Friday, 25th October & "I Do Not Want To Write"

Surely I call myself  a Writer and writers do write but I really do not want to today because: I am tired, I am fatigued, I know the difference and that now scares me. OK, being tired means you exercised something, somehow, to a certain point and it tired you. Relax, recuperate, go again...Nope! I walked downstairs, made one cup of instant ( a way to limit intake before going out) and had four slices of schmeared cream-cheese 12-grain toast. That little bit is tiring especially since I had to go up-down again on the stairs. Count the trips on the stairs. Yes, verily, and until the last 12 - 6 months I would deliberately wind myself on multiple sets of stair-climbing.

     I saw my Doc - CRNP T. C. - because the narcotics for chronic pain are too cumbersome of my breathing and because I have a new pain on my lower front left rib?? WRONG. I have a progression of the pain caused by the aneurysm itself as the weight gain, 30+ pounds,yuck, presses against the aortic artery itself which is not just huge circumferentially but also traversely 10 centimeters, I think I quoted that correctly. Any way I quote this information it scares me and I just found out yesterday about the 10 centimeters and that's a a whole hell of a lot of damn centimeters, like this long a tleast _______________________________________________ and that's a lot of artery to be this wide ____________________. Jeepers, Yes, I am scared!!! and this presses enough on a rib cage to feel like a fracture!!!! Oops, did I say scared? How about RF Scared!? Ok, so the surgery is next Thursday the 31st, Halloween Day but I can think of better ways to be scared. Are there any neurotically human women out there willing to say, "hello how are you, how about coffee or dinner." That's my preferred level of fright because I know it's going to be trick and treat scary. Speaking of dinner how about a whole buncj of nice-minded folks go to Alchemy36 as soon as I can fit more than an appetizer into my diminishing appetite. another way to be scared: where is the weight gain coming from if I am not eating as much. OK, so ice-cream is high caloric intake and I cannot strenuously exercise but this has really gotten serious as to detrimental side-effects. When I have to turn down a bowl of ice cream with my six-foot, eleven inch height and put on 30+ pounds are you sure it's only an aneurysm. that's another side effect. Denial: I look at denial as also making up fears of other symptoms so that the Godzilla ailments are not quite so scary, "Oh, that's not the aneurysm that's something else I can deal with later." Which reminds me that I have two bulgin lumbar discs that brought all of this original pain problem to the surface. Any recommendations on whether to go for Hopkins for Spine & Rehab or try to get Kernan's and University of Maryland. I like the idea of Kernan's but if Hopkins already has my cardiology should I stick with them and have amy neurology also under their roof and care???
     I was going to close with a Poem but I cannot think of any particular...wait a minute..their is my favorite and my signature Poem...lem'me see if I can transcribe it here:

"AT TIMES, MY DOG VISITS"

At times, my dog visits
Where he has no home -
He shows his wide grin, sits in
Your favorite spot,
Looking for a friend, Perhaps
Also a brief rub or scratching -

He will not stay long,
Or, if he lingers,
He knows to go
When sent away...,

Except for me
He is quite
Alone.


Thanks for reading, I hope my stuff is not too gory in detail or needful in a self-pitying way. I have recently met some folks going through many other painful and or mortal medical difficulties and we are mutually supportive rather than...ok, we are needful of hugs and smooches also, but it is the attentions given to good old wonderful friendship that I believe we most value so, thanks for the friendship..., Tim Ward

Sunday, October 20: Another Poem

As my pen pauses the mind regards itself
In a long Autumn afternoon of light
That yet hurries as it shall not last
Like those lazed thoughts on summer's days
When I could gaze opposite the setting sun's rays
And still see well beyond the late evening's darkness
The paths that my love for you had taken in writing
Words that become shorter as winter nears
When we hurry to have our day done
That we might dream new dreams
These long nights we spend
Abed resting and loving
That we might rise
To love more
The next
Day.

- tim ward, sunday, october 20, 2013 @ 2:46pm, Barnes & Noble Johns Hopkins Bookstore

Sunday, October 20: An Autumn Poem

Do others dream as I do
On Autumn afternoons made for love
Of the brilliance of love
In the eyes of a beloved woman
As she paints stories of beauty
Across a horizon where paired hawks
Fly each within the orbit of the other
As they cascade wildly through the skies.

 - tim ward, sunday, october 20,2013 @ 13:9 pm @ Barnes & Noble Hopkins

"More Than A Cat's Purr Could Imagine"

The scratches started at her ankle. It had been a long day and a fair night of endeavours into cuddlesome lovemaking, more heartfelt I Love You's than grand finales to an overture by Tschaikovski. Yet we both fell long and lovingly into the first crisp, cool night of sleep this Autumn. My leg cramps in cold weather are most bothersome and everything with my legs during this arterial illness made them more so from the strain of not enough blood-oxygen to my hips, pelvis, legs, ankles and feet. We both usually slept lightly and I woke almost drunken from the night's deprivation of painkiller forgotten during our earlier repastes of each other's kisses into slumberous embrace. She woke long enough to sigh her bothersome lament at my ongoing dry toe inflictions upon her pearline and beautiful legs and simply said, 'you know what to do, I'm going back to sleep. I pondered a bit and decided this woman of few words meant for the ablutions to begin now rather than later when even in sleep she surely knew we were going swimming the last of the fall good days -brrrr, to her not me - and her legs would be then on display for all. I leave this sojourn at this point, to perhaps let you imagine how you might like the rest of our morning to have gone. A woman's legs are never fully appreciated until they have been carefully and with exquisite detail been massaged and caressed from toe-tips to the beginnings of belly and spine. She has her various ointments and such and these should be learned before one forgiven for not remembering the name of the cat who recently died while you were just dating and before the current nemesis of you attentions became a part of your beloved's life. The cat also should never be allowed in the bedroom while either lovemaking or body-care with creams are in progress. I was fortunate in this regard as she was basically allergic, though mildly, to cats and much annoyed by any interruption with claws as she was with toenails and with fur as she used these lotions and creams extensively on her allergy, sunburn, and of course, scratch sensitive skin. (We spent many loving days repairing the damage done by the holday pine tree which she insisted had to be put up no matter the scratches or pine resin allergy.) So, again, the scratches began at her ankles and instep and because of certain prior contortion even occurred high up on her well-curved haunches and derriere. The fulfillment of my first real test as the sensitive man she would keep around is evidenced by the Xmas tree story aforementioned and the fact that said tree did not come down until late the following spring. I worked a bit harder at my self-employment as a taxi-driver to gather and present the finest ointments to alleviate any and all affronts and injuries to these magnifecent legs and was often invited to soothe and provide only such succor after the relationship ended the following Independence Day Summer.