Friday, November 10, 2006

11.10.06 Daze and Continue, Dysphoria

Things continue, this series of most bizarre events that I don't doubt any more, nor do I stand in relation of denial to, but still these which I cannot help but wonder at, stupidly. How? Not so much, as: Still?

Franky Scale, 6. Where else can the scale go. Number wise. I can't go too low for fear that I'll instill fear (in you), also for fear that I'll run out of room when the numbers need to take a dive in order to more accurately reflect the overreality of what I'm going through. The range of too low(er) is for later. So, that is the daze. Not that "this can't be happening," but "jesus, this is still going on, and there does seem to be a progression to it."

More thought on this. I only wanted to pass on a few end of week words and give a number. Further, there is not much to report on my condition, other than that it continues. There have been many more questions of late about "how I'm doing" — supposedly this is becuase I've been trying the glyconutrients and people are curious to know whether things are better — but I still can't offer much new information. No marked improvements, nor significant changes to pass on. Except the biggest visible change which is the spots or the acne-like bumps I now have about my face and neck. That's a change? A positive one, who knows? It means that at least one of the new drugs in this chemotherapy regimin is having some effect, but what kind of effect?

Like so much life,...here come more truisms, it's simply of matter of wait and see. Live another day and see how it stacks up to the day before. For me, it feels like the series of days merely increases or continues and their nature as an unbroken string of more or less the same becomes an increasing or continued tedium. Dramatic change for the worse wouldn't solve the problem, of course, but some change . . . I wish I had something more for you.

For now, another Friday, another weekend, another . . . I'll be off to see a Beckett play this weekend — there I will see if I can't rekindle some of that good old existential angst I used to enjoy so much. What used to be such a crucial yet live-giving inconvenience now stands on a far horizon (if the horizon can stand behind one), a figure draped in nostalgia, a figure I'd like to say that is beckoning. But is it? Existential angst, who would have thought this could be missed? Who would have thought there could be so much comfort in a subject-constituting dis-ease or un-ease, in the constant waiting for a guy name Godot . . . who might not even be a guy for all we know?

Existential dysphoria, or gender dysphoria, or cogito dysphoria, or all of the above. What precisely am I getting at? Good question. Hopefully it will produce some angst in attemtps at the answering.

5 comments:

jen said...

just a quick "hello. minseo and i are now officially dodging flying coconuts!!!" i wish we could have seen you, but i will "see" you through your blog. just saying hello and be well./

tossing salads said...

i certainly dont have any idea of the meaning. it changes for me all the time. i guess at times for me its just changing directions. my new direction is i just got a new job. im a case manager in the infusion and palatative care clinics. whoa, huh? i got out of the hell hole (not the job but 2 certain people) that has been my life of late. their meanings were to treat each of us with total lack of respect and then do our jobs. its been quite difficult of late. but the good news is a differnt direction. same meaning for me. 'service' had a great dinner last night at 'the paris' for celebration and some friends want to take us out to celebrate somemore. fun, huh? hopefully youll find your meaning or maybe a different one this weekend. sorry about the going thru puberty again. not the most attractive but somethings doing somethin. enjoy and enjoy and enjoy all that you can. love you dearly.

Slarry said...

Dear Mr. Jones:

Who knew that one would ever be grateful for acne ??
Yet I am -- especially when it means the drugs are working.
And for existential angst -- it is not far away, maybe just hiding for a minute.
Hopefully seeing the play helped bring it back.

You offer plenty. More than plenty. More than anyone.

Ok, so now I need to know ...
Was Godot a “he” ??
How was the play ?? And what other plans do you have for your weekend. ??

Keep warm. Keep beating the odds-- you are good at that.
Something I am grateful for.
Love you brother. Sending all my strength and good vibes to you.

Yesterday I bought the COUNTING CROWS CD---
AUGUST AND EVERYTHING AFTER - which as you know contains
the song “Mr. Jones.”
Who knows where my original one went. ??

Slarry

spacely said...

hey spot lucky me :) I got to talk to you yesterday. That always makes my frankie scale go up. I wish you could have seen my son friday night. He sang a solo for 4000 people at the huntsman center and was on t.v. and he didn't even choke. What a trooper, I think he must take after his uncle spot. If it helps you, have a list ready for me for things I could help you take care of or get or buy or bring. Or even a massage or pedicure. You name it!!!!Love your butt and your cute puberty face!! Love crazy me

Slarry said...

Hey Mr. Monkey Man:
So, chemo today? Did you get any surprises in the mail ?? I hope so.
It is stormy here-- but not like the reports we are
hearing from Seattle. YIKES.
We have tons of massages and comforts awaiting you and Ms. K. If you need them sooner--- let me know and I'll bring them to the Emerald City.
Love you Scott. Miss you as well.
Are you wearing your wooly mammoth socks!!
They will keep you warm and protect you.
Nade and Steph say Hi.
Geeez. They probably love you also. : )
I hope the discomfort isn't as uncomfortable as last time. Seriously.
We are trying to learn how to make pho soup.
Big love to both of you.
Always--
Sheri