Old Man With The ‘C’

With every one hunkered down due to the Covid 19 pandemic I figured we all have time to read.

I am having a FREE eBook giveaway of my “Old Man With the ‘C’ – A Cancerous Walk With Dann’ which shows my 15 month battle with my non treatable Squamous Cell Carcinoma.

All proceeds of the paperback and eBook format go to Princess Margaret Cancer Centre.

We all have time to read, so help support a starving author.

To save you all money I did a second edition of my fictional series “Walking On Dawes Collection” and made a 3 books in 1.
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I also have done this with my autobiographical series “Walk With Dann Collection”. All 4 books in one. eimage

I am writing my son’s, Jordan, biography. On Christmas morning 2019 he ended his short 29 years of life and his story must be told.

I hope to have it published by the end of the month. It is titled, “Black Diamond”.

I also have 3 fictional books I am working on,
“Eye” – a collection of short stories.

“Ponderings” – a collection of randomness and opinions

And I am almost done my fictional volume, “That’s My Good Eye, Jimi” – a story of 4 Irish Canadian lads growing up in the South End of Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada.

Clips

There is always a bright side to every dark side.

Life is like a series of storms – some small others big.

All you have to remember is that no matter what kind of storm it is……

Be it a tired mature body depressed in a corner.

Or perhaps it could be a Blessing of some Healing Light.

The Darkness will creep in through pathways created from your fear, depression and/or anxiety.

No matter how Dark your thoughts

REACH OUT TO SOMEONE

REMEMBER IT IS ALWAYS
SUNNY ABOVE THE CLOUDS
.

That is why we “soar upwards towards the Heavens.

It is why I am “LightHouse“.

Shining my beacon of Light to those of need. Even though I am in desporate need myself.

Being homeless again

I live a Light Keepers life. Solitary man in a crowded room with a false smile and little hope

The kind soul masking their physical and emotional pain so as they can put a smile on a needed face.

I have, at times, put my pain aside so as I could assist others. Many times actually.

We need to teach our youth that the pen, the almighty keyboard and the glorious internet are weapons of mass social change.

That violence needs to take a break. It shall never be fully gone. It is a genetic survival type of thing

This is a modern time and a time like no other. It is a desprate time for mankind for we are declining into global chaos and all parties involved are feeding the fire.

The world wide insanity of these past few years has turned the logical way of life. upsidedown.

Children – young children – no longer have morning Prayer but they can sit at the age of 5 or 6 and learn about gender this or that.

A time of man where you can go to jail for touching your first breast 42 years prior.

A time to fight our neighbours in debates.

Not in the sewers of our infrastructure.

The suicide rates are climbing rapidly in Canada.

Our First Nation’s children live in dispair and poverty of a third world nation.

They have been plagued with suicides of many of their youth. Some the tender age of 10 or 11.

Why?

I wish I knew the answer because Christmas Morning 2019 my 29 year old son hung himself.

Suicide only makes you think it is truly the only answer. The damage and pain it causes is far, far lasting and will bring a lifelong agony for loved ones and friends.

I am speaking first hand here. I fight the suicide demon daily.

Isolating can only give the Dark thoughts free reign of very ability to see due to your choice to hide.

We are on our 5th generation of Babies having babies.

Suicide rates are rising world wide.

There are many little electrical trucks driving, floating in our heads; that work together collectively as a unit, thus giving us the ability to be constantly connected to our internal computer and the processing knowledge.

Problem being we have filled it with many misleading false forms of information.

It is instinct. Instinct that also is struggling for survival itself.

They no longer teach cursive writing.

Nor home econmics.

Adult society is nerve racking on the best of days, but, it also is not being taught to our youth. One might think it would be wise to “prepare” them for “adulthood“.

Just a thought. ……………

Our technology has us held hostage.

Forever chasing the next “g” highspeed internet connection.

Like an old vigina pirate chasing the g-string in the strippers club.

And most of these generations will be swallowed up.

Spending their lives trying to get off “Welfare” and on to the higher paying “Ontario Disibility Support Program“.

Forever to follow the ass in front of them as a good SHEEPLE should.

Living the learned Sheeple” attitude.

Forever dancing to the beat of an unknown drummer.

Obeying a triblistic hypnotic brain washing.

Every one is rushing to the next thing they will rush from.

Not often are they willing to Uber their asses home and prepare meal as family.

A meal made with love.

To sit at the table with no electronics and eat, drink and be merry with your closest loved ones. A Blessing of life with each childs smile.

A way to slowly re- install family values and teach them to take ownership of their rights and their wrongs. To teach them the value of communication.

The greatest joy to is to realize family is number one.

By the end of washing the dishes after such a fine sit down meal you will feel a special moment that your brain will file away in the recess of your mind till need be it requested.

A “Kodak Moment” as they say in my age.

The end result of what society has changed is a family structure that has been disolving into a cesspool of five consectutive “lost generations

Of babies raising babies and we have allowed it.

As seen a few times in recorded history, when the human population grows to the extent it will deplete Earth’s resources, an event of mass destruction will happen.

Hello Corona Virus 2020!

Could be a flood from the completely melted pole caps.

Or. …..

Hopefully it is a gigantic solar flare that disrupts our digital world and then society will see first hand how greatly we have NOT raised our youth.
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My life has been a year and few months of fighting my non treatable cancer and burying a loved one almost every two weeks.

And my baby hangs himself.

After hours talking to me from Alberta to home here in Toronto.

He assured me all was good.

He was sober and we talked about shows and sci fi.

He was fine. Till he did it.

You cannot lay blame on someone for a suicide.

The only one to blame is the person who made the wrong choice.

Like my eldest brother or my best friend.

Both by hanging.

I have a somewhat type of closure since we had Jordan’s Celebration of Life.

Suicide takes not only the life of the victim, but also of your truly loved ones.

Suicide kills families.

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Even if you think your anxiety or whatever affliction you have been burdened with is insignificant, Reach out – frack being nervous or afraid.

Reach out to whoever you must.

To box it all in is a definite mistake big time.

Do not give the Darkness of your life the opportunity to cloud your logical side.

Soar above that and reach out for help.

Living Angels are in many places.

With many faces.

When you need yours they will come.

The losing of your child, no matter what their age, cannot be compared to any other pains.

I will leave you now in Hope and in my Prayers. If you are having serious depression or anxiety or just need an ear and a shoulder,

REACH OUT REACH OUT.

SOAR ABOVE THE STORM CLOUDS.

FOR IT IS ALWAYS A SUNNY GLORIOUS DAY ABOVE AND STORMY CLOUD

So sayeth LightHouse Dann Verner.

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Final Preparations For Jordan’s Celebration of Life

Final Preparations For Jordan’s Celebration of Life

February the first is just about here. A day I dread. The day my wife, Jennifer, my oldest son, Randy, my youngest son, Dakota must say our farewell to our son and their brother.

For those who have asked, here are the details and location of the Service and Reception. Saturday, February 1, 2020 at 4 PM – 7 PM at the Canadian Legion Hall Number 73, 2 Robinson Avenue, Toronto, (Danforth Avenue and Danforth Road)


Anxiety is high for the family.
I am worried for my wife.

She has been staying strong as she can.
Yet, I know how she feels inside. I know she is hiding ninety-nine percent of her pain. She is brave that way. Forget not that she is also watching me slowly deteriorate. Everyday wondering if this is the day Dann passes from his cancer?
A father’s love is like no other, also, A strong genetic companionship of the Alpha and his Beta’s. `Daddy Know`s Best` so follow your Father and learn to be a good man.

A Mother’s love can only be felt by her.
For nine months our son grew within her, sharing her very life giving oxygen and nutrients, reading each others minds.
Their bond goes all the way to the genetic and cellular level.

I am worried for Jennifer and I will be here when the need arises for I have never left her in the emotional sense. Of course I love her – I have done so for forty years and always shall.

To see her devastated, sadddened and just broken hearted hurts me. My heart is all I can offer her, except my shoulder and ear.

I was lucky in sort of a way,
I had a large climatic breakdown and needed professional help as for that few days I was out of control and devastated with emotions.
Jennifer has not released the enormous volume of sorrow she is holding within. I believe that the Creator allowed me to still be living so as I will be here for my family.
I certainly will do my best to be here.

Jordan and Randy in the East Coast for their Grandfather’s Funeral

I will try to stay positive and stand tall in this hurricane of life we are facing.

After all, I am a “LIGHTHOUSE” so it is my destiny to Shine my Beacon so as to bring others to Safety, Peace and the safety of Life.

I just wish I could have succeeded in helping my son more than I had. Maybe, he would be sitting here with me if I had ………………

I am publishing this to help alleviate the turmoil in my mind and prevent the Darkness to cloud my mind. When I cannot “Reach Out To Someone“, I write.

When I can do neither – I cry – and then I cry a while more – then I bawl until my tears have dried.

I cry both the tears of losing my son, the sorrow and the despair. I , also, cry happy tears for the love and joy Father and Son shared during his brief time here with us.

The Fear of Cancer

Not often I have ‘fear‘.

I have it now. I fear that I may not beat this cancer.

I was diagnosed on October 22nd, 2018, with Pharyngeal and Squamous Cell Carcinoma. Stage four.

I was past the ability to be treated via chemotherapy and conventional radiation. My only three options were let nature take her course or surgery to remove my complete tongue and lymph nodes (leaving me with zero quality of life) or receive radical aggressive radiation.

I chose the latter. Receiving a double session twice per day for twenty days. The actual treatment was easy. Just lay down, strapped in a cage and a mere fifteen minutes listening to Pink Floyd as the machine’s robotic arms did their task.

I was pleased when on March the first I completed the therapy and was told it had succeeded in killing all the tumors.

What I didn’t understand at that time was the worse part comes after the therapy. As the tumors diminished the damage from the radiation and cancer surfaces. This, apparently, can go on for up to two years.

My throat swelled and on the exterior turned purple. A side affect of the radiation burn and dying tissues within.

I had a few complications during the course of treatment. I developed a huge abscess in my lower abdominal cavity, possibly from the feeding g-tube implant. It required minor surgery to remove and drain. This was followed by a major battle with septicemia. A battle I thankfully won.

I was released from the Princess Margaret Cancer Center on January 31, 2019. After being hospitalized for twenty seven days. I was glad to be home.

At four in the morning of February the 2nd my spleen exploded. I bled out and have only survived because I live blocks from the Michael Garron Hospital. I was revived. Received four pints of blood, rapid infusion of Ringers lactate, a litre of iron sucrose and twenty nine staples on my abdomen. Complete removal of my spleen.

I spent all of February and half of March in Princess Margaret. My weight dropped down to ninety seven pounds. A far cry from my average one hundred and seventy.

I look like a survivor from a Nazi Death Camp.

I was sent home mid March to complete my treatment as an out-patient.

Things were well at first. I could not swallow most food so I was dependant on six cans of condensed Isosource nutrients to feed my body. I managed to get my weight up to one hundred and twenty-two pounds.

But, a big but, the damage from the tumors and radiation was surfacing more and more. The pain of swallowing increasingly getting worse. To the point I feared swallowing even my saliva.

This I am still plagued with as I write.

My weight loss increased and depression tried to take over my logic. I feared that I would definitely die. I have that fear still, as do my caregivers.

No longer able to function properly I resigned myself to the reality of coming back into the hospital.

Presently, I am hospitalized in the magnificent Toronto General Hospital. A Blessing of living in Toronto with the world class treatment of Toronto General and the adjoined Princess Margaret Cancer Center. Two of the best hospitals worldwide.

If I lived anywhere else I am positive I would not be authoring this blog on this foggy Sunday morning.

I am not sure what is to happen to me next. Neither are my team of doctors.

I have been here a mere few days, having been admitted on the twenty four of May. So, I am awaiting the results of my MRI, CT Scan and numerous other tests.

Tomorrow I have to have minor surgery to re-implant a gastric feeding tube and biopsy of my tongue and throat.

So far my diagnosis is as follows:

1) as my body absorbed the dead tumors it left behind holes, like potholes in a road. These ‘holes‘ have developed ulcers.

2) The ulcers can be one of three types. (A) non-cancerous, (B) Cancerous but treatable and (C) Cancerous non-treatable

3) I am severely malnourished and dehydrated.

Hopefully, by tomorrow evening I will know for sure what battle lays before me.

I am a ‘realist’. Hence, I take things in stride. It is what it is and I will deal with whatever falls my way with logic over emotions.

I also trained myself to always expect the worse possible scenarios. Reason being if I am expecting the worse no matter what my diagnosis is to be it shall be better than what I expected. A small comfort in such a serious situation.

I am not being unrealistic in my expectations. I am in a serious situation.

After many discussions with all my treatment team and my beloved family, I made the difficult decision to put in place a DNR, (Do Not Resuscitate), on my medical record.

This is justified and many tears were shed coming to the decision. It is the best avenue to take considering the condition of my physical form. My bone density is very low which means that if I were to receive CPR my ribs would shatter. Greater risk is that my heart and poor physical condition makes it ninety nine percent positive I will slip into a coma – a coma I will not recover from.

I pray no one ever has to have this discussion with their family. It was/is the most heartbreaking talk I have ever imagined having to have.

Saddest part being the reaction of my family and friends. I, being the patient, fully have accepted that I am knocking on the gates of Valhalla. I did not wish to accept it, but it is what it is.

I also have refused any major surgery that will disfigure and disable me. I refuse wholeheartedly to have my love ones suffer the anguish of watching me whither away, perhaps for weeks or months. That would scar their very souls for life. It would be selfish of me to put them through such.

They understand. They don’t like accepting it, but, once again, it is what it is.

I am not, by far, a ‘religious’ man. I am a man of faith. I believe in a higher, supreme power. Over the past 15 years I have been brought back to life 9 times so far. I wrote about these times previously. It’s suffice to say my life has been full of numerous ups and downs. Often down. It strengthened my personality and outlook on life. To most they would say my life was tragic. I see it as just ‘my life’. Sixty-one and a half years of learning and growth.

So, as it stands today, I have a battle to win. And I shall win because I am surrounded by true caring and love. I have a large group of beautiful souls who have formed a ‘Prayer Army’ on my behalf. Believe or not, but there is a power in prayers. They don’t have to be church indoctrinated chants, but rather sincere and positive praise to whoever you perceive as your Creator.

I am anxious to get the results of the tests tomorrow. The waiting and the fear of what may be is far more disheartening than the cancers themselves. The fear of the unknown instills an anxiety that clouds judgement.

I prefer sunny days over cloudy ones.

So, I will leave you now and I will blog whatever happens next in my wonderful life as soon as I know.

Until then, I remain ‘Dann, just as I am – – – The Original Urban Viking’.

NAMASTE’ MY FRIENDS

And remember to ……

ALWAYS PRAY IT FORWARD

BLESS

Winds of Change, Tides of Emotions

It is very windy tonight. The serene howl of the steady gusts plays nic nac on my back.

This takes my mind off the physical pain.

Yet, I am still tormented by the nagging burn through out my neck.

A mere price to pay for a longer life.

Speaking of which …..

I am having trouble dealing with both ‘life’ and ‘death’.

To be honest, I am not ‘dealing’ with them well at all.

I am an angry, emotional wreck of a once funny man.

I used to laugh as much as possible. Always was able to find the ‘other side of life’ Now, I am not able to find much to laugh about.

It is unfair what the PTSD of a cancer diagnosis does to you and everyone in your life. I believe it is an actual part of the actual desease.

Many of the days and nights that I lay in the hospital bed, I would cry and, often, wish for Death’s Kiss.

Is this world that the we are in worth going through this therapy?”

I will not agree to any surgery that will leave me disfigured or immobile.

Being alone 24 hours a day, in an isolation room, for eleven weeks and on high doses of opiates is NOT good. It steals the ‘Light’ from your soul and replaces it with conspiracy theories and self-destruction.

I am not sure how I survived these past six months. The stroke, the abscess, the septicemia, the exploded spleen all on top of the two cancers.

Doctors only explanation is “a miracle“.

That I do believe as truth.

I have been out of Princess Margaret Cancer Hospital two months today. Seems like years.

The after shocks of the radical radiation treatment are attacking me strongly. The pain is often unbearable.

If I don’t bear it, who shall?

None of this is fair to my loved ones and my dearest friends.

I see the sorrow in their hearts and eyes when they glance at me.

My ex-wife tries her best to hide her tears. My sons are constantly reminding me how greatly they love me.

I am full of self hatred for my allowing cancer into my life. No man wishes such pain and anguish on his family.

In some ways I guess you could say that cancer is a family affliction. For the whole family suffers from it’s demonic stranglehold.

I will die feeling the guilt of bringing pain and sadness to my family.

The girlfriend couldn’t handle it. She chose to believe that I am a liar and am not going to pass.

That was heartbreaking. Yet, she seems to think that I have done this on purpose. An attention grab.

That is sad. For her attitude has assured me that not one single “I love you” that escaped her lips was spoken with truth.

I fear it is more her loss than mine.

My love was honest and true.

I am beginning the second stage of this horrific battle.

Many, many upcoming tests and procedures. Numerous more appointments.

Tons more mind debilitating pain.

I pray.

Often.

I place all my woes in the hands of my Creator.

And I pray.