Blog Archives - TRUTH-LIES...with FD Thornton

Worth More

9/25/2024

First off I wanted to say Chapter 9 of the Never Gone series will hopefully be out later in the week depending on Hurricane Helene. But me and my bride just got back from drug store shopping. And as you can see above I got a grocery bag full of new drugs. I won’t get into details but without my insurance that bag is worth more than the Kia I’m driving.

Yesterday afternoon I went to my cute little cardiologist NP, for the results and outlook of my recent heart catheterization. Sadly I guess, the outlook isn’t very good. The angina and heart flutters I’ve been having at night are do to a decrease in my hearts Ejection Fraction (EF). Normally the lower chambers pump blood at 50%, below 40% isn’t good. Mine are down to 20%. So my cardiologist recommends implanting an ICD defibrillator. So hopefully down the road, So I'm getting a Baby Bobby (Long story).

So am I worried about the consequences, huh, Yes! Do I trust the diagnosis? Even Bigger Yes! So I’m preparing myself for a life with a few new shocking surprises. I wish the news was better or at least the same. But it is what it is. My NP did say that was not retaining fluids , was is common. Or that I didn’t need another stent. Is just that things are deteriorating as is often the case with congestive heart failure. But with this change in medication and the implant as a backup plan. I’ll do my best to make sure my life is worth more time.

Monday Hustle

9/23/2024

Well I’m up doing my normal Monday hustle, along with changing the bedsheets, turning the mattress (which you should do every season), doing the laundry, along calling to get my wife’s prescriptions ready. It’s what a caregiver calls a normal day. With my wife’s leg and side giving her a fit, she’s slowed down even more. Spending most of the day in her recliner with a heating pad. For over two years we have been going to specialist after specialist never getting a straight answer. Just more test and more prescriptions. Some have told me in private that she must be exaggerating the pain, because they can find nothing wrong. But these are not the answers you give to a disabled person who said it hurts and that none of us (including me) cares.

So what do you do? You take care of business. So I get on the phone with the pain management doctor that’s 150 miles away and beg someone to answer the phone. Then when they do all I get are procedure appointments rescheduled and rescheduled months down the road. Her next appointment is the day after Christmas. With no medication prescriptions renewed or anything. Nice huh? So I ask myself, where do we go from here? I mean this as far as we have gotten to any solution so far. Do we start all over again, I mean, seriously? But mine is just one story in what I’m sure are millions of other stories.

Stepping back from your own selfish frustration you have to consider the millions of other advocates and caregivers out there. Those with even less resources then even you have. Those working fulltime jobs or those who depend on medical transport or those crying in there pillows at night when no one’s there. Plus those that have to deal with family members who don’t life a finger to help. Yet hang like vultures waiting to pick their loved ones bones. These are hard words to hear, let alone write down. But they must be written. So to all the caregivers out there, I get it. Maybe someday a commonsense solution will be found. Till then…continue the hustle.

This Time is Yours

9/20/2024

I got up this morning thinking, I don’t feel like this “adulting” thing today. For one my allergies were up, my right eye had air blown in it all night (CPAP thing), and my bones hurt. But it didn’t take me but a few moments to get over that after having to pee for the fourth time since I went to bed. So as per Mom’s strict training I rolled out of bed, opened the curtains, made up the bed, and got dressed. After taking my morning lot of medication, my wife walked in with the mail. I got one lone letter from my health insurance provider showing I was approved for an upcoming procedure K74.69 (Colonoscopy/Endoscopy).

This isn’t my first rodeo with either procedure, I had my first some five years ago. Usually the average person should have this done every ten years, but since polyps were found in my colon (they were benign) I have to go in for a look under the carriage every five years. For those of you that are putting off having these procedures done, there’s really nothing to it other than the inconvenience of the colonoscopy prep. My advice for that is eat light before you do the prep, it makes the whole process much easier. As far as having an Endoscopy, my only complaint was my throat was sore for a few days afterwards.

Anyway, such as the life of an aging man with a shitload bad habits under his belt. But such as it is, I’m now doing my best and listening to my doctors and doing my best to fix old habits. After the carefree days of my youth, adulting hit me right between the eyes after a disastrous first marriage, divorce, then the unexcepted pregnancy of my girlfriend (current wife). I’ve now had to spend most of my life being the adult, the responsible one. But to be honest I don’t really miss those unscheduled days. I was a lot dumber (hard to believe). Had way too many unresolved issues (you don’t want to know). And I never gave a thought to my future. But I’m living that future now and it’s telling me, “It’s okay you’ve made it this far”, so go on and be grateful this time is yours”.

Pictures of Our Kids

9/19/2024

Before it gets too hot I’m spending another quiet morning parked between the fig bush and the clothesline. Today is my rest day in- between me heading into town tomorrow for more quarterly blood work. This time only requiring 5 vials of my life. But it’s for a good I suppose checking my blood cell count and my iron deficiencies. It least this crew for what it’s worth are pretty good at drawing blood. Over the years we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well, showing each other pics of our kids and grandchildren.

From a distance I smell effects of a freshly cut lawn, within the muffled sound of a zero-turn mower. Shadows reflect off the sheets I just put on the line, reminding me of days when my mom hangout the laundry. Now I’m the parent and grandparent, watching my own kids stumbling through the world of parenting much like I did. I thank my lucky stars that for the most part I been allowed to retire. With my kids knowing I here for them, without the added stress of having to bail them out of every jam.

My hope is you’re granted the comfort. That you have the confidence that your own children grow up the be good parents. While I was parenting I suffered, and I suffered hard. Floating through one mental crisis to another doing what I had to do to hold on. Now most of my days are spent paying the price for all that stress and bad choices just to survive. You may wonder, “Damn, was it all worth it?” The answer obviously, yes. “Adulting” as it’s now called, is no easy road. But sitting here in my shitty state of well-being is something I can live with knowing “my four and no more” are content and successful. Meaning that despite my flaws, I must have done a decent job.

Blue Skies

9/17/2024

I am staring out at blue skies. What was once a quiet blue morning has quickly turned into gas fumes and loud lawn equipment next door at the EMC. It takes the three of the more time to cut them three strips of grass than one 80 year old man that cuts my yard. But that is what you get for hiring 19 year old dropouts working for beer money. Believe me I know. Anyway, Buffy’s in my lap, she hates the racket too. So with the smell of a badly tuned weed eaters, I sit here and wait for these boys to get done mowing.

But at least I am outside after a week of rain and drizzle. With a good breeze blowing off that storm in the Carolinas. I got clothes hung out for the first time in days. While I’m not fan of dryers (no 240v outlet) on weeks like this they would have been most appreciated. Still the leaves are beginning to fall, and autumn is just a few days away. There is nothing much going on in my head other than the bruises healing up on my arms. I guess like most people in my position it’s just get your chores done and find a hobby.

It is not like I would not want a regular job like everyone else. But there comes a point for some of us when you just can’t . Now even the casual things which I do have become hard. As a young person I never thought much about growing old. As a middle aged man I was far too busy working and being the single parent with a house full of kids and a spouse with special needs. But then it all changed. With all the stress of family responsibility, going to school, and working I finally just shut down. Now going on my ninth year of living on borrowed time, all I apparently have to show for it is, watching this youngin run a leaf blower against the wind. But between the blue skies and the clouds, I carry on. Apparently living to watch contractors speeding by my house and the smell of poorly mixed gasoline.

Compassion & Empathy

9/15/2024

It’s a cloudy Sunday morning and I’m sitting here at my desk looking over a story I wrote a few days ago. It’s one of my gripe pieces where I do a little venting about whatever. But after reading over the story I decided that it sounded like something the people I was writing about would actually say… gripe, gripe, gripe. So I decided to can that project and instead focus on truth. Truth that “righteous anger” is one thing, but outright insults and one-upmanship are another. As I focus on my mindfulness journey I find myself being sad for those that are so determined and arrogant to prove others wrong. That all the world is black and while with no room for compassion or empathy.

My outward appearance is that of a hardened, stubborn, asshole. And while I take no pride in that fact, I accept my limitations. That’s why I choose to limit my social commentary to written words and not video post. Considering my dyslexia, I have to be careful when choosing my words. This allows me to post mindfully and not to ramble on just to prove I’m right. Now that doesn’t mean I’m not susceptible to fits of rage, just ask my family. But I am a little careful when addressing the general public.

Reading over the first two paragraphs I suppose my objective for all this jabbering is, choose your words wisely. But also to take a moment to put yourself in someone else’s shoes. Listen I’m far from perfect in fact I’m probably one of the worse of the worse when it comes to PC. And while many may say I have no excuse, especially when expounding the nobleness of being mindful. But at least I’m pumped my head full of the right thing, as apposed to the other. So forgive me of my shortcomings as I do my best to forgive yours. Life is more than just proving we are right. It is about the compassion we express towards one another and the empathy we feel about each other’s situations.

Bruised

9/13/2024

Is there such a thing as being powerless, I believe there are things like the cry of a lost child. Or a women beaten to submission physically, mentally, or both. A young boy only seeking the approval of a father. Or the endless torment of the bullies taunting that same young boy to tears. I wrote a piece about my official retirement at the end of the year. But it bubbled into a piece about the many that have no respect for the few. Raised in the crossfire of “suck it up buttercup” and just not giving a shit. The Teflon coating I wear shows little damage. But the scars underneath look nearly as bad as my surgical bruises.

At this point in my life I don’t want to be the man that yells, “Get off my lawn.” Nor do I want to be the kindly old grandpa with that disgusting butterscotch candy. I believe that’s enough left of me physically and cognitively to be of some help. But still there are some bullies out there wrapped in their flags and propaganda. That believe might is right and insults are the only way to communicate. I’m sorry, but I’m just too tired of all the shit anymore. I just assume sit under the fig bush or stare out my window.

There thinking about the cycle of time and how my children perceive the world. Was life too hard for them? Should I be so critical of how they raise their own. I feel shame of the part I played in their lives. The inadequacies and the faults I carried. I often enviously look at how my peers raised their children and wonder, why couldn’t I do that? But should I turn this moment of solace into a moment of regret? Or should I forgive myself and make penitence for the things I’ve done. Having an open dialogue with yourself isn’t always cleansing. It’s more like a purging of the faults you find in yourself.

Nice Shiny Box

9/12/2024

Image By: Sandra Saxon Burnsed

Well it’s been about three or four days since my probing (heart catheterization) so now I’m able to get back on my normal medication schedule. It’s not that I can tell any real difference taking them and not taking them, but my daily vital signs (blood glucose, blood pressure) could definitely tell a difference. But now that we are back on the routine they should all trim out soon. I was listening to a TV reporter give a postage stamp size report on the current state of spirituality in America this morning. Of course they started with the standard faire of (Mysticism, Crystals, Self-Help), and then lumping all the standard religions together (Protestant, Catholic, Muslim) into one nice shiny box.

After seeing my life flash before my eyes on more than one occasion. I see a little good and a little bad in each one of these beliefs. But the thing that always sticks in my mind with each of these beliefs are, humans need to box things up to explain them. At an early point during my heart journey when my insides were filling up with fluid and I was basically drowning myself, I finally called 911. At the time I had such a fear of dying all I wanted to do was ignore the signs and wish them away. But when common sense finally hit me and I was taken to the hospital, I suddenly felt peace. Now it may have been the medications I was given, but honestly it was more than just that. It’s almost as if after tipping over the edge no longer able to breathe I found peace. I was literally no longer afraid to die.

Now that may sound like a very bold statement to make. But for years I fought off visions of death through many scenarios. Like driving down the street and seeing visions of the car across from me slamming into me head-on. These were the things my panic disorder would bring to my mind with or without medication. I lived with this secret from 1999 till 2015, with the onset of my first coronary episode. Now was this some spiritual epiphany? Who the hell knows. All I know is that it set me upon a journey to understanding that all things worldly are connected (humans, faith, seasons, the planet). And until we all come to that understanding, we are all eventually doomed to fear.

Down My Fingers

9/11/2024

It has been nearly 24 hours since my surgery so I’m still a bit foggy. But my throat feels much better now, but my waist is very sore and the muscles in the back of my arm are twitchy. I am finally got the feeling back in my thumb and fore finger, but the tip of my forefinger is quite sore for some reason. This is the first time I remember vividly most of the procedure. I wasn’t in any pain, and I was pretty high from the medication, so my sense of time was a given. But I do remember the sensation of the wire/tube going up my arm and the feeling of a liquid trickling down my fingers.

I don’t mean to be so vivid, but this is my way of processing the entire event. Unlike most I no longer bury my pain or fears in a pit somewhere in my soul. Because I’ve learned that eventually all that poison seeps into your soul and contaminates your mind. But the good news about the whole procedure is I didn’t need a new stent but at the same time my doctor did mention my heart muscles were continuing to deteriorate. But he did inject a bit of optimism by saying he’ll adjust some of my medication to see what he can do. I admire my cardiologist while he’s a bit “eccentric”, he has a genuine concern for his patients and his craft.

So my attitude today is one of optimism and a bit of disappointment. But I’d rather know the truth instead of hiding under the covers fearing the “what if’s”. I did that for too long and you can obviously see where that got me. So I will take this and every other experience in my life and turn it into a learning moment. To hopefully better my situation pushing away at the bitterness that so easily creeps in and destroys your peace. While there are still many things in my life that have gone unanswered. I’ve decided to choose a path of peace believing that with a little faith and trust everything will be alright.

Triggered

9/9/2024

It has been a rough week for me this week. First there’s the stress of worrying about what they’ll found when they probe my heart Tuesday. Then there’s the stress I placed on myself while writing the Chapter 8 story of the Never Gone series I posted this week. The heart cauterization procedure is due to an “anomaly” they found during my Nuclear Stress Test last month. Of course anyone would be stressed about that if facing a similar situation. But I was a little surprised when I was triggered while writing the Chapter 8 story. I suppose it comes from the fact that the incident actually happened to me in my real life some 30 years ago.

When writing the piece I simply thought the incident would add a bit of drama to the story. But what I didn’t anticipate was how triggering the incident be after so many years. But boom there it is the same emotions and fears I experienced so long ago, now staring me in the face…again. Two decades ago when I was first diagnosed with Panic and Anxiety Disorders, I was told that it wasn’t PTSD. That PTSD was reserved for those that experienced life threatening trauma. But now the word seems to get tossed around in a broader context, so now I wonder if I have it. But I’m sure not going to try and self-analyze myself in 400 words or less.

Still it’s been awhile since I’ve had such lingering aftereffect from a memory. I’m hoping now that that chapter has quite literally been written. That I can now rest during the night, but if the last several nights are any indication, I doubt it. I guess the only thing to do now is go through my pre-op prep the next two days and wait and see what my cardiologist finds. Till then at least I got football the occupy my mind while this lingering drizzle continues to fall outside my window.