Tag Archives: The Last Canadian Cosmonaut

Cuatro en La Mañana Pensamientos Profundos

Mi alma gemela está fuera para una mini-excursión para limpiar su hermosa mente de su madre y yo luchando contra el cáncer en etapa 4 tardía.

Es desgarrador verla sufriendo mi dolor.

Antes de que ella incluso saliera de Toronto, tuve ese nudo retorcido de soledad que agarró mis testículos.

Sé muy bien que pronto estará en casa, pero “el corazón es un cazador solitario”.

Lo mío está en una nube solitaria de Apreciación y Amor.

PORQUE ME AMO Y APRECIO A MÁS ALLÁ DE CUALQUIER PALABRA QUE AUTOR AQUÍ.

Ella sabe el peso de mi Devoción y cada onza singular de amor verdadero que llevo por ella.

No hay duda si eso. Esperaré su regreso con el corazón bien abierto y los brazos levantados en Alabado sea Dios.

Porque el Señor Salvador me bendijo con el privilegio de amarla.

Y lo hago La amo inmensamente y 100% veraz.

…………………………………………………………….

My soul mate is away for a mini-excursion to clear her beautiful mind from her Mother and I both battling late stage 4 cancer.

It is heartbreaking to see her suffering my pain.

Before she even flew out of Toronto I had that twisted knot of loneliness grab my testicles.

I know darn well that she will soon be home, but the “heart is a lonely hunter”.

Mine lays in a solitary cloud of Appreciation and Love.

FOR I DO LOVE AND APPRECIATE HER BEYOND ANY WORDS I AUTHOR HERE.

She knows the weight of my Devotion and each singular ounce of true love I carry for her.

There is no doubt if that. I will await her return with my heart wide open and my arms raised in Praise God. For the Lord Savior Blessed me with the privilege of loving her.

And I do. I love her immensely and 100% truthfulness.

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Got Them Monday Cancer Blues

When it comes to the Cancers, it’s the constant “hurry-up and wait” game that lays responsible for fifty percent of my stress.

I despise waiting, unless for a cab or a bus.

Waiting on the Specialists, the Surgeons, the Radiologist Oncologist, the Surgical Oncologist, the General Practitioners and the various Nurse, Psych and Support Staff is extremely nerve wracking.

This is compounded by the seriousness of my current status. I am now classified as “Late Stage 4 Squamous Cell Carcinoma”. Presently, “Non-Treatable”. “Terminal” if suitable and efficient therapy is not developed.

That is “Stephen King Scary.”

In Princess Margaret Cancer Center’s defence, I must say that no singular party is the blame.

The system is well stretched to the maximum, yet the Hospital still manages to get the patients through.

Yes, we may have to wait. Not long for most procedures or test results. Usually with in hours as an in-patient and a day as an out-patient. I have many an occasion to base this on.

I am waiting because I have SURPASSED the treatment window for conventional chemo or radiation therapies.

Hence, my signing on to my previous radical radiation therapy regime of a double round of experimental rad each morning and another six hours later.

In a 20 day therapy I received 80 doses. I graduated March 1st, 2019 from a successful run.

A miracle in my books.

March 2nd, 2019 at 4 in the morning my Spleen decided to self-destruct and explodes in my belly.

If not for my living mere blocks from the Michael Garron Hospital, I would not be writing this. I bled out in the ambulance.

I have very rare blood. Hard to obtain on a good day.

4 & 1/2 hours in O.R.

By lunch time that day I had received 16 liters of rapidly infused fluids.

Including:

4 pints whole blood

2 pints red blood cell concentrate

1 liter iron sucrose

And Ringer’s Lactate and various other fluids.

I was dead (again) – Number 9.

I was not looking so well when I woke up in I.C.U. – but, many professionals and family alike where awful surprised when I started speaking.

In October, 2018, I weighed in naked at 168 pounds.

By mid-March, 2019, I weighed barely 102 pounds in Hospital garb.

This decimated corpse is not laying down!!!!!!

For I am “The Original Urban Viking” and Cancer does not scare me.

Waiting does.

For, I know not what I am waiting for.

I know they must biopsy the ulcers in my throat. A very difficult task considering the obstruction of the swelling caused by necrosis laced flesh. This and my previous incubation difficulties make the simple biopsy a surgical operation under anesthesia.

Apparently, it will come with a painful recovery.

I can handle the pain.

I do extremely well with pain control once I know the source.

By knowing I can focus my Meditation, my Crystals, my Mineral & Stone Buddhist Bracelets and my Legion of Mary energies upon the Cancer directly.

Believe or not. I believe. Even the Treatment Team agree that there was no way I should have survived the Spleen rupture.

Their words, not mine:

ONLY EXPLANATION IS SIMPLY, ‘A MIRACLE'”

I still get shivers even typing it.

Changed my life for evermore. My Faith and Spirituality grew stronger.

I have always had a strong spiritual belief. Brought on by my 8 previous “Life AFTER Death Experiences”.

(Long story – read my autobiographical series, ‘Walk With Dann Collection.)

Waiting scares me and I do not scare easily.

Waiting for the biopsy. Waiting, most of all, that hopefully these gifted surgeons, doctors, nurses, social workers, grief counselors and all the Team can come up with an attack plan.

Otherwise, I could and will soon ascend. This has not been hidden from me.

Yet, as scared as I am, I am equally confident.

Valhalla is not ready for my soul.

Helheim declares me, ‘Persona non Gratis’

I have a calling.

I have yet to understand what the calling is, but I feel it’s mighty presence rising from my very soul.

My time is not now. My death, (I despise that term – (I prefer ‘ascension’) – will devastate too many innocent souls.

My wife, my sons, my adopted sons, my precious Maria, my best friend for life, Terry, Candace, who has graciously opened her home and heart to me do not deserve nor can handle just now, such a dark blow.

So, I simply will not go – I refuse to ascend till I have successfully completed…..

Firstly – properly preparing all my Family and Loved Ones for my ascension.

Be it of natural cause.

Or trauma incurred with my “Do Not Resuscitate” clause.

My previous blog explains why

OR…..

I invoke my “Death With Dignity” contract. Let me tell you right now that I would have to be in one superstorm of a Hell Hurricane to invoke such.

So, I sit here scared.

Secondly – as I have stated, and as numerous member of my Prayer Army can attest, I have a Calling”.

I know soon it will reveal to me exactly what I am Blessed to undertake.

As the Jewish say:

‘HINENI’

‘I AM READY MY LORD’

I used this term previously when I spoke of giving-up, laying down to waste away and, yes, even suicidal thoughts.

I should bow my head in shame to use such a Holy statement in such a Dark thought.

I am ready to begin my quest. I am ready to use my gift of Light and my past life lessons to tackle whatever tasks lay ahead in this, most definitely,

“Final walk with Dann”.

I will wait, still.

WHY, YOU ASK?”

What choice do I have but to wait till I know my purpose?

I am scared of waiting, yet, I am waiting to be scared.

I do my best work under pressure.

I will fight this demonic cancer with determination, your Prayers, your Love and my Creator’s will.

I have believed that I may have been Rasputin in another plain of space/time continuum.

They have poisoned me, stabbed me, shot me and once tried to drown me.

To quote Elton John:

I’m still standing. Even after all these years.”

I have Faith. Not your typical, “Oh now you have cancer you pray to God?”

My Faith has always been present. For years hidden incognito within my eclectic personality.

My devotion to my Spirituality is my weapon. My fearlessness of Ascension is my Army.

Hineni

The Fear of Cancer Continued

Today, May 30th, 2019, I attended the Head & Neck Cancer Clinic in the marvelous Princess Margaret Cancer Center.

This was the appointment I so eagerly awaited in my previous blog, “The Fear of Cancer”.

I was not expecting good news. Many years ago I had trained myself to always expect the worst in this type of a situation.

Why, you ask?”

If I expect the worse, then no matter what the diagnosis is to be I will be relieved as it is not the worst.

By the way, “It was the worse I have heard so far.”

Soooooo, I will break down the first three parts.

I will be receiving 39 sessions in a hypobaric chamber. They average 1 to 2 hours per session.

As you all know, from the previous and numerous blogs, now that the tumors have been destroyed by the radical radiation, I am plagued with ulcers of a yet ‘unknown’ type growing in the pockets of necrosic flesh left behind by the dimishing tumors.

These come in three types.

1) Non-cancerous ordinary ulcers

2) Cancerous ‘Treatable’

3) Cancerous ‘Non-Treatable

A biopsy is need to determine which. This is going to be schedule super a.s.a.p. at my surgerical oncologist at Mount Sinai Hospital. I suspect as early as Tuesday.

I will also have another CT scan of my chest and head.

All this is on super rush.

Tests I have had are still inconclusive.

I need to be put under for the biopsy as they cannot get down my throat far enough the conventional way.

The specialty surgeon is going to have to evaluate what to needs to be removed.

What my quality of life shall be if I have surgery will determine my choice of having surgery or not.

I will not allow any surgery that renders me invalid or disfigured.

I will not suffer my family or loved ones such sorrow.

The ulcers are not healing. This is where the hyperbolic chamber comes into play. By infusion my body with oxygen it will promote faster healing.

Hopefully.

We still are unsure as to whether or not they are cancerous or non-cancerous.

It may be necessary for me to have the g-tube re-installed. I may have no choice but to stop eating orally completely. This to allow my throat to heal.

I would be 100% reliant on the g-tube for all nutrition and hydration. For as long as it takes to improve.

For the past week or so I have experienced a pain like no other in my life! Far worse than anything I have experienced. And I have been through many physically painful situations.

It starts behind my eyes – as if there is someone attempting to push my eyes out of the sockets with their thumbs. My ears are constantly feeling as if they are being stabbed with sharpened pencils. The base of my skull has someone hammering in nails and my throat pain is beyond description.

I literally cry like a baby. I want to scream.

But, I can and will do my best to pass through this, the biggest storm of my life. (Death?)

Thank you all for the love, positive vibrations, encouragement abs mostof all your Prayers.

I am humbled by what everyone has done for me and the love that has enveloped me.

Maria MacDonald – your loveand devotion is a large factor in my surviving this far and I will never give up this battle for I have a lifetime to spend sharing with you.

You are the fire in my life. My heart. My love.

I appreciate, respect and loveyou beyond words.

I will say my Prayers now and ask for relief from this barrage of pure pain.

Remember my friends, it does not take much to …..

PRAY IT FORWARD

#LightHouseDannVerner
#FuckCancer
#TheOriginalUrbanViking

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

Piscina de Lágrimas

The night reminds me that there lay a hole in my heart.

A dark aching patch which once was filled with joyous laughter and pride.

Pride for being gifted with loving her.

I shall never not love her.

How could I?

For my heart beats only for her.

In days of futures past the love will still be genuine.

Love is not a mere word. Although, some may believe.

It well may be a physical part of that which we are made of.

So, I shall shed these tears.

For they are mine.

They shall gather as a pool of joyfulness and sorrow in the dark hole within my heart.

And I will smile.

And remember when it was love …..

At first sight.

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.

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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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!

Was My Life Hard? I Think Not

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…..

Was my life hard?

I think not.

Every life is difficult.

It is our trials and tribulations that define who we become in life.

I have done many things I am ashamed of.

I have done far more that I am proud of.

Never let your past transgressions define your future.

Hold your head high and hold the attitude that you are the best you that you can be today.

For yesterday has ‘passed’.

Tomorrow is always “tomorrow“.

Today is ‘now‘ and only the Creators know what each day will teach you, show you and bring to you.

Never be leary to stand head high.

Always treat each new day as another ‘birth“.

Walk With Dann Collection” tells you of my many trials and tribulations.

Available at:

amazon.com/author/lighthouseverner

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.