Another Dark Little Corner
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Started this before change to "New Blogger", as backup in case of trouble with digiphoto blog "In a Small Dark Room", or rants & links blog "Hello Cruel World" . Useful - at one stage Dark Room was there, but like the astrophysical Dark Matter, we could't see it ... better now, but kept Just In Case.
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There is nothing. There is no God and no universe, there is only empty space, and in it a lost and homeless and wandering and companionless and indestructible Thought. And I am that thought. And God, and the Universe, and Time, and Life, and Death, and Joy and Sorrow and Pain only a grotesque and brutal dream, evolved from the frantic imagination of that same Thought. Mark Twain (letter to Joseph Twichell after his wife's death) [me, on a bad day] WRITER'S LINKS Absolute Write Paypal donation button: Absolute Write is one of the leading sites for information on writing and publishing, especially the scam versions thereof. It has a broad, deep online community with an enormous message base going back years. Now it needs help. See the details and discussion here Preditors and Editors Everything you wanted to know about literary agents On the getting of agents Writer Beware Miss Snark Writer's Net (and my Wish List) |
2009-11-13
Contemplating yesterday Don't really like that word "palliative", when it's used in my direction. "Curative" or "healing" would be much nicer. Doctors say most important thing is to make my quality of life as good on possible for as long as possible. OTOH, not having something to "make me more comfortable" is an even worse thought. Much medical treatment is a lot like torture with good intentions (even with pain management). I've definitely learnt cowardice, like the burnt child fears the fire. Should really get on with photo books & "arranging affairs" (@#!&*%*#@!! paperwork). Probably in some kind of denial/ultimate procrastination. Don't appear to have learnt anything important from the last 10 years of "teaching experiences". The stupid must go right to the bone: Cue one of Pris' better-known quotes. Still, market for inspirational books (Above It All: My Spiritual Journey from Cancer to Climbing Mt Everest in a Wheelchair*) must surely be glutted now. So many people are getting to ages of more illness, there'll be more authors than readers. Feel better after blood for anaemia yesterday (Vampire Mez. Practicing accent: Wampyr.). Charcoal tablets seem to be working, too, unless some other thing is helping reduce gas explosions. Will add to stock for trip. Another landmark: got Nelune car lift to hospital because was scared if I walked same gas blow-out would happen as the other day when I tried to go to pay bill, shops. Was going to discuss "palliative" with friends — being up at hospital with them, back in Rehab (separate room, with openable window, own toilet, relative peace and quiet), after treatment and appointments — but got distracted talking and dealing with odd problems that popped up. Hope your Black Friday went well. * Note: Not entirely a joke. There's a new one out about a couple of Aboriginal(?) footballers(?) travelling out in the desert, one of whom is in chemo/radio therapy at the time. (So either it's a short trip or they've spaced out treatments longer round the trip or it's actually just after treatment.) [UPDATE] Kurt Fearnley, who normally uses a wheelchair because he was born with the lower part of his spine missing, went back to his childhood form of locomotion — pulling himself along by his arms while his much-shrunken legs trail along after his body — to crawl along the entire Kokoda Track because the steep slopes & muddy ground made using a wheelchair impractical. (Up & Down Stories – Kokoda & Me) While I have to drop my shopping and lay down for quite some time just after going around the block and climbing the 57 steps back to my flat, and he's an athlete. (See news.smh.com.au/ breaking-news-world/ exhausted-fearnley-finishes-kokoda-crawl-20091118-ilga.html) Labels: cancer, medical, medicine, quotidian, stroke, thoughts, treatment, words
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