Showing posts with label lucky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lucky. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
MEMORIES SHARED
DISCLAIMER: Having been asked multiple time to tell stories from my life and giving the requests much thought, the old geezer has given in and provides a glimpse behind the veil. As with any life, it is the parts of, rather than the whole, that give the best understanding of should think. At least that is the belief of this old geezer. There are defining moments that allow folks to reference in trying to decide what to make of us. What will follow may be more than some will want to know, and they can stop reading. As to the dear reader who continues to read, what will follow will tell on a part of life lived that meant much to MOI and is believed to have shaped the course of his life. Having stated that, pray do not judge what you read until you get to the end and then decide if it gave a better understanding of MOI. Can ask for no more than that.
My dears, MOI sits at machine and quakes at the thought of revealing so much. However outgoing you may think MOI is, to be true, there is a most private person unknown to you. Right, MOI bangs out endless stories of life lived on road to the whole world and HE is 'private'. Bit of a dichotomy that and will leave it to you to sort it all out.
MOI is desperate to not come off as pompous and making every effort to qualify what will follow. Should think that this quote from 'Diary of A Nobody' does that nicely:
"Why should I not publish my diary? I have often seen reminiscences of people I have never even heard of, and I fail to see — because I do not happen to be a 'Somebody' — why my diary should not be interesting. George Grossmith
"Get on with it!" and so MOI shall.
It is convenient for many who have come upon MOI at this point in life to assume that his present visage is one that has always been one presented to the world. Old, fat and sinking into decrepitude. Hair much gone and eyes in need of glasses. No one knows better than MOI that what was once 'golden youth' has long since departed. Trust me my dears, there was a day that MOI was thought of as 'the cat's meow', quite a figure he cut, slim and handsome, even 'dashing'............. That was then and this is now, and the bath mirror tells daily what MOI looks like.
Many, many moons ago, long before the INTERNET, MOI met a chap that was to change his life forever. Did not know at the time, but it is surely how it turned out.
Now, MOI knows full well that for as many who are 'au fait' with, there will be many giving a read that have missed a few chapters here and will be clueless to some things about MOI. MOI is 'bent' as in not straight. 'Gay' if you prefer, although MOI has always been curious as to the popular use of the word to label followers of 'the love that dare not speak it's name'. To be sure, MOI has met many a 'unhappy' homosexual. Yes Virginia, MOI is a 'nancy boy', 'light in the loafers' and would never be thought of as a 'bit of rough'.........you get the picture..........
MOI was sitting at a luncheon counter in a city not unlike one now lived in, when the love of his life entered. Unknown to MOI, this young chap had seen MOI on many different occasions and was hellbent on making himself known to MOI. MOI was reading a book and trying to block out what was going on round and was not happy about being put upon by this chap. Had never paid any attention to in the past and was clueless as to why he would want to introduce self to(not really, but was trying to be coy).
'My name is John, and I have seen you around' he said. Not the most original of lines but it will have to do. He WAS easy on the eye and did have a pleasant manner, so MOI bought into the meet and agreed to go to see a film with. 'The trap was set' and MOI walked right into it. John agreed to see a foreign film(learned later he loathed sub-title films) and a good time was had by both. We agreed to meet again.
A chance meeting turned into a marathon of meeting over the following 7 days and at the end, John took to dinner and came right out with his purpose. Sitting cross from, he set a pair of keys on the table and said: 'I have decided that we are meant for each other and here are the keys to my home, you are to move in!' MOI had never had a real live-in relationship up to that point and was gobsmacked at how firm his belief was that MOI was THE one. To be true, MOI had taken a shine to John and it was not hard to buy into the offer. Kindred souls we were, or so MOI thought at the time, and that was to be more so as time went by.
Will not bore the dear reader with the mundane details of daily life between us. To be true, one does not remember these as clearly as the snapshots of a life shared that spring forward that become the high lights of. And there are so many of these to cling to.
What is remembered on this day are these:
First trip to Lake Tahoe. Driving through the snow in the mountains and chatting all the way. Checking in at the hotel(a rather grand one), taking silver dollars and placing into a massive fruit machine next to check-in, losing $5.00 with first pull and placing the next bet and pulling handle(they still had at that time) turning round and telling that we had just lost $10.00 and had not even made to room or got to eat yet. The massive machine started ringing loudly, with lights flashing. MOI had won the 'JACKPOT', all of the sultans had lined up and $5,000 was won. No fool was John and he quickly told MOI to take the cash and run. We canceled our rooms(they now were offered for FREE), collected winnings in CASH and got back into motor and were headed home. My dears, it had been a long drive there and tired as we had been, we not were quite giddy at having so much cash that we laughed and laughed all the way home. Tired was not even thought of.
Buying our first house. Wondering how we were going to pay the $286.46 mortgage. Tight we were with a quid, we were. There would be many homes to follow but one always remembers the first.
Doing a make-over on John's wardrobe. John was a 'trust fund' baby. Came from 'old money' and had never had to worry about the whole of life. Right odd how the truly rich never think of selves as 'wealthy'. John thought a perfect wardrobe could be had at JCPenney, right off the rack his clothes came and it showed. Out went the old and in came the 'designer look'. From shirts to trousers to under pants and shoes even, John was made over. To be true, John did not put up a fight and loved the 'new' look.
Walking through Macy's one afternoon and John spotting a 'Calvin Klein' leather jacket and wishing he could afford it. My dears, he could, just too bloody tight with cash to part with. MOI went back and bought it and John was gobsmacked at the extravagance. Mind, it soon became his most favourite jacket.
The many holidays taken together in Hawaii. Walking the beaches, dining well, staying at a posh hotel, planning on retiring there one day.
Taking John to his first play and having John take MOI to his first Bette Midler concert.
John standing up for MOI when the newspapers carried stories of the horrid businessman he was. Making money was not something folks thought kindly about, more so when it meant buying run down hotels in rough section of city and moving the old and the poor out. MOI never broke any laws, it was all perfectly legal, but MOI and his partners in business, were not 'social workers' and never gave a thought to the human cost of displacement. It was all about making money. Not nice to see self in the newspaper and called "Tarzan of the Tenderloin". Have a clever columnist write about and liken one to 'what the evil dentist in a film was to dentistry, is DeFrees to hotel industry'. Dark days but John never left side and brushed off the countless newspapers dropped on his desk to draw attention to the horrid creature he lived with. Not once.
Throwing a birthday bash and having all stay away due to the notoriety of MOI. ALL, my dears, personal friends and folks known in local government. John lighting the candles on cake and giving presents to MOI as he cried and cried.
Sitting here, so many memories come flooding back, it is hard to know which to tell. They come back out of order, some stronger than others, but they are quite vivid. It was a life lived, charmed to be sure but it came with a price.
Many sad partings as MOI went off to far away places to do business. Long periods apart in cities across the pond. Missed birthdays and holidays and daily events not shared. There were the telephone calls and the letters and cards. Many, many cards, with messages of longing sent and received. A collection of T-Shirts sent to John from every place visited.
Then came AIDS.
No one who was not there will ever know how horrid that period of time was in the beginning. Stories were told of a strange new illness that was striking down countless homosexual men. 'The Gay Plague' it was wrongly thought of. It got that due to so many homosexuals being among the first brought down by it. MOI read all on the subject he could find. MOI heard it was spread by sexual contact.
MOI had always been told by mates that he was a prude, that he was missing out on the greater ride to be ad by the 'sexual revolution' taking place. The 'candy store' was open for business and all one had to do was enter and feed on all of the delights to be had. Sample away, what is the harm and you might even like it. The problem with 'FREE LOVE' is that it is not entirely free. There has to be some guilt attached to all of that pleasure, and what about STD's. MOI missed the boat and all let him know.
When they came out with a test for risk to AIDS, MOI was one of the first to take. Dragged John with. At the time, the 'Lavender Elite' was not big on it, even suggested that it had no value and could be used to round up folks in the future. Nothing like spreading a few lies to scare folks. In the beginning, one was given the test and a number was handed to, all very private and without identity attached to. No one wanted anyone to know HIV status.
Together, John and MOI got the test, TOGETHER, and his number was exchange with mine so that we would know the true status of the other. A week passed, and the day of the results came. To be true, MOI had bought into the myth and felt that since he had been a life long homosexual, he would have a positive result. My number told John that MOI was negative, and John's number told MOI that he was positive.
The clock was ticking. MOI had done his homework and believe that it was 'infected' with and not 'exposed to' that was the true meaning of the test results. Many did not feel that way. No one wanted to believe that death was coming.
With the support of John, MOI set about trying to help in any way possible. If you think that writing letters to folks is something new, you should have seen in earlier times. MOI was pedantic. Sitting at dining room table, MOI wrote in long hand, one letter after another to any and all one could thing of to help with this growing plague. There were letters to the White House, Senators, Congressmen, health officials, hospitals, newspapers, television and folks known all over the country. Trips were made to Washington and other places to beg for help. Fundraisers were held in home. jumbos put together to raise even more cash. No stone was left upturned. Along the way, MOI lost mates, people one knew stopped come by the house. A congressman likened MOI to a zealot. Doors were slammed shut and telephone calls not returned.
Through it all was John.
When a costume was used to march in front of businesses that were not being morally responsible, John sat in vehicle and watched over. Helped wipe off the spit hurled at MOI. Drove to hospitals to deliver reading material. Picked up from homes of dying men, after a long night of Hospice care.
Throughout 1986, John had many health problems, it was clear that something was coming. Christmas 1986 was a blowout. Vans from every store like delivered present after present for John to have under the tree that year. It was a Christmas to remember.
Through all of the years together, we had never invited workmates of John to our home. We did that year, along with a collection of others special to us. MOI hired caterers, had so much food that tables groaned under the weight of it all. Bartenders mixed drinks. The front of the home had fake snow on the garden, and there were so many lights on the house one almost was blinded by them. Every single room had Christmas in it, and the tree that year never looked better.
Santa even came(with a little help from MOI) and had small presents for each and every one there. MOI gathered all round tree and had Christmas Carols sung, with the voice of MOI being the loudest. It truly was a night to remember.
Just after the holidays, the shoe long waited for, dropped. John was rushed to hospital with 'PCP' a definitive marker for full blown AIDS. John had gone from 'infected' to 'victim'.
My dears, MOI is not going to bore you with horrid details, that is not the point of this story. Quite sure that you know that it was not an easy time. What will be told is the story of how this dark hour turned MOI into what he is today.
John faced his illness with courage and humour. The man had CLASS, buckets of it.
He told the whole world of his illness. No easy thing to do at that time, there was much fear. John told all of his workmates and the company he had worked for all of his life. We told all we knew of his illness. He made a special effort to tell his closest mates.
We went about living, knowing full well that these days remaining were numbered.
Every time John was well enough to travel we boarded a plane and went to Hawaii. These trips gave John so much and there were times we stayed but a day or two, having to return due to his condition.
We planned his funeral, every detail of it. And there were some giggle had in doing that. Sitting at dining room table stuffing Mass cards into envelopes, John remarked how cruel MOI was having him glue his snap on and pass to MOI. He helped pick out the quote used on and even helped decide which music to play for mates at memorial service to be held. We did all of this together, side by side.
John was thrilled when President Ronald Reagan sent MOI a personal letter tell that he, the President and Nancy, were sorry to hear of his illness and that he was in their prayers.
He allowed the local newspaper take his picture along side MOI with a massive bottled water container filled with years of collected pennies, to be donated to an AIDS cause, the bottle had close to $400.00 in pennies.
On the last trip to Hawaii, MOI shared a walk on the beach with John. It was important to know if John felt happy, felt pleased with how life had gone between us. John told MOI that he had no regrets and was proud that MOI was not going to die in the same way. He also told that he felt that he had lived a life most excellent and much of that was due to being a part of MOI's journey. Felt that stories told of far off places visited by MOI made him feel as if he was on every trip taken. He loved all of the people he met through MOI. "Rob, who else do we know that has the Mayor of San Francisco ring up?" Bit of a snob my John was..........John told that he would always be with me and hoped that MOI would never forget how much he loved him.
They say that folks who are soon to die, hang on for special moments. John did that. He wanted to be alive for my 40th birthday. That was the one day he did not want to miss. John had arranged for flowers to be delivered and a massive balloon bouquet. There was also a small box given to MOI. It contained the antique silver ring with stone that MOI wears to this day.
On the day John died, MOI was there. Sitting by his side, holding his hand, MOI watched him depart this life. There was no struggle to hold on, John was a peace and his face showed it.
Many years have passed since John died. MOI has grown old, wiser even. John has never been far from his mind, he is with each and every day, would have it no other way. The many gifts received from John have never been forgot, or the lesson learned from him.
My dears, my life has a few defining moments, but the time blessed to have shared with John is the strongest example of how MOI grew as a person. John taught MOI that money is not the end all in life. There is no coffin built that allows you to shovel it into along with the things one collects. We enter this world with nothing and we leave with nothing. John taught MOI to give to others, to try and treat each and every person met with honour. John taught MOI to believe in self, to fight for that was right, even if others did not agree with. To be true to one's self. John taught MOI to love GOD, and to follow his faith. John made MOI promise to LIVE, to get over grief and go about building a life without him. There was so very much John gave and one wonders if he truly knew how MOI felt of him.
To my mind, John was the best of people. He never harmed anyone, tried to not think ill of anyone, and forgave everyone. Some might be tempted to feel that John wore rose-coloured- glasses. Trust me John knew, he just wanted not going to let the dirt in life land on him. On a visit to the home of one of his closest mates, MOI had to use the loo, and MOI being MOI, opened the medicine cabinet to peek inside. There on the shelf were bottles of medicine folks took to fight AIDS. MOI told John of this. John got very quiet, and his face showed the pain he felt at hearing this news. This person was the closest friend to and John had thought that they were so close that they would share everything with each other. John was gutted. We never went to visit this person again, and John refused all calls from, so hurt was he that his very best friend did not feel comfy enough to tell that they both were in the same boat. John could have used that support. Hurt as John was, he made MOI promise that if this person came to his memorial service, he would have a place of honour and MOI was to tell him that John loved him and was waiting to meet again.
John gave MOI the courage to keep going. There were a few mis-steps but in the end, firm footing was found and MOI lives on. There is not a day that MOI looks to memory of John and hopes that he continues to be proud of MOI. John made MOI a better person for having known him and in no small measure is John responsible for leading to the light and never, ever, losing sight of what is truly important.
In a diary kept from those days, MOI found this item he wrote:
...............have no idea what to do, everything has turned to shit. What about ME!!!!! Who is going to be there for me............it hurts so bad that I just want to die....get it over with.........there is no point............fuck you, John............you left me like everybody else........
Loss made MOI mad, grief was so much to bear. Poor MOI! Funny, however hateful that entry was, none of it was true. Time has healed MOI and he has come to see that John had it right all along. MOI will never be alone.
Folks who asked MOI to peel back the onion may well rue having made the request. Does MOI care if folks get a different view of MOI? Only to the degree that it might allow folks see how MOI came to be MOI. Coming to the end of the post, MOI is pleased to have shared John with you..............think he would be pleased as well.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
'je ne sais quoi'
My dears, you will have to bear with this old geezer and his re-use of old snaps to flavour posts. I am still without a private machine and have not downloaded the newer snaps taken this past months.
Of late me life has taken on a certain je ne sais quoi flavour and of the mind that it suits this old geezer rather well. It would be a bit hard to define clearly the many events and folks that have played a role in my recent travels. Travels that seem to never end, not so much the physical but of the mind and soul. How is that for profound?
Recently met a fellow papist from Minnesota. One tends to think most that live there as followers of Luther. This chap is quite worldly and upon first meeting one would not credit with having an active involvement with the church. It is always a pleasure to meet up with one who is quite happy to acknowledge his love of God and his church. Not the flag waving sort of faith, more a quiet and sure feel for what he believes and practices on a daily basis. In these hard times, what with so much negative press directed at the church, it is still a wonder that many do not give up on Holy Mother Church.
In a recent email exchange, the chap wondered why this old geezer was not a priest, or at least a deacon in the church. It got me to wonder and thought I would explain self to him and to other readers who have wondered about this old geezer and his continued love of the church.
Avid readers of me blog will no doubt be 'au fait' with the abuse suffered by this old geezer in childhood. That abuse was at the hands of priests and religious who were evil men poising as.
They say that the abused child can foster feelings toward the abuser. That must have been my case when I contemplated entering the priesthood. The thoughts did not last long, and truth be told, never truly thought meself as having a 'calling'.
Recent stories in the newspapers have highlighted the troubles in Archdiocese of Philadelphia. The Archbishop has taken action, after the Grand Jury pushed him up against the wall. It would seem that every effort is being made by the Archbishop to deal with charges against priests with every consideration for the rights of the priests named at fault. More's the pity that the same consideration was not shown to the countless abused children.
I will tell true, it took many years to forgive my church and God for what had been done to me as a child. Much was lost by the abuse, the least of which was the innocence of childhood.
That was then, this is now.
I still have flashbacks every time a story comes out with the headline "Philadelphia Paedophile Priests".
Getting back to the comments from the lovely chap met recently. One does not tell all to a new 'friend', it was enough to share thoughts on the state of the church we both loved. There was no way he could have known that his comments would get me to look more closely at the question.
I am not a perfect person. I try to be the best I can be and to treat all met with kindness. If my 'je ne sais quoi' led the chap to think me more holy than am, I am flattered. Mind, I rather think that the chap met has a good idea of who he is and what matters most. Rather brilliant that...
Of late me life has taken on a certain je ne sais quoi flavour and of the mind that it suits this old geezer rather well. It would be a bit hard to define clearly the many events and folks that have played a role in my recent travels. Travels that seem to never end, not so much the physical but of the mind and soul. How is that for profound?
Recently met a fellow papist from Minnesota. One tends to think most that live there as followers of Luther. This chap is quite worldly and upon first meeting one would not credit with having an active involvement with the church. It is always a pleasure to meet up with one who is quite happy to acknowledge his love of God and his church. Not the flag waving sort of faith, more a quiet and sure feel for what he believes and practices on a daily basis. In these hard times, what with so much negative press directed at the church, it is still a wonder that many do not give up on Holy Mother Church.
In a recent email exchange, the chap wondered why this old geezer was not a priest, or at least a deacon in the church. It got me to wonder and thought I would explain self to him and to other readers who have wondered about this old geezer and his continued love of the church.
Avid readers of me blog will no doubt be 'au fait' with the abuse suffered by this old geezer in childhood. That abuse was at the hands of priests and religious who were evil men poising as.
They say that the abused child can foster feelings toward the abuser. That must have been my case when I contemplated entering the priesthood. The thoughts did not last long, and truth be told, never truly thought meself as having a 'calling'.
Recent stories in the newspapers have highlighted the troubles in Archdiocese of Philadelphia. The Archbishop has taken action, after the Grand Jury pushed him up against the wall. It would seem that every effort is being made by the Archbishop to deal with charges against priests with every consideration for the rights of the priests named at fault. More's the pity that the same consideration was not shown to the countless abused children.
I will tell true, it took many years to forgive my church and God for what had been done to me as a child. Much was lost by the abuse, the least of which was the innocence of childhood.
That was then, this is now.
I still have flashbacks every time a story comes out with the headline "Philadelphia Paedophile Priests".
Getting back to the comments from the lovely chap met recently. One does not tell all to a new 'friend', it was enough to share thoughts on the state of the church we both loved. There was no way he could have known that his comments would get me to look more closely at the question.
I am not a perfect person. I try to be the best I can be and to treat all met with kindness. If my 'je ne sais quoi' led the chap to think me more holy than am, I am flattered. Mind, I rather think that the chap met has a good idea of who he is and what matters most. Rather brilliant that...
Saturday, August 20, 2011
DUNSMUIR SOLITUDE
| Robert De Frees - Roughing It |
My shower is COLD, tempered only by my boiling water to splash on when the ice starts to form on head. One learns rather quickly to not keep too long bathing. One must tell true that it does get the motor running, straight for the kettle and a cuppa of hot tea.
Mind, the sofa makes out into a most comfy bed and a good night's sleep is had. Removing the hearing device all but guarantees that the whistle of the arriving trains into Dunsmuir will not be heard, or anything else.
My solitude is not a burden, have always been able to entertain me self and there are books to read and NPR on the small radio. This old geezer has had much to contemplate. Like where he might land when The Big Kahuna returns and starts to tear up the cottage further. Daily walks have of yet revealed no diggs that would suit and am beginning to wonder of my travels will take me east and Broadway...
The folks in Dunsmuir are grand, there is no complaint there. You, who follow me adventures,are 'au fait' with me lame leg. While greatly improved, it still can carry but so far before it lets me know that it can not bring me back if I continue. Most of the spots found are out of town and with no vehicle, it it too great of a problem to overcome. There was on place, a 4 floor walk-up and that simple is not possible. One keeps looking, but the prospects are not too bright. I have no desire to live in Mt. Shasta or Weed, as public transport is limited and winter will come sooner than later.
Many have sent emails to wondering why the flow of posts has slowed. Partly due to library being open a limited number of days and hours. Partly due to the old geezer not knowing what to impart without coming off as whining. I do try to keep all happy and am ever so honoured that so many keep peeking and catching up on posts they might have missed in the past.
To sum up,I am completely clueless as to how this adventure will turn out OR where I may wind up next.
The Big Kahuna is of the opinion that the old geezer just likes to keep adding miles to his trainers and can not stay in one place too long. Fancy that...
Friday, July 22, 2011
JAMES RUNS TIGHT SHIP
"You never know someone until you live with them", old adage that applies here.
Each and every new soul coming into the Somerset Apartments is a neighbour.
Or so, James, my mate who runs a troubled complex believes.
A neighbour one is going to have to deal with and sort out if the promise of 'good' is not realized. Risk? Is there any kind of life without risk?
Were it a perfect world, brilliant folks near, would be beating down the door to live here. They are not. Were it a perfect world, all who wanted flats here would make buckets of cash and go to work every day. All do not. Perfection would be to not see folks so down on luck. for whatever reason. Economy has forced many to down-size living, making the flats at the Somerset Apartments the only place to go. Folks on benefits, with limited incomes, have few options. The Complex is not a perfect world, just a complex seeking to be more brilliant and attract tenants who will add to the brilliance to come.
Having vetted all, James is of opinion that new tenants will add to the mix nicely here. Mind, James is not GOD and there is always the possibility that lies have been told to. There may be problems. One has to have faith.
What James knows is this. All of the folks moving have been told what is expected of. Rules have been explained to in great detail. Flats have been made as good as possible, knowing that more might have been done, but realizing that price limits the benefits one can add to a unit. Nothing is broke, and every effort has been made to right all wrongs in units. No lies have been told and no false promises made.
What passed as acceptable in past, no longer flies here. Tenants are given every opportunity to enjoy flats in comfort, knowing that repairs will be made if needed. Make do with horrid is no longer an option. Folks who want more out of life than drugs and cheating the system are the goal. The landlord does care and management listens.
James will always remember being told by management of past; "You must allow poor folks grace, give special treatment to, they have nothing and are owed that." Rubbish. Am not scraping the bottom of the barrel anymore, am determined to siphon off the Crème de la Crème of poor but honourable folks looking to live in a safe, clean environment. Bravo James...
Or so, James, my mate who runs a troubled complex believes.
A neighbour one is going to have to deal with and sort out if the promise of 'good' is not realized. Risk? Is there any kind of life without risk?
Were it a perfect world, brilliant folks near, would be beating down the door to live here. They are not. Were it a perfect world, all who wanted flats here would make buckets of cash and go to work every day. All do not. Perfection would be to not see folks so down on luck. for whatever reason. Economy has forced many to down-size living, making the flats at the Somerset Apartments the only place to go. Folks on benefits, with limited incomes, have few options. The Complex is not a perfect world, just a complex seeking to be more brilliant and attract tenants who will add to the brilliance to come.
Having vetted all, James is of opinion that new tenants will add to the mix nicely here. Mind, James is not GOD and there is always the possibility that lies have been told to. There may be problems. One has to have faith.
What James knows is this. All of the folks moving have been told what is expected of. Rules have been explained to in great detail. Flats have been made as good as possible, knowing that more might have been done, but realizing that price limits the benefits one can add to a unit. Nothing is broke, and every effort has been made to right all wrongs in units. No lies have been told and no false promises made.
What passed as acceptable in past, no longer flies here. Tenants are given every opportunity to enjoy flats in comfort, knowing that repairs will be made if needed. Make do with horrid is no longer an option. Folks who want more out of life than drugs and cheating the system are the goal. The landlord does care and management listens.
James will always remember being told by management of past; "You must allow poor folks grace, give special treatment to, they have nothing and are owed that." Rubbish. Am not scraping the bottom of the barrel anymore, am determined to siphon off the Crème de la Crème of poor but honourable folks looking to live in a safe, clean environment. Bravo James...
Monday, June 6, 2011
IS THAT ALL THERE IS?
What better use of the above classic anthem of disillusionment than the following post.
Without being too weepy, the old geezer feels the need to share some things with me readers.
Of late me diary is looking more and more like an advert for the NHS. Entry after entry of visits scheduled to doctor's office. Films to be taken of failing bones and new films of problems in ears.
Bad enough that the lame leg is on the mend, last thing needed was a major problem with ears.
An eruption in ear caused yet another visit to doctor. Seems that the loss of hearing is moving rather rapid. I have been told that I have Cholesteatoma.
Cholesteatoma is a destructive and expanding growth in the middle ear and. It is what has destroyed my hearing and may well bring about total hearing loss.
Fortunately, this old geezer has most excellent doctor, and that doctor is going to try to salvage what is left. This will be done with an operation. It will not give back what is lost, just keep what little is left going.
However tiring all of the doctor's visit have been and however vexing the health problems, one must hold onto what is most important. I am not dead, not likely to die any time soon. I have discovered the importance of support of friends in time of need.
Visits to chemists have been done, loads of chauffeuring to doctor's office, bucking up of spirit, drops applied to ears and so many other acts of kindness. One must be blessed to have so many be so kind to.
This old geezer has had a few knocks of late, to be sure. Truth be told, have we not all at some point? The real gift of illness is that is allows one to appreciate all of the good one is given. With luck, the good is more that the bad.
Is that all there is? For the time being, yes...
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