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dreaming

Shingles

There is no other title I can give to today’s post. I am in my early fifties, and I have the Zoster Virus, which gives us Shingles. I knew I was at risk; I had Chicken Pox as a kid, the Virus lays dormant, I think at the base of the spine, waiting until it can find the most inconvenient time to emerge. It’s a virus which attacks the nervous system, so the pain is a real deep, nerve pain. The lovely part of it is the awesome rash which appears; It can show up on your torso or your face, usually only on one side, or the other. Mine is on my left torso, down to my hip and butt.

Pain, we’re no stranger to pain down here at The Rusty Prose. The pain is intense, exquisite and all encompassing. Yes, Shingles is inclusive, pain everywhere for everybody. I can’t get comfortable; I can’t sit, I can’t lay down, I can’t stand, and I manage to sleep in chunks of time. I have nerve blockers, which are different than opioids, but they have side effects, for me, I am now flat out tired all the time. I am used to having an underlying fatigue and constant discomfort from my Cancer ordeal, but this is a horse of another colour, a different animal all together. Pain, oh pain. Odes have been written about pain, I think I have another blog post devoted to it, either posted or in a rough draft somewhere.

I’m having a hard time focusing on my tasks at hand, such as writing, blogging, and general upkeep around the place. I am on social media; I think some of my posts were misleading, and some people misunderstood some things I posted or my intent and so some drama ensued, not at all how I like to roll. But, such is life. I had to go about town yesterday for a Dr. Appointment then do a blood test; later I was talking to someone in the parking lot and soon I realized I was almost incoherent. Not quite but getting close to it. This is not a good place to be, unable to focus, unable to communicate properly and besmirching my own reputation online all because my health and my meds have me distracted.

I’ve been off work for one week and today is the first day I’ve had to myself, I don’t need to leave the house so I am devoting some time to my ignored blog. So sorry bloggy woggy, I’ve been neglecting you. I did a thirty day blog challenge which ended two weeks ago, then I took an intentional few days off, was about to get back into it when I got the Shingles. I think it comes on for a week or two before the virus starts to do the nasty on your nervous system; I was noticing something was not quite right, but I was so focus on my thirty day blog challenge that I though I was just over working myself.

I think I have a couple more weeks of this, but now that I’m home, and I am getting used to the pain et al, it’s time to put my focus back to my blog, and to my writing in general. As well as maybe get some housework done and get started or at least prep for a new hobby. I posted something earlier about how writing was a hobby, but now that I am aiming to make writing my side hustle I need a hobby, so I’m looking into model rail. Bu first and foremost, I really need to focus on my health and well being.

Like that old saying goes, if you don’t have your health…

One Lost haiku

I wrote a Haiku this morning, I wrote it on my phone then posted it on Twitter, and yet there is no trace of it on my phone or in my Twitter feed.

I am also working on an actual blog; I know this poor blog of mine has been neglected as of late, but we are back in the saddle, out here at The Rusty Prose.

Here, for a moment,
Eroded from memory;
Ice crystals, or love.

An Early Spring Haiku

The green grass rises,
a tree leaf unfurls itself;
an egg is hatched.

A Drop of Haiku

A drop of water,
captures our reflection;
the pond fills with rain.

An Early Morning Haiku, For You

Darkness soon founders,
to the silent rising light;
the sound of one bird.

Another Haiku

Ever so silent,
To stand alone in the trees;
One single heartbeat.

One Lone Haiku

In one warm tear drop,
Can exist, an entire
Reason for living.

Ensconced in Nature

I am renting a small cabin, situated on a large property which borders two lakes, I can’t see the lakes from my cabin, but once I get out onto the property itself, I get a partial view of one of the lakes. My little cabin is plonked in the centre of a large stand of cedar and fir trees. It is rather bucolic, however, like a lot of things in life, there are two side to every coin. I like to see it as three sides to every coin, there are good, bad, and ugly, in most things. It is gorgeous, but I don’t own it and so I am at the whim of a stubborn, money hungry, land lady who, in turns can be nice, then be very not so nice to be around.

I have families of deer surrounding me, in my little cabin, I watch them graze their way around the woods, mostly I see two, or three females and two, or more offspring. They tend to have twins. The bucks show up once in a while but I mostly see the does and fawns on their own. One fine morning, as I was heading out for my nature walk along the lake side trail, I walked upon a group. They stood and watched me approach, but didn’t bound off as is their usual wont to do. They stood and let me walk into the group, I kept my eyes lowered, slowed my walk and tried to be as quiet as possible, I stopped for a second or a brief moment to absorb my situation. I was surrounded by a group of deer.

Don’t try this at home folks, they are a wild animal, they’re a whole lot stronger than I, and I am lucky I didn’t get attacked. Lucky indeed, but it was quite the exhilarating experience for us out here at The Rusty Prose.

The same goes for wild rabbits, I live in bunny central. Eastern cotton tail, these ones are called, and there are a lot of them. These are wild, not at all the store bought bunnies for Easter which then get released into the wild to fend for themselves after they’ve developed a taste for fresh lettuce and carrots. These wild ones have a different diet, so they’re not after a the farmers gardens, they tend to graze around my cabin much the same as the deer.

Birds, the birds. Many different types, although I’m sure the bird population, as a whole, isn’t what it used to be, but I am blessed with a having so many different types; I have Raptors, song birds, water fowl, mourning doves, Stellar’s Jays, woodpeckers, ravens, crows and hummingbirds. I don’t have any feeders out, they don’t seem to need any, even my hummingbirds hang around without a feeder. At night I get the eagles chittering away to themselves, I have screech owls letting their presence be known and felt, and I have barred owls flying over head, calling out as I go for walks. I have my ducks and geese to welcome me, then the ravens lead me back home. Back to my little cabin ensconced in nature.

Procrastination

Never put off until tomorrow something that can be done right now, or some such thing. I’m good at paraphrasing, I tend to forget the entire adage, or quote, or what have you. These are good words to live by and it’s taken me decades to turn that into practice. Not all of it is my own fault, there are numerous external factors involved, life, other people, well, life in general gets in the way of life. Of course, one must take ones health, and various other factors, into consideration, but it really is best to make the attempt to not put things off for another day.

I had procrastination tendencies as a child; early memories of not wanting to do my homework for one reason or another, then getting it piled up with no end in sight took me by surprise, not to mention the incredible amount of ‘music’ coming from all manner of adults who surrounded me during my education system sentence. I didn’t understand, nor did I care, what the repercussions would be. Going to school, keeping myself and my room clean, then all the household chores, were all I had to do, but I didn’t want anything to do with any of it, for all kinds of reasons. Reasons.

During puberty, and then teen years, meant all new levels of procrastination. There were many problems in my life, which I am not discussing here, right now, that contributed to procrastination, spite against my parents and authority in general, were the two strong factors. So, really, what ended up happening is that over the years I developed it as a habit, a bad habit, one of many that I carried through my teen years and well into adult hood.

As a young adult I seemed to be in a state of shock for the first few years, then as I got through into my late twenties I came to an incredible realization of what I had been doing, or, in the case of procrastination, what I had been not doing. I was sabotaging my own life by procrastinating out of spite against people who had sabotaged my life. I was cutting off my own nose to spite my face. I was seeing things in a different light, as well as having different job experiences soon made me do the opposite of procrastinating, I was getting to things as soon as I could.

Then I fell, head first, into an unhealthy relationship which lasted far longer than it should have, and my procrastination came back with a vengeance. You want spite? Well you got it. Man, I look back on that time and I feel real stupid for staying in for so long. But, it happens, as they tell me. Life gets in the way of life. I soon fell into a whirl pool effect of procrastinating on life, which really bummed me out, which, in turn, made me procrastinate even more, which bummed me out even more. You see where this is going? Yes, folks, we do love a good run on sentence down here at The Rusty Prose.

I am so much better now. I still put things off, but that really bugs me so I try my best to get things done. Don’t get me wrong, I, by no means, am an over achiever, I just do my best to accomplish my tasks on hand.

Some Haiku

Here are a couple Haiku I found, I wrote them a few moths after my final Chemo treatments.

 

Wet, Lush, Green field;
Geese flying North, honking loud;
A warm breeze blowing.

A lone frozen oak;
A strong cold wind, one limb breaks;
The pain is silent.