Posts Tagged ‘Life


Can’t freakin’ sleep aka radiation therapy sucks!!!

I fell asleep only to wake up half an hour later to throw up. I am so nauseous, my scalp is burning, I am weak and feel like a limp spaghetti noodle. I am just starting week 2 and I don’t know how I am going to get through the rest of this week and the 5 others ones coming up. For some reason this round of radiation is hitting me very hard. I guess it’s where I am weaker, weigh less, I don’t know, but damn I feel like death. I lay here on the bed, or on the couch, usually without music or TV on. My sleep patterns are screwed, I will be up all night one night, then another night I will go to bed early and sleep for hours (all night).  I just want these weeks to hurry up and fly by.

Anyhow, why I am writing this blog —got sidetracked bitching haha. I was thinking, everyone loves my recipes, they love hearing about things I cook and I thought –“why not make a recipe blog”. Would you all read it? Use it, if I did? And can y’all come up with a good name for it? My brain isn’t functioning and if I think too much I make my cancer hurt (hehehe). So what do you think? Recipe blog with all kinds of yummies?!?!?! I think KNOW it would be fun as hell for me to do! I will also accept submissions so that would be interactive and fun for everyone!

sleepykittyOk, I am going back to bed to try to sleep (I hope). Please comment on this one (that includes you lurkers). Let me know what you think of my idea!


Q AND A time….(a LONG post)

Well, since I woke up in pain I figured I would write my first question and answer blog. I am STILL taking suggestions, so if there is something you want me to write about, just comment and tell me! The first question/suggestion was from my dear friend Butterfly (read her blog, it’s intense and awesome). She said:

Hi V,

If you’re taking requests, I would love to hear more about how you came to be you. What you used to do for a living, how you met your ex-wife, how you came to have a child, how you met D, all that. :-)


How I came to be me. Well, the story of my birth…how I came to be is that my “Dad” (the abuser) married my mother when they were both 19 years old. From what my Mama tells me and what other people have told me, he was a cheater from the beginning. Mama stayed and stayed, she put up with his cheating for years…then one day she was working (She was an ER nurse) and she met a beautiful man that  had moved to Louisville from Athens Greece just a few months before…he was enchanted with my Mama, he begged her to see him and finally she gave in. She tells me she honestly fell in love with this man Dimitri…she told me she felt no guilt being with him after all “Dad”‘ did, but this wasn’t a one night stand like “Dad”, it was true love. She ended up pregnant and she told my “Dad”. He begged and pleaded with her to stay, he apologized and Mama gave in to him–she stayed. He swore to her he would raise this child as his own. Mama believed him. This baby was born January 24–that baby was me.

Even though she had promised “Dad” she wouldn’t see my Papa again, she couldn’t stay away from him. So the times he was gone on business Mama and I stayed with Papa at his apartment and as I grew and grew Papa loved me more and more. I remember his love, his warmth, his smell…the way he would hug me…kiss me, the way he would say my name in that thick greek accent. I was happy when I was with him. I felt safe from “Dad” the one who promised to raise me as his own, only he didn’t love me, he was abusing me from the time I was a baby. When I was with my Papa, in his apartment, in his arms I was safe. I was safe from “Dad”, safe from the world. My Papa loved me.

When I was almost 5 years old my Papa got sick, he was diagnosed with brain cancer. I remember my Mama crying when she found out. I remember going to spend more and more time with him–I also remember watching my beloved Papa waste away……….

I remember crawling up in his hospital bed, not long before he died. “Dad” had beaten me pretty bad–I was so sore. Papa noticed–he couldn’t speak, he was too weak, but I saw in his eyes, he knew, he knew. I could see the pain…the anger. He was mad at “Dad” for hurting me, and he was mad at himself for having to leave me..

Ok this is hard, I have to take a break, crying too much…

*SIGH* Ok. Let me get through this part…I knew if Papa were healthy and strong he would have grabbed me up at that moment and taken me away from the abuse, from “Dad” and protect me and love me with everything in his body. Unfortunately he died a few days later, with me and my Mama at his side when he took his last breath……..For awhile, I was mad at my Papa, for leaving me, leaving me alone with “Dad”. I was scared, I missed my Papa, I missed the love, the unconditional love, the safety. My abuse only got worse–and my state of mind went to hell when “Dad” took my puppy that Papa gave me from me, my Frisky. That was the only thing left I had of my Papa and he took it. Anyhow, my abuse got worse, I got angrier. I started cutting myself when I was young, I remember when I was 6 thinking of what I could do to die…how I could kill myself and be with my Papa. I took a bottle of aspirin. The only thing I got for that was puking and a horrible ringing in my ears for days. I drank drain cleaner and ended up in the hospital for a couple of weeks…I kept living no matter what I did, so the cutting started to feel alive, to release the anger.

I was also being abused by a neighborhood “Christian” man who would tell me as he fucked my 6 year old body that GOD told him to do it. The abuse from this neighborhood man didn’t go on everyday, but at least once a week, I remember trying to tell “Dad” saying “Daddy, this man is hurting my butt.” What did “Dad” do? He told me to shut the fuck up and quit trying to get attention. So I had NO safe place to go. I was abused by this “Christian” bastard and by my “Dad” who was suppose to protect me. The abuse from “The Man” went on until I was almost 12. I was also passed around by my “Dad” as a child whore to his pedophile friends. I was a fuck toy to so many people. My life was filled with sex and tortures…

As I grew the abuse from “Dad” got worse and I grew into a teenager, it turned into a sick obsession. He thought he was my “lover” *shudder*. My suicide attempts and cutting got worse. I was holding in so much rage, so much hate. In my freshman year of high school, I had a teacher that obviously didn’t like me for some reason and grabbed my arm, jerking me out of my desk. Wrong move–I evidently let out some of my rage on her and hit her…knocking her a few feet back. I don’t remember it, my best friend Kev was in the class with me and told me what happened. The only thing I remembered was being in the principal’s office, with my Mama and the cops there. They ended up putting me in a psych hospital for a year. At first, it was great–I was away from the asshole who was hurting me, I felt safe. I was still clammed up and wouldn’t tell any of the therapists about my abuse. “Don’t scream, don’t tell” , “Dad’s” mantra I was made to repeat kept going through my head, I couldn’t tell. One day one of the therapists I really liked came into my room, he told me he understood, he knew I just wanted to be loved. I cried, thinking he really understood. He started to touch me–my arms, my legs, my cock. *SIGH* I wanted love so bad I let him do things to me. I let myself think he loved me. Many nights he would come to my room and do things to me, get me to do things to him. He made me think he cared. I was a stupid teenager, who was so abused, so angry, so needy and vulnerable and he took advantage of me. He molested me just like “Dad”, he used me. I told him I loved him–did he tell me he loved me back? No. He told me I couldn’t have him and to stay away from him. He broke my fucking heart and made me feel even more victimized. Another person to abuse me. I knew then I had a neon “Abuse Me It’s OK” sign over my head….

When I got out of the hospital, I met Kelli. She was so sweet and nice and she broke through my shyness. Kelli, Kevin and I started doing everything together. We were the best of friends—then I started having feelings for her, love feelings and she was feeling the same way. We started doing some things alone–getting closer, loving each other. One day, we decided to “do it”, both of us virgins..(I do NOT consider being molested taking my virginity). We parked my truck in a secluded place one day after school and we made love for the first time….and I got her pregnant that day *SIGH*. When she told me, I wanted to do the right thing, I loved her. So we told our parents, of course they were shocked, her Dad hated me for getting her pregnant, but we finally got them to sign papers so we could get married. We got married got our own little apartment. We would go to school during the day, then Kevin would drive her home while I went to work. Kelli and I were young, but we were happy and mature for our ages and we both wanted our baby. I remember being in awe thinking that a life we created was growing inside of her. In her fourth month, I came home from work and she didn’t greet me as usual at the door. I called out for her–nothing. I went into the bedroom and saw her lying on our bed, blood all over. She had miscarried and hemorrhaged, she was dead. I screamed and grabbed her, tried to “wake her up”, I prayed, I begged….*SIGH* I called the paramedics and sat in the floor by the bed, with her blood all over me, holding her limp hand until they got there. I lost my child and my Kelli…the first person to really love me was gone.

At her funeral, I was devastated…then her father came to me and told me it was MY fault she was dead, if I had kept my “dick in my pants” she would be alive. I felt even WORSE and after the funeral I was sitting in Mama and “Dad’s” house, he was in the living room with me, I cried and said “I just want to die…I can’t take this”…what was “Dad’s” reaction? He said “If I get the gun, you promise to do it….” If he would have gotten that gun out at that time I would have blown his fucking brains out then killed myself!!!!

A few months after Kelli died, I met Jennifer. She was sweet and nice, she pursued me, I said no many times, but she was persistant. Finally I agreed and we went out. I know now I was rebounding from Kelli, from the pain, so I think I thought Jen was nicer than she really was. Long story short, I ended up marrying her when we turned 18, not long after our graduation. Kevin begged me not to marry her, he had bad feelings about her. I didn’t listen and went through with it. On our wedding night, a night when you should be making love, laughing and making plans for the future, I was alone and she left me to go out with her friends. It never ended. Jennifer turned into the devil’s daughter. She was verbally and physically abusive to me. She caused me to have stitches many times by hitting me with things. She cheated on me–she was just cruel. She said mean things to me…let’s just say things she did to me were horrible. We had sex a total of 4 times during our 7 year marriage. We had been married for almost 2 years when I got tired of being monogamous to someone who was fucking anything with two legs. I played a gig with my band one night and this girl who was like a groupie of mine flirted with me, I said to her—“Wanna fuck?”. She of course said yes, I took her outside to my truck, and that is all it was, a simple fuck. A few weeks later she’s at the club telling me she’s pregnant. GOOD GOD. But me being an upstanding guy, I told her I would be with her through out the pregnancy, I would, of course, help her with our child. I had to tell Jen what was going on, her reaction? “As long as I don’t have to touch it you can play Daddy all you want.” , fucking cold bitch.

On August 30th my daughter was born. I was in delivery as she was born…my Melody, I was in love. The nurses went to hand Mel to her and M (Mel’s Mom, not going to put her full name) said “I don’t want it, I am not ready to be a Mom, I don’t want it.” IT?!?!?! How can you call a child IT? So at 20 years old I became a single father….I left Jen a few years later (she never helped with Mel anyhow) and it was just me and my baby girl…we were happy, except for “Dad” obsessing and still abusing me *SIGH*….

I was working my way up in my company (software company). I started working there when I was 15 and stayed. I worked my way up from gopher, to sales, to network administrator to finally a VP!! I was so fucking proud of myself. I was making good money, I had a nice home, a beautiful daughter. The only thing was, I was a heroin addict and STILL being abused by my “Dad”.

I started doing heroin when I was 15 to kill my pain….Now don’t judge me and say I was a horrible father for doing heroin. Yes, I was an addict, but my child NEVER saw me do it, she NEVER did without ever! My Mama would keep Mel on the weekends and I would binge and binge, heroin and as much alcohol as my body could stand.

Sometimes I would go on 2 and 3 day binges–no one would know where I was–Kevin would come find me somewhere in Louisville or up in Indiana in drug houses, fucked up out of my mind. I wanted to kill all my pain, from all my abuse. The abuse from “Dad” that was still going on. The abuse I could tell NO ONE about. When my divorce from Jen was final, I really kinda went crazy. I had what I call my “whore” days. I was living a totally gay lifestyle, men only. I would go to gay clubs, fuck in the ‘back rooms”, no names, no staying over, no regrets. I just wanted to be high and fuck without emotions. I had an AIDS scare after about 3 years of the circuit lifestyle and that stopped the “whore days”.

I met Jaysin…a wonderful guy and lived with him for 2 years. He loved me, I loved him. Unfortunately fate wasn’t on our side and we weren’t meant to be together forever. He got offered a job in Dallas, TX, an offer he couldn’t refuse. He begged me to go with him, but I couldn’t leave my GOOD job, uproot my child, leave my Mama…so we split amicably with many tears. He still checks on me every now and again. 🙂

So again, I was alone….I went through a few boyfriends and girlfriends then met Carol. She told me I was the love of her life, she left her shitty husband for me…we lived together 8 years. I got off heroin when we moved in together, my life was turning around, then I got those three fucking words that would change my life forever. “You have cancer.”

I think Carol thought I was going to die (well they told my family I had 6 weeks when they found the leukemia) so she stayed….through the heavy chemo to kill off everything in my body, the bone marrow transplant, the months in the hospital, the pneumonia, the staph infections….*SIGH* I told her she could leave, it would be ok and I would understand, but she said she loved me and wasn’t going to leave me….

I went into remission, then about 6 months later it was back–she stayed but it was never the same. She would only touch me if she had been drinking, made me feel like I was shit. Like I was unattractive, like I was a big nothing, but still, I stayed. She promised to take care of me until I died. Yeah right, she took care of me by cheating on me numerous times, until I couldn’t take anymore and I left her to move back to Kentucky with my family……

I swore I would never fall in love with anyone again, not seriously. I was sick, I was fighting terminal leukemia, rounds of chemo and radiation. Then they found the 2 small growing cancerous brain tumors. My Papa’s tumors? I don’t know, but it was more chemo and more radiation and more fucking meds. I felt ugly, shitty, unattractive, unloveable…then on that day in May, I met D on deviantart, we got married on August 9th 2006, the anniversary of my Papa’s death, he was there, he wanted us to marry on that day. I felt it and I know it…he was there with us.

The rest is history I guess. I am still here fighting after they gave me 4-6 months to live years ago. My body IS slowly shutting down, I am on home hemodialysis three days a week because I am in kidney failure, my gastro system is slowly shutting  down…I’ve had tumors removed from my kidney, my throat….It sucks, but I am fighter…and I am stubborn.

I just found out one of the tumors in my head is growing again, my seizures are getting really bad again…so next monday I start radiation YET AGAIN, 5 days a week, 35 rounds. I get to be fried to a crisp again….They wanted me to do chemo but I have refused. No more chemo. If the tumor doesn’t respond to the radiation, then I guess it will just grow until it or the leukemia finally takes me out. NO MORE CHEMO!

I am loved and I love. I am abused, I am sick, but I am here and I am glad for that.

WOW, this ended up being long, but hey you asked how I came to be. I could have made it even longer and got into more detail, but enough is enough. 😉

Thanks Butterfly! I hope this is insightful….not too boring! haha

As I said, if you have something you want me to blog about, just put it in a comment!

I’m out to try to sleep again!


Random blathering, from my random mind…

I think it is time to get my “ode to Dad” moved down a bit.  The bastard doesn’t deserve the top spot in my blog, don’tcha agree?

This blog is probably going to be uhhh well…you will see. But it’s MY blog so I can do what I want, right? haha…

relistorI got my Relistor today, thank GOD (yeah I took the pic of it lying on my bed haha). Yes, I know you all don’t REALLY want to know about my bodily functions, but just put up with it, mmmkay? Now, I have been fighting this CML (chronic myelogenous leukemia) since late 1999. I have been on opioids for so long that they have relaxed my intestines to the point that they aren’t working anymore. Oh yes, that means no nice potty time for me after morning coffee. Nope I have been suffering for months with this problems. My wonderful doctor (no sarcasm here, he REALLY IS wonderful) prescribed Colace first…nothing. He then prescribed a laxative…nothing. I mean NOTHING. I took it for four days and not even a CRAMP. So we finally decided that Relistor was the final chance for me and my body.  From the website for Relistor:


RELISTOR is indicated for the treatment of opioid-induced constipation in patients with advanced illness who are receiving palliative care, when response to laxative therapy has not been sufficient.

Opioid-induced constipation (OIC) is one of the most distressing side effects seen in palliative care patients.

  • OIC can cause or result in abdominal pain, nausea and vomiting, or fecal impaction.
  • OIC can last the entire time that a palliative care patient with advanced illness is taking opioid medication.

You see, Relistor is only prescribed for patients with advanced illness (a nice way of saying we are dying) who can’t take a damn crap anymore because of other meds that help us with pain. Isn’t it amazing how a medication for one thing can cause another thing in your body to fuck up? You would think that with all the advances in medicine and medications they could get SOMETHING right for people huh?

Ok I digress — I will take my first shot of Relistor this evening and see if everything comes out alright in the end.  Hardy har har, I made a funny LMAO.  Keep your fingers, toes, eyes, legs and anything else crossed you can that this helps me with relatively small side effects. If it doesn’t, the only other option is a colostomy, that I DO NOT want. I already have cancer, DDD, COPD, a feeding tube in my stomach and fucking failed kidneys, I REALLY don’t need nor want another stoma in my tummy! I have to wonder just how much better I will feel once I can use the bathroom like a normal man again…they say that holding that stuff in can be toxic to your body. Well fuck me rotten, I’ve been suffering with this for MONTHS! Will I suddenly take a good crap that makes me sing with joy and maybe,  just MAYBE feel a little better? I certainly hope so. HAH I won’t be DJing tonight, my Dr. told me to take the first shot today, and then I do it every other day after that. I don’t know HOW it is going to work, so I can’t very well be DJing and say “Oh, oops, hold on again while I go potty”, now can I? HAHAHA. I also don’t know how MUCH I will go the first time, I mean are my insides SO backed up I will go multiple times with the first shot? Oh geez, lucky me. Although, if I did, it might actually  make me breathe a sign of relief haha. Now don’t make a face, you ALL know it FEELS GOOD to take a normal shit. You aren’t an honest human if you say it doesn’t! And you know, you really don’t realize how much you take for granted with your body until you can’t do it. Like peeing, yeah, just plain old peeing. I used to hop out of bed, pee, wash my face, brush my teeth, start my day. Now, since I am on dialysis, I get up…forget I can’t pee, errr, whip it out, then realize “OH, well HOLY FUCK, I can’t pee anymore, what am I doing??” It makes me kind of sad sometimes. You get the urge to pee, the urge to take a healthy dump, to eat, to sneeze, to scratch an itch, and you take those things for granted until you can’t do them anymore. SO, I will be happy IF this Relistor can help me be some what normal again. La De Daaa. Enough about that, I am sure you are sighing with relief about that huh? *snickers*

Ok now, I am going to rant a little. I hope I don’t start to cry again, because I have a headache. I just found out that one of my bestest friends online is getting sicker. Back story– we met on Pogo when I joined his league. We found out we were both suffering with cancer, him lymphoma and me with leukemia, two cancers, same family of illness. We started talking, bitching and moaning with each other, crying, laughing together. We each understand what the other is going through. We know what it’s like to be so fucking sick — to puke our brains out on a daily basis — to feel so weak and tired, to go through chemo, medication side effects, etc.  Yesterday,  we were talking, then he got a call from his dr. saying they were going to temporarily take him off of his chemotherapy and some of his meds because he is going into liver failure. I swear, when he told me that, it was like someone hit me full force in the heart with a baseball bat. We were both crying…I was even crying at the intro to my show last night *sigh*. I went from being so fucking sad, to being so fucking mad I could spit nails. WHY do GOOD people like my friend Chuck and I get sick, when the BAD people like my bastard of a “Dad” just keep going like freakin’ energizer bunnies? The bad keep getting and going and the good like us get sicker and sicker. We suffer barbaric medical treatments, horrific side effects from those treatments and medications. We get so sick that we wonder WHY we keep going, why not just end it all? Of course, the answer is simple — we look at our loved ones and they keep us going, but motherfuck, how UNFUCKINGFAIR is it?

I got off air last night, laid with D and I fucking lost it. I mean really lost it. I was sobbing, I couldn’t stop crying. I was crying for me, for Chuck, for D, for everyone else that IS suffering or HAS suffered with cancer or any other catastrophic illness. I raged at the unfairness that we (the ones living with and fighting cancer NOW) are essentially human fucking guniea pigs for the pharmaceutical companies, for most doctors. I KNOW in my heart there is a fucking cure for cancer out there, but what do the drug companies do? THEY LET ME AND CHUCK DIE. They let other people die. They simply do NOT care. It’s all about the benjamins ain’t it? Fuck the suffering we go through with their “wonderful” chemotherapy. Fuck the intense pain our skin feels when it’s being fried to a crisp with radiation treatments. Fuck the hours of endless puking, the kind I have every day, where you burst the blood vessels in your eyes, where you puke SO hard you pass out because your body just can’t take it anymore. Ohh and it’s even worse when you CAN take a shit, oh yeah, it’s lovely to have to sit on the toilet and hold the garbage pail (that of course you buy SOLEY for the purpose of puking into, because who wants to put their face into the bathroom garbage pail) heaving out both ends as you pray for death just so it will stop. Meanwhile, rapists, pedophiles, murderers and the like just keep truckin’. FUCK YOU pharmaceutical companies! GIVE US THE CURE, you KNOW what it is…for the LOVE OF GOD,  just give it up. If looking at someone like myself, like Chuck, suffer isn’t enough to make you want to give up the cure, then OH MY GOD look at the CHILDREN that I see when I visit my oncologist/hematologist. They are SO fucking brave, they sit there with their little bald heads shining, some so weak they can’t get out of their Mother/Father’s lap, yet they always have a smile, always. If that doesn’t tug your heart strings enough to give up the CURE, then you all REALLY are cold hearted bitches! ACK!

Ok I am done with this rant, I am really making myself mad again and I really don’t need to cry, my head is busting. Oh, yeah, I didn’t mention THAT did I? Oh yeah I think one of my “slow growing” brain tumors has decided to grow again and yeah, that means more radiation, and I KNOW they will suggest more chemo. GOD I don’t think my body could take it. But at the very least, I get to feel like a fucking piece of bacon getting sizzled and fried up in the pan. OH FUCK CANCER I HATE YOU!

I’m out!


i’m alive and well….

This will be a short post, but I just wanted to let you all know I am alive and ok. I have been fighting pneumonia for 2 weeks now. The doctor has me on one more round of antibiotics and now more Prednisone, blah I hate this shit. It makes me sweat, makes me jittery and nervous, I hate it and I have to take it for 9 more days *le sigh*.  Dialysis is going ok, it just really took it out of me with the pneumonia on top of things…I am waiting to hear about my disability *SIGH* I hope they just give it to me this time and don’t make me jump through fucking hoops. So all of you keep your eyes, legs, fingers, toes and anything else crossed for me you can haha.

I have also been away from my DJing for 2 weeks…couldn’t talk long without a huge coughing fit, but tonight I am back! Yup, I have had a lot of people writing me to ask when I was coming back, people were asking D. SOOOO I am here to tell you it is tonight in about an hour, 8:00 pm ET. You know how to get there…just click the banner link —-> on the right side and tune in. If you request and put your name and all, I will bump your first song up to the top of the queue!

I have many things that have happened since I last blogged, but I am not going to go into them right now, I don’t want to get sad or pissed before my show. These steroids are making me grumpy enough haha!

I hope you will all come tune into my show and say hi! Blog more later!


be inspired!

We all go through life bitching about one thing or the other, from having no money, to life dealing us a shitty hand. You want to complain and bitch about the mundane…then you see something like this:

And you see that our lives aren’t so bad, there is always someone in more pain, having more problems than we are.

I LOVE this guys inspirational message he sends out to people everywhere. His philosophy is a lot like mine. STRENGTH, you have to have strength to deal with life. I know I would be dead already without being so stubborn and strong. I would have given up the first time I contemplated suicide for the first time at 8 years old. You see, I have fallen so many times and had to pull myself  back up, but I did, and no matter WHAT, I kept going, kept trudging on. We all have the strength to get back up, but sometimes in all the crap we go through in life we forget that. Then we see something like this…and it makes us cry (well it did me) and makes us see that life isn’t SO terrible and we CAN get back up — no matter WHAT knocks us to the ground.

Thanks Nick Vujicic  for being a HERO!  You can also check out his other site Attitude Is Altitude.

That’s it for today. More later.


Ah Hell!!!!! My hospitalization!

As most of you know by now,  I was hospitalized on Tuesday night,  not long after I got off air. They say I had a “TIA” (aka Mini Stroke) *SIGH*. It was scary as hell. I have to see a neurologist on the 15th and I will find out more I suppose…I am very dizzy, I have hardly an balance/coordination, I get confused kind of easily and my fucking eyesight is worse now (as if that could get worse *SIGH*).  I am on a med for dizziness three times a day…plus my usual stuff. I am taking more Ativan for nerves too. I was talking to D when it happened, I started feeling very dizzy and it wouldn’t go away, I thought if I could just sit up it would help, but no, it got worse and worse, I got up to try to walk and nearly fell…(not good)…I sat back down, then started to break out into sweats, my left leg went weak and my lips went numb and tingly. I knew then it was time to dial 911. I NEVER call an ambulance, so that in itself is saying something. They got here at the same time as my sister and my daughter. My poor daughter was so scared she was throwing up. I felt bad for scaring them. My sister said when I called her  she couldn’t understand me because I was slurring my words *frown*.  They did a CT scan of my head and said they didn’t see a bleed which is GOOD, but the ER doc also said they can’t always see a stroke on CT scan when it is happening (well SHIT). He told me he was admitting me to the hospital. Of course I tried to talk him into letting me come home…ever the stubborn one I am…haha.  As you could tell he told me “NO” rather quickly and they finally got me up to my room around 3:00 AM. I slept all night and mostly all day yesterday (well when I could, they kept waking me every two hours to check my pupils and give me meds).

I begged again to go home yesterday afternoon and of course, nope,  they wouldn’t let me out. The food SUCKED major ass, they did give me all the coke and sprite I wanted though, thank God, because I am soooo very thirsty.  This morning the Dr. came in and I told him to PLEASE let me come home. He agreed that I would probably rest better at home, but I had to promise that if anything happened I would call 911 again *le sigh*. So here I am…exhausted, in bed on the laptop.

Thank all of you who sent out prayers for me, they worked, I am still here. As I said, I am still way off balance and walking like a drunk, still dizzy at times, weak and fatigued but I am glad to be in my OWN bed,  in my OWN apartment.

I am tired…I am done typing.


Happy New Year…

This won’t be a long blog, I am in pain today, bad pain, it hurts to type too much AND I have a show to do at 9:00pm ET and I need to save my hands for typing to my listeners. heh…

I just wanted to wish everyone a wonderful 2009, I certainly hope it is MUCH better that 2008 was. I learned a lot of things in 2008, I met new friends (good ones), I met some bad people who taught me not to trust so much. I loved like there was no tomorrow. 2008 has been one of the hardest years I can remember and I am honestly glad it’s over with and as I move into 2009 I am going to just keep praying to God that things turn around this year for me and my family.

D–in May we will be going on 4 years together. WOW, who’da thunk it huh? We are going strong, in spite of what some people thought when we first got together…I remember predictions we wouldn’t make it a few months *thumbs nose at those people*. I am still kicking and our love is still strong and for that I feel so blessed. I love you now more than ever honey, thank you for sticking by my side…

You know, I was just thinking as I am typing, I am going on 10 years of fighting this CML (leukemia). WOW, fuck a whole decade, that’s a lot of fighting, a lot of meds, a lot of sickness. Shit am I really still here? Did I really make it to 2009? Man, how time flies when you’re not having fun huh? haha

I have a few wishes for 2009 and here we go:

  • I wish that NO CHILD would ever be hurt again. I would gladly take the pain for every survivor out there and for the ones who are going through it now. God, please take care of the children.
  • I wish happiness and strength for my daughter. I hope she realizes her potential and sees how many people love her. I hope she stays straight and makes a wonderful life for herself.
  • I wish peace, love and ultimate happiness for my family and friends.
  • I wish for strength and peace for myself. I really do need it.
  • I wish that I would finally get my disability, I think I deserve it. I really do.
  • I wish for 2009 to bring even more love into my life with D. I love you honey.
  • I wish that no one I care about will ever have to suffer like I have, mentally or physically–I will gladly suffer as long as God needs me to if it means no one I love will ever have to deal with cancer and/or abuse.

Love to you all..

~V - The internets fastest growing blog directory

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