04/11/12

One morning at about 5:00 AM, with my hair undone, and sprawled over my head which was cradled in my arms, I—once again—awoke in an utter agony of pain, sitting out at the kitchen counter; I did not reach full consciousness easily, but resisted it with all my sense of purpose.  My eyes were blurry, almost glued shut, keeping tempi with my heartbeat as my head thrummed in a migraine so severe that I felt red-faced, and sweaty.  It almost seemed as if I had been dragged awake in jagged stages, to find myself in such a totality of pain, that I began to rock back and forth as I sat there, tears, slowly running down my face, and over sinuses, and a nose that was clogged with congestion.

My voice was capable of making only aching, animal-like sounds, and from my illnesses—and, having spent most of the night in an office chair in a kitchen whose lights were suddenly too bright, they hurt my eyes.  At that moment, I could not pause to rationally assay the seeming limitless of my pain.  And yet, to try to somehow, reclaiming my scattered thoughts, I allowed the pain to tear through me, as every muscle and joint resonated with pain, and I imagine all bodily systems were as impaired.

Quickly, I lumbered over to where I keep my pain medication, and took extra the ordered dose, because—at that point—I did not care, and…DO not care, when faced with such an thorough assemblage of utter pain, as long as I do not use up my prescriptions too soon, if they can instill some often brief relief, I will thus take them, leaving consequence, and consideration, until some more-relaxed time.

To me, there is no 1—10 pain scale; there is either a regular amount of pain that I can bear, to that which most effectively reduces me to an ‘animal state’ of pure reaction.

But, my very, very dearest friends, and ever kind and constant readers, while I was waiting for the coffee to be made—in an ‘adult’ attempt to shrug-away the suffering; while sipping on a reflective, and steaming hot cup of coffee, holding yet another cigarette in trembling hands, as the pain medications slowly, ever slowly brought down ( but did not eliminate!) by mind and body’s global agony, not six feet away from me, was my dog Daisy, sleeping on the living room rug, her whispered exhalations letting me know that she was sound asleep, and who occasionally has pain of her own; here was the dog who had adopted my late mother and I some twelve years ago, who had decided to extend her trust to us, rather than to a mongrel’s brief, and uncertain life, to enlist us in her own, small ‘pack’, and, for times both good and bad, was on the day of her arrival, committing self to carefully guard her ‘humans’.

I suddenly experienced a rush of love for her; that she had dutifully followed me sometime during the night from the ease and comfort of the bedroom carpet, two feet from me, to follow me out to the kitchen, to stay with me, be with me, for, even if her silly ‘human’ wants to leave the warmth, and comfort of the bed—behind—to seek my rest, instead out in the kitchen then—to her—I must have had an important reason for doing so, and so kept me in her snoring sight to ever be close to me.  And, for that, I was suddenly grateful.

I realize that those at MDJunction come from many ages, and many, different complaints, yet, we still have a few things in common:

1)           That very curiosity that makes us Human.

2)            The pains and losses and despairs we share, as:

3)           In having such unutterably pain, we seek to know ‘why?’, and ‘where?’, and how much?’.

4)            As social creatures, even in our worst conditions, we still seek those at MDJunction, and, elsewhere, with whom we can bond, and share our complaints, knowing that MDJ—by and large—is a ‘safe zone’, in which no judgmental, nor negative comments will be offered; that only hope will  attend our frail, and inchoate searchings.

5)           There is no cure, and so, we look to others to see how they manage and ‘get by’, despite crippling pain.

6)           How often at this site, have we found compassion, support, and care too often denied us in life, when there is often no one else to care; or can care; or even hope to care?

7)           We all come to the table offering different ages, lifestyles, and circumstances. Often—though-- we are self-deluded, trapped, by, ‘can’t; won’t; couldn’t; shouldn’t’, to which I would ask you for a while to change—and consider instead, ‘can; will; could; and should.’

And while many times, I have heard (or said myself!), our illnesses and our suffering somehow draws a line across the sand of all our hopes, aspirations, dreams, desires, yet I would kindly ask you to consider—for a moment—my erred paraphrasing of the late Socio/Humanist Philosopher, Joseph Campbell, who once said that, were we to look back upon the events of our lives, close and bias-free, we might see a most discrete line—as fine as spider web—that would seem to reject all randomness to reveal a chart or path that would appear to have some, linked-together, and purposeful path, that somehow had meaning, truth, and beauty to it.

What I am asking of you, my dearest friends, is to take some much-needed quiet time (hopefully when pains are reduced, lest they pollute the scale), and with honesty and sincerity, evaluate your life to this hour, this minute, this very second.  Think of it as a something of a ‘Life Quiz’; for which you’ll need a lined tablet, and a reliable pen.  I have not, will not ask you to consider religion, or lack of it, for the true responsibility of ‘tending’ to your spirituality is unique, and much your own business; neither—for the same reason—am I interested in your politics, or of your ‘global’ opinion…for that is

yours and yours alone.  The assay I want you to take is more simplistic, more basic, and—perhaps—more about ‘fun’, than ‘fundamentals’.

Upon this tablet, I want you to draw a line down the center; label by number, if you so choose; one column titled ‘X’, and, the second, title ‘O’.  For what I am truly asking you to do is to make an evaluation of your lives, filled with both good and bad occurrences.

For every ‘yes’, you may—as you’d like—to place under each heading, an ‘ X’; and for every ‘no’, perhaps an ’ O ‘.

Remember, please that this not a scientific, to-be-published work; it is not professional in any way, but is based loosely on insurance actuality tables, some, little past experience, and personal observation these past forty years, and some twenty+years as a health care provider, with some reference to my work and degree in Social and Behavioral Sciences.  And so, I must confess to you, my very dearest friends, that a lot of thought went into these questions.

And while the questions might seem either odd or inappropriate, I do believe that they impact our daily lives, but that the ‘Quiz’ is both casual and arbitrary.

All it involves is that you be rigorously honest with yourself, in marking both ‘X’s’, and ‘O’s’. Should a question not apply, just skip over it to the next.

The goal is to give you (in totaling both the ‘X’s’, and the ‘O’s’), a rough look at the balance in your life; obviously—then, in general—the more ‘X’s’ that you add up, the better.  But having ‘O’s’, does not in any way imply that you are somehow a ‘bad’ or ‘deficient’ person.  Only YOU will be able to ascertain any areas of your life that need changing.

The questions that I shall pose come in no certain order, nor of magnitude.  What started my consideration was that morning I awoke in so much pain…yet, beyond me was my dog Daisy, who loved me unconditionally.

 In addition, in order to make the questions answerable with both, ‘X’s’, and ‘O’s’, most—perforce—are ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions; for those questions that have deeper roots, I gladly leave them to you.  For, inside your very secret heart of hearts will you find other answers should you but seek them.

I asking for this ‘review’ of you, of course it is not scientific in any way, and, I must confess to you—dearest friends—that I seek answers for myself, and much as for you.  Alright.  Comfortable?  Quiet? Ready to go?  If so, please

let us kindly commence.  Remember, take your time, taking breaks as you may want them.

1)           Do you live alone? Give one ‘ O ‘.

2)           If you live with others, are you happy with the arrangement? If yes, one ‘X ‘; if no, one, ‘ O ’.

3)           Do you have a pet? If yes, one ‘ X’; if not place a ‘O’in the appropriate column.

4)           If you have up to three pets, one ‘ X ‘.

5)           If you have over five pets, one ‘ O ‘.

6)           Do you have children with criminal records? Or, in re-hab.? Or, in endless trouble? One ‘ O ‘, for each child.

7)           Do you have children who obey the law, are—in general—considerate and loving? One ‘ X ‘, for each child.

8)           In the past five years, have you had more than one relationship? Place a ‘O’ there.

9)           If you have had no relationships in that time, give two ‘O’s’.

10)   If—in the past five years—you have had only one relationship, ‘X’;

11)   If—in the past ten years—you have had only one relationship, mark two ‘X’s’.

12)   Would you consider your current relationship to be abusive in any way?  Place a ‘O’ there.

13)   If you are currently trying to escape from an abusive situation? Mark down an ‘X’.

14)   If you have successfully escaped from an abusive relationship, and are no longer abused, write down three ‘ X’s’.

My very, very dearest friends…please note that I have—after a long, soul-search—included relationships that are abusive, or that have become toxic; it is in NO way my intention to make light of, or, in any way make less serious, and often, life-threatening abusive relationships can be.  Nor, is it my goal to in any way attempt to lessen the pernicious EVIL that is abuse. NO ONE deserves to be abused…whether spouses, children…or pets.  I cannot help but laud the bravery of those who seek to escape from such relationships; I hope that my past stance on abuse will speak for me.  Neither do I think that the penalties for abuse are strong enough, nor are the vital resources needed are as established and available as should they be, to help those trying to end abuse.

But, after much thought, I decided to include it here, as it is a demonstrable, though lamentable part of Life, and—as such—could not be readily ignored, and…it does impact most severely the lives of those who are abused.  While I am seeking to provide a rough ‘live’ examination to you, and to all my constant, loyal readers, we all—nevertheless—have a distinct obligation to use our minds and hearts, and souls to report abuse whenever it is seen.  I apologize from my heart if I have offended anyone reading this, and hope you will see my meaning as if pertains to this entry, and this entry alone.

 15) Do you have a running car, a reliable source of transportation?  If yes, place an ‘ X ‘.  If not, place an ‘O .’

16) For every, major credit card you have that is maxed out, place an ‘ O ‘.  For every one

you have—that currently—you have a charged balance less than 35% of your credit limit, place an ‘X ‘.

17) Do you have a savings account? If yes, place an ‘X’.

18) If you have more than $150.00 in savings, place an ‘X’.

19) If you own your own home outright, mark down two, ‘X’s’.

20) If you are able to make mortgage payments, or rent, on time, ‘X’.

21) If you have trouble making these payments, ‘O’.

22) If—this past week—you, or you family has had to miss a major meal owing to finances: ‘O’, for every meal.

23) Do you smoke? ‘O’

24) If you do not smoke: ‘X’.

25) Are you considered overweight ? If yes, then ‘O’; if no, then, ‘X’.

26) If you eat 1-2 servings of fish a week, mark an ‘X’; if not, mark a ‘O’.

27) If you are on prescription medications and take them as ordered, regularly, write in an ‘X’; if you cannot afford them; or forget doses, or just skip them, mark a ‘O’.

28) Do you have health insurance? ‘X’; if not, mark ‘O’.

29) Do you see a Primary or Pain Management physician at least once a month?: ‘X’; if not, mark with a ‘O’.

30) How many very close, caring, and reliable friends do you have? For each friend, mark an ‘X’.

31) If you feel you do not have friends, please write two ‘O’s’.

32) Do you routinely sleep from 6-9 hours every night (you may also want to consider naps ), ‘X’

33) Do you often have trouble sleeping, or sleep less than 6 hours a night, ‘O’.

34) Do you sleep more than 12-14 hours a day? Mark down two ‘O’s’.

35) If you have grandchildren who live locally, can you see them without difficulty, or parental consent? Place an ‘X’ for every yes, ‘O’ for every no.

36) Do you have any religious affiliations, or believe in a ‘higher power’? Put ‘X’ for yes, ‘O’ for no.

37) Do you pray fairly regularly? ‘X’

38) If you pray, do you pray for yourself more, or others more? If yourself, ‘O’; if for others: ‘X’.

39) In any given week, how many times do you tell someone you love them?

      A. fives time a week or daily, five ‘X’s’;

         B. two to four times a week, two’X’s’;

         C. One time a week, ‘X’;

         D. Rarely, if ever, or never, three, ‘O’s’.

40) What is your ‘usual’ pain level?

       A. 7—10, on a ten point scale:  four ‘O’s’;

       B. 5—7+, three ‘O’s.

       C. 3—5, two ‘O’s’

       D. 1—3, one ‘O’.

       E. My pain level is always around ‘2’ or less; is controlled by my medication; or I can bear it. ‘X’.

41) In general, I am happy: ‘X’

42) In general I am sad: ‘O’.

43) I think of death a lot: five ‘O’s’.

Again, my very dearest friends, while we all occasionally contemplate mortality, to think about it constantly warrants immediate intervention, either by self, or by concerned family members; while I included it here, as sort of a general guide to self-feelings, morbid, repetitive thoughts of death, or of potential self-harm, should be treated by a professional Therapist of Psychiatrist at once. Behaviors that might be demonstrated for a family member or a friend to see include, but are not limited to: 1) isolation; 2) verbal expressions; 3) a depression that seems unrelieved, or worsens; 4) nightmare; 5) paradoxical behavior strange to the individual, whether in speaking, dressing, a sudden lack of interest in former interests; 6) inattention to hygiene; 7) too much sleep, and the inability to want to wake up; 8) if on prescription medications, taking them erratically, or too frequently; 9) the abuse of alcohol, and/or other abused substances; 10) secretiveness, or hiding behavior.

Please do not wait until an individual has begun to fully exhibit these behaviors, and above all, please do not—in rage, or lack of patience yell at them, shake them, or simply tell them to “Snap out of it.” And please never be so cruel as to dare them to follow-through on their statements. For if you cannot help that person, except to encourage these negative behaviors, then please, please step aside to allow that individual to get real help, from those who DO care.

In Conclusion

I have—at some length—tried to present to each of you—my very, dearest friends—with a simple, and very generalized “ Wellbeing Assay”, that I hope, in writing down, might hope to better codify your feelings within your current situations.  And while I freely admit that in lacking professional status, it is—at best—a highly subjective, and personalized way of ‘keeping score’, of how you may be, whenever you should happen to take the Quiz, for it can be taken over and over again, at intervals to measure both your progress, and your hopes.

Of course, it is my fondest hope that—as you reckon up each value, and then add the total number of ‘X’s’, and,’O’s’ together, you will, in fact come away with a greater number of ‘X’s’ in hopes to show you that, while some areas in your life may be hardly perfect, yet, you are doing the best you can, which is an admirable task these days, considering your illness(es), your pain, the economy, your health, and your social strengths.

Should your total involve a few more ‘O’s’, than ‘X’s’, then there are a myriad ways (not all included in this assay), where concerned energy, regard, safety and love can result in improvement.

For despite the many, and often seemingly unalterable and overwhelming circumstances in our lives, it has been ever my sincerest desire that you be happy, fulfilled, and…truly blessed.  I wish for you—as always—days of lessened, or of ‘no pain’; quiet, wonderful days surrounded by ones who truly love you; income-sufficient to meet your needs, AND, provide a little extra.  And a natural tiredness at end of day; and nights of restorative, and pain-free sleep, as ever kept safe, and guarded by loving, watchful angels.

Please always know I love you dearly

‘Zahc’/ Charles

'....A Too Typical Weekend...'

‘ A Too Typical Weekend; A New Injury; An Unexpected Kindness From A Neighbor’s Daughter; Pain, And A Tribute To my Dog ‘

04/09/12

To my ever dear, and wonderful friends, and kind, and loyal readers,

I don’t know why I seem to expect something more, something different on the Holidays; perhaps, some bit of new excitement, pulse-racing with anticipation, and much hoped-for delight, perhaps.  Of course, none of those things happen in the imagination fueled by a rejection of utter sameness, and, as always, pin-cushioned in a hundred places by pain that circles like some foreboding formation of vultures, waiting for the prey to die.

So alike are these days, consisting of unending hours, wherein there is a struggle to maintain an inertia of basic needs, such as preparing tasteless suppers; too much coffee; and of always dosing up, my day predicated by cyclonic agonies, that weary, yet prolong the passing of the day.  Friday—for example—is now a blur to me…there was nothing even slightly memorable about it.  I do recall I took an whole sleeping pill, though it did not stop the nightmares, nor the frequent wakening, nor of finding myself—again, sitting out at the kitchen counter, head in hands, in a kind of twilight sleep—waking cold, with the back door open to all and sundry sometime around three AM.

On Saturday, while reaching in an odd, sideways posture to reach around the coffee pot to get the coffee jar, in leaning over, heard a distinct ‘popping’ sound, that meant I had re-fractured, an already multiply fractured rib; oh great….another pain to pile on top of pain (oh yes, my dearest friends, pain can be stacked like that).

Late Sunday, there was a faint knock to the front door; the daughter of my neighbor had brought me a little plate of ham, and mashed potatoes, and green bean casserole; on top of that, was a small pan with a piece of pumpkin pie in it; two small brownies; a cupcake; and a small bowl of Easter-style, Hershey’s kisses.  It was a kind and thoughtful gesture, that—in even thinking of me—struck me as inordinately generous.

And lastly, for this evening, and for others in the past, I will often be sitting at the computer, or else, back out to the kitchen, half-consumed by pain, or, waiting for a couple of pain pills to settle in, and only leave me wuzzle-headed; better than the pain, assuredly.  Before long, I hear the scritching of her claws upon the wooden floor, and Daisy—with what I can only describe as a smile on her face (as I DO believe they can smile !), as she comes up to me to put her head in my lap; she only wants a few minutes of attention, and—if I am able to do so—will slowly lower myself to the floor to ‘play’ with her; she fully KNOWS when Daddy hurts all over, and—at fourteen, now, I imagine that she has more than a few pains of her own.

She really IS my only company; and while I often I could do much better by her, I could not lover her more, and I also think—this too—she knows.

Soon…too soon, perhaps, but the, what else is there?, it will be time to retire to my freshened bed.  And, Daisy will come in to turn-around the requisite three, or four times, hoping—I suppose—to find that one, most comfortable place to lie down on the rug beside my bed; and since her canine conscience is much clearer than mine, I often hear her snoring before I can even drift off.  I want her to relax, and in a ‘doggie R.E.M.’, find plenty of rabbits and squirrels to chase.

For during the night, she protects me, waking to bark, if something, or someone is outside, and near the house.

And so, my very dearest friends, and constant readers, I hope that you and your family or friends enjoyed a singularly pleasant Easter weekend, with music, joy, games, and toys; and LOTS of wonderful, delicious food (and, don’t forget the chocolate bunnies !).

I wish you happiness, a lack of pain, and a solid, restful sleep!

Please always know I love you dearly,

‘Zahc’/Charles