The Daily {W}write April 2020 wk. o1

So, here it is, April and I plan to write a lot. One more month until my birthday. Well, a little more than a month. I love the month of April. Winter is now a memory. Even though it wasn't that bad of a winter. Went to Walmart today. Trump's stupid, idiotic news conference:  "You’re talking about 2.2 million deaths,” Trump said, referring to an Imperial College study that identified 2.2 million people as the high end of how many Americans could die if no measures were taken to slow the spread of coronavirus. “So, if we can hold that down, as we’re saying, to 100,000, it’s a horrible number, maybe even less, but to 100,000, so we have between 100 [thousand] and 200,000, we altogether have done a very good job.” -Vox.  Really hit home with everybody. Lots of surgical masks floating through Walmart. Signs on the floor showing everybody the sic foot rule. Even the counter at the pharmacy is blocked off so you have to lean over a little to pay for the prescription. And walking around pushing that cart. Everybody frightened to even pass someone while going down a skinny aisle to get toilet paper or paper towels, AND both TP and PT are regulated. You can only buy so much at one time. It is an adventure. 

Thursday, April o2, 2o2o

I look out the window at the empty streets, the empty parking lots . . . where are the squirrels running from tree to tree? Where are the sparrows bathing in the pothole on the corner of Felgar and Trout, yes, the sparrow's swimming hole that always seems to be full of muddy waters? And crows and eagles the random Beechcraft Bonanza airplane heading for the local airport? I don't like this world where everything that makes the world the world has disappeared, gone, like magic . . . gone.
I wrote this last night. Before falling to sleep. Pretty much the whole world is COVID-19 focused these days. Can't help it, really. I mean, we all grew up on the zombie apocalypse movies and . . . this virus thing sure does feel like the same thing. All of us The Walking Dead. What? We are zombies?! No. Actually, the reference to The Walking Dead  in the TV show is a metaphor for the human characters and not the flesh eaters. AND the origin of the name The Walking Dead refers to the 1/9 infantry division, USMC. During the Vietnam War, the 1/9 sustained the highest casualty rate in Marine Corps history.  Hence, the name. 

8:21 pm 

Lately, my attention has time-warped to my time in Vietnam. Maybe COVID-19 reminds me of those times. Not sure how they fit together . . . but as far as personal experience goes, they seem to be related in some way . . . at least, in my mind. Who knows. The only problem with being on house arrest? The ghosts keep showing up. The ghosts! For me, I've always thought that memories were the only ghosts that haunt me, all of us. But I have to be careful. Friends of mine are very much into the supernatural. ALL of my friends have seen . . . a ghost! I doubt it . . . but then again . . . how could I know? So, I came up with this little saying that lets me walk that tightrope between believing and not believing in the supernatural: I don't believe in ghosts/And hope that ghosts/Don't believe in me . . . 

Friday, April o3, 2o2o
3:42 am

Just a few words as I wait for the morning coffee to get done. I should explain my coffeemaker broke down last week or so. The hot plate still works so instead of replacing this one I decided to just heat some water and pour it through the filter by hand. It just takes a while to heat up the water and then cup by cup pour it over the coffee grounds. 
10:32 pm

Sorry. Not much writing today. Well, not writing on the blog but I did a marathon on a poem today . . . 64 lines. 4 lines of footnotes. Pretty damn good poem, I think. But not going to post it here. Look for it on Facebook.

Okay, I'm again gonna cut it short because I'm binging a TV series (two seasons), American Gods. You know, I watched it a while back and loved it . . . but I barely remember it. So, this binge is like watching it for the first time. 

Saturday, April o4, 2o2o
Went out to get food. We went to Walmart for food items I can't get anywhere else in town. David likes the mouthwash from Walmart, don't know why. I guess because it's cheaper. The Pepperidge Farm Whole Grain Bread, German Dark Wheat is a favorite of mine. Gotta taste to it, a little bitter, strong. Mmm. Anyway, David talked to someone in Walmart to have a trash can out in the parking lot so we could throw away things like empty coffee cups from Starbucks. He wrote about it on Facebook and boy! People really came out to tell him (and indirectly me) that he shouldn't be going to Walmart . . . because . . . well, they said because it's not safe but the real reason seems to be some kind of political vendetta people have against Walmart. I don't like that. I don't like people using this Orange Plague we are suffering through as some kind of way to upgrade a political belief.

Sunday, April o5, 2o2o
Wow! Post this poem on Facebook:

So, I got over 72 likes for this poem! And 67 comments! The comments are mostly dealing with how sorry my Facebook friends are to hear about my fight against cancer. And a few of these friends I haven't ever heard from before! That's the power of dying, guys! Okay, I shouldn't be acting silly about cancer. AND I really do appreciate from every area in my heart the love people are showing me. And I plan to write more about my cancer and how it's going with me. I got a little sidetracked with writing poems revolving around my thoughts on  COVID-19. But I'm back to writing my cancer poetry and I plan to document my journey through the cancer jungle.  P.S. The pic above with me getting a blood transfusion was taken by David Slemmons and messed with on LunaPic by me. My favorite cancer pic of me. P.S.S. I do not understand what is going on with my blog site but it's driving me crazy!

Tuesday, April o7, 2o2o

I missed yesterday. Sorry. Mondays are just bad for me because Mondays are when I go back to oncology to give blood so they can see how I'm doing . . . getting better, or dying tomorrow. So, always the night before I get depressed and worried about what's going to happen with my blood test. And I wind up not able to sleep and get maybe an hour of dream time before I gotta get up, dress and head for the 8:00 a.m. appointment. So, after the test and going back to get a transfusion at 2:00 p.m., when I get home . . . so tired! And yet I can't sleep. Just wait around and what for my body to just fall into unconsciousness at its own speed. Pic is of a chemo cat nap. First and only time they gave me a bed to lay down in during a blood transfusion session.