Disclaimer: this is about my cancer but I've posted a number of #Blotto articles so this probably isn't necessary anymore.
There's a lotta confusion amid the pilgrims who will be coming down to the Rockhouse. Some things need to be precise since I would love to see all of my sibs but I won't fault any who can't make it. There is news on that since Doc will be coming by and it's a surprise but a welcome one.
This is a one-time-only chance at absolution for all of us and anything which has preceded this time really doesn't matter. Absolving me doesn't change things much since I'm croaked anyway but it is something I can give to you in knowing there are no hexes, curses, or anything of that foul nature. More than anything else, it's a chance to let it go, whatever it is.
I don't have any better way than the #Blotto to get information to you since it's the only way I can be sure everyone can read it due to its accessibility. Facebook has some value for communication but it's primarily designed for individual communication as opposed to #Blotto which plays to as many who can climb aboard. I'm trying at texting but I completely suck at it. It does seem the #Blotto is the best move or at least my best move. Talking is mostly overwhelming and Yevette has been aces about front-ending it.
The memories which set the stage for this are such as racing in the same kart but alternating at VacaValley enduro races with Doc and we knew that would mean we would lose the race but that's how we did it since otherwise one of us would not have had a ride. There is the memory or working with Queen Bee to make WEBSTER and both of us were just giving it all away because our ol' Dad needed it. I remember Tinkerbell and Lotho when we thought it would be a clever idea to hitchhike to Disneyland in the early 70s as that expedition definitely qualified for King Hell Crazy. I probably remember Lotho the most since we did every damn thing together for years. Barbie can't come but I don't forget her either and the feelings are the same about her.
There is neither rancor nor discontent and I love you all. Like the G-man was amused to say, we're the bloods. My memory with him is of the way he carted me around in his wheelchair van when I was so busted only my right arm was still working. He did that many, many times. Those are the memories I'm carrying and I don't forget there are bad ones but it is the one chance for all of us to throw those ones away.
There is substantive news from VA since a social worker contacted Yevette to tell her she will send forms about Hospice, VA Cremation, etc. More than likely that means it's free and the GOP doesn't like that word too much but I don't see any vets driving out there in Maseratis. It's a tremendous relief here since there's no money to pay for such things. This way there's no grave, no funeral, and no muss or fuss plus there's no way VA will skank her with an expensive coffin just to burn it.
Zen Yogi: I thought you were terrified of coffins anyway?
Of course, Yogi, since you look at any horror movie and it will almost certainly have a fuckin' coffin in it.
Zen Yogi: how is a cremation better?
I'll ask Yevette to chuck my ashes into the Trinity River here in Fort Worth and then I will become an alligator.
Zen Yogi: you will get reincarnated as an alligator?
Sure since no-one screws with alligators.
Zen Yogi: they sometimes eat people!
Yah but people have to realize when you go somewhere and you're not the top predator that means you're a food source. The alligator isn't mean, he's just hungry.
Zen Yogi: the tiny critters can take even the big critters
And the big wheel keeps turning around, Yogi.
Zen Yogi: you won't eat Yevette, right?
No chance since she's got more sense than to swim with alligators and there are plenty more in that river already. After Houston, Fort Worth will likely see more yet. They're freshwater gators so they have nowhere to go except up-river. It ain't no country swimmin' hole in the Trinity, son.
Hospice is the part for which it's my preference it comes after the flyby since that part is in-your-face death and the vibe here is life until it's not since I believe any other thinking throws away whatever remains. It may help you to know VA provides some form of in-home hospice care and that sounds excellent since the sterility of the hospice is not an appealing thing.
Hospice also provides what's likely to be the final Exit Plan since they will keep boosting your morphine as long as you're capable of asking for it even when they know you will overdose on it. The hospice is about compassion rather than legal technicalities.
Morphine is currently at 30 mg and there's amelioration but it doesn't annihilate the pain. I may not push it so much more since this brings the situation to manageability. There is some cost to it, mostly in terms of more sleep needed, but the expense isn't so high it's debilitating.
One more since Ms Kersa will see me forthwith and Ms Rita will call Yevette to work out the details. That talk will go straight to getting some food into me and will also formalize the situation with morphine.
That should about do it so ...
Zen Yogi: time to flop?
You got it, Yogi.
There's a lotta confusion amid the pilgrims who will be coming down to the Rockhouse. Some things need to be precise since I would love to see all of my sibs but I won't fault any who can't make it. There is news on that since Doc will be coming by and it's a surprise but a welcome one.
This is a one-time-only chance at absolution for all of us and anything which has preceded this time really doesn't matter. Absolving me doesn't change things much since I'm croaked anyway but it is something I can give to you in knowing there are no hexes, curses, or anything of that foul nature. More than anything else, it's a chance to let it go, whatever it is.
I don't have any better way than the #Blotto to get information to you since it's the only way I can be sure everyone can read it due to its accessibility. Facebook has some value for communication but it's primarily designed for individual communication as opposed to #Blotto which plays to as many who can climb aboard. I'm trying at texting but I completely suck at it. It does seem the #Blotto is the best move or at least my best move. Talking is mostly overwhelming and Yevette has been aces about front-ending it.
The memories which set the stage for this are such as racing in the same kart but alternating at VacaValley enduro races with Doc and we knew that would mean we would lose the race but that's how we did it since otherwise one of us would not have had a ride. There is the memory or working with Queen Bee to make WEBSTER and both of us were just giving it all away because our ol' Dad needed it. I remember Tinkerbell and Lotho when we thought it would be a clever idea to hitchhike to Disneyland in the early 70s as that expedition definitely qualified for King Hell Crazy. I probably remember Lotho the most since we did every damn thing together for years. Barbie can't come but I don't forget her either and the feelings are the same about her.
There is neither rancor nor discontent and I love you all. Like the G-man was amused to say, we're the bloods. My memory with him is of the way he carted me around in his wheelchair van when I was so busted only my right arm was still working. He did that many, many times. Those are the memories I'm carrying and I don't forget there are bad ones but it is the one chance for all of us to throw those ones away.
There is substantive news from VA since a social worker contacted Yevette to tell her she will send forms about Hospice, VA Cremation, etc. More than likely that means it's free and the GOP doesn't like that word too much but I don't see any vets driving out there in Maseratis. It's a tremendous relief here since there's no money to pay for such things. This way there's no grave, no funeral, and no muss or fuss plus there's no way VA will skank her with an expensive coffin just to burn it.
Zen Yogi: I thought you were terrified of coffins anyway?
Of course, Yogi, since you look at any horror movie and it will almost certainly have a fuckin' coffin in it.
Zen Yogi: how is a cremation better?
I'll ask Yevette to chuck my ashes into the Trinity River here in Fort Worth and then I will become an alligator.
Zen Yogi: you will get reincarnated as an alligator?
Sure since no-one screws with alligators.
Zen Yogi: they sometimes eat people!
Yah but people have to realize when you go somewhere and you're not the top predator that means you're a food source. The alligator isn't mean, he's just hungry.
Zen Yogi: the tiny critters can take even the big critters
And the big wheel keeps turning around, Yogi.
Zen Yogi: you won't eat Yevette, right?
No chance since she's got more sense than to swim with alligators and there are plenty more in that river already. After Houston, Fort Worth will likely see more yet. They're freshwater gators so they have nowhere to go except up-river. It ain't no country swimmin' hole in the Trinity, son.
Hospice is the part for which it's my preference it comes after the flyby since that part is in-your-face death and the vibe here is life until it's not since I believe any other thinking throws away whatever remains. It may help you to know VA provides some form of in-home hospice care and that sounds excellent since the sterility of the hospice is not an appealing thing.
Hospice also provides what's likely to be the final Exit Plan since they will keep boosting your morphine as long as you're capable of asking for it even when they know you will overdose on it. The hospice is about compassion rather than legal technicalities.
Morphine is currently at 30 mg and there's amelioration but it doesn't annihilate the pain. I may not push it so much more since this brings the situation to manageability. There is some cost to it, mostly in terms of more sleep needed, but the expense isn't so high it's debilitating.
One more since Ms Kersa will see me forthwith and Ms Rita will call Yevette to work out the details. That talk will go straight to getting some food into me and will also formalize the situation with morphine.
That should about do it so ...
Zen Yogi: time to flop?
You got it, Yogi.
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