Category Archives: family

THE FACES OF MY CANCER – ‘That part’.

Some may find the visual aids within to be too emotional for many people. The written media also targets at the minimum 14 years plus.)

Here are some pictures from various stages of my Cancer treatment.

“I have always been highly spiritual. Rarely religious.

My Queen Heals Me Spiritually

AS YOU CAN SEE I LOOKED FINE.

But, I had slowly been feeling flu like syptoms for a few weeks at this point.

I spent most mornings reflecting about life. Subliminal messages telling me to beware.

I should have not procrastinated.

Nightsweats became daysweats

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I have a strong survivalists side. I do not lay down in a battle. It is an Irish Genetic Inheritance.

There’s humour in all instances of life. I soon had to find reasons to smile.

Hospital stay 7. Combined weeks since January 4th, 2019, equal 19, so far.

The smiles are half truths. I hide many emotions. Or rather, I ‘used’ to hide them. Now, I let the truth be told.

THE PRINCESS MARGARET CANCER HOSPITAL. I AM VERY BLESSED TO BE UNDER THE WORLD CLASS CARE THAT THEY GIVE. MANY DO NOT HAVE THIS TYPE OF EXCELLENCE AND PROFESSIONALISM.

This pain is relentless. None stop for two weeks now. 24/7, has not stopped once.

It is by far the worse pain I have ever experienced. And pain and I are lifelong buddies.

This pain is a b*dstard!!!!

Many battles won. No losses. Round Two! Finish HIM!!!!

So, this is just a tidbit of the Faces I have and must endure. There are smiling ones with genuine joy. There are sad ones with devastating sorrow. There are bland boring pictures and there are silly ‘selfies‘ taken inthe middle of a night when sleep evaded.

Here are 3 pictures that tell exactly how 18 hours of my day presently go.

Picture 1 – Pain rushes in like an out-of-control freight train. All I can do is squeeze my skull as tightly as possible and strap in for the ride.

Picture 2 – Accept that it is what it is. Unstoppable, untreatable pain. Let the tears flow – they earned their journey.

Picture 3 – Recover. No time for this to be stealing moments that are best held for love and joy. Cry it out. Hold my head high and dance in my Light.

I am an Urban Viking. The last of the Canadian Cosmonauts.

Cancer is soon to be dumbfounded when I kick it’s demonic ass into the dust of Hell whence it came.

I had a double session of radical radiation therapy every morning and another double set every afternoon for 20 days. 80 treatments, 20 days.

STRAPPED DOWN – MY VERY FIRST TREATMENT

Amazing technology

GRADUATION DAY!!!

I kept my mask. A gentle, but stark reminder of this “Walk With Dann.”

March 2, 2019 4a.m.- My spleen literally exploded. I bled out. I was brought back.

The surgeon and various doctors could only say one word to describe the recovery and my being alive.

“MIRACLE”

“Valhalla does not wish for my company and Helheim has a Peace Bond on me.”

I will post a few more similar blogs such like this one.

To add a face to my “Diary of An Old Man With The C”.

Until then I shall be wruting in the two works I have in ‘progress’.

I want to leave behind my story for my future generations to understand who and why I was placed upon this beautiful blue marble.

Till then,

Adieu

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Kapitulation

Many have surely noticed by now that my emotions and writings are up and down more than elevator at a tourist attraction.

I apologize for that.

I am going through so much, … too much, for me to quell the demons.

I apologize.

I never expected that by my becoming a victim of cancer it would cost me all the things most dear to me.

My home = gone

My son = gone

My dogs = gone

My truest love = gone

My physical body = gone

My innermost soul = gone

It has to be me. Every day it’s the same subliminal accusations. So, I must be doing some sort of low life activity that I am unaware of.

It’s the only logical explanation.

In my day, it was said that if someone constantly accuses you of doing something then it was THEY who are hiding secrets.

I do not believe that either, though.

I feel like a damn broken recording, but, I will repeat this one more time :

I may be a dangerous man, a killer, a thief, a biker, a nomad. BUT ….. I never lie about how truly I love someone. Only a low life piece of crap would play with another souls emotions. It is one of the worse things you can do to anyone – playing Russian roulette with their hearts and souls.

Cancer is evil. It takes control over your family and close friend’s emotions and tries to wreak havoc every way it may.

Often it wins and destroys the patient and his/her family ties.

Many marriages fall apart due to the complexity of what comes with a cancer diagnosis.

I am tired, very tired. Mainly emotionally, but very much physically, also.

I have had so much happen in the past two years.

Fall and winter 2017/2018 – nine surgeries on my kidneys, and bladder.

Removed my gall bladder.

One third of my liver removed.

Spring 2018 – repair and replace part of the hardwear holding my right foot together.

Followed shortly thereafter by yet another heart attack.

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Summer 2018 – seizures started. It was determined they are being caused by residual damaged from when they removed C2, C3, C5 and C6 vertebrae and the spinal cord and brain damage from the shattered neck.

Fall 2018 – shot in the leg by a nice black man on Dawes Road. Wrong place at the right time.

Early October diagnosed with Pharyngeal carcinoma, Stage 4 – 19 tumors in my head, neck and upper chest area.

Exactly one week to the day I received the diagnosis of the Squamous Cell carcinoma, it also is Stage 4. One very large tumor on the base of my tongue and one smaller tumor on either side 3 close to my heart and 3 additional ones in the frontal lobe area of my beautiful brain.

Both cancers too far past conventional treatments.

My two options consisted of complete removal of my tongue and most everything in my neck cavity

or

take part in a human trial and complete a very radical and complex series of radiation therapy.

Hence, I chose the latter.

January 2019 – while hospitalized for treatments they found an extremely large existing abscess in my lower abdominal cavity.

This abscess was existing for Lords know how long and was not related to the cancers or previous conditions. 

One week after the removal of the abscess I had a drain tube malfunction that tore up more of my intestines and such. It manifested into a full blown septicemia battle. Almost died twice during the battle to survive.

February 2019 – after being home only two nights on February 2nd my spleen explodes in my sleep and I bleed out. Eventually I would go through 8 litres of my rare blood. But for the grace of God I am still here today.

Miraculously, they kept me alive and I was able to get discharged from the Micheal Garron Hospital and re-admitted to Princess Margaret Cancer Hospital.

March 1st 2019 – I successfully finished the radical radiation sessions.

Very successful in killing the both types of tumors.

Or so we had thought ……..

April 2019 – 7 Squamous Cell tumors return.

Come May 6th, 2019 I will receive a complete and more complex updated diagnosis of my situation.

Until then, I remain, Dann – just as I am.

Broken

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Deep Thoughts

Emotions run deep with aging. Things matter more as your aged body reminds your brain that time is slithering down the drainpipe of life.

I find myself experiencing moments that often well my eyes with tears. Be they of joy or of sadness, they appear frequently.

I have become an emotional senior.

A simplistic hug from my grown child, a smile from a grandchild, watching my nephews with their daughters or just sharing a coffee with a friend fills my heart with a warmth like no other.

All my life I was known as a”tough guy” and in many ways I may have well been such.

I can only say that I perceive myself as a mere man who – due to leaving home at a very young age – learned that life is survival of the fittest. So perhaps I inherent acquired “tough guy facades”.

I am extremely tough within myself. Physical pain is my souls equivalent of an Oreo cookie is to my taste buds.

I have the ability to withstand the highest thresholds of physical pain you could imagine.

I fear not pain. I have had far too many surgeries to accept pains tangy bite.

Mental anguish, however, rips me to pieces. Never used to, though.

This is yet another newly acquired curse brought up by the aging of the body and mind. The “Maturity of Self”, if you will.

Aging and I are at ends. I see no friendship developing between us. I find aging to be an ignorant, pushy, son of a bitch. It would be best to step aside and return me my full head of hair.

I like bunnies. They are cute, but can be viscous little creatures. It being Easter, many a bunny will be suffering in a short period. Victims of someone’s idea of a “cute” Easter present.

Cute until either let loose to fend for themselves or orphaned to the nearest Society for the Prevention of Animal Cruelty.

Poor bunnies. I like bunnies.

Don’t like insects. Little frackers make me itch. Big time! Worse than the skin condition I caught off of that East Indian girl in junior high school. But, I do not think we should speak of that any further.

I love loving. It is the one life long “habit” that does not fade away as our facial wrinkles grow deep. Love feels the same or greater with each day.

For it is as real as all the other emotions that form our individual personalities.

The most important of all emotions.

I respect aging. Can’t be stopped. Persistent till the end. You must respect that determination. I will compromise. We will live side by side within the boundaries of my persona.

I am fighting two cancers. I almost lost the first round.

A stroke, an abscess from Hell, septicemia attack, my spleen exploding and resulting in my bleeding almost completely out – – – all the while having two double sessions of radical radiation per day.

I live a very strange life while existing in a strange society.

And I like bunnies and a fiesty woman.

Tumors Are Back With A Vengeance

I received my test results.

It’s confirmed. The cancer is winning.

Big time.

Payout is about two months away.

I won round 1 only to be sucker punched into a Round 2.

I am emotional to say the least.

The bastard got me. Hook, line and sinker. Or so it believes!

I can’t stand up to face Round 2 without a referee. My referee will be my Faith.

If it is to be a clean fight I will need a few well placed right hooks, or we will go down fast.

Cancer doe snot fight a clean fight.

Cancer is a dirty fighter.

I will have to fight as a true Urban Viking and utilize whatever I may to bring this wretched , demonic dease to it’s knees.

I am “The Original Urban Viking” , as such it is up to me to lay the ground rules for future Urban Vikings, who may follow and have to fight for their very lives.

The most important rule to fighting cancer is to not be afraid to cry or laugh.

You will be scared. No one fighting these battles can say they were/are not afraid.

YOU ARE FACING DEATH!!!!

There will be days when you beg your Creator to just take you and end your suffering.

DO NOT GIVE IN TO THIS NEGATIVITY!!!!

There will also be days that you are smiling and ready for whatever is tossed unto your lap.

You will have emotional days where as you feel you have lost all your manhood or womanhood. Days where the mirror becomes your enemy as you realize that you look like a holocaust survivor. Where you do not recognize the poor soul in the mirror.

Just bear in mind that you can recover. It will take time. A long time. But, you will recover.

My recent test results surprised me. I was not expecting such a severe diagnosis. I expected bad, but not horrible.

I committed the biggest mistake in a cancer battle ….

I let my guard down and allowed hope to give me a false feeling of a battle already won.

This leaves me in the uncomfortable position of choosing which remedy best suits my recovery.

Option one:.

Death within 2 months. Not acceptable!

Option 2:

Another round of heavy duty radical radiation. No one else has survived.

On my right shoulder I have a cute white winged Angel telling me to follow them.

Her remedy was to pass the bucket on the left hand side and, thanks to the miracles of modern medicine, ingest large quantities of radiation. With no guarantee other than months of discomfort.

Of which my chance of being cured lay at a measly 7 percent survivor rate.

On my left shoulder stands a drunken mini version of a Keebler Elf with tossed salad in his hair.

His remedy was to allow the Winds of Change and Darkness to take as much time as they need to devour my frontal lobes.

Totally unacceptable.

Which would you choose?

I opted for allowing Nature to attack at her wish.

I will counterattack with all my resources. The human body is an amazing machine and with the right positive attitude is capable of much that modern medicine cannot explain.

My surviving the first round of this battle is living proof of this.

To quote my team of doctors,

Only words to describe my winning so far is ‘Miracle’.”

I have to wait now.

Patiently.

For Ascension.

To put this in “Layman terms”:

I got two cancers. First we thought we were winning. This was a ‘hope’.

I know I am far stronger than most believe. More than I even believe.

I will do what I must to stay alive. The only thing I will absolutely refuse is disfiguring surgeries.

For, I am The Original Urban Viking and Valhalla is not ready for me. Helheim is afraid of me.

I will go down head held high and my axe swinging.

Frack cancer.

I choose life!

How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?

How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?

Tears are the measurement of emotional pain.

Love teaches various hurts via the trials and tribulations of a new and advancing relationship

Deeply, madly and truly.

I have been alive 61 years, 6 months and 12 days. I have had my heart demolished and my soul spilt into the gutter more times than any person could withstand.

One of the top priorities in my daily prayer sessions is my six plus decades of begging the Creator for a day, one meager 24 hour time slot, where I do not hurt or cause hurt to someone else.

The two cancer diagnosis,

the stroke,

the abscess from Hell,

the following septicemia battle.

Top that off with an exploded spleen and by the Lords of Donegul I swear you will have a uniquely, traumatic story to tell.

By estimate I can safely say I have cried an Imperial gallon of heartbroken tears in the past 5 months. Or so it seems. Either way it’s suffice to say I cried an enormous quantity of tears.

Of which, ninety-nine percent I have no knowledge why they come.

This causes me to lose a little more of my already drained genetic interpretation of manhood.

I am trapped in the gray brink of Darkness. As I try to get into the Beacon of Light I slide increasingly deeper into the Dark.

I am afraid of THAT darkness. Nothing good can come from within it’s demonic fog.

Definitely not the tears. They are tears of a 61 year old man. One who lived a tragic but full life.

My being raised in the latter 50’s and 60’s gifted me with a learned, but unwanted red neck rampage attitude towards a relationship.

Sprinkle that with the chauvinistic and bigoted attitudes of that era and you will see how it did my young pubescent self no good.

I left my father’s home at the age of 12. I have never slept in my Father’s, nor my Mother’s, home since. This alone should show testimony as to the dancing pool of hormones and rebellions in my mind.

I didn’t cry then.

I never cried.

No.

Not through the beatings.

The tortures.

Nor the loveless foster homes.

I definitely was that boy. The one who WON’T cry.

I am crying now, though. I do not know why.

I am just crying (again).

I was lonely most of my life. The “Stranger in a Strange Land“. The boy who refused to cry. No matter what was hurting him.

To put it in layman’s lingo:

“I have been lonely since October 5th, 1957. I will be even more lonely come October 5th, this year.”

I have been battling personal demons all my live long days. I have never shed as many tears in a few week period as I have shed these past five weeks.

This causes me grief. Greatly.

I developed insomnia – seems to have patterned itself into four days of being wide awake and one day of rest. Leaving my mind to ask,

How many tears does it take to fill a broken heart?”

I am a starving author – (literally)

That calls for a weakened physical state and a mind full of swirling emotions. All of which give the Dark entranceway to the control room of my LightHouse. The demon tries his best to win, but each prayer are bullets of Light.

Especially since I have had to fight the Demon of Suicide 24 hours each day since my beloved spleen exploded and left me crying in the rain.

My last few posts show how I have crawled backwards.

I am trying to bounce back. It’s hard. I am not sure I want to be here.

I fear not Death. Not in the least.

Sad to actually say that.

I would not try suicide. Since my brother committing such I was quickly schooled on being a survivor.

Also, August 22, 2002 I succeeded in killing myself. After a four hour battle in my basement to revive and to stabilize my body, I now sit here before you.

Poring out my inner thoughts and my broken moments. My soul with all it’s hidden secrets would lay before you.

A guess would be that one who cries this many tears is depressed beyond depression. Sad beyond sadness.

Yet, it’s a truth.

I cry still.

I wish I knew the real reason.

I am tired. So very tired.

Physically.

Mentally.

Emotionally I am the sinking of the Bismark.

I am done venting on you.

I am too old to be crying.

Yet …….. I am crying once again and even still shall I cry forever more.

My only regret is I know not THE REAL REASON I have this half full bucket of silent tears.

Perhaps the 2 stage 4 cancers?

Maybe because I am single.

Or maybe my loneliness.

Or because I am realizing that I am not considered as Maria’s “man“. That we aren’t on any channel.

To be officially known as her “man” would be an honor. I would be the happiest man ever.

But, the Darkness has prevented that.

It may very well be that I am dying.

Any how …

I am crying real tears.

Perhaps even the tears of a clown.

I Am Scared

Was all excited yesterday when I heard I was soon to go home, (Thursday), then an hour later, BAM!!!

I was a completely different person.

Very ill, extremely lathargic, dizzy, confused and in pain beyond comprehension.

I slept from one in the afternoon yesterday till 6 this morning. How does anyone sleep 17 hours?

Doctors are increasing my Fentanyl to 75 milligrams. “To make me comfortable ” was their words. I have found in the past that when doctors say such things to patients with terminal illnesses, what they really mean is they won’t let you die in pain.

I am not being paranoid. I was told from the get go that my chances of survival were slim. For 2 months I have heard everyday how everyone is amazed I have “made it” this far. Add in the constant use of words like make me comfortable, use as much pain medication as I feel I need, and then there are the constant “team meetings”.

And yesterday they asked how I felt about going into a hospice. No one walks out of a hospice.

All this makes you think the worse.

I have asked for a case conference later today because if what I suspect is true just send me home to be with my dogs.

But, I won’t know for sure until they all get at the same table and tell me. It’s hard when there are so many professionals involved. 2 regular oncologists, 2 radiation oncologists, 1 ENT surgeon, a whole team of pain palative care and five or six others from dieticians, physio and psychology.

Until then all I can do is pray and pray I will.

For Those Who Wonder Where I Have Been

As most of you know in late October I was diagnosed with Squamous Cell Carcinoma and Pharyngeal Cancer.

Due to the advance stage conventional chemotherapy and radiation were off the table.

My only options being surgery to completely remove my tongue, larynx and most everything else within my neck or radical radiation treatments twice a day for 20 days and see what the result would be.

I, of course, opted for the radiation. I began treatment in early December.

I had to have a gastric feeding tube implanted as I would definitely need it as treatment progressed.

I was doing well until early January when I developed a very large abscess in my lower abdominal cavity between my stomach and muscles.

Mind you, this abscess had nothing whatsoever to do with the cancers or the feeding tube. It just decided to appear and grow and grow.

The fine surgeons here at Princess Margaret Cancer Hospital immediately dealt with the demon infection. Part of the process involved inserting a necessary draining tube.

If it were not for bad luck I would have no luck at all.

Hence, I had many complications from the drainage tube requiring me to spend most of January in the hospital.

Fortunately, I was still receiving my radiation therapy as per scheduled.

The infection took a fair amount of time to get cleared up and by the end of January 2019 I was declared infection free and discharged to home.

I would resume my radiation therapy as an outpatient as per the original plan of care. I was so happy to finally get to go home after almost a whole month of hospitalization.

I arrived home February first. Very sore, but happy.

I slept well the first night. The second night I had a slight pain in my back but I put that off as getting used to sleeping on my own bed instead of the hospital bunk.

I am not sure what time I woke up that morning.

What I am sure of is that I woke to the most excruciating pain you could possibly imagine.

The pain was so intense I could not even scream for help. I literally had to call to the next room to wake my good friend who was watching over me.

I honestly thought I was going to die.

Immediately she called 911 and within minutes I was in an ambulance with a police escort rushing me to the nearest hospital at full speed.

All I remember about the ambulance ride was the EMS man telling the driver they had mere minutes to get me to surgery. My blood pressure was 49 over 43.

I passed out.

Next memory was surreal – I was in an elevator, someone was cutting my shirt off and I heard the surgeon say,

I have to open him right now.”

I felt the scalpel cutting through my abdomen and I saw my blood covering everyone in the elevator.

I passed out.

I awoke many hours later in ICU.

Surrounded by my family and dearest loved ones. I was not sure if I was alive or dead. But, when I blinked my eyes, everyone single one of them cried and I knew I had survived something very serious.

My spleen had literally exploded. Like a small nuclear bomb.

Apparently I had lost almost all my blood – if not for my living so close to a hospital I definitely would not be here to author this blog.

I spent one week in the Michael Garron Hospital in East York, Toronto. Bless the surgeons there for saving my life.

I was then discharged from there do I could go into Toronto General Hospital as an in-patient and then transferred across the street to Princess Margaret Cancer Hospital where I am now.

It sounds complicated but Toronto General, Princess Margaret, Mount Sinai and a few other medical facilities are all side by side and part of the same University Health Network and also connected to The University Toronto.

I am in one of the highest rated cancer hospitals in the world and I am forever thankful that the Creators have given me yet another chance to live.

My road to recovery is going to be a long difficult journey. The spleen is an important organ. Yes, you can live without it, but I need many vaccinations and for the rest of my days I will have to be very vigilant not to get infections and such.

My radiation therapy is back on track and I finish my first series of treatments on March the first. Which is also my oldest son’s birthday – so I take that as an omen of good fortune.

I will write more at some point down the road. I just wanted my followers to know why they haven’t heard from me in a while.

People, look around at your family and friends and let them know how precious they are to you. Life can change in the blink of an eye. Or the pop of a spleen. Never be afraid to tell them you love them.

I am a tough old dude with very tough masculine friends and I have no qualms hugging them, kissing them and saying, “I love you Brother. “

The greatest gift I received from this disaster was seeing my dearest and most close friend standing there with love and joy in his eyes when I blinked that first blink. To see my sons faces fill with relief when I spoke.

Life is a precious gift and to have life and love together cannot be matched by any other thing.

Namaste’

I Cannot ‘DO’ This

I have tried and tried to keep myself on the positive side of all this.

I knew if I were to start crying the tears wouldn’t stop.

I realize now that there is no positive side.

And the tears will not stop.

For where lays the positive side of dying a slow, very painful death?

Show me.

My Maria Angelica M who had said she would always be there for me through out this has up and walked away.

Her false vows of love meant nothing to her – easy to say, but much to me on this tearful darkened day.

Her anger misplaced on my shoulders leaving a trail of blame on my heart.

I am losing my home. I have no time to find a place before months end.

I have lost my beloved Maria Angelica M or perhaps she has lost me.

I have the love of Roy, Dakota, Lisa, Randy & Emma in my immediate life.

I have the extended love of family & my many friends.

But, as I have feared, the tears are here and they just will not stop.

Where is that shoulder to cry on Maria Angelica M?

Oh yes, I forgot.

They were texted with false nailed fingers and etched onto my heart.

Some falsehood testimonials of how we would never be apart.

I discovered one lie after another and and the blame you sent to my heart.

Your love and devotion were quite easily redirected and here is the saddest part.

Your reason for running to another was the most hurtful part.

It took you but one minute to easily rip out my heart and here I do quote the answer you sent to me and destroyed this foolish heart.

I “pissed you off so you turned around”. and abandoned me for your love was a lie from the start.

I needed that shoulder to cry on. But in your deceit towards me you had already found some other arms to hold you so lovingly sweet.

I was shown by a mutual friend and saw through my own eyes on your Facebook these words you did speak.

They were not written for me, but another love in your life.

You may as well etched them with a knife for they have scarred my broken heart.

I needed your false love, if only to get through this one storm.

Then like the many other times in six years you could roam night after night.

And once again leave me crying at home for yet one more night.

I needed that shoulder. I needed your false love, if only to get through this one storm.

For a false love is better than no love when your whole world has fallen apart.

Now, like the skies out this hospital window, my very heart and soul have turned stormy and dark.

For …..

These tears are too real and the pain is too great.

For this broken man named Dann whose soul needs a break.

These tears are embarrassing as I sit here on display.

And pray to the Creator above to take me this day.

I will cross into oblivion when Death has her way.

How easy it was to deceive me with the words of love you say.

I know I sound foolish and broken for believing the love you did say.

I was raised never to say I love you unless the love would forever stay.

I cannot stop loving you forever more each day.

For my love is more real than your hurtful display.

#LightHouseDannVerner #FuckCancer

D-day 4 Dann

I have cancer on my mind.

Literally ….. true story.

As I previously wrote, I have been diagnosed with ‘oropharyngeal cancer’ in the neck and my cranium.

Which has migrated into my skull proper.

Hence soon, if not already, ‘brain cancer‘.

So,

Deja Vu.

Once again it’s 4:20AM and here I sit, awake. Day 4 without sleep.

The physical pain is insane.

Yet, my broken ‘heart’ & ‘spirit’ are far worse.

I cried all last night over a personal matter and the stress of waiting for the upcoming news.

And, Deja Vu.

Here I sit crying like a pussy once again.

The second night in a row.

Mostly over the personal matter of learning that I am being perceived as ‘dishonest’ and a liar regarding my vows of love & of friendship.

I am or have been a murderer, a robber, a gangster, a thief and an idiot.

BUT a dishonest lover I am not, nor could I ever be.

I was self-raised on these streets since the age of 12.

I learned young that your ‘Love’ for your partner MUST be true and definitely sincere. You cannot say that you love someone and then cheat or lie to them.

I take pride in my loyalty, my love, my devotion and most of all my ‘HONESTY’. These are the cornerstones of any couple.

Anyone who knows me well knows I am not dishonest. I do not, have not, nor would I ever ‘cheat’.

I know the pain that inflicts all too well.

I am not dishonest in love.

I don’t lie about my emotions.

Nor would I play with the heart of anyone – friend or foe.

Who would want to claim a false love as real love” ?

No soul has the right to do such an evil thing. No person should ever damage another person in such a sadistic manner.

Many people contort the definition of “love”.

I learned very young that if you say something it should be sincere and honest.

I love my ‘Queen’.

The love I have for her cannot be shared with anyone else. I have given her all my heart. As you are supposed to when you swear your love.

She is my true soul mate, my lover, she’s my best friend. She is “mi Corazon“.

And one Corazon is all you get.

I have many friends.

The majority being females. Guys are idiots. My circle is a triangle.

I tell them both, male or female, that I love them all the time. I do love them. They are my friends.

But, not the way I “love” mi Corazon.

Definitely not in a sexual way.

It is not that type of “love”. It’s the love you show a ‘true friend’.

A completely different type of love.

Secondly,

My tears also have been falling as I am coming to the realization that I may have to face that ‘final‘ ….

Walk With Dann” .

That torturous, downward spiral of pain ending in the horrific death of cancer eating my brain like an invisible zombie.

61 years of hurt I endured so far.

The majority via a broken heart. Time after time. Over and over.

I don’t fear loving just because I have been a victim of dishonesty.

You cannot punish your future for what your past ‘has’ done. (Key word being ‘HAS’).

I am tired. Very, very tired.

Not sure if I should try to battle this battle or succumb to the depression and sadness perched upon my shoulders.

Death would be so relaxing. I know first hand.

You can’t cry over being perceived as a dishonest person when you are dead.

For to live and share your honest, deepest feelings to people who do not believe a word you speak is a real ‘Hell’.

Read my ‘Walk With Dann Collection’. I explain how your perception of ‘Heaven & Helheim’ are not as you are taught or even perceive them to be.

I am tired of adult life.

I am very, very, very tired.

And now it is D DAY 4 Dann

Later today I will receive either the worse news anyone would wish to hear,

or, perhaps the medium bad news stating a long list of parts to be removed,

or, good news saying that they can remove all the cancer and I shall live lonely ever after.

Yahoo!!!!!!

Good news for some people … not so much me.

I am tired.

Very tired.

I am all alone in a crowded room.

That room called ‘life‘.

And I am tired.

As we say in Nazarim, “Hineni”

“I’m ready my Lord”.

Life‘ number 8 was far more painful the my 7 times ‘dead‘.

I have mixed emotions over the cancer and what course of action I should follow.

Right now 70% of me is saying to refuse all and every treatment, come home, sit on my favourite chair and wait for death.

I want to.

I am not ‘living‘ – I am merely ‘existing’.

I am tired of existing.

30% of me hopes everything will workout and I will be happy.

But, how can a man perceived by his truest love as a liar and dishonest man find reasoning to fight has third battle with the demon desease?

And I am tired, very tired.

I guess I will find the answer to that question in exactly five hours and sixteen minutes.

Life has to have meaning. My dictionary of life is completely used up.

I honestly do not wish to go on existing without meaning.

No matter what, I have had a 61 year wild Nantucket Sleigh ride through every walk of life there is.

And now …….

I am tired.

I look forward to Valhalla or Helheim.

Be it sooner or much later.

I will smile as I enter either.

For then my heart will no longer hurt, nor my eyes bleed tears of heart ache.

I am an honest man. I believe strongly I am.

And I would never cheat on a soul I pledged my heart to.

I have a huge decision to make today.

It’s a literal ‘life or death‘ choice I must make.

At this time I am leaning towards ‘no treatment’.

We will see what happens at the hospital.

I am tired and I want to go home.

Plus, I ain’t looking so well …

Diagnosis: Cancer In The Neck And Head

So,since June, 2018 my throat increasingly grew more irritated and sore to the point I could no longer stand it.

On October 22, 2018 I saw an ENT specialist.

Diagnosis: cancer in my neck and head.

I fought the Big C demon twice before in my life.

1999 till 2002 I battled liver cancer. I was scared.

I just had my neck re-built. A result of thirty years of demolition, building and a very rough lifestyle. Followed by many motorcycle accidents and an industrial accident.

They did a complete dissection of my C2, C3, C5 & C6 vertebrae. Replacing them with bone donated from my right hip and Semple plates, screws, nuts & bolts.

And then the Creators slapped me with liver cancer.

Yet, I beat that Beast.

In 2005, the Beast demanded a re-match. This time it was gnawing on my bones.

Chewing up the hip I had donated bone from for the previous neck surgery.

Then attacking my few remaining teeth. Leaving me with six remaining.

As if not enough, it then chewed up my right foot resulting in it, too, needing to be completely re-built.

So, I beat that damn Beast again.

Now fast forward to present day…..

What I had hoped was merely a “sore” throat has turned out to be a collection of cancerous tumors on my tonsils, adenoids, lymph nodes and migrating towards my brain.

As I write this I am awaiting a CT scan and a following surgery. It shall hopefully be within the next two weeks.

They will be removing the afore mentioned parts and perhaps more – including my thyroid.

This does not trouble me. That would be the migration of tumors working their way towards my brain.

I like my brain. It’s iconic and extremely unique. Plus, we are very attached. Been together since my birth.

I only weight one hundred pounds with my clothes on. I jokingly say that my body is built like a rock band, “Nine Inch Nails” – for that is the size of my biceps.

It took 61 years to break this body.

You could go to the gym everyday and never be built like me.

I can barely eat. My esophagus is being pinched closed by the swelling organs and tumors within my throat.

My head aches beyond the pain of a severe migraine. I shed tears and find myself whimpering when I have solitary solitude. My nights are long.

I refused chemotherapy and radiation. It would definitely kill me if I were to attempt it

So, I will beat this damn Beast one more time.

I have to. My sons need me, I need them.

Mi fuego de mi Alma, mi Reina de mi Corazon would be broken hearted if the Beast should win.

I love her beyond love. I cannot allow her to suffer a broken heart. What type of person would break their closest love’s heart?

You can feel our love emanating from us in this picture.

I CANNOT LET MY BODY SUCCUMB TO THE RAVAGES OF CANCER!

HOW COULD I BREAK MY FAMILY AND LOVED ONE’S HEARTS?

And also, my other dearest loves. My constant companions, Princess Pringle and her sister, Princess Ruffles. They would surely fall I’ll in sorrow.

Sooooooo, I have a battle ahead of me. I am ready.

I have love from so many people – my kids, my ex-wife, my soulmate Maria, my very close nephews and true friends

I will beat this Demon.

It is just going to hurt.

Lol

But, she will be by my side. And I will receive healing from her love.

I am afraid, but I am also brave.