NITROGEN & LSD

We spent the morning saying goodbye. The pain from my eye was unbearable. It started Friday morning and continued through the examination by the physician. He put a soft contact lens over the cornea to keep it from leaking and help it heal. The prognosis was not good. 

It was time.

Saturday morning I took a quarter tab and we held each other....crying; there seemed no way to ease it. Finally work had to be done...there were cats in need. She took me to Phoebe.

Phoebe - A moon of Saturn

We stood in the street and hugged one last time. As tears ran down our faces, she said, "See yuh later." and soon drove off.

The acid enabled me to focus. I was clear on my decision....or so I thought.

I spent an hour or so delving for unresolved issues. I found only minor anxiety at the unknown and the terrible pain of "leaving." 

I opened the tank valve and put on the mask. I then opened the secondary valve on the line. The force of the gas blew my cheeks out and I couldn't breath. I removed the mask and moved the control valve to lower the pressure. This was my mistake. I should have shut off the gas and adjusted the regulator. 

With the mask close to my face the escaping gas caused me to lose consciousness. The mask then must have fallen away but close enough to have an effect. The blood drained from my face; my skin turned grey and mottled and my lips went purple...near death....but not quite. 

At some point I regained consciousness. The lucidity, considering, was surprising. I attributed it to the LSD. But I also blame the drug for my failure. It impaired my ability to shut down the process and adjust the regulator...or was there a subconscious resistance? 

I looked down and saw the line-valve was wide open! I was sure I'd moved it to lower the pressure. Post event conjecture leads me to think I intended to move the valve but lost consciousness before I actually did.

The tank was empty. And no backup plan.

I lay back and enjoyed the irony of regaining consciousness unharmed. It crept onto my face. I was disappointed at my lack of preparedness.

Photo by Michelle Cook

Michelle's relief was terrible to see.

Monday we watched an interview with Katie Engelhart, author of The Inevitable: Dispatches on the Right to Die.  Engelhart pointed out how every other country that has physician-assisted dying also has free health care. Whereas in this country they're slooooowly legalizing physician-assisted dying, but not free health care. The inference is obvious: Once they're dead they won't NEED health care; it's cheaper to help them die.

Below is the blurb that accompanied the invitation from Greenlight Bookstore...

'Reporter Katie Engelhart presents her new book The Inevitable, a riveting, incisive, and wide-ranging book about the Right to Die movement, and the doctors, patients, and activists at the heart of this increasingly urgent issue. Engelhart focuses on six people representing different aspects of the debate. Spanning North America, Europe, and Australia, The Inevitable offers a deeply reported and fearless look at a morally tangled subject. It introduces readers to ordinary people who are fighting to find dignity and authenticity in the final hours of their lives. Larissa MacFarquhar, author of Strangers Drowning, joins Engelhart in conversation at this virtual book talk.'

I'll get the tank refilled and reset the regulator.

We Got the T-Shirt

Last Thursday we had to tell Chaz, our instructor, we were gonna take a break. Between my waning stamina and our waning finances, it was a no-brainer.

As an Until-We-Meet-Again gift, Chaz gave us each the t-shirt.

Gracie Barra Juijitsu

 

THANKS, Chaz!

P.S. Post eye meeting: The day after we got the t-shirts, yesterday, Dr. Alexander Davis, Director of the Southwest Combined Cornea and Glaucoma fellowship, advised wearing a patch to avoid rubbing....or worse. (See: The Annoying Eye)

P.P.S. The painting above Michelle's head is titled Geeks Bearing Gifts; it's by Laurel Weathersbee. I can't recall when or where we got it, sometime in the '90s, I think. It's always been a favorite and, as with other favorite's, hangs above Michelle's bed.

The one hidden behind my (phat) head & (skinny) phone, is a watercolor by Henry Gasser. Purchased sometime in the 1950s by Michelle's grandmother for $60.00, his work has been selling at auction (recently) for over $14,000.00.

The Annoying Eye

Met with Dr. Alex Davis at UNM Indian School Rd eye clinic.

He diagnosed a hole in my left cornea, prescribed a regimen of antibiotic and gel drops.

He said there isn't anything that relieves eye pain and had seen Navy SEALS who had broken down from the pain. (I've since been advised there ARE drugs available for pain relief, but this country's obsession with drug-abuse use is so virulent one has to DEMAND pain killers.)

He said if bacteria enters the eye and works its way to the brain the pain can be beyond excruciating. And once that occurs, there's not much to be done and it is often fatal.

I asked about having the eye removed. He said they don't like to operate on people (like me) with heart issues as administering the anesthetic is tricky and the patients frequently die...which is upsetting. (You'd think they'd be inured. Hey! It happens.)

The Leaking Eye

Finally home after a long day of cat-sits, judo and grocery shopping. I was exhausted. 

As we sat in the car I told her I can feel myself growing a liiiiiitttle weaker every day. If I force myself to exercise I get so tired afterward I have to take a nap...sometimes for several hours. Will loading -- when in the wilds --  necessitate a pre-move nap? Fortunately, the days will be long enough it'll probably work for the middle months of the summer.

Seeing the impact of these guys "leaving" is pretty tough. Karen's still upset over Ralph (it's starting to get a little better after 4 years), but then Keith, and a few months ago Duane, one of Michelle's assistants (he was only 33 but had wrangled depression for years), and now Fred (Keith's Dad). The implications of one's own departure are impossible to ignore. And I'm still speculating on when to pull the plug;  I definitely don't want to get caught in the throes of "the system" through some inadvertent misstep or, god help me, incapacitation. 

They've been testing various psychedelics on terminal cancer patients for years and have had good results with alleviating the pre-death anxiety. I've had three pre-journey zoom meetings with a guide who does integrative counseling for psychedelic journeyists. 

The other day, in a discussion about perspective,  he said "I'm not trying to convince you of anything, just offering food for thought." Journeys are so ineffable...especially the high-dose ones. It helps to have confidence in the guide, but it's almost impossible not to convey SOME perspective. And it can be EXTREMELY difficult, as anyone who's "experienced" knows, to guide (help) someone toward finding their own answers without influencing them....esp when every micro-nuance of prosody is evident and/or open for interpretation.

Now time to get ready to leave for the leaking-eye appt.

First Anniversary - Heart Attack

I was camped at the edge of the Mt. Wrightson Wilderness 40 miles south of Tucson when, out of the blue, I started vomiting. My vision began to tunnel and I recognized the signs of fading consciousness; there was an intense pain in my chest. I figured I should move down to the pavement so someone would find my body before it stank up the car. (When camped in the wilds, people leave each other alone unless hailed.)

Once at the pavement I found a wide spot, pulled over and called Michelle to give her my GPS coordinates. The pain increased until I was uninhibitedly screaming. I writhed over the shift knobs (Phoebe has a long one for her five forward gears and reverse and a short one for the two ranges of four-wheel-drive) for about 20 minutes or so with Michelle listening in. 

I managed to channel some of the pain into the repressed rage Alice Miller rights about in Banished Knowledge.

After the attack subsided I spent the remainder of the afternoon (on adrenaline) exploring the desert. 

Back at camp the evening went fairly normally (all things are relative), but later I was awakened by angina; I turned on the phone to see the time and, as it came on, it rang. I was astonished to hear Allen Rasmussen, a recent acquaintance, calling to see how I was. It was 3:00 a.m., perzackly.

I complained about the angina -- it was bothersome -- and we formulated a plan (Allen was a retired  coronary care specialist) to meet at the emergency entrance to St. Mary's hospital in Tucson.

At St. Mary's I had to lean heavily on Allen in order to make it to the emergency room. There, they did an EKG and determined I was (still) in the throes of a myocardial infarction. They plugged in some morphine, gave me an aspirin and strongly suggested surgery...RIGHT NOW! I declined. 

Once the morphine worked its magic and I'd convinced everyone I wasn't interested in further treatment, they released me. The release however, was against their advice (they REALLY wanted to do surgery) so they proffered no medications.

Curious, a few days later I went to Pima Heart (the local cardiology magnates) and signed up for a transradial angioplasty. This $90,000.00 operation -- performed by Dr. Morales -- disclosed both main arteries totally blocked and unstentable. (Stents are popular for holding open arteries that have narrowed from accumulated plaque.) Dr. Morales recommended bypass surgery; I declined. He prescribed some meds. Dr. Vanessa Cole Marin -- at Presbyterian Hospital in Albuquerque -- is now supervising my care.

Nine years ago, an injury to my left eye resulted in a scarred cornea such that I look a bit like one of those Husky-type dogs with different-colored eyes. The eye has been oozing yellow-matter-custard for several weeks so yesterday I went to have it checked. Dr. Tran (graduated last year from ophthalmology school in Pennsylvania) said that blinking -- and olde age -- had worn a hole through the scar and my eye was leaking out. Lacking a slit-lamp camera, a DSLR that attaches to the microscope used to examine patients' eyes, he used his cell phone camera and texted the photos to their cornea specialist. They suggested a cornea transplant but said some super-glue would hold it for a while. They didn't have any glue and I left with a referral to the "other" clinic.

We'll see (no pun intended).

Another Solstice Past

The Denuding of the Tree marks the end of the occasion. We have, in years of yore, managed to make it into April. But it was beginning to drop its leaves and the time seemed right. 

We had a supervisor cat keeping a close eye (upper right of photo).

And a SPLENDID Solstice It Was

Accordion Noir

Ruthlessly pursuing the idea the accordion is just another instrument.

Listen on CFRO 100.5FM at:

• Wednesday 10-11pm - Vancouver, British Columbia time

Homepage - http://www.accordionnoir.org/

http://www.coopradio.org/content/accordion-noir

Ladies Accorion Orchestra of the U.K.

Bioneers Celebrate Paul Stamets

 

Late breaking news.

Posted to Youtube "just the other day," January 13, 2021.

Things are heating up! My paranoia rises. How will they "put down" the revolution THIS time? As we oldsters take over -- it's always the olde folks who have the money, power, political pull -- how will the "experienced" (Remember Jimi's song? He starts at 1:44) cope with the off-shore fundamentalists and the Trump supporters? 

Are You Experienced?

Jimi Hendrix

If you can just get your mind together
Then come on across to me
We'll hold hands an' then we'll watch the sun rise from the bottom of the sea
But first

Are you experienced?
Have you ever been experienced?
Well, I have

I know, I know
You'll probably scream n' cry
That your little world won't let you go
But who in your measly little world are trying to prove that
You're made out of gold and -a can't be sold

So-er, are you experienced?
Have you ever been experienced?
Well, I have

Ah, let me prove it to you
Trumpets and violins, I can hear in the distance
I think they're calling our names
Maybe now you can't hear them, but you will
If you just take hold of my hand
Ah! But are you experienced?
Have you ever been experienced?
Not necessarily stoned, but beautiful...

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Jimi Hendrix

Are You Experienced? lyrics © BMG Rights Management

When I talked with Jason in Silverton he said the town had been almost equally split for and against the store. But over the months the tax money had enabled them to raise the salaries of their teachers, buy new equipment for the fire and police departments and the city coffers were now full. All this with NO increase in crime. It was hard for the nay-sayers to maintain their position.

It should be entertaining.