...the grey glimmer of dawn attempts to intrude.

Flattened. Like roadkill. Staring at the ceiling with a kaleidoscope of thoughts, dimming as I doze again, thankfully, morning will indeed come soon enough. My stomach groans, the bathroom beckons, it may be another false alarm. Enh... back to bed for a while perhaps - what time is it? 8:40 AM the room is grey in the stormy dawning light, day is slow to come, "give me 'til 9 anyway maybe then I'll think about coffee and light in my eyeballs!" I burrow into the blankets and peaceful darkness comes again.

Finally, a little more gently this time awareness returns to me. I take an anti-nausea pill. Yeah, it's lighter but not harsh, bathroom again. Feeling gutted like a halibut, I sit. A non-event. Literally nothing happens, ah- except a note from the tuba section. Someone had asked me how I was doing (and this came up again at the Drs. meeting later this afternoon) and I complained that even though I was trying to eat and keep my weight up that the constipation was killing me except when I would eat the plum soup I had made and used to pressure cook a roast... anyway, when that stuff hit the results were "epic," I said, "Wagnerian movements. http://youtu.be/7AlEvy0fJto With all necessary bombast." "Then the tubas and trombones come in," she (my personal witch-doctor) answered. "Next thing you know we'll be hearing from http://youtu.be/qW4C2h3lPac Tchaikovsky..." "Yes of course with the basses and the cannon." Oh if I didn't laugh I think I'd die. Almost even got the Dr. to laugh (sly smile), they try to be so serious. Well, I do appreciate a serious mind when you are talking medicine, but the human parts of how one feels, how one gets through the day, the night... the mornings when getting up probably doesn't matter, facing the afternoons where you might get something necessary done. What? Take a shower, dress, get some food, feel like eating it, see a friend, mail a document (oh that would be another story). Yes, Dr. I am in a safe place, there are people around to make sure I am still kicking. People are very important; family, friends, neighbors, even at times the unbidden kindness of strangers who have no reason to know how they have enhanced your life, like the sandwich maker at the local deli... she took extra care with my order, asked me if I wanted things that were not normally part of that recipe and took the time to give that special touch. I could feel the kindness emanating from her motions. I must say that it was an Awesome sandwich, one of the best ever.

I am happy to be in the superb care of the people (physicians, surgeons, nurses of all kinds, and other treatment technicians I can't name, pharmacists and appointment takers) who have taken part in my treatment. You are the best examples of western medicine and patient care.

By the way, they say the numbers from my blood-work are up, good, the way they like to see them... yes, get plenty of rest. I am certainly tired enough. I try to focus on the immediate things of the day, and then keep in touch with folks for emotional well-being. Sounds easy, huh? No, it is work of it's own kind, and the battle is being fought within my own veins, and in my bones, oh I feel that alright. The siege guns pounding all through the day and night, we must have taken another hill, I feel like roadkill. Flattened.