THE BRAIN FARTS CAUSED BY CANCERS EMOTIONAL WARFER

Well, mates, it is August 1st, 2019.

Original diagnosis on October 2nd, 2018 – 90 percent sure I would be deceased by the end of January 2019.

I did pass away and was revived twice in that period.

Once from a septicemia infection gone wild. Went into shock and system shut down. That did not bother me so much.

I have had similar deaths in years prior.

Read of said ‘DEATHS’  in my blog archives at http:// lighthousedannverner.wordpress.com or purchase my 4 book autobiography “Walk With Dann Collection” – “DAMAGED” – “BANE” – “BOON” – “UNKS – A CANADIAN COSMONSAUT” at http:// amazon.com/author/lighthouseverner

But, I am wandering off topic again.

Bad writing habit of an eccentric self made genre writer.

Since the discovery of these demonic diseases, my most treasured and loved family, my dearest friends, my pharmacist, doctor and just about every person who has a part in my life have suffered the agony of wanting to help and heal me. Yet, they are slapped with the reality of knowing that is far from possible.

This is one of the most tear-jerking, heartbreaking experiences I have ever had to deal with.

And I cannot, for I see their true feelings of love and pain and I want to heal them.

Yet, I am slapped with the reality of knowing that is far from possible.

Add onto this sadness the hurricane of emotions inside my mind. ….. can you spell “HELL”?

I have put everyone through Hell with my constant changing emotions.

Often changing hourly. A chaotic life for my family, friends and myself.

From sincere suicidal debates to “FRACK THIS, SIGN ME UP FOR HUMAN TRIALS“.

And I will not get into the far worse instances that I am too embarrassed to speak of in this chapter.

I will save that yoke of shame for another day.

There were sweet rewards brought forward by all of this.

I found out quickly who was a true friend and who were mere ‘homies’.

(As soon as my life got complicated and real, they run home. Never to be seen again. Yes, ‘homies’ defines them well.)

To me this is a small Blessing.

A needed one.

With what I have already have gone through and knowing that what lays in the future is ten fold more painful and a hundred times far frightening, well, last thing I need is falsehoods disguized as friendship.

I imagine only we who have cancer understand the horrors that play within the confines of our minds, our imaginations and our souls.

Personally, I am plagued with a collection of macabre short horror films playing repeatively over and over in my mind Tormenting me with visions and the physical feelings of surgical procedures done whilst fully conscious with no antiseptic.

A constant remainder of how pain and cancer go hand in hand.

Waking at 4am, soaked by night sweats, covered in mucus your sleeping body refused to swallow and crying like a baby because the pain has surpasssd the opiates capabilities to supress.

Crying ever so quietly to yourself.

Or so you think.

And then realizing your loved one is there, broken and their tears are running painfully down their cheeks.

Your guilt sets in. You believe it is your fault they are hurt. Yet, you know they hurt because their love for you is stronger than cancers grip.

What will happen once my system becomes so opiate intolerant that the pain becomes the alpha in this battle?

I can truly state that the pain will win.

In diseases such as this our heart and system become overwhelmed and become fallen prey to the demonic affliction.

Cancer doesn’t kill you. The damage it creates does. Usually via a massive coronary.

For the next two hours you cradle each other until exhaustion allows sleep.

And tears etch down your cheeks to pool above your heart. They burn a jagged path of love mixed with despair and in your heart you are glad they are there.

I go through this at a minimum of twice a night.

Although most nights I am alone to suffer in an unnecessary solitude.

Then I have my ritualistic day/nightmare of my throat and face being aflame and I jolt awake screaming from the pain.

The dream is imaginary – the pain is as real as real can be.

This is the pain that will end my life. It is relentless and cruel.

It is demonic in every definition of the word.

And I am struggling dearly not to give in and lose myself in the darkness. I am  LightHouse.

I am supposed to be a pillar of Light and Srength.

I still have a strong Light to shine.

It is being detained by the evils of pain fired uncontrolable emotional upheavels.

A war of wits.

I feel I am entering into the next step of fighting cancer.

I have done the “denial, self pity, suicidal, acceptance and anger” stages.

I am afraid what comes next. I hear a little voice reciting,
“Something evil this way comes”.

Now this has joined the carnival of torment that has taken residence within my mind.

To put this in layman terms. ….

The pain and mind games have turned this street tough man into an Empyrean Pool of Emotional Chaos.

It is far more severe than I can explain most days.

I am in a constant flux of debating suicide, going insane with a rubber duckie on my head and blowing bubbles out my nose to saying “frack it, put me in pallative care and order a casket.”

I pray that this next step will allow my loved ones the ease of their sorrow by stabilizing my inner turmoils.

I need a break from the ability to think logically. For logic tells me of Death.

With the life changing decisions I will soon make I think it best to have logic in the mix.

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