I decided to ask myself a question, since my viewership is reluctant to do so. Perhaps it’s the very nature of the web. Don’t ask who people are as long as they are willing to give away information for free, does that sound ’bout right? Well, i’ll do everyone a favor and ask myself the question.
So who is the artist behind the curtains?
Ok, I give up as I am too tired to answer, but perhaps another time.
Outside of not having cancer, being healthy, and alive, I’ve had some pretty bad days as of late. I had a prospect tell me she didn’t want me to do her website because she felt I wasn’t experienced enough. Honestly, I have never had anyone tell me that I wasn’t experienced to do anything before. My computer blew up, forcing me to replace the damaged parts. And, believe it or not, my insurance check has yet to arrive. Yet something is very different. There’s a part of me that just want to be stressed out to the max, but another part of me, a larger percentage of me, is thankful of being alive. I suppose that this is what my near collision course with cancer was supposed to do. Nothing surmounts to the experience I had just endured. I am extremely grateful for friends, family, and coworkers as they helped guide me through this rough patch in my life. The problem was just so great, I couldn’t handle it alone. But for once, I find that these so called problems can be managed or solved through patience, determination, and fortitude.
I feel as if this is a new beginning. Tim, meet world. World, meet new Tim. By the way, I promise to blog in a more optimistic fashion. I had to blog what I was currently feeling as many other cancer patients who decided to blog, were true to themselves and helped me along the way. It is nice to know that people still feel things online. We lose that spiritual element in words.
I started writing about chance and life and all this other pillow talk that I really know nothing about, but actually I thought I would talk about something I know. The honest truth is that I am an acosmic pantheist. Every step I make in life has been predetermined by my own social construct of who I want to be. Think matrix, but without all the computers or CGI. It is the universe which propels me forward in life and the law of nature which keeps everything so damn entertaining. I guess I could believe in a god, but why bother. Why create a construct of a construct? In my mind, heaven, or what some call heaven, is where we are today. It is man’s inability to see it which perplexes me. How many heavens must men/women be able to create or envision before they are happy?
Chances are I might have cancer. Chances are I might die from it. I am also confronted with the chance that there may be no cancer at all. What worries me is why I have never thought of life being so fragile in the first place. I mean, I just gaze up at the stars every night when I come home and I see the universe at work. An infinite number of stars are dying and becoming born again. Some collapse unto themselves, others become a portion of the mass they use to be. In either case, each scenario is confronted by chance, or a simple roll of the die. If life for a star is so up in the air, then how could I have even thought that I was any different?
Yesterday was rough. Saw my father for the first time in twelve years. Poor guy couldn’t stop babbling about pain and wanting to go home. If he could only see himself, though. The severity of his situation would be enough for anyone to want to stay in bed. However, the fine staff at Carson Tahoe are confronted with two problems. A.). My fathers diagnosed condition of pancreatitis and B.) withdrawal. The two together make for a situation where my father needs the help, but at the same time can not as he is wanting to get out of his bed every hour or so wanting to go home. He will also fight the nurses to make this happen. All this transpired not five minutes of me walking in.
Yesterday I had also talked to my grandmother for the first time in twenty or so years. I found out that she has cancer and is dying. That followed up with a call from my aunt, of whom I had not talked to in years. It’s strange making contact with my family like this. Time has transpired to the point where the other side of my family had just become numb to it all. I don’t blame them. With the amount of family turmoil in my family, I suppose you have to pick and choose what burdens you wish to shoulder while trying to live a normal life.
Allergies in the area is what did me in. I got pretty sick around four. Could only see my father for about ten minutes when I new I had to get some form of medicine as I was not going to make it through the night. It was probably nerves more so than anything. Nerves and pollen, I might add.
This morning my father squeezed my hand, calling out my name.
The fact of the matter is that I am on my way to Carson City to see my father, of whom I have not seen in twelve years. What prompted me to make such a bold move? Well, my father is could be dying. Things are pretty bad as he is in ICU and is under constant supervision by nurses and staff who are trying to ward off impending kidney failure. It’s time like this when I feel like I must put matters in perspective, but I am none the less frustrated as I had plans to initiate friendly relations with my father this year. I am about to be married. My future wife deserves to see my father, mother, and the rest of my family no matter how dire the situation. Yet here I am. My hands are shaking and my mind wonders as I drift into an abyss of images and sounds from a past I have shelved for most of my adult life.
I wish to blog about my experience for others who are also putting off talking to their significant others, of whom they may not be on great terms with. Don’t put it off. I have lived with the decision of not knowing or contacting my father my entire life. He has been a cheat, con man, theif, gambler, and an alcoholic. I felt just in my thought process. But in these last 48 hours I have been overcome with emotions I just can not turn my back from. I need to see him for my peace of mind.
…and so I wait to board the airplane, hoping I can restore the dignity of a man I don’t even know.
Google Reader Feed