Zen Kev was an abysmal failure this last week in the hospital. No sapphire bullets of pure love emanating from Chemo-Kev. No sir, nor was it a meditation on “What is the sound of one hand clapping?” Actually it was more like what is the sound of two wooden mallets crushing the skull of your supposed care giver. I still imagine beating them into some gelatinous state of being as I write, they’re skulls still have such a soft hypnotic percussive effect, at least when I’m ½ way through with them in my minds eye.
My solution at the moment is to crank up some Tito Puente, which is doing the trick nicely.
So, as you can tell there is much, much room for some spiritual growth on my part. Of course I could make it about them, but I seem to have been trapped in some HIPPA bureaucratic nightmare from which there was no escape and I know I was not the first since they ignored this with such aplomb.
The shit they do to you as they attempt to align your listing vessel is beyond my energy to describe at the moment, so maybe they aren’t trying to kill your body, just reproduce a reasonable facsimile of what it would be like hauling a dead body around.
So, here’s looking to better days ahead and if possible some amends on my part.
Forward, into the smog…
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Yep, had to save him a few times, which kept him from going over into the abyss. Damn I' m glad he is home, what with me and Dan being his trusty "Flo Nightengale", he should be bloging at a phenominal rate. Caio'
ReplyDeleteBut can she cook a Quiche, that is the question?
ReplyDeleteSo glad you home. I know that is the best feeling. Saw Dan and glad he is there to help. When you feel like it let us know we can come by.