Do My Testicle Look Swollen Because They Just Got Kicked Again

They say, whoever “they” are, that love is blind.

Well by God I must have been walking into quite a few walls these past 6 years.

I have closure now.

Actually I think the door slammed my ass because I didn’t move fast enough.

My biggest fear now is going to be will I lose trust in all women who say they love me?

Not in a friendship way because Lord knows I have plenty of female friends, more females than males.

I mean in a relationship way.

I have no desire to date again anyways but I also do not want to become a bitter old women hater of a man.

Looking back 7 years I had vowed never to date again, but one day in our hallway she glanced at me and her smile stirred something in my very soul.

I have been many a bad type of person over the years.

From growing up watching foster parents, my real parents and friends cheating on each other I vowed I would be honest with that part of any relationship I was in.

In all my years with Jennifer I stayed true.

I was a flirt, big time, still am. But why eat cookies if you have Angel food cake at home.

Many will not believe that but I know the truth and I will stand before St. Peter or the Lord himself and say, “Yes, I broke nine of the ten commandments my Lord, but I honoured my wife for over 30 years.”

Life goes on.

I have been granted yet another crack at the bat and I will play by the rules.

I never once in my life thought I would be able to say
“I am 61 years old.”

Yet here I am and I am willing to bet that in ten years I will be listening to Leonard Cohen and dancing with my beloved Pringles and Ruffles.

I cannot hate over love, for maybe at one point she did love me.

Maybe ….

I will have to believe that to be true because I don’t want to realize there are people that are that cold hearted in real life.

But, I have to ask myself why did she only visiting time out of all the two months I have fought for my life in these hospitals?

Would I do that to her? Not a hope in Hell, I would have sat beside her bed from day one for I did/do love her.

And now I must put on my “I am okay” face and carry on.

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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

Disgusted

I am absolutely disgusted – only word to describe it – that because of all the damn junkies abusing the system, cancer victims like myself no longer have their opioid pain medications covered.

Believe me, I need my pain medication. I don’t take them to get “high”. I take them to stop from crying.

Literally.

There should be some sort of regulation to bypass this punishment.

I am now in the position of choosing between groceries or medication. I have to choose “groceries”, for I have a child to feed.

All I can say is, “Fuck you pill head scum.”

Hope Is All We Really Have

So, final diagnosis from the surgeons …. oropharyngeal cancer’ in the neck and my cranium. And now in addition to that I have been diagnosed with Squamous Cell Carcinoma which has grown in the form of a very large tumor on the back of my tongue.

This tumor presents life threatening and serious consequences. Hence, my throat is closing up. On January 3rd, 2019 I will begin radical chemo/beam radiation treatment for periods of six and a half weeks, a short break and then repeated.

Also, I have to have a surgically implanted feeding tube installed and a trachea breathing airway in my throat and a port-a-cath for administrating medications and such.

I have battled many things in my life, but this will be my greatest battle of all. I am scared. I am not ashamed to admit that. I cry at night. I cry when no one but my soulmate can see or hear. I have the right to cry for I may very well not make it through this battlefield of treatment.

The doctors say if the Squamous Cell reaches my liver there will be little they can do other than dope me up and let me pass on to the next space/time continuum.

I have walked my seven paths on the seven continuum’s. The eighth you do not return for that is the one where the Light chooses you, not you choosing the Light.

If that is what lays before me, I am okay with it. I have lived a wild life, Blessed life – a life many would be jealous of. I have walked many different paths, a beggerman, a thief, a hippie, a biker, a vagabond, a father, a husband (a few times), an electrician, a poet and recently, an author.

To quote Kid Rock, “I have ate of dumpsters and I have dined with Kings.”

I would do it all over again if given the chance. My lifestyle and the choices I made, although often tragic, gifted me with meeting tens of thousands of people from every walk of life there is. I learned from them, I absorbed knowledge from every encounter and the greatest thing I was rewarded with was “SURVIVAL” .

I left my parents home at the age of 12. A mere snot nosed baby in diapers. I never went home since then.

Who does such a thing you may ask.

I do.

I am ‘LightHouse Dann Verner’.

A man who some say has lived many tragic lives.

The first decade of my life I had lived in thirty-two homes. None of which I ever spoke the words, “Mom or Dad”. Only “Mister or Misses”.

I started my ‘Walks’ at the age of ten fighting the monsters in my head. The demons were winning for many years.

I left my siblings Father’s house at the age of twelve to join a hippie commune and learned how to be a Heroin addict.

I have never slept in my father or mothers house since that day.

That was over fifty years ago.

Foster care, jails, pain, sorrow and addiction were my childhood friends.

My playgrounds were the streets.

My rocking horse a Harley Davidson motorcycle.

I learned how to survive the best I could. I learned the harsh realities of everyday life. I learned deceit, honesty, love, hate and most of all “HOPE”. I survived day by day hoping the next sunrise would be better.

Sometimes it was better. Sometimes it was not.

I have hope today. Hope that although there lays a fifty/fifty chance I will soon be ascending I will survive.

For hope is all we really have.

Namaste’

My Apologies

I have to apologize to everyone for the roller-coaster of emotions I have been going through.

I am having a difficult time dealing with the cancer diagnosis, the stress of my financial situation and all the ripple effects caused by these.

I am lost. I am 61. Very sick. I am in such a disastrous financial situation that may lead to our being homeless once again come the new year. This is mainly due to the identity theft I had earlier this year. It left me four months behind in all aspects of my finances.

The duo cancer diagnosis has devastated me and plays chaos with my emotions.

I am ashamed of myself for the financial crisis and for not being able to show Dakota a very good Christmas, if any Christmas at all.

The waiting for the treatment and surgeries for the cancer has and is causing me many sleepless nights and numerous anxiety attacks.

All this has greatly affected the way I have been treating my precious Maria, my family and my friends.

I apologize and I am trying hard to come to terms with the reality of what my life has become. But, it is not that easy.

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 …

Deja vu – IRRITATED Nipple syndrome once again

I post this every Fall or in this case winter as here in Canada Irritated Nipple Syndrome is a reality. Mostly caused by our Northern winds and our lust for cheap polyester t-shirts. 

I have been plagued with this horrifying disease for nigh on 61 years now.

As fall has arrived I am once again plagued with the horrible INS, so, I am re-publishing a blog I wrote in November 2007


It seems to my contorted malformed outlook towards this self labeled existence your homo sapient species declare as humanity that as “Atomic Mother Earth” has another one of her annual menopausal temperature episodes, you are dancing in cohesion to her moods and wants.

If my memory does not fail me, then, I recall that not just twenty-four hours ago I was strolling the Danforth in a T-shirt and blue jeans. I recall my endocentric annoyance at the sweat gathering in the furrow of my brow as I glinted from the warm brightness of the summer comparable sunlight.

Yet, on this bright Thursday morn, “Atomic Mother Earth” has decided to plague me with the dreaded “Irritated Nipple Syndrome”. My whole life I suffered from “INS”. The symptoms of which is a debilitating and very sensitive soreness of the good old human teats.

There is nothing ever so painful as the abrasiveness of cheap blended polyester brushing to and fro upon the super-sensitive, and, often amusing to play with, human nipple. Specially on a day as such where the cold bitter bite of lakefront wind has made my twin pleasure buttons stand hard and tall like two minute penises and declare their existence.

I would give most anything at this moment for the feel of warm dressed cotton or, perhaps, even the sweet caress of perhaps ‘Cashmere’.

If you happen to discover that you indeed have a spare ‘real’ T-shirt, my nipples would greatly appreciate a donation of such. I fear the coming vengeance of the Arctic wind inspired season of Canada’s winter and her cold crippling affect on my self inflicted, physical abused ‘too-many years of heavy lifting’. humanoid form. (I take a size man’s small, because “The Cosmic Muffin” puts great things in very petite packages,

So, where was I headed before my nipples got in the way……………………….Oh Yes! I remember now. As “Mother Earth” begins her seasonal transformation also do they, you or whoever I may be referring to.

I diligently trucked out into the public domains yesterday afternoon to record to memory the strange rites and rituals of you humanoid robotic clones of a greater being, so as, when the Mothership returns, I shall have gathered enough intelligence as to please the supreme powers that be, and, thusly, I may rightfully be receiving the ever patronizing pat on my head and the salutary equation of “Dann is a good boy!”. Of which I will reply the ever grateful “Thank you” and sheepishly grin and drool.

There you were, dancing your rhythms of daily disclosure and bartering your extensively earned numerical bank notes called “The Paycheque” to purchase licorice strands of candied sugars to ensure the quietness of the distressed two year old as he struggles to gain freedom from the stroller so as he may run rampant and yet again test your patience quota.

If so howled the crisp breeze from Lake Ontario, then, immediately your upper limbs clutch to protect the ever sensitive nipples. Nipples appear to me as a large factor in your everyday lives This is something that with my outlook and learning’s of culture I find very interesting. How such a little pair of budded human tissue can hold such a great importance in daily routines is absolutely amazing.

If “Mother Earth” decides that today is too be a chilled one then instinctively your arms cover them. If “She” decides that, perhaps, tomorrow shall be warm then – again – you may choose to wrap your arms across your breast plate so as your nipples are not visible through your choosing to dress in light clothing due to the heated air of the day.

On a warm summer’s day at the beach, the young females readily douse their feline bodies with the refreshing and cool lake water, but then they must protect their nipples from the wanton eyes of juvenile males who are hoping and praying that “The Hairy Thunderer” will grant them the blessing of a visual aid only comparable to that of a “Wet T-shirt Contest”.

Winter brings the crossing of arms and the multi-layering of various sweaters purchased through the Bay, or, maybe, even Walmart. Oh, but the constrictions of layer upon layer of artificial body coverings and the labourious way the wearing of such creates many lost minutes of most precious time, time better spent with our nipples.

If, in your wonderment of life, you are to have such a thought as, “Does this happen to the male of the species?” I can assure your curiosity with a definite affirmation. Males do in fact suffer the same fate, although, due to infantile imbedded social lessons they must bravely and with no sign of pain appear invincible to the effects of exposing their nipples to us all.

I, alone, may be the only exception to the rule. For I, without modesty, bravely announce to you all that “I have Irritated Nipple Syndrome” and I have no decent, and neither can I afford to purchase, a ‘real’ T-shirt.

I embarrassingly admit that I may in fact need of your charity in order that I may have a cotton T-shirt to keep me warm through out the coming all out attack of winter. (again I hint that I take a size man’s small, because “The Cosmic Muffin” puts great things in very petite packages, inbox me for my address, lol.

If perchance you have a spare appropriate t-shirt I would be forever grateful if you were to donate them. You may send them in care of:

D. Verner, 608 Dawes Road, Suite 610, East York, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, M4B 2G6

All of the above mentioned observations have made me realize that by looking out my window and watching these humanoid lifeforms conduct their daily routines and dances, I can accurately determine the weather by how greatly the female Homo Sapient is clutching her breastplate. Such a simple but relatively accurate method of predetermining the weather. On the Mothership we are forced to depend on the science of meteorology and our daily session watching the universal weather channel on our installed satellite dish.

I bid you all a warm day in the emotional sense. I offer to you a simple concept to imbed into your daily routine – I offer that when your eyes are next to focus on your fellow man that your brain immediately sends forth but one word………..PEACE!

Good day to you and yours – Guter Tag zu Ihnen und zu Ihrem – Хороший день к вам и твоему – Bonne journée à toi et au vôtre – Buen día a usted y el suyo

Take a "Walk With Dann" through the expanse of his mind

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