Never say never -- Another health report for 9/30/04.

Kismet said:
...The answer...was available to every human being. Right in front of their face...
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That's an interesting book, Kis, it reminds me of the spiritual self help books of the early 70's, except that those were written for intelligent, if confused seekers, while contemporary books of that type seem to be truly written for idiots and dummies as they usually talk down to the reader in a condescending manner.

The first "idiots manual" was the classic hippie VW repair book by John Muir, written in the late 60's. "Idiot" was used tongue in cheek to mean "novice", much in the same way as "Freak" was used as a synonym for "hippie", or more accurately "member of the counter culture".

Although Muir has been dead for years, the book has gone through many revisions and is still in print, but has been "dumbed down' to appeal to real idiots of the type who read manuals for "dummies".

This is probably my own ego driven bias, but I refuse to take seriously manuals that are written for idiots and dummies, although I realize that they make up a huge portion of today's market. Are there more idiots, and are people dumber today then they were 40 years ago? It sure seem so.

What has this got to do with Buddhism? Everything, especially when viewed from a position of national or group Karma - The answer...was available to every human being. Right in front of their face.. (but they chose to look elsewhere).
 
Yes, the hospice program offered by St. Marys (my favorite and Rusty's nemesis) is a do it yourself at home program. And I know the nurse who runs it and who will be my nurse. She's a honey and we get along fine. In a way I can see where it might turn out to be fun -- in a morbid sort of way, of course.

I see the surgeon next Friday and we'll have to see if I'm up to the Whipple or not and what our odds are. It's a hell of a surgery and if the odds of getting out of the hospital alive are not good why bother? Lot of considerations.

I've been getting a good bit of email regarding this situation so thanks to all those good and caring folks who emailed. One all the way from Beijing! And certainly, thanks to all you forumites. We'll beat it or go down swinging and together.
 
cliff355 said:
That level 10 pain sounds like the toughest test...
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Level 10 pain is where all you can do is lay still and cry!:grumpy: Been there, done that and no fun at all.:( The good thing with hospice care is that the pain meds get bumped up to the most effective as well as the dosage. In hospice no one should ever be in pain from anything.
The pain meds will enable Uncle Bill to set at his screen right up until the time to walk west.
They enable a person to exit with dignity at the very least, a good thing.:)
 
Wonder why we always lay down for level 10. Yvsa, your definition is as good as any but mine was "lay down, pull your hair, and pray to die." I can handle 9 and 8 levels of pain but sure as hell don't want to.
 
I get level 10 all the time, but not constantly. The longest I had to endure at once was a 45 minute spell. Mine is from trigeminal neuralgia (facial pain) and when that 45 minute one hit, I regretted that it wasn't ever fatal.

Take drugs, drink beer, talk to friends, love your family and walk when it's time...if there's nothing else to do. Good luck with your surgical evaluation Bill...whatever form that luck takes.
 
Uncle Bill,
Thank you for sharing your 'way' with us. Words fail me, but I think you said it best; Ayo Gorkhali!!
Bri
 
I saved this after Bill M. posted it.


"Tamang on the rooftop revisited. For Finn and other flautists.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I decided this was worth a thread of its own.

Tamang on the rooftop revisited. For Finn and other flautists.

Here's the link:
http://www.bladeforums.com/forums/s...ighlight=tamang

Finn: Don't forget that lonely flute player.

I won't.

Sometimes when I'm up very late fighting the insomnia that comes with this current territory and it's very quiet, I'll hear him in my mind. Yangdu's in bed, the TV's off, the lights are low, I'm in my recliner and in front of me are thankas and numerous other Buddhist icons glowing in flickering candlelight.

I'll close my eyes and let my mind drift back to that Tamang. He's over on his roof with his basari and I'm on mine with my Khukuri rum or an iceberb beer. It does not sound like a spiritual setting -- rum or beer and a basari player -- but it is.

The sun is setting and up on the hill maybe a quarter or half mile away I watch the golden spires of Swayambunath, my favorite Buddhist temple in the entire world, turn into a glowing golden red, watch the prayer flags flying in the evening breeze, listen to the bells and gongs ringing softly in the distance, and always in the background is the Tamang and his basari making sweet sounds that I have never heard before and have not heard since.

And I can feel myself dying, drifting away to I don't know where, floating away with the prayers of the prayer flags, here and then diminshing like the sound of the basari, here momentarily, alive and full, and then gone. I can feel Bill Martino dying and being replaced by someone new. The experience is mystical, wonderful and comforting. I do not fight the death and welcome the new unknown. All my old misbeliefs and misconceptions are fading away, being replaced by a new philosophy and realizations which fill me as nothing ever has in 50 years. Without really realizing it, I am becoming a Buddhist. It is a slow and gradual process and I am not even aware of what is happening to me.

Almost every evening I go up on the rooftop and experience this evening ritual and then one day I awaken and realize that I have changed. I am no longer my self but am someone new. I am a stranger even to myself. I find all my old fears and regrets have somehow washed away to be replaced by something new and peaceful and fullfilling that I do not quite understand and that old emotions have vanished, replaced by better and nobler ones. Although my old self is dead I have never felt so alive and vibrant. I suspect the transformation is what Christians call being born again.

One does not forget such an experience and the Tamang was a part of it.

No, Finn, I will not forget the lonely flute player.
__________________
Blessings from the computer shack in Reno.

Uncle Bill"



Thank you.

Kis
 
As I lay in the hospital with a morphine drip in my arm and a button in my hand that let me shoot a squirt every six minutes, I had a lot of time to think about pain. The nurses would constantly ask me what my pain level was, but I never knew how to answer that.

Regardless of how intense the pain was, and sometimes it made me scream out and almost faint, I could never say it was a 10 because I could always think of something that would be a lot more painful, such as being impaled on a wooden stake, or being disemboweled, or skinned alive, so even if the pain was so intense it brought tears to my eyes, I could only give it a 6 or 7.

I did come up with a technique to help control the pain when the morphine wasn't doing it's job. I would concentrate on the pain, sort of a pain meditation, and that would put me in a space where the pain threshold was raised so my tolerance was increased.

But, that's all in the past. The pain is gone, and all it took was a surgical team with a couple scalpels and a bone saw. I still have enough Vicodin and Darvocet left over to keep Rush Limbaugh happy for a year. I thought about cashing it in with a dope dealer I know and buying a backing sensor system for my pickup so my wife won't run over any more of those invisible sports cars that sneak up behind her, but I'll probably just keep the dope and use it to cure my headache if she does back into another one.
 
Bill Martino said:
So, you've all seen me talk a pretty good talk, now let's all see, including me, how I walk the walk.
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"Talk the talk and walk the walk." Sounds like a Marine I once knew. Bill, are you sure you're not a Jarhead?

Hang in there.
 
Bill,

You have to get well. Not just for you and yours, either. Who else will go with me to the Nepali-style cafe near my work and have momos?

Get well and go to NH and I'll take you lunch.
 
Many thanks all. Now that we know where we are it's easier to find someplace to go.

Consultation with surgeon next Friday. With damaged ticker and other things going awry inside I may not be a candidate for the Whipple. And, even if I am I want a good return on my investment or it's no deal. I'm not going thru all that misery just for a six month recovery trade. They better say 4 or 5 years of good quality life or it's shark fin soup and green tea and see how the cancer likes that.
 
Ben Arown-Awile said:
I did come up with a technique to help control the pain when the morphine wasn't doing it's job. I would concentrate on the pain, sort of a pain meditation, and that would put me in a space where the pain threshold was raised so my tolerance was increased.
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Yes, that works. When I give pain my full attention, concentrate on it to the exclusion of other things, and try to feel it fully, then I find out that I am as bad at concentrating on pain as I am at concentrating on other things. Other thoughts, feelings, fantasies etc. shortly begin to intrude, just as they do when I try to concentrate on something more innocent like a candle flame. It is a good thing to know, and many people don't know it because they have always tried to avoid pain rather than trying to go to its center.

I discovered this in my youth when I had to have extensive dental work done. I figured since I wanted them to do this stuff to my body for its own good I would experience the pain it caused rather than use anasthetic. I figured that many people who had an understanding of pain had to pay terrible prices in terms of loss of function, and I had an opportunity to experience pain without paying such a price.

Others I know who have discovered this have been in situations like Ben describes, where running from the pain or fighting it no longer works.

Pain serves an important purpose in protecting our bodies, but not all pain is like that. Understanding Ben's point helps to make pain more of a faithful servant than a master.
 
I wish I could say that I was immune to pain.
I had colonitus as a teenager. (inflamed colon)
That was hellish.
I've had 6 rotten teeth that turned into rotten root canals.
1/3 of my body is covered with tattoos.

Still, when someone hurts me with unkind words, I feel every bit of it.

Uncle Bill you are a lucky man. I am old enough to see that now.
I know many who should envy you.

(Let me explain that. My martial arts teacher in Texas is in the hospital dying from a heart attack at 55 years of age. He was so alone when this happened, after 4 days, they can't find a single person who qualifies as "next of kin.")
 
I rate 10 as time to die or head for the ER. I've only hit it 4 times, I think, since this latest adventure started.

8-9 sends you scurrying to your med stash for a fix of morphine or dilaudid. If you're empty it's to the ER for an emergency refill.
 
Bill, if hanging on avoiding the Whipple becomes as painful and problematic as recovery from Whipple- do the procedure.

A few more level 10 days might convince me.
And yes, I'm afraid. I don't like any of this-
But, that Whipple is looking better.

It's all kind of a crap shoot- sometimes when you wait to see what happens it is now too late to do anything. Other times, you avoid the procedure, things improve.
Whatever you do will be prayed for full steam ahead.



munk
 
Prayers and smoke sent to Ksitigarbha on your behalf, Bill, and will continue.
 
I talk with surgeon Friday. Hell, I may not be a candidate for the Whipple due to heart damage and other considerations. I won't worry about it a lot until then.
 
Bill,

You mentioned your healing music and I thought of this guy's stuff. I heard him on the radio while driving back from Kentucky. His CDs are at this site:

http://www.healingsounds.com/onlinestore.asp

During the show, several of his songs were played and were really relaxing. He has been studying harmonics and their effects on the human body. It was real interesting. You can find a recap of the show here...

http://www.coasttocoastam.com/shows/2004/09/22.html

The Celestial Reki CDs (I and II) are apparently being used in cancer wards to help relax patients and reduce pain. I've been thinking about getting a couple for myself.

Maybe it'll help you.

Good luck with your journey. I'll continue prayers.

Alan
 
Scratch the name in my previous post. In Tibetan, it's Chenrezig. In Nepal either Avalokiteswara or Chengresik.

Why do I feel a headache coming on?
 
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