A word of caution—please inhale deeply before tackling today’s train of thought—ok—here goes ...
With hopes that today offers you time to smell flowers while enjoying birdsong, I, myself, am so tired of chemo’s side effects that wishful thinking can’t help but picture this afternoon’s infusion as being a well trained sniper, aiming its hit solely at the tumor while my spirit, which needs to curl up and rest peacefully within my self designated homemade nest, continues to release uncoiling angst, barely suppressed from conscious awareness, concerning the main reason why the underdog, rioting in our streets, is expressing its ravenous hunger for nourishment (withheld by lack of leadership), which can no longer be compressed within tightly lidded cans stamped with dates, long past due, concerning the fact that under trump’s inability to pull the wool over his own shifty little eyes, many voters who’d elected Midas to reign supreme over our nation are hitting bottom as we’ve allowed our value system to slide ever more swiftly down the slippery slope where anarchy awaits to swallow us, one and all—unless new leadership at the helm inspires the majority of our nation’s populous to take a leap of faith over anarchy in hopes of following the compassionate intelligent leadership of Joe Biden, whose comprehensive experiential guidance concerning democratic rules of order will encourage our populous to unite so as to create the promised land where the creed of equality and justice for all proves inclusive of every color of skin, all religious affiliations and both genders of every age.
Thank goodness for intuitive trains of thought that offer my proactive mind and wearied body sound reason to release pent up angst so as to relax more fully while my indomitable spirit invites today’s infusion of chemo to effect change for the better by battering the tumor, hopefully, without battering the rest of me, which imagines every healthy cell standing in solidarity so as to contribute in some unforeseen way to my regaining a wholesome semblance of good health as my future unfolds just as our nation is working toward shrinking the tumor in The White House so as to disarm its false sense of self-empowerment before our nation slips so far into the bottomless pit of despair as to remain blind to the fact that healing depends upon the unveiling of a host of inner strengths uniting against the invader, whose unhealthy presence violates whatever it takes to rebuild a thriving economy in which a community of people of every color and ethnicity feel safely protected by the laws of the land so as to live, side by side, in peaceful prosperity, at last..
And having said my piece, today’s infusion of chemo is ready to wrestle with the invasive tumor within, followed by my sense of wholeness curling up within the peaceful place, which awaits to welcome my host of inner strengths home where resting peacefully proves necessary before I, like our nation, can continue to undergo a serious, life saving transition toward surgery thus ensuring that the unwelcome nature of the tumor within will be wholly exhumed, once and for all.
Though my spirit/mind/body connection remains positively resourceful, I’ll admit that after many months of hospitalizations, physical miseries and several life saving blood transfusions, I’m feeling weary of chemo keeping me so wearied as to be unable to muster the energy to walk to the window adjacent to our front door to wave to friends, holding out homemade offerings of love, each time one or another rings our bell. Though I always want to say thank you followed by blowing heartfelt kisses that’s not been in the cards, as of yet. So when I say—Time for a new deck—I’m sure you get my drift. 🌈🌻
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Whew! Talk about feeling weary, I’m really tuckered, now. After resting for a while, I’ll reread this post in hopes that it makes sense. And if it does, in addition to being publishing here, perhaps it will show up on Facebook, as well.
😴Annie
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