Tag: CIRS

Walk softly in the moment

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Said goodbye to a group I started on Facebook that grew to well over 3,000 people, my Co-Admin and I helping them with mercury toxicity as best as we can. My leave-taking occurred over a period of weeks and ended yesterday. It was time to free up some energy for other projects. Still, you have meant so much to me.

Experiencing fewer serious convulsive episodes lately after embarking on aggressive treatment for systemic Candida albicans plus flares of herpes simplex, and herpes zoster. The ramp up was very difficult yet, coupled with another treatment for a chronic MARCONs infection in my sinuses, it appears the body burden of infection is going down. Along with it there are at least 2 days every week for the past 5 weeks without convulsive episodes or tics! Only one severe episode every 5 days! Having more moments of relative freedom means so much to me after 9 years trapped in a prison cell with fear-of-episodes: avoiding triggers seemingly present in every aspect of living. Thousands of convulsive episodes nearly destroyed my health, my life. Now the the beatings have lifted some.

Simple changes in the timing of compounded hormone creams coupled with specific pharmaceutical grade supplements to help regulate cortisol levels took about a month to affect my sleep-wake cycle. This all came together rather casually when my Family Doctor reviewed the treatments of my Integrative Medicine Doctor. Both of them contributed to a significant change and so did I. I ventured out to find yet another recommended supplement and braved taking it when literally hundreds of treatments in the past have resulted in disaster. The Lord guided me in tweaking the dosing. And now most nights I sleep at least 5 hours during the normal time of night. This means so much to Steve and me.

A quagmire of new dental issues furthered my belief that not much in the medical realm is simple for me anymore. A simple cavity took a total of 4 dental visits to resolve, 2 with conscious sedation and all with considerable suffering, serious side effects. The latter included another flare-up of shingles! But now the insurance coverage for ongoing treatment of HHV1 and HHV3 is better and I am tolerating the dosing most of the time. So what if I have to soak the dye off of the tablet so it doesn’t cause a headache. I digress. PTL, He helped me figure it out. After my mouth fully heals and I can return to regular wearing of my specialized dental appliance, I should be stable once again. No more pureed or chopped food. To be stable means a lot to me.

The diagnosis of Occipital Neuralgia dovetailed multiple cranial nerve issues (vagus, trigeminal, glossopharygeal) that result in convulsive episodes. This discovery has led to new treatment strategies that work for me. No, it’s not fun to sleep with an ice wrap around my head at night but if it largely prevents a seizure attack episode falling asleep then I WILL DO IT! Nerve block injections tomorrow have the possibility of confirming this dynamic. It means so much to me to have tools to help my symptoms, to lessen my suffering. Very sparing use of new medications has rescued me on my worst days. Over the past 5 months, it only took a failed visit to the Cleveland Clinic and four visits to the professionals at a local pain management clinic that actually listen to me to figure it all out. At long last, I’ve got tools that work to lessen pain! Less pain means fewer convulsive episodes. Who knew?

The difference between my self esteem getting bruised from chronic illness and graciously seeing the Lord’s hand in delivering me from the hardest parts of chronic illness often lies in the hands of nurses at various medical facilities. They run these places. When a nurse actually delivers care and not just a procedure or worse yet ABUSE, I can endure much. The nurse who shamed me, blamed me for things things at the infusion clinic yesterday that were not my responsibility was out of line. I wept once they pulled the curtain to start my IV fluids. I left there in a weakened state albeit made worse with the needle-stick pain of the Huber needle coming out of the infusa-port in my chest wall. I sat in an outer lobby and cried again before emotionally limping as I left the building to come home. I really hate this stuff. I don’t want to be there. Insurance changes then other problems required me to return to a hospital setting instead of continuing in home health. You have to do what they tell you to do much of the time no matter what it means to you.

We have come into a time of year that means the most to me. It’s springtime. The temperature outside is in the 50s and it’s the same to me as a warm sunny day if I can get dirt underneath my fingernails in a garden. Less severe illness symptoms parts of days a couple of days per week means that I can push myself to do more than my basic self care. And so I have. No one needs to counsel or push me to get up and get moving. If I feel better, activity follows. I don’t want to be sick anymore. I’ve learned a lot but never “got anything” out of being sick. I hate and hated being sick but it happened anyways. The Lord has seen me through it all and is leading me into some new projects. These activities stretch me greatly and increase my pain level temporarily. They also increase my interaction with other people, strengthen my broken body, stimulate my mental capacity, and add value to our home and hopefully the lives of others too. By the grace of God I have earned the title of Extension Master Gardner. By the grace of God he has called me to serve others with these abilities so I have chosen to step out in faith by hosting some community gardening classes and even repairs in our own landscape. Sometimes I have to take things an hour at a time. Steve helps, thankfully! I actually get to check things off of my To Do list! Praise the Lord!

We have no idea what tomorrow will bring nor how long it will stick around. When it’s bad news we all go through a process of questioning: why me? why now? What am I supposed to do to get rid of this or perhaps worse yet, deal with this? I submit to you that the only Person to ask these questions to is the Author of life, the Lord, Jesus Christ. He is the beginning and the end, all that the heart seeks to be fulfilled despite living in a fallen, satanic world. He has a plan and a purpose for each of our lives. Every detail matters and is ordained in His crafting of our days, the days of the entire world and its people. You matter. I matter. And that worth does not change based upon our circumstances, thoughts, or other people. No one wearing a badge can take away your ordained purpose on this earth, on this side of the grave. Even if you die, your life will have made an impact somewhere to someone. And if you believe in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross, you will live on in paradise where everything is perfect, well, good, and beautiful. Thankfully we get glimpses of heaven here on earth, especially in the garden where His fingerprints color the fauna around us.

One of the most compelling truths I have learned enduring serious illness for nearly a decade is to walk softly when considering the hardest questions of life. Nothing is wasted in a life surrendered to the Lord, a life redeemed by the Lord. Everything will be alright in due time. We can bear way more than we think we can. We pray for the Lord to help us when we cannot see or trust, when the pain is too great. He will bless us. And further there is always something for which to be grateful. Even during a pandemic. Even during tyrannical events in society. Even when our relationships or health or finances suffer a seemingly fatal blow. We are not dead yet! We are also never alone. If we but walk softly as we consider the days of our lives then in due time, our precious Savior will reveal Himself to us. The seizure of our spirits will not last forever, Gentle Reader. One day we will know what it means to be truly free. JJ

The TTT

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The Tilt Table Test (TTT) is designed to assess the integrity of a person’s autonomic nervous system. The heart plays a significant role in its function as does the vagus nerve. With so many organ systems tied into the sympathetic (fight of flight) and parasympathetic (calming) fibers of the vagus nerve, one can see how it can affect numerous aspects of a person’s health . . . and ability to function. This is complicated. A TTT may introduce more questions than answers yet sometimes provide the reason a person has not responded to other treatments for seizures. Today, I’m just glad that I survived!

The nurse or examiner administering the test begins by starting an IV in your arm. The patient needs to have been fasting for about 6 hours and cannot have anything to eat or drink until the test is completed as many folks will become nauseous. While there are variations of the TT Test involving medications that increase your heart rate, no medications were used for my test. The purpose of the IV is for the administration of fluids should your blood pressure drop. This usually happens if you faint during the test. If you do faint then your test is considered “positive” and the cardiologist makes his or her diagnosis from there.

The test procedure itself begins with the patient lying on his or her back for 15 minutes on a mechanical bed that tilts up and down from head to toe. Heavy straps are placed over your shins, thighs, and lower chest to prevent you from falling off of the exam table should you faint! (The examiner is supposed to lower the table in the event of a fainting spell, thus ending the test.) After the initial resting period and baseline testing of your vitals (EKG, pulse oximetery, blood pressure, and pulse), the table is inclined to 70 or 80 degrees instead of the 90 degrees our bodies are accustomed to when sitting or standing upright. You stay in this slightly reclined position for 45 minutes or until you faint. Then the table is lowered and you recover over the next 30-60 minutes. My test was scheduled for 1 1/2 to 2 hours. My husband and I left the hospital OVER FOUR HOURS LATER!!!

The nurse tried to start an IV in my right hand but was unsuccessful. The needlestick triggered a 30-minute convulsive episode. My husband applied an ice pack to my hand and eventually I stopped spontaneously seizing, uttering primal screams, and crying. My body was already starting to lose control, my brain felt like it was on fire, and I was unable to straighten my legs for the proper test positioning until the episode had stopped completely. The Charge Nurse came in, talked a lot, then was able to start an IV in my left hand. It hurt badly and this triggered another, less violent convulsive episode. By this time our personal ice pack was melted so the Charge Nurse applied a bag of ice bag over my left hand. Eventually I stopped seizing and crying. The nurse examiner tried to start the test while I was still shaking. I politely declined. He waited. Finally it was time to begin.

Jason RN, elevated the table to 80 degrees. Within about 5 minutes I started to feel lightheaded. My head was swirling inside in a clockwise direction that seemed to be from about the 2:00 position on a clock face to the midnight position. My body didn’t move. I can’t recall exactly which symptom happened next but I do remember that the straps across my shins started to hurt badly. I was placing more of my body weight against them as my legs began to get weak. This feeling of weakness was like water being drained out of a bathtub: little by little in a steady stream my strength was going away, beginning with my lower extremities and working its way upwards.

A few tic zips re-emerged probably 15 minutes into the test. The hospital pillow provided no head and neck support whatsoever. By the grace of God I had anticipated this and brought a neck pillow with me which remained after their hard pillow had fallen off of the table. It remained in place as the tic attack ramped up to an intensity similar to that of the needlesticks although more intermittently than continuous at this point. I started to become afraid of where this thing was headed. I worked as hard as I could to stay calm and not to panic. My body was going into a crisis as the number of symptoms increased along with their severity: headache, burning in the tips of my toes, burning in the tips of my fingers, stomach ache, left-sided neck pain, increased ringing in my ears, feeling chilled and having difficulty breathing. Jason kept asking me how I was feeling but it was getting more and more difficult to speak. Then things got worse.

Eventually my legs became lifeless. It took a heroic effort to straighten or reposition them to alleviate the searing pain against my shins: could I turn my feet out so the pressure was more on the inside of my lower legs? I tried that. Then that hurt too. I had to wait before I could try again. I tried switching back and forth but my ability to do so was failing. Finally I conceded that my legs were going to be bruised no matter what I did so I had to pick a position and stick with it. I found that if I locked my knees together and turned my toes inward, some of the strap pulled against my calves and less on the bony surface of the tibia. With that problem solved I tried to focus on my breathing. It seemed too shallow. Hmmm. What is going on? My body was slowly starting to slump forward like someone was pulling my head forward a quarter inch at a time on a cord. I could not stop it. Was I going to pass out?

Every 2 minutes or so, Jason asked me a question to see if I was still awake. Or maybe alive? My body continued to bend forward like a large sack of flour as my world felt like it was going dim, dimmer still. Around this time I asked how much time was left, we were past the halfway point, yet time had started to stand still. My hunkering down for the duration of the test changed to wondering if I would pass out like I had in bed so many times after bad episodes. When those happen I don’t remember falling asleep. The lights just go out and I wake up hours later with no memory of dreaming, just pain everywhere from head to toe. So if I wasn’t going to pass out this time maybe I could fall asleep?

I tried to let myself go. I was terrified. I was crying. The tears burned on my face. Hair brushing against the side of my cheeks felt itchy-burny. It was all I could do to raise my right arm to wipe my face with my sleeve or move the hair scratching my face to stop the annoyance, the irritating sensations of anything touching my face. And then it was nearly impossible to breathe with the strap cutting underneath my ribs, restricting my diaphragm. I kept saying that I couldn’t breathe. “It’s hard to breathe.” The test continued. “How much time left?” I mumbled. I don’t remember the answer. My husband Steve later confirmed the feeling I had that the left side of my faced was drooping. My tongue felt thick and I couldn’t move it to speak very well. It’s as if the lights were going out on my life. I was not going to faint as can happen with this test. I was going to die.

That’s when my thoughts turned to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, dying on a cross for my salvation. In that moment I got a tiny view into His suffering at Calvary. Crucifixion was designed for maximum suffering until the convicted person died of asphyxiation. The convict would push up on his feet against the wood footplate to catch a gasp of air; in doing so this sent lightening bolts of fiery pain through the body from the nails piercing the nerves and tendons of the feet and hands that bore the weight of his entire body. The body would sag down then perhaps the head would hang as the person longed for death to end the most gruesome misery imaginable. But hanging one’s head obstructed the airway. There was no relief to be found. And our Lord did this for me. The guards pierced His side to make sure Jesus was dead. Through it all, Jesus declined the gall herb offered to ease his pain. He endured it all with a clear mind in a body already beaten and shredded beyond recognition before He was crucified! And then He finished the work of the Cross when He rose again on Easter Sunday. He overcame death and provided a path for all believers to receive eternal life, to be free one day of all suffering and consequences of sin in this fallen world.

cross, calvary, testimony, hospital test, Christian woman, chronic illness, endurance

My recognizing my need for a Savior and accepting His sacrifice years ago thus hath provided a way for me to endure my suffering on that Monday at the hospital. Whether I was going to die, or pass out, or make it to the end of the test fully awake and aware of my surroundings, I was going to be walking with my Jesus through it all. He was there with me in that moment when I simply could not breathe anymore and when the table finally lowered me to safety. In a matter of seconds, the test was over. I endured the TTT and got what I was supposed to understand about my suffering that is coming up on 9 years. Also finally, a medical test actually captured with objective data the hell that I have endured. My heart rate did increase and blood pressure drop although not extremely so. I had marked symptoms. I believe that it was a positive test even though I did not faint. For some reason the Lord kept me awake hanging there as far over as the straps would allow without fainting or dying. In my mind I was just about gone for good. In the Lord’s will, I made it through the most difficult of hundreds of tests in my lifetime.

But it wasn’t over yet. As soon as I was level, my body exploded into the most violent of convulsing that would happen that afternoon matched with gutteral screams, hysterical crying, and gasps for air. I held on for dear life. The episode continued for the next 90 minutes or so while I pleaded with the nurse to call the cardiologist to order IV fluids then check my blood sugar: 76. Thirty minutes into the non-stop convulsing, the infusion started and began to calm me down; it took a snack bar plus another 30 minutes before they would stop completely. I was a beaten puppy, so very broken and battered by the time it was over. The 90-minute infusion restored me enough to speak coherently and walk to the bathroom then later into our truck under my own power, albeit weakly. Over the next 2 days I stabilized. I still feel “buzzed” 3 days after the TTT. I’m also irritated that I don’t have my test results yet as promised. Sigh. That’s healthcare these days. I found out that Jason, RN had only done 10 of these tests since he was transferred to the Heart Institute from ICU a month prior. He was very nice. Regardless, I doubt he should have left me hanging there gasping for air, completely slumped over and hanging from the straps of the tilt table for several minutes. The goal is not to traumatize and torture the patient! I am still horrified by what I endured. I’ve had numerous bouts of crying as my mind flashed back to the ordeal, slowly emerging from a state of shock.

So if you found this blog after Googling “Tilt Table Test” well what can I say? This is probably one of the worst stories out there so don’t worry about it. Yours will very likely be fine. I didn’t vomit and that is good. The TTT results will very likely answer some important questions about my condition, maybe even point the Doctors to a treatment plan that will stop the daily convulsive episodes once and for all. The role of the autonomic nervous system in non-epileptic seizures has never been more clear for me as I start to benefit from targeted vagus nerve stimulation techniques and tools. Even the TMJ/trigeminal nerve interventions are related. Virtually everything I have done to date to try and get well has yielded valuable information if not improvements and personal growth. I have never felt closer to the loves in my life which is valuable indeed. My Stevers continues to be my hero through it all. In the end, the Lord will not waste any of our suffering, joys, or sorrows in His wondrous plans for our lives. Hang on, Gentle Reader. Hang on to that Cross! JJ

When you are afraid of everything

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Every once in awhile I emerge from the fog of battling serious, ongoing illness and realize that the way I view the world is not the same as that of others around me. I am often afraid of everything!

Folks are dressing up for special Christmas celebrations and with it comes perfumes, colognes, hair spray, and lots of pretty/smelly stuff. I just practice what I call a “virtual hug” during greetings and keep my distance from any close contact where something might rub off on me. It’s awkward but works better than being triggered.

Venture out to a social gathering and I’ll wonder what particulate matter rests in both the upholstered seat upon which I am sitting or the coat that the person next to me is wearing. The mycotoxins from mold persist forever and easily transfer from one cloth surface to another. How many of us have our winter coats dry cleaned each year or launder them? Our vehicles and outerwear can carry with them the toxins from anywhere we have visited in the past. Some items simply cannot be cleaned of these toxins. And even if they can be cleaned, who else but another “mold avoider” uses anti-fungal agents like we do when washing clothing? Or tosses coats in the dryer under the sanitize cycle before putting them back into the closet or wearing them again? Probably nobody I know!

We brought a nasty scent home with us inside our new-to-us truck, from a recent trip. The sour smell is from a water-damaged building where any contact has the potential to trigger a violent convulsive episode. Maybe this low level of exposure that remains will somehow de-sensitize me to this type of mold? Yeah, right. The portable ozone machine that we really can’t afford right now, came in the mail from Amazon today. I’m going to try to zap that stinky smell out of there soon and hope that the remaining fragrance in there from the dealership goes with it. Cleaning, vacuuming, essential oils, charcoal packs, or baking soda haven’t worked on the latter. Driving with the window slightly open hasn’t been enough to ward off fatigue and the risk of pre-tic symptoms when I am in there. I need to drive to medical appointments. We will fix this soon, Lord willing.

Sharp, loud noises have become an instant trigger again and quite a nuisance. Twice in the past 10 days, my husband initiated an innocent action that resulted in a high-pitched, short, loud “olfactory stimulus.” Immediately I felt my ear drum move inward and a convulsive episode ramped up quickly thereafter. These are really bad. One happened last weekend as I was riding home with my beloved from a sweet date viewing Christmas lights, listening to music on the radio coordinated with each display. I could barely open my eyes for the last display as the head-banging had not yet subsided; my biggest fear was that the hand I struggled to push near my head wouldn’t adequately stabilize the wrenching of my head/neck. Steve fed me a rescue remedy when we got home while I still sat in the frigid air on the passenger seat of our truck. My left leg dragged as he was eventually able to guide me into the house (with me struggling yet determined to try and walk under my own power and not be carried). We removed my outer layers of clothing in case the scent of the truck was on them; I crashed into bed and slept for over four hours. I woke up in the middle of the night very hungry, ate a very late dinner of sorts, and was not able to sleep again until after sunrise. The new day was trashed. We had already cancelled attending the Holiday Pops concert downtown to avoid loud music. But I love Christmas decorations and music! This really sucks man.

Everywhere from public restrooms to the open door of a neighbor’s home exudes air fresheners these days. A package of new neighbor was accidentally delivered to our home so I thought, neat, I’ll take it over and get to meet them. A waif of something fragrant washed over me as soon as the sweet gal opened the door; “c’mon in!” she offered in a friendly tone. A quick, I can’t due to sensitivities nearly killed that friendly encounter. Fortunately the late fall day was a little milder and she didn’t mind chatting on her front entryway outside of her home. Sigh.

I would LOVE to invite all of our new neighbors over to get acquainted later this Winter. We did this very thing with our neighbors before I got sick and it was a sweet time of fellowship. FOUR of the eight homeowners have turned over in our neighborhood court in which we live. Someone needs to organize a get-together and I wish it could be me and my hubby! I simply cannot do that. I’ll have to wait until the warmer weather comes and we can sit outside on our patio. I guess that’s alright too . . . five months from now when the weather thaws and warms.

We still practice a relatively high level of extreme avoidance that is getting OLD after all these years. Perhaps progress on treating a particular type of sinus infection will reduce my sensitivities. Let’s repair that blood-brain barrier already! I am grateful that I can finally treat the chronic MARCoNS infection that is characteristic of biotoxin illness. This makes me hopeful that maybe more than the olfactory cranial nerves will heal as well. Over time, of course. More time. The trigeminal nerve that gives rise to TMJ pain and had triggered episodes has already healed quite a bit with my specialized dental appliances from a craniomandibular specialist.

These are only a few of the examples of how chemical sensitivity, mold sensitivity, Chronic Inflammatory Response Syndrome (CIRS) play out in a person’s life. Gene expression gets turned on for persons with particular HLA types for mold illness, contributing to abnormal responses to everyday sensory stimuli. Turning it off or lowering it requires removal and avoidance of triggers, various types of testing (home/work/school environment then specific lab testing), dietary changes, and a hierarchy of expensive treatment protocols. I am grateful that not only am I able to tolerate a complex combination of nasal treatments, there are fewer food triggers of symptoms now than in the past. Some of the labs used to diagnose CIRS have normalized or are only slightly elevated. My local Functional Medicine Doctor versed in these protocols will re-test me for MARCoNs early next year. I am hopeful that I can finally clear this infection; the sinus headaches have already subsided. (This Doc is so very nice to me as well! Love that!) The laundry list of other medical conditions that has come alongside this nightmare are not nearly as disabling as CIRS. I never lose hope that many can get better or even be cured this side of heaven, Lord willing.

When you are afraid of everything, it is really really hard to want to try new things, meet new people, or go to new places. My confidence in virtually every aspect of living has suffered. Expertise, proficiency, and tolerance for the work environment of my profession of occupational therapy have eroded and I am not sure that I will ever be able to get it back (or even tolerate working with all of the potential exposures of a clinical setting). Indeed I have developed new skills during this period of time and you are reading one of them right now. I am grateful to have designed several websites and am the editor/assistant editor of 2 publications. Medical research has become a necessary pursuit. These are worth something I suppose and can be done in the middle of the night when needed. Gardening has sustained me throughout these 8 years of battling a serious illness and 6 of them with biotoxin illness in particular. Sometimes I am taking care of our yard or a public rain garden after dark when I feel better but hey, that’s what flashlights are for, right?

Perhaps I need to re-read John Maxwell’s book entitled, Failing Forward. While this time in my life is not my failure per se, the effect of repeated trials and traumas is very similar. Better pull it out again. In life, the opposite of fear is courage and perseverance is a requirement to succeed thereafter. Somehow I do although this has been one of my greatest challenges when feeling like a beaten puppy. Further, some would say that the opposite of fear is love as in the perfect love that comes only from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. For if we truly know His love then nothing in this world can separate us from it, including the powerful tool of fear, fear of failure, fear that things will not change, fear that we are alone to suffer, and so on. The truth is that those in Christ will never again be alone, the same again, or away from the Divine plan and purpose He has for our lives. Knowing this truth brings not only courage to go on but hope. And my Jesus’ love and care has helped me move forward to even get to this day, to think that one day even if it’s in heaven, all will be made new, right, and good. That’s the kind of love in action that obliterates fear.

Sigh. I’m tired tonight. The shingles is healing. Some medical questions are now answered resulting in closing some doors and leaving others precariously open. I’ll need to meditate on these topics some more. Still, I think I have a better perspective, more hope than when I started writing to you, Gentle Reader. Do you deal with fear too? JJ

The Sauna I Once Loved

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Like an old lover that must fade into the background of new life

My sauna must go forth to its new owner, leaving me FIR behind.

She needs it to arrest the cancer in her own body and that of her Mom,

Imagine that: a generational curse that threatens the life between them.

I am happy to pass to them this box of promise, of hope

Bringing them much relief as the toxins melt away with the wavelengths of light.

As for me I am melancholy this day, this night

For I thought I would fare better for the investment therein.

The last of my inheritance was spent the year the Sunlighten entered our home

Hopeful with the promise of a cure from what all ailed me at the time: at first, it was great.

The warmth was undeniable especially on cold Indiana nights

When nothing else would do . . . no nothing else at all.

But did it help purge the alleged chronic Lyme embedded deep within

The bacterium, the viruses, the fungal creatures claimed on imperfect tests?

I may never know as the onslaught hath continued from the rigors of this life

From living in a fallen world hell-bent on our demise, our redemption one day for us all.

Just don’t see how this tool that I once loved, held so much promise

Is worth holding onto longer when all it collects is dust in our living room now.

So onto the next thing I shall be: from the consult of last week to the specialist to come

When in the meantime I know it’s the Lord that is my Great Physician and yours:

The object of my greatest love indeed.

SOLD!!!

When the adventure is inherent in the day

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No fancy definition needed

When the adventure is inherent in the day.

Not exactly a mountain top experience

Or reaching the limits of form and space.

Nor costly in the typical sense of words

For no one wants to spend thousands on health.

Nothing like it in the normal world

But for me it’s no, not, nor, nothing then let’s go anyways.

The effort to live with serious illness

Even when the trials are less to write about

Are no smaller challenge, adventure shall we say

Because you really don’t know the outcome when you head out the door.

There may be pictures (scans), adrenaline rushes (injections) oh my,

Better hold on sissies, cause there ain’t no manual when you decide to try.

And try I have, a thousand times over

To some avail with microscopic progress, not perfection by any means.

Today was no exception as my head swum with radioactive tracer

Driving down the road hungrier, less self-assured, ready to make it anyways.

So what’s in your adventure portal?

The one with an open-ended plan

Make room for the derailments of this life

‘Cause nothin’ better than that Gentle Ones. ‘K Lord, let’s go!