ROOM 254 - a memory during a stay in the ER

                    As  some of my readers of this non-fiction or at times straight-up-bullshit blog may know, I've been writing short stories after being diagnosed with cancer (the big 'C', as I recall, the usual marks I received in high school many years ago). Actually, my condition now is probably a C-, closer to a D. Unfortunately my eyesight has declined to the point where writing and even simply reading has become somewhat of a chore - I have to really magnify the words and although they are readable, they're still very blurry. I did go momentarily blind for about 20 minutes and I can say stepping out of the studio, hands outstretched in front of me as I  struggled to feel the side of the house on a cold November night, was more than a bit scary. If I hadn't of made it, my poor wife would have found me frozen stiff as an over-sized carrot lying face down on the ice. 

          During recovery time, much of it lying in bed enjoying various degrees of pain - well not really enjoying, more like reassuring me I was still among the living - I wrote several short stories, which will soon be published with some other ones. Anyone wishing to pre-purchase A Sure Thing and 6 Other Short Stories, it will be for sale very shortly for $15. plus shipping. 

          I know this might sound stupid but does anyone actually read anymore or are they all twiddling their thumbs on their phones these days, hoping they can enter the Olympics first ever strongest thumb event? Anyway, whether or not someone actually buys one of my books, of which I've written several, is not the reason I write stories. The main reason is that I'm hoping one of my stories will be made into an Oscar award winning movie, starring the most handsome actor and the most beautiful actress and I, of course will write the screen play and will become utterly famous and utterly rich, money will fall from the heavens like rain. And oh yes, mustn't forget the young, gorgeous and vivacious starlets, their incredible bodies falling into this old man's lap. All kidding aside, I enjoy bringing my mostly fictional characters to life (some of them nice and some of them at times evil) - what can I say - I often live in my own imaginative world - actually, sometimes better than the real one. My books are currently listed in our Trip 'n Daisy Etsy shop or you can email me directly to pre-order this new book.

          My non-fiction stories are occasionally inspired by something someone may have told me or like ROOM 254, this short story came to me while I was in ER at the hospital. I heard a real elderly woman sobbing just a few beds away from me and saying that she was all alone - most likely at her age, most of her immediate family had passed on. Being almost 78, not too far behind that old lady's age, touched this old guy's heart strings, the result being a somewhat emotional story - possibly even a love story, when two totally different strangers meet at the very ending of their lives.

          And speaking of loneliness, because of our business or forgetfulness, we should all try to make an effort to visit someone who is alone for long extended periods of time. Like that old lady in the hospital, you can't imagine how much she brightened up when a total stranger or a nurse took a little time to just talk to her - a smile and a few words is often all it takes to brighten up a lonely person...cheers, eh!

          

           

A SURE THING...

          A few people have told me that they miss my blogs - one woman saying I had a way with words - which I thought was a very nice compliment. I pretty much stopped writing blogs when I had been diagnosed with cancer, getting on close to 2 years now because I didn't want to sound as if I was whining all the time.  Between the radiation and chemo, you might say the crap was literally kicked out of me. After the first operation, Dr. Knapp cutting me open, (supposed to be a 3 hr. operation turning into 8 hrs.) rearranged my guts and attached a plastic bag to my tummy. I thought it might come in handy as a little purse, you know, stuff coins into it, especially toonies, have no idea how many of those we spent at the hospital parking lot. Besides losing all my hair, I also lost 30 pounds, actually got blown over by a gust of wind when I stepped out of the truck one cold November day. Hard to believe, there I was laying on the sidewalk and the rain pouring down on me; I knew I needed a bath but I thought that was rather extreme. A couple of months ago, Dr. Singh- Ranger removed the ileostomy bag and then arranged all my guts in the correct places. I'm still trying to get everything inside me working properly, at least as well as I can; told me I'd have to find a new normal for me - and also said I'd never be the man I used to be - would take one to two years to build up my strength; I'm still unable to twist a cap off an orange juice bottle, I'm so fricking weak.  However, all that being said I still have an A-hole but I no longer have a rectum - doctor described it as a drain pipe. Once my body gets the urge and even sometimes doesn't get the urge, it just starts coming out - I could probably go in a shitting-contest and win a blue ribbon for pooping out the longest turd - they're sometimes 2' in length or longer. 

            Although I haven't been writing any blogs, I have been writing, which is difficult - seems I have cataracts and my vision has really deteriorated - everything is blurry. Nothing like a half-blind artist and writer - if my eyesight keeps worsening, I'll have to buy a monitor that uses braille in order to feel the little bumps on the screen. But hey, I'm supposedly cancer free at the moment, so that's a good thing and even if I hadn't had that dreaded disease, I might be in the same state anyway - damn near 78, which makes me an old worn out bastard just the same.

          I've written several short stories while I'm still recovering and expect will write more, even though I have enough short stories to self-publish another book. A Sure Thing is based on the ten years I worked and lived at the racetrack (Exhibition Park, Vancouver, BC) when I was a young man. The photo at the bottom is a racehorse named Rough Road and I'm holding onto him next to my dad. He owned and trained 'Ruffy' as we called him. He was a great horse, almost always brought home a paycheck when he ran. He was one of those horses that have you holding your breath and tightly clutching your form chart because he always came out of nowhere from behind. And when he started moving that's when you started yelling! The story isn't about Rough Road but although there is some truth in this tale, it is highly fictitious. 

          During my years at the racetrack (being similar to a carnival atmosphere) I met many interesting people and looked after a lot of racehorses, so I've been thinking of writing a book about my experiences there and titling it Horse Tails. Although I had a lot of fun and exciting times then, I also had some very sad times too. 

          My book, A Sure Thing and 6 Other Short Stories will soon be available. The price is $15. plus $5. for shipping if it has to be posted. If anyone is interested or would like to prepay for the book, please let me know because it will give me a good idea how many books I should order from the printers. This is the second book of short stories I've published, the first being The Confession and Other Short Stories, which is the same price.

           Since my wife Sarah was able to magnify the monitor, it feels good to be able to write again  - can't even read a book these days because the printing is too small and blurry. At least I don't feel as useless anymore. She calls me her "giant toddler" (with love and gentle humour) and in some respects that's just what I've become. I'm hoping I'll be able to paint again if I don't make it too realistic, so I'll be trying that before too long, especially since there are quite a few blank canvases on hand and painting has been such a big part of my life, basically earned a living as an artist.

          Because so many friends and relatives have been exceptionally good to us during my cancer ordeal and are still continuing to do so, I'd really like to take this time to give them my heartfelt appreciation. To go through something like I'm going through would be terrible if I was totally alone, which some people are. I've always been an independent sort and to suddenly find myself unable to do very much and at times unable to do anything, to have help from others is something I don't take lightly and if able, would do the same for them.  

          My wife and I have an Etsy store for some of our other crafty endeavours. She makes beautiful rugs (upcycled-clothing) and I've been making jewelry made from dough (if you're starving and like lots of salt, simply scrape the paint and clear finish off and eat them) - cheers, eh.  

          

  

RINGING EARS, BLURRY EYES AND TREMBLING HANDS - OLD AGE IS FUN

          Seems like quite a few people read this blog, so I wonder how many hear a ringing noise in their ears like I do. At first, when they began ringing, I thought perhaps I was picking up a radio or WiFi signal and later on, when the noise became louder, I thought I was intercepting an alien's star-ship signal - little green people on the backside of the moon trying to make contact (especially since I've been a little green lately and can light up a dark room).  I'm kind of glad that the ringing became louder because it drowns out the various voices in my head, except when they are having a heated argument. However, I now realize, much to my dismay, it's most likely an age thing. When I'm busy doing something, I don't notice the ringing as much; it's the quiet times, like lying in bed trying to fall asleep, reading a book or trying to concentrate on something that I'm doing. However, on a positive note, I tend to have selective hearing and when someone interferes with my thoughts, I just zone them out to left field or even beyond the bleachers and then just say, "Sorry, I didn't hear what you were saying."

           Besides the ringing in my ears, my eyesight is constantly blurry, which again is an age thing - because even wearing spectacles doesn't work any longer. Sometimes, it's as if the ringing in my ears compounded with my bad eyesight is like watching a Charlie Chaplin silent movie (something which is actually older than this old fart). I doubt that anyone wants to hear about my farting episodes but since I'm on the topic of farting; just before my operation and having a war with cancer, I used to blow the most melodious farts (didn't even have to eat a mess of beans); probably could have joined a symphony orchestra. Yes, the farts were that good, could almost blow them on cue. Now, whenever I happen to let one go, it's like puckering your lips and saying poof very quietly, not nearly as satisfying even though they sometimes make me giggle.

Wolf Bay - my last painting

               It's been a while since I put paint to canvas and I can't blame it on poor eyesight or being lifted out of my chair by an explosive fart. No, it's mostly due to my slightly trembling hands (not an old age factor, more because of the chemo treatments I was undergoing (so glad that has ended). I like to paint realistically and one slip of the brush loaded with paint could be disastrous, especially since my temper is somewhat light-triggered, ready to fire at any moment; I might just rip up the canvas rather than wipe off the paint and start again.  I also have a touch of chemo-brain (my mind short-circuiting once in a while) so if I was for instance mixing a purple (blue and red) I might wind up mixing orange (yellow and red) and that just wouldn't be appropriate. I may have to switch to abstracts rather than realistic paintings because if I'm a wee bit shaky or mix the wrong color, it just might add something positive to the painting, a happy mistake so to speak.

               So there you have it folks, probably more information than you would like to have read, loud ringing noises in my ears, soon to be hopefully farting frequently (melodious of course) shaky hands and did I mention shuffling along when walking? Yeah, I'm a wreck of an old man now but at age 77, am I really interested in leaping over bar stools in a single bound, zipping around on a motorcycle or giving the eye to some sweet woman? Well. bar stools and motorcycles are definitely  out of the question but women, no, not women, I have a sweet Daisy that I love very much...peace, eh - Trip

Time to blog some good news for a change...

Exercise - getting stronger!

          It's been a while since I wrote a blog but even though I'm still suffering from funny feeling finger tips (my toes feel even worse) and slight chemo-brain problems, (lose my train of thought and make a lot of typo errors) thought I'd give it a try today.

Celebrating the good news!

          I've had many visits to the hospital but the news concerning my cancer infected rectum, after all the test results, my surgeon told me yesterday that he had good news; (first time the doctor smiled during our visits) I'm happy to report I am cancer free and he'll able to put me back together, which means reconnecting my colon and sewing up my belly will soon be happening, possibly before Christmas or in the New Year. However, this doesn't mean I'll be out of the woods, I'm still as weak as a new born kitten. For instance, a few weeks ago, while I was in St. John for my last test, when I stepped out of the truck, a gust of wind blew me over and I found myself lying on my back on the wet sidewalk; rain pelting my face. Good thing the wind eased off or I may have kept going, tumbled down the street and landed in the St. John river. I wouldn't have made much of a splash because I most likely don't weigh much more than a good sized boulder.
          After hearing the doctor's good news, giving me a new leaf in life, as strange as it may seem when I walked out of his office, I still felt somewhat like a broken down old man shuffling down the hallways and then outside to the truck (nothing is an instant cure). It takes time to process the reality - since things were feeling so dire, and we were worried many of my symptoms were the result of more cancer. I am going to improve, but it is still a long road. Of course, the doctors have all told me that it will take a year or two to recover and not to lift anything weighing over 3 pounds, apparently lifting heavy objects can cause a hernia and I still have enough problems to overcome.
          Since I've had to endure quite a few extremely painful days over the past 7 months, and would have been happy to depart this Earth at times, my wife recently asked if I would do it all over again. To which I replied, "If it meant a cure was possible and I would have a decent quality of life, I would somewhat reluctantly, do it again." However, because of my age, if the doctor were to tell me it would only give me another year or two to live, at my age (77), I'd most likely decline. For me, there is a time to die and I've made arrangements that if something were to go terribly wrong with me health wise in the future, for instance a heart attack and I'm unconscious, I'm not to be resuscitated. The last thing I want is to lose the remainder of my mind, to be in a veggie state of existence for the remainder of my life. I have always been independent so, the thought of losing that, anymore than I already have, is not appealing to me at all.
      But for today, although I accept the future can change, I am happy to look forward to getting well and planning to hit the road in the Hippie Hangout with my beautiful Daisy in the Spring of 2019!
Cheers, eh?
Trip

TO ME, BEARS ARE WILD AND WONDERFUL CREATURES

             It was great to see a mama bear and her two cubs enjoying sniffing around in our back yard for moles and field mice, plus our apple tree is loaded with organic apples for them to munch on. I've been hobbling down to the apple tree occasionally and although the apples aren't quite ripe, I still enjoy that taste of sourness, which reminds me of when I was a boy raiding the neighbour's fruit trees so long ago. I thought about going down for an apple this morning but with a mama bear and her two inquisitive cubs hanging about for the past two days, I decided it was a bad and possibly a dangerous idea. I've had several close encounters with bears over the years but they all moved on about their business. It's that feeling of being in the wrong place at the wrong moment that always concerns me, which can happen at any time if one is not aware of their surroundings while wandering about in the forest..

             It's great to have a 50 acre back yard because we get to enjoy all sorts of wildlife besides the bears; foxes, raccoons, moose, porcupines, skunks and deer and of course those pesky squirrels are often seen, especially since we no longer have a dog. I'm of the belief, if you leave them alone, they'll leave me alone. I find it a bit shameful that the bears, deer and other wild animals are often baited instead of actually being hunted. Although I could have shot many a wild animal enjoying our apples, put venison and such on the table, especially when I can afford to fill the freezer with beef, pork and chicken, I really don't see the point in killing the forest creatures.

            I grew up in big cities made of concrete and glass, which were inundated with masses of people and vehicles of every kind and thought they were wonderful, however, I have to admit that I feel more at home living next door to Nature. There's a quietness that abounds and when the sun sets, the quietness is doubled and the multitude of stars to be seen are remarkable compared to a city-slicker's evening. For me, I feel a connection, the roots of my forefathers, especially my grandfather and grandmother, who homesteaded on the banks of the mighty Fraser River, after journeying by foot, stagecoach and wagon from North Carolina in the late 1800's.  They were basically farmers and I'm so glad they weren't racists or bigots filled with hatred like so many other southern Americans were and still are. When I was a young lad, I often went roaming through the forests on their homestead without even a trail to follow. And getting back to bears, I remember once as a boy, a trusty .22 in my hands coming across a small bog. When I saw the water dripping off some branches and leaves, I realized that I had disrupted a bear taking advantage of that muddy pool. I wasn't scared but I was certainly all ears and eyes until I arrived back at my grandfolk's two story log house that my grandfather had built with a team of horses and his two bare hands.  I don't feel akin to a bear but I do have respect for such a strong and intelligent animal that when it comes to family, has as much love and tolerance for their young ones as we do...peace, eh - Trip

SIDEWAYS

Managed to letter some more hearts and apply 
them to our Hippie Hangout, which will 
hopefully be on the road this time next year.

              I used to think I knew which direction I was travelling. I had a purpose and a straight road ahead, and then wham! Just like that, I'm skidding off the road and heading sideways towards a big tree. Everything is in slow motion at this point and as I start putting up my hands to possibly slow down the out of control skid or at least save me some broken limbs when my body slams into the tree, I can't help wondering about the outcome. Yup, I got schmucked up and although everything looked very bad at the time, it turned out that it wasn't quite as serious as I thought it would be. If anyone is confused about what I just wrote; no, I never had an accident; no skidding off the road and slamming into a tree; it's my health that went sideways.  It's not like my life hasn't gone sideways before and things didn't look too good at the time but when your health takes a big turn for the worse, that's when you realize how important it is to have really looked after yourself in your younger years. 

              Now, I didn't especially take my health too seriously when I was younger, more for granted than anything else, especially since I'd hardly ever been sick a day in my life or taken any pills; that is, until now. I certainly take a lot of pills these days, some of them very pretty, blue, green, orange and white but most of them taste quite bitter. I chug 'em back the way I used to chug my beer but as fast as I down them, I don't get the satisfaction of knocking back a cold glass of beer anymore - alcohol is strictly forbidden.
              I wound up in Emergency at the hospital a couple of weeks ago and while there I complained about the discomfort of my swollen balls, which had been going on since my operation May 7th.  Finally. the doctor on call in the Emergency took notice and told me I had an infection. But to be sure, he wanted to test my prostate. As I watched him eye up his longest finger, my whole body tightened up. As he began inspecting my hairy orifice, noticing I was not in favour of sticking his finger up my rear end he said, "I'll be very careful. I don't have to go in too far and it shouldn't hurt much."
              Yeah right, I thought,. I've had a lot of probing fingers up my bottom end and if my sphincter had be honed as sharp as a guillotine, I would have happily cut off his finger. He prescribed some pills, which he said would not show any results until about a month's time. After three weeks of swollen testicles, I have yet to seen any improvement.
              Due to toxicity, my chemo treatments have been postponed for several weeks; I tend to light up a dark room, an eerie green, when I enter. I feel pretty good at the moment, have even gained some of my body weight back. This will hopefully withstand the month and a half of remaining chemo treatments and then I can start healing until it's time for the next operation to put my guts back together and hopefully have my rectum working normal once again. Most of my hair has fallen out and I expect once the last three chemo treatments have ended, I will be as bald as an apple, perhaps even as red. I'm hoping that it will grow back but there are no guarantees, each person is different.
             The chemo treatments are extremely harsh and I almost quit having them because with each session, it took me longer to sort of bounce back, I was beginning to feel that another one would kill me. Thankfully, the doctor postponed them. It's all a waiting game and I hope I have the patience and endurance to withstand the last three treatments - keeping my fingers crossed - peace, eh - Trip 
                     

DID ANOTHER PENCIL CARICATURE AND AM ITCHING TO PICK UP THE BRUSHES ONCE AGAIN

Arek Caricature

         Since I sketched a caricature of Dr. Knapp, and enjoyed doing it so much, I thought I'd sketch somebody else. I should mention that both caricatures were drawn with an ordinary HB pencil and I let the smudges do their own thing with a little help from an eraser.  This caricature is of a well-known photographer Arek Saczuk, and I think he liked it according to his own words: "WOW. WOW, WOW!!! I was most certainly NOT expecting that...and I absolutely, totally love it !!!  THANK YOU! Your bang-on caricature went straight to my heart. It's so perfect...I have no idea how to thank you that very unexpected and VERY beloved gift." Arek lives in Vancouver, BC and has taken photos all over the world, including Antarctica and the Northwest Passage, where I have also been, the Northwest Passage that is; a couple of friends and mine, on quite possibly the smallest sailboat, Dove III, sailed the legendary Northwest Passage in 1995, the 6th vessel to ever do so.  Arek and I had been planning on doing a joint exhibition of our polar experiences, our sketches and photographs complementing each others endeavours this year when Sarah (Daisy) and I (Trip) had planned a road-trip across Canada pulling our "Hippie-Hangout". Fortunately, after all that's happened to me recently, Arek still likes the idea of our joint exhibition and we are planning for this venture in 2019. (No actual date as of yet for our show but possibly around next fall, shortly after the kids go back to school.) If you are interested in a caricature, I am offering them on Etsy.

             Most of the art I'll be displaying are the original pen and ink sketches that will be framed and can be seen in Arctic Odyssey, a book that I wrote and illustrated. Because the gallery, where Arek is the residential photographer, has an auditorium with a large screen, I may also be showing my DVD, Arctic Odyssey and give a little talk when the film concludes. In the poor physical state I find myself these days because of the harsh chemo treatments I receive every 2 weeks for 4 months, my hair is falling out as easily as dandruff these days, however, this up-coming joint venture has really perked me up. I may even do some large paintings of the higher latitudes, possibly keeping with the black and white motif of our show.

Painting Cleopatra

       A large easel I ordered just arrived the other day and Sarah will be moving some things around in the room next to my hospital bed so I can try and complete a 3'x5' acrylic painting of Cleopatra reclining on her silver and purple barge, which I started several years ago. Before leaving Nanaimo, BC to live in Fosterville, NB, I took quite a few photos of Ramona the Belly Dancer in her Cleopatra costume and she seems to be coming right along, still lots of work remaining before the painting is completely finished. When finished, it will be for sale like the other whimsical nautical paintings I did and if they don't sell, I'll be leaving them to my kids when my time finally comes to an end, something they will hopefully enjoy and when looking at them, occasionally think about their old dad. As much as I enjoy painting and other artistic creations, I find that once the last stroke of the brush is made and I'm cleaning the paint out of it, my so called love affair with the painting is over and I don't have much concern for it any more. Whether or not the painting sells, I don't really care but that doesn't mean that I'll give it away or sell it at a ridiculously low price. I've been very fortunate to have lived as long as I have and that I made a good living from my artistic talents ever since graduating from Art School over 50 years ago. Painting, sketching and occasionally sculpting to me is still a thrill and magical and I find, even at this age, I am still learning to hone my crafts...peace, eh! - Trip

 My wife Sarah and I started up an Etsy Store a little while ago and if you'd like to check out my paintings and other artistic creations that we both produce, just click on the link. At the moment, if you buy any item or items that add up to $50.00 or more BEFORE SHIPPING, you will receive as a bonus, my book Arctic Odyssey, worth $20.00 - makes a really fine gift for a sailor or a wanna-be sailor or just a dreamer like me.  If you are interested in a caricature of yourself or anyone else, I'll be listing it at our Etsy Store for $45.00 each.