It is not possible to have a better time than I had last night.  We had part one of my partner's full month Birthday Month.  But, this month of celebrations of his 50th Birthday, is actually one of him giving thanks to those who have helped in in his adult live, starting at about 17 yrs. old.

So, he invited over a few hundred people to one of the bars where he is the lead bartender and a manager.

This was a night in which we saw him thank not only us in the crowd, but, more, two four people who really led him in a positive way to working in bars and also have a fulfilling life.

From 7pm until 9:45pm he and the four guys, in full drag put on a show that everyone, straight, gay, bi, whatever, for none of that mattered. This man is truly loved by so many due to his everlasting compassion, friendship ideals, making people laugh and it goes on and on.  Damn, I have never seen a birthday person spend a good amount of money to turn the tables on those who really helped him become the adult so many of us which we could be; you know, from integrity to sincerity and more.

I have not shown any of the audience, though in this day it should not matter, I do not want to risk the wrath of ignorant hate on anyone in attendance, which had noting to do with sexual orientation.

I find that part so very sad and it is like people who attending and performed at this extravaganza that will keep pushing people to see the truth.  The truth that anyone with any free thought knows. we are all in this together, plus, not one person every decided - made a decision - with whom they would fall in love.  It is as natural as it gets, we know it, but, some people need someone to hate - no matter what justification for their hateful, but safely couched words which tells the other person you are not as good as I am.  Yet, when asked, the first person, the person with such hate can not remember the day or week they decided on whom they would fall in love.

The main thing, so many people had such a great time due to the love of a great guy.

For pictures head over to Google Plus and Stephen Carey.

These past three months have been a bit extraordinary in the "tough on the body" part of life.  In this time I have had two surgical procedures on one knee, and have spent over ten (10) days in hospital. 

For me, this is not necessarily a unique series of events.  It is just how my physical health has been going.  The biggest issue remains the extreme chronic pain which four (4) - I just think that doing that with numbers makes this look much more important than it can possibly be - doctors have concluded that there is no case on record ( I don't know who actually keeps these records) of a person living with the pain level that is my "normal," without slipping into a coma or taking their own live.  I can attest to the pain and how it is beyond belief despite the best in medical, both eastern and western, care. 

For me to live my life as a relativity decent man, I must keep up with my spiritual life.  That is what I live, that is who I am.  And, in cases of having a run of a couple of bad months to add on to what already seems beyond comprehension takes a strong faith in my spiritual/philosophical life.

At my last stay in a hospital which is only about three (3) miles from here, I had a nurse, either trying to be kind or trying to show me she lived a better life than I did.  And, at that moment, with my having tossed my cookies for three (3) days straight, who was I to argue.  My life was mostly tossing empty cookie packaging into the wonderfully mauve colored pail which I hung onto as it it were a lifeline.

This nice nurse crossed a line when she told me that "spirituality" was really just a code word for those who were not Christian and still wanted people to think of them in a good light.

Between grasping my pail and making gross noises, I asked her how she knew that she was correct.  I went on to say that I have never heard of any type of "God," "Allah," " Higher Power," actually have spoken on or written on anything called "religion."                                                                  

I asked her, what is religion? 

I was aware of my spiritual self before I could talk, though, I could not verbalize what I felt.  Then, one day, when I was about five (I am getting tired of writing the little numeral after the spelling of the word, okay?) years old.  I used the word daemon and how my friend, my daemon had been with me forever.  And, that my daemon had been chosen by me at some point before my first breath or the hospital air.  He/it was not a God, god, or spirit, it was my guide  to help take me through the spiritual life which I knew was mine only a few years after I uttered the word daemon.

I believe in Stoicism.  It began to take off and really be understood around 350BC.  It grew and developed, then, in the time that  Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius was managing Rome, during the time frame of 161to 180 AD. This brave man develed deep into what it meant to be a Stoic and practice, Stoicism.  It has grown in many ways these past few thousands of years.

It seems my nurse did not think I was being appreciative to her God for the wonderful care I had gotten in the past and that time.   I explained that my insurance company had git the seven digits in dollars paid.  I personally had spent over $500,000 of my own money, plus I had/have bills in excess of $115,000,  And, that I felt it was my spiritual self that kept me going, even when doctors kept telling me I could not be alive.

The thing I noticed about that is while they felt I should be dead or in a coma, at the very least, I still should pay my copay to them at the beginning of our appointments.

This bit of rambling on spirituality is due to the fact that while I always understood what I believed, or thought I did, I still had so much more room for growth.  And, maybe help other people find their spiritual self as I moved forward.  I do NOT mean that these people found what I believe, but, that they found their spiritual self which for whatever reason had been locked away for much of their life.   It is this type of thing, of exchange, of a chance to learn, which gives me the ability to stay semi-sane while in this horrid pain, but, with this wonderful spiritual life I have.

I hope that you have found yours, or, if looking, that you find whatever you believe is for you.  You will recognize it, of that I am sure.  Plus, the search is a lot of fun.  I have found that it has taken me to a new reading level, one above posts such as this.

It is late I have two more doctor appointments in the morning. May your day be just what you hoped it would upon your awakening this morning.

I have yet to find in any of my friends the lacking of the experience of feeling like they have been hit by a truck.  It may be a physical feeling, such as running a marathon, or, an emotional (brain, soul, id, ego) pain, sometimes, sad to say, it may be both at one time.

For me, this happened again this past week.  I ended up back in the hospital for, sorry for the expression, tossing my cookies.  Now, this did happen once.  No, it went on 4 and one half days.  It was a non-stop ordeal.  Though, in the end, I am doing fine.

How does being run over by a truck fit into this situation?  Two ways.  One, it takes a lot out of the physical body to toss their cookies about 6 times an hour ( remember, the tossing doesn't happen once per episode, but puts the body through a number of heaves).

This adds up to 96 hours, then we add the approximately 6 times of tossing per hour and we get 576 episodes of tossing cookies.  The last hours things were finally under control.  I was fed via tubes and given gallons of water and many, many injections of what I call, "Stop the Cookies" drugs.

The emotional part is a bit harder to grasp in explaining my emotions about this most recent visit to the hospital.

1) I get upset, for this is due to the massive amount of radiation we had to use to keep me alive - cool, but, man, does it get old.

2) I feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself.  I was in a state-of-the-art hospital, with a great staff and my doctors.  Do I have any real right to gripe to myself when I understand that so many millions on this planet are starving for food, shelter, even water, plus, any kind of real medical care?

In my world, I believe it is okay to be a bit pissed about being so ill.  However, I don't stay there, instead, I move out of my pity and find a way to help those who need food, water, work, medical help and so much more. 

For me, this is my key to staying sane through the extreme chronic pain and the other health issues brought on by great doctors saving my life.  I do understand that I am very blessed to live in a place where I can be medically treated.  I have it good, very good. 

At least that is how I view things..

This one is meant to be brief.  It seems that I have one of the skin cancers.  I haven't gotten all of the information, I just need time to digest the words, then laugh a bit.  I understand that they think this is the semi-not bad skin cancer.  Cut it out, make sure the edges are clean, move on.  Well, I will know how true all of that is in a couple of weeks,  I was told it was very safe for me to work this out in my head (I am giggling a bit, it just seems so beyond what I would have expected.  But, I am really fine, at least for today.

My spiritual life is in good order. My Higher Spirit and my Daemon, plus my ego, id, and soul, are all ready to deal with what comes our way.  Life is supposed to be interesting, I guess, but, this is over the top.  I really would have rather won the lottery, even something small like $5.00.  I know by know that life goes its direction, and I so strongly believe that my Higher Spirit, Mother Earth, and so much more, would not give me more to handle than possible, with help.  That is the key, with help.  And, I am already working on that one.

Have a great day and a great week.

*[I owe a very nice thank you to Mr. FYI.  He took the time to let me know I had a misspelling in the first line of this post's title.  I have no excuse, I know how to write, how to tell stories, but, I am also lazy at times.  It seems these times come around right as I should be going through the grammar process  - I use my knowledge and that of www.grammarly.com - and, when I should do at least three proof readings.  I just slack off and that is like a slap in the face to anyone does stop by to read any of these posts.  I will do better, promise.]

For over six years I battled death as I battled a rather ferocious cancer.  I am in remission, it feels great.  Though, one thing keeps me from really feeling alive again.  That thing is the constant pain brought about by the major weapons we had to bring out to kick the cancer out of me, or, at least keep it from growing any further.

The pain can not be truly described. It exists in various parts of my body, and it never - NEVER - lets up.  Some of the pain can be brought to a near tolerable level with the use of medications, prayer, meditations, and distractions.  Yet, there are two places where the pain is long gone past the point of mediation, distraction, and, even prayer.  The prayers I say are for me to find the strength to lead a good and decent life.  I don't want to live in my pain, there is so much out there which still needs exploring by me.  My team of very good doctors, chiropractors, my hypnotist (who teaches me self-hypnosis, with great success), and a very good acupuncturist, have worked hard and then harder, to get me to a point where suicide is not my first option.  Though, it is right up there and I have no apologies for it being so.

I tried once.  I mean I really tried. Then, as I was chewing and swallowing the last bit of two bottles of very dangerous treatment drugs, I was hit with what I call, two wisp of air - a kind of breeze, yet, so very light.

In the first touch of the flow of air, I saw my partner coming in from work and seeing me dead on the floor.  I could not do that to him.  It would have been incredibly cruel.  The second breeze seemed to show me all of the faces of all of the doctors, my family, my friends, and on and on.  All of whom had played a major part in my still being alive after two oncologists felt I had, with treatment, maybe six months. My primary doctors reminded me that I was a person and not a percentage point.

The odd thing is that I did not feel it was wrong to take me out of this living hill, no matter the work they had done. For, I was not in a world where I could even put words together as the pain played with my mind so often.

But, I could not let my partner find me.  I could barely make it to the phone.  My idea was to hold out as long as I thought I could, then make the 911 call, and, they would find me, and I would not be on the floor as my partner got home from a long night of work.

I dialed those three digits, I got out my address and what I had done - I believe - and then woke up in the ambulance as my heart received a hell of a shock to keep it going.  I then went out and woke up five days later, still on a respirator.  The story continues from there, with some funny and some heartwarming stories about my friends.  But, the point for me is that I find that taking my life is not being a coward, not being a wimp.  No, it is protecting the spiritual life within me, for no one should ever go through this pain.

Okay, to the title of today's post.  It is from the poem below, by Emily Dickinson.  I don't know why, but, while in the hospital I kept remembering studying the poem in one of my college courses.   Soon, I forgot it and went about working to bring down the pain.

Tonight, I was watching a show that TIVO had recorded for me, based on other movies I like, the stars I like, the writers, the directors, all of that.  The movie was The Brave One, with Jodie Foster and Terrence Howard.  Well, read the following and it should all make sense, which is something I try to do every now and then.

Because I could not stop for Death
by Emily Dickinson (see below for significance of this poem to me)

Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –

This evening, while watching a rather dark movie, starring a great full cast of actors and actresses, the main character of this movie, played by Jodi Foster, was walking down a deserted nighttime, New York City street. As she walked, the first portion of this poem was said in narration, by Ms. Foster’s character. I believe the writer left out one word, but, still, I knew the poem and I knew the author. I had not heard it since college, in one of my many English courses.  

Thank heavens for TIVO. I could play it back and forth to make sure I wrote what the character said correctly on a scrap piece of paper close at hand. I then, breaking a rule of mine for this weekend, which was to stay off of the computer, came to the machine and confirmed my belief that it was an Emily Dickinson poem. It is beautiful, sad, eerie. For me, when hearing it read, a visceral reaction went up and down my spine.

It also brought up what is becoming a more and more annoying hole in my life. Which is having someone to discuss such prose and dissect it, so as to better understand the writer's thoughts and life at the time such a wonderful piece of work was written. Was there an incident which prompted these words? Were they just words that the author felt worked together to tell a story of the way some people, in her world, felt or lived their lives.

I guess I miss college. This is the stuff that good college courses are made up of, assuming the professor can bring out the nuances of the work. This piece allowed my classmates and me to delve into the meaning of the words for the poet, and more so, for us, the readers.

I urge you to go to the link below and read this poem, plus, so many others that are just plain incredible.  Please, don't use the excuse you don't like poetry.  Maybe you haven't been exposed to it enough, or by people who can show you that poetry is yet another tool for a storyteller to tell their tales.

Good reading and great prospecting for the words that will find your soul, heart, and id.

Full Poem: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15395

Movie Information: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0476964/

Jodie Foster: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000149/ 

Terrence Howard: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0005024/

More on Emily Dickinson: http://tinyurl.com/2dgep2d

I am sorry that this blog is quite a mess.  There are duplicate and triplicate entries.  This happened when I imported my blog from another, and very good, blog hosting site.  That site is amazing, yet, I needed much more experience to be able to put to use all that they offer.

Since, I can be impatient and even though the instructions from Posterous on importing an in-place blog said not to hit the import button more than once, I kind of hit it three or four times.  I am working my way through the posts to pull out the duplicates.

I kind of like have both of my posts here on Posterous.  It has this family feeling and I like that quite a bit. 

The primary subject of this blog is not changing.  There is much to tell on how one lives in the severe chronic pain I do, plus go through the three or four procedures I am put through every four months, and still keep in a solid place with my Higher Spirit, my spiritual self and life.  So, more to come and I do really hope that as this site is discovered that you will feel comfortable in leaving a comment or just dropping me an email. 

All the best to all or any of you out there!

Okay, something I haven't done on this site, below is the Web address for our home in Costa Rica.  We do rent it out quite often and if a true rental comes from someone seeing the site from this blog, 25% of the normal, posted rate will be deducted from the price. Don't let airfare prices scare you, we find the best deals all of the time and would be happy to help you find flights and prices which work for you, no charge for that add on service.

http://www.atriptoparadise.com for true relaxation, fun, friends, whatever you want it to be ....

And, finally, on of my favorite quotes from the master storyteller:

"Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt".

Measure for Measure (Act I, Scene IV written 1603-1604)
By William Shakespeare 

This is such an odd and silly thing, yet, in the middle of it, I could feel my faith and my connection to my higher spirit being pulled on a bit.

The silly part is that I have made it to remission with my cancer, after many years of work by my great doctors, then a simple clumsy move changes a lot of things.

It was about 5:15 a.m. and I was having a dream.  In that dream I was trying to board a yacht (sounds very much like a Bourne Supremacy plot).  Just as my dream self was almost in the yacht a wave knocked me off and I fell.

If real life, I had been holding on to the edge of the bed.  I let go or my fingers gave out.  I went down.  My head hit the side table so hard that I still have a dimple from the corner of the table.  My head went flying back, my body fell off the bed.  In doing so, my left knee hit the side board on the bed.  Next thing I knew was that I was covered in blood from the head wound, my left knee cap was on the side of my leg and I just hurt a lot.

My partner got me to the hospital, I was taken care of, yet, the knee would and still does need surgery.  I am using a came and a typical knee brace until the surgery, which will happen when I come back from a break at our home in Costa Rica.

The part that actually tested my faith came about a few days later.  I noticed a slight pain in my back - or maybe just in about a half-inch and between my the edge of my left scapula and my spine.  The pain eventually got so bad that I was hospitalizes for it and know one could tell me what was going on.  My thinking was a very odd rotator cuff which somehow had the pain in that area of my back.  This pain has almost no way to describe it horror. 

I came up with, being speared by a molten lead spear, which entered by back, then opened up and let out molten lava which would never cool down, though, it would spread.  After a few hours of using my left arm I was just out of it in pain.  I was and am on pain killers, but, they don’t do a thing for this.

I had my MRI for the shoulder.  I went to the orthopedic doctor for shoulders, in this orthopedic practice in which every doctor seems to have their own joint.  Finally, I see this doctor.  I won’t go into his total lack of bedside manner, but it was dealt with later.  He told me that my rotator cuff was fine.  He felt around a bit - I mean - you know, a bit - three seconds.  And, then he had his diagnosis: my cancer was back in full and there was a tumor.  That was his official diagnosis.  I knew in my heart that he was just a pompous ass.  Yet, as I got in my car, my mind said, no way that was right, but, part of it didn’t know what to believe.  I just didn’t know.  I called some friends and did not discuss this with each of them, I mostly wanted to think about something else.  None of this made sense.

That night the pain was there again and my blood pressure was 197/124 (the lower number being the one the doctors most worry about).  That showed them the level of pain I was in at that time.

I was getting angry at my Higher Spirit for just putting me in this situation.  Well, I was admitted to the hospital and after a few days they could find no reason for the pain.  I was released.  I was now lost as to how my Higher Spirit was helping me get through this.

I soon found out.  I relaxed on night, with my arm in a sling, so, that way I did not use it and there was not significant pain.  My leg was in a brace and my cane (that sounds so silly, but, I could not use crutches) beside me.  I just reflected on what I knew of the body and on the way I described the fall.  I always said that my head was thrown back hard.  I wondered if the muscles and some nerves were damaged.  I saw my primary doctor and he agreed.  So, I started to get help at what has turned out to be an unbelievable physical therapy clinic.  It is high tech, great care, fun people.  They had seen this before.  Now, I am getting care and I will say, the pain is massive when I am there, but it is fine a few minutes later.  The muscles which must have been knotted up are slowly relaxing. 

My pain clinic still wants MRI images of my spine.  Fine, no big deal.  But, I feel that things are going just as they should.

What surprised me most has been how confused I was getting about my Higher Spirit.  What expectations did I have of it?  Was it to heal me with a wisp of air?  No, I found the answer.  It helped me relax enough to realize how well I know my own body.  And, it led me to find the best place for me to get help.  My faith didn’t lapse, but it did get confused.  This is something that I am sure will happen again, and that is okay.  I think that it is normal, at least for me.