I Don't Feel Like Dying Today

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Magenta

Senior Member
Jul 3, 2015
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#21
Since I was a seventh-grader. Should have. Life. You know?
Yes, I do know :) You seem like the type of person who is gifted in a multitude of areas, which lends itself well to your being able to succeed in any of many endeavors to which you set yourself. And perhaps your writing ability is best served now when drawing from the deep well of the life you have lived and how you experienced it and now relate it. You have so many wonderful stories to tell, with your wonderful perspective, turns of phrases, and sense of humor, and the time to tell them, not being engaged elsewhere, having less pressing demands that require your diligence during this time of reduced physical strength and healing. I suppose writers do do other things besides write, yet one often imagines such undertakings as being reclusive and incredibly time consuming. Have you submitted anything for publication? Short stories and essays. Slices of life. There is a richness, eloquence, and understanding in your style that could draw quite an audience should you want it, whether you seek monetary recompense or no. I savored the fleeting song references also. My daughter used to spend hours and hours and later wonder where the time went as she read through the offerings of fan fiction online. There are many such places where people share their writing, though I am not suggesting that, since your talent and skill is of a quality that could definitely command much attention and would surely merit monetary return.
 
Apr 17, 2020
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#22
Yes, I do know :) You seem like the type of person who is gifted in a multitude of areas, which lends itself well to your being able to succeed in any of many endeavors to which you set yourself. And perhaps your writing ability is best served now when drawing from the deep well of the life you have lived and how you experienced it and now relate it. You have so many wonderful stories to tell, with your wonderful perspective, turns of phrases, and sense of humor, and the time to tell them, not being engaged elsewhere, having less pressing demands that require your diligence during this time of reduced physical strength and healing. I suppose writers do do other things besides write, yet one often imagines such undertakings as being reclusive and incredibly time consuming. Have you submitted anything for publication? Short stories and essays. Slices of life. There is a richness, eloquence, and understanding in your style that could draw quite an audience should you want it, whether you seek monetary recompense or no. I savored the fleeting song references also. My daughter used to spend hours and hours and later wonder where the time went as she read through the offerings of fan fiction online. There are many such places where people share their writing, though I am not suggesting that, since your talent and skill is of a quality that could definitely command much attention and would surely merit monetary return.
Okay, you're my agent. :)

I was writing at a high college level as a seventh-grader, and it was one of the ways I had fun. I think mainly because I was always reading - sometimes a book-a-day, sometimes five - so grammar and style came to me intuitively.

I do have a small group of readers who say they enjoy reading my stuff, and while that is gratifying, I do it because I like to see the words upon the page, sometimes in unexpected combinations and delineating an idea, a story, or a feeling that did happen or could - better yet, happens in the mind in the right-now - with touches of humor, poignancy... something alive, tossed into the mix. On a good day.
 

Magenta

Senior Member
Jul 3, 2015
59,909
29,289
113
#23
Heh, thanks HW, but I do not have the chops or the hustle to be anybody's agent :giggle:

Five books a day? Oy! I had an electronic reader a few years back but eventually put it away because five books a week was too many for me. My daughter had loaded hundreds onto it, but they were so random... it is nice to discover a good book to be sure, and I can become wholly engrossed in the reading experience which is one of the reasons I like reading :D Escape, transcendence, full immersion and losing myself in a good way. But it is also true that I go through phases with it, reading overly much for a time and then nothing at all for a while :oops: Some of my favorite books I have read over and over again. That habit began quite young with me :unsure:

I get the sense that you start out with a fairly crystallized view of your story before you start writing? Of course with them being real life experiences you do know the beginning middle and end of the tale before you begin, and I suppose that gives you a solid framework within which to allow your creativity to flow as you skillfully bring each aspect of the experience into vivid detail.

I have been pondering the word prodigious. Without having officially delved any deeper into the meaning, I wonder if it is connected (as it seems to be) with productivity, and what, if any, connection there might be with prodigal. Prodigy seems a natural fit, too :)

Changing the subject here, but I have never heard of chemo being applied directly to anything before... is this a new technique, or am I just behind the times? I am also undergoing chemo right now, but it is pill form and generally well tolerated, as they say. I have found that to be mostly true, as the only side effect I really notice is tiredness that just suddenly slams me, and a tendency to sleep more, she says, as she sits typing at quarter to four in the morning LOLOLOLOLOLOL. Yeah, well, I sleep more but not necessarily better ;):D

Bye for now, HW, and God's blessings to you and Christine :)
 
Sep 13, 2018
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#24
I always love it when a Doctor tells me I have less than two years to live. The first time was about ten years ago, and the consensus among my family, friends and I was that he seems to have missed it by a bit. The Doctor gave me six months to live - I told him I wouldn't have him paid off by then, so he gave me another six months <rimshot> old joke.

Well, another Doctor told me three months ago that I likely had 18 months without treatment, and that with treatment they hoped to extend my life another four months for each treatment until treatment is pointless. To chemo I have gone, to chemo I have gone, hi-ho the derry-o, to chemo I have gone. And I get to go again May 11.

"That's odd, you don't look like you're dying."

"Thanks, I don't feel like it, either."

But all the high-tech imaging, and blood tests and statistics are on the Doc's side. And this one is smarter than the other Doc of ten years ago. It is ironic that about three years ago, I did feel like I was dying, had to spend a few days in hospital, and spent the following year in a wheelchair, too weak to stand unassisted.

Then I had a good day. Don't know why, but I felt a lot better. Told my wife to get a walker, stood and walked, weak and wobbly and balance bad (that was not new), but walked. In a week, I graduated to a cane. Now, I only use the cane outside, or to a Doctor appointment. I'm still weak and wobbly, but not as weak as then, though wobblediness continued.

Now, such things tend to affect one's prayers, and I resolved early on that I would not be a whiner - when I pray for myself, I keep it simple and intend to avoid typical responses, like bargaining. I remind myself often that I have nothing to offer that He needs. So I keep it brief, and spend more time praying for others.

"Father in heaven, your name is holy, your kingdom great, and may your will be done on Earth as in heaven. You know my illness, Lord, better than I do. I ask, Father, that you be merciful to me, a sinner. I'm only a man, and I don't know what to pray - so I leave it in your hands. I'd like to live longer, but if it is more merciful to go sooner, then I trust that if I do, that is you being merciful. Or if I live, that is you being merciful, for you are a forgiving God."

Then I pray for family, friends, and various issues. I fear He hears from us too often praying only for ourselves, frequently when we are in trouble. Only time some people pray, based on what I've seen. I have thanked Him many times for blessings He provides, but he's so liberal with them you can't hit every one, anyway. But I've also seen my share of trouble - some think more than my share. That's life, you're going to have trouble, we all have.

"Thank you, Lord, for all your blessings - for this sunny day, for my lack of pain, for this loving and loyal wife. For this home, for our food, for helping our garden grow, for everything we forget, Father. Mostly, thank you for Jesus, our Intercessor, in his Name I pray, amen."

Oh, it is late, and I am drowsy, and perhaps I've over-shared. But writing things down is how I process, well, just about everything. I'm reading Samuel I this week - aloud to my wife. She's asleep, but I'll spend a few minutes reading about Hannah, Eli, Hophni and Phinehas before sleep. I do love reading my bibles.

I'm also reading to her "In His Steps." Charles Sheldon, the author, IIRC? She's never read it and is really into the story.

Dang! they could make a movie ! Lol....
 
Apr 17, 2020
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#25
Heh, thanks HW, but I do not have the chops or the hustle to be anybody's agent :giggle:

Five books a day? Oy! I had an electronic reader a few years back but eventually put it away because five books a week was too many for me. My daughter had loaded hundreds onto it, but they were so random... it is nice to discover a good book to be sure, and I can become wholly engrossed in the reading experience which is one of the reasons I like reading :D Escape, transcendence, full immersion and losing myself in a good way. But it is also true that I go through phases with it, reading overly much for a time and then nothing at all for a while :oops: Some of my favorite books I have read over and over again. That habit began quite young with me :unsure:

I get the sense that you start out with a fairly crystallized view of your story before you start writing? Of course with them being real life experiences you do know the beginning middle and end of the tale before you begin, and I suppose that gives you a solid framework within which to allow your creativity to flow as you skillfully bring each aspect of the experience into vivid detail.

I have been pondering the word prodigious. Without having officially delved any deeper into the meaning, I wonder if it is connected (as it seems to be) with productivity, and what, if any, connection there might be with prodigal. Prodigy seems a natural fit, too :)

Changing the subject here, but I have never heard of chemo being applied directly to anything before... is this a new technique, or am I just behind the times? I am also undergoing chemo right now, but it is pill form and generally well tolerated, as they say. I have found that to be mostly true, as the only side effect I really notice is tiredness that just suddenly slams me, and a tendency to sleep more, she says, as she sits typing at quarter to four in the morning LOLOLOLOLOLOL. Yeah, well, I sleep more but not necessarily better ;):D

Bye for now, HW, and God's blessings to you and Christine :)
Thank you again for the kind words. I understand that liver cancer is the only type currently treatable in this way; a unique and elite disease, when only the best will do.

Yeah, prodigious means highly productive to me, until I write a sentence like, "He was prodigious in applying his laziness to any task at hand." Fun with words.

A child prodigy is able to produce an impressive amount of something at an early age - Mozart comes to mind, as he was writing music at an age where we weren't writing our ABCs yet.

Due to the prodigal son parable prodigal has picked up a negative connotation, but it is still sometimes used to mean bounteous, though such usage may be archaic or headed that way. That's my theory, but it seems likely enough since I just wrote it on the internet.
 
Apr 17, 2020
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#26
Awakened from a truncated nap yesterday afternoon by a bit of pain, I slowly arose from my power recliner, and abandoned my pursuit of a power nap. I stood for two or three seconds before I lost my balance and fell. Back into the recliner. Not an unusual occurrence, unfortunately, which is why I pause before attempting to walk away from soft landing areas, which reminds me of the Fourth of July 2017. Or was it 2016? 15? Time flies.

My good friend and back fence neighbor, Chad, was checking on me periodically while Christine had to attend a family event out of state, and was out of town for several days. I was home alone, unfit for the trip at that time. I was hoping he might show up just to drop off some bbq - or whatever Independence Day morsels of bread or bowls of gruel his customs dictated.

However, I didn't really expect him as he'd already stopped by two night previous, and neither he nor I felt a daily contact necessary, though Christine had been more specific about her expectations. So Chad and I would later be equally chastised for our lackadaisical concept of obedience. Regardless, at around ten-pea-em, I navigated back to the bedroom, sleepy.

Within five minutes of dropping off to sleep, came a rather loud knock at my backyard window, which Chad sometimes tapped upon late at night to find whether I were awake and willing to visit. So I got out of bed to go to the front door to let him in, but I'd forgotten I was such a clumsy oaf, and stepped quickly toward the hall just as my memory of poor balance and the floor rushed to greet me.

Luckily, an object broke my fall. Unfortunately, it was a full-length, free-standing maple-framed mirror, which splintered both glass and wood shards, shatter-scattering them profusely about the room. Took me almost five minutes to extricate myself from atop the dastardly furniture, during which Chad pounded on the window twice.

"Okay, Okay!" I shouted, "I'm coming as fast as I can! Just give me a couple minutes and I'll meet you at the door!"

Another two minutes to rise from the floor was much faster than the previous time I'd fallen, so either I'm getting stronger or adrenaline was fueling my cat-like movement and reflexes, I remember thinking at the time, which made me laugh. I was yet chuckling when Chad hit the front door with a loud knock, as I neared it.

"Okay! Okay, Chad!" and I snatched open the door. No one there. Just as I began to wonder if he'd somehow failed to hear me (not possible), an impressive flash appeared in the sky, followed by a delay of a few seconds, then the distant boom rattled the windows and doors. Oh, yeah, today is July Fourth. I'd answered the door for fireworks - talk about your senior moments... and I began laughing at myself.

I suddenly realized I was standing in water. Looked down. Hmmm... red water, then I detected a wet feeling on my left thumb, quickly and cleverly spotting the trail of blood flowing from multiple forearm cuts and lacerations to drip from my uncut thumb onto the new bamboo flooring. The rush to the door to let in skyrocket explosions struck me as extremely funny - well that was for laughing when my dim-eyed old grandmother bumped into a full-length mirror at Woolworth's in '64 and spent a full minute apologizing to herself. I laughed harder.

After checking myself more attentively, then ascertaining that stitches weren't mandatory (one cut could have gone either way), cleaning and binding wounds and cleaning blood off the floor... in other words more than two hours later I was happy to return to the comfort of my big, fat king-sized bed, worn out from all the effort Chad had cost me by not appearing that evening. Yeah, it was his fault, and I was telling on him. That's the ticket.

I'd almost fallen asleep when the phone rang.

"Hey, baby, it's me. We just came in from a dance at the Rec Center."

"Dance with any of your old boyfriends?"

"Just one."

"Just one dance? Just one boyfriend?"

"Just one ex-boyfriend."

"How long ago?"

"I don't know. Seventh grade?"

"So it's been quite a few months..."

"It was more than fifty years ago!"

"And fifty years is indeed quite a few months. Did you kiss him?"

"No! You know better than that."

"I meant in the seventh grade."

"Baby, I was such a dumb farm girl that I wouldn't have kissed him if I wanted to - which I didn't. I thought that might make me pregnant."

"That is extraordinary!"

"What is?"

"That a 14yo farm girl, raising some cattle and pigs and all the other animals you knew on a personal basis, then killed and ate like perfect strangers, hadn't figured out how sex worked. As a city boy, I had to get my sex education from a friend's dad's Playboy magazine, and I only ever killed a frog."

"Now, you eat meat, too! Somebody had to kill something."

"I have no problems with meat-eating, I believe in it. And I believe in somebody else doing the killing to make his living."

"City slicker, typical."

"Typical hick."
 
Apr 17, 2020
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#27
Had an extremely painful night - but feel fine now, I hasten to add. Tried to suffer alone, but after a few hours found myself in further need of nurse assistance than I could provide for myself. So had to awaken Christine (we are both retired RNs), who began scolding me rather sharply for not waking her sooner.

"Baby, could you leave off the remonstrances for now? It just doesn't sit well under the circumstances."

Well, I had awakened her at 0440 - I'd had no sleep, nor rest. Had made progress but also a huge mess, so her irritation was understandable. She set it aside, put on her nurse hat and we got to work - took a couple hours, after which I collapsed into bed and passed out. She, too, returned to bed for another hour's nap, while I arose at the crack of noon. With everything all better. Thank you, Lord. And Christine, too. And for her, too.

On my own, I'd have had to go to an ER, extending the horror for hours while waiting my turn, no doubt. Okay, horror is an overstatement - but not a gross one. Nevertheless, there was plenty grossitiveness in the mix.

My second-ever chemo treatment repeated the symptoms of the first, then. With one big difference - the first treatment pounded me for four days. Smaller tumor, less med is my guess (two-incher vs half-pea-sized). Again, thank the Lord, especially for providing this med that utterly destroyed that big one.

And here I am, sitting in the shade, drinking iced tea and watching the sun creep to it set with my wife and a couple of pleasant friends. Life is good.
 
Apr 17, 2020
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#28
correction: sun creep to its set


may use that in a poem sometime
 
Apr 17, 2020
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#30
I didn't quote the entire phrase, but did get the tense correct as written. Regardless, you are correct, I'd use whatever tense were appropriate for the occasion. Basic back works, too.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep into our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. -


- Shakespeare
 

stonesoffire

Poetic Member
Nov 24, 2013
10,665
1,829
113
#32
Am very glad you posted your writings here in this section, otherwise I might of missed them. And IMO, they fit here.

Your posts remind me of articles written in the Readers Digest. 😉💖
 

Mii

Well-known member
Mar 23, 2019
2,082
1,329
113
#33
So what do you dislike about my posts?
Feedback/critique can be useful to me.
Sometimes people won't tell you. I give a reason and prefer people do also myself. Feedback is definitely productive most times.

The way you wrote the last line, other than "it" instead of its is perfectly alright.

It's uncommon for people to say set instead of setting though and in my reading it's usually used in conjunction with the primary object (sunset/moonset) but in this case...creep toward its setting? Or creep toward the set...or even wane unto the set ;)


To be fair though, hardly anyone says they await the sun's zenith before venturing to sunbathe. I like more archaic wordings myself, though people seem to easily get confused, which is fair...it is uncommon.

Random, but I know how frustrating vague feedback without interaction can be.
 

stonesoffire

Poetic Member
Nov 24, 2013
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#34
My thought is possibly he used the dislike symbol as a dislike of what happened to you?

We can choose how we receive. 😉♥️

I‘m being scheduled soon for an open chest biopsy. So your stories are very meaningful for me.
 

Rosemaryx

Senior Member
May 3, 2017
3,754
4,119
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#35
My thought is possibly he used the dislike symbol as a dislike of what happened to you?

We can choose how we receive. 😉♥️

I‘m being scheduled soon for an open chest biopsy. So your stories are very meaningful for me.
Stones , I am praying for you right now...
...xox...
 
Apr 17, 2020
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#37
Thank you all for the clarifications and comments.

I had a pretty uncomfortable few weeks after the second chemo tx May 11, with today finally bringing relief, so I'm good. Hopefully, my next CT in a few weeks will be clear and I won't need another round soon, but that's another day's issue. Sufficient unto the day...
 

stonesoffire

Poetic Member
Nov 24, 2013
10,665
1,829
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#38
Psalms 92: 12-15

The uncompromisingly righteous shall flourish like the palm tree (be long lived, stately, upright, useful, and fruitful) they shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon (majestic, stable, durable, and incorruptible)

13Planted in the house of the Lord, they shall flourish in the courts of our God.

14 (growing in grace) they shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be full of sap (of spiritual vitality) and rich in the verdure (of trust, love, and contentment).

15 They are living memorials to show that the Lord is upright and faithful to His promises; He is my Rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.