In More Ways Than One

I haven't read the online news like I usually do each morning. I'm afraid I'll believe a lie that it could take more time than I wanna devote to what might just turn out to be mere gossip. I did that a week ago and in an instant became convinced the bastards over at the VA endoscopy department intend to use an exploratory procedure to murder me through feigned carelessness. Two hours after I got through talking to the very people who would be performing or supervising the procedure, I'm reading about how carelessness and not sterilizing the cameras between uses has been the ruin of many a po' boy.

I got a few copies of the CNN headline news article about a Senate investigation into the incurable diseases veterans are getting from unsterilized equipment. It didn't just scare me, it frightened me deeply, and everyone I've talked to about it thinks I'm being ridiculous and naive. The technicians involved wouldn't knowingly put their patients in needless jeopardy.

They're telling this to a person who had an ancient saying drilled into him while handling 5" artillery shell projectiles like buckets in a fire brigade. "Remember men, familiarity breeds contempt, you gotta remember that what you're getting familiar with doing, and possibly becoming contemptuous of, and getting careless... if you get careless with one of these projectiles carrying 55 pounds of explosives... and every man in line has 55 pounds of explosives in their hands to boot... allowing yourself to daydream while resupplying a warship can result in death."

Both of the technicians or doctors who held the pre-op sessions with me told me directly that they each had over twenty years experience doing the procedure I am scheduled to have performed. They seemed to hold me in contempt while we were conversing. I literally got pissed and spoke up to one of them about her condescending attitude and addressing me as a child. To her credit, she apologized, and from then on she appeared to be sincere about doing the right thing by me and by herself.

I'm sure I would be just as apprehensive about undergoing this procedure if I had not seen the news article. They're gonna so some rude stuff to me, hopefully for a ethical and moral end. It's a sort of run-of-the-mill procedure. Both my brother's have had it done, but they had it done in a civilian hospital that can be sued up the yingyang for proven carelessness. I can't sue the government if the instruments aren't sterilized, and the diseases I will probably get from whoever got the procedure done earlier that morning won't know my ass from a hole in the ground.

It seems like to me that just by having this exploratory procedure done to find out if there is anything unusual going on in my colon that I'm putting my life at risk un-necessarily. Sure, I'm scared of what the cameras might find in there as much or more than anything else, but I'd like to be fairly sure that's the only thing I gotta deal with. Unseen enemies have always brought a lethal feeling to my fear.

I can't imagine anybody reading about my personal problems, but this is how I've always dealt with them. I've written them out where I could "see" all the possibilities of dangerous situations if I've had time. Many times I haven't, and only survived by wit and grit. I don't expect it to work forever. I expect my final words to be, "Rats, foiled again."

I'm becoming convinced the reason learning and using astrology and the scientific method lead to the same end. The system one uses doesn't seem to matter. After I had my remembering vision at the age of thirty years old I started studying the occult. It started out by my following this guy around the country and learning to do the Tarot layouts, but then it became apparent that pretty much all the occult is base on astrology, and once I found a method that didn't reek of black magic I went about learning it in the same way I learned anything else. No stone left unturned.

I can't imagine a person attracted to the scientific method in the way I was to the occult would go about learning what they needed to get started just as pedantically. Over the years, and in particular the last decade, I've grown to think that my ability to concentrate for long periods of ti-me could be associated with some form of autism. People really seem discombobulated when I reach for answers beyond the consideration of their presence. It's like they're not there, and they seem to hate it.

I like the results I get from withdrawing from current events. There's nothing mystical about it. I'm merely daydreaming and considering wot's sot before me by the me-singer I created to go find the proof I need to carry on with my verbal assault of their senses with shock and awe. The simple fact that I can reach plausible solutions to their imaginary problems sometimes leaves them rolling in the aisle, and others are left with the need for a Heimlich maneuver from choking on their own bile. '-)

The people who created nuclear power put together something that only occurred in nature and maybe only randomly then. I'm suggesting that before electrons became 'named things' they were no such things in themselves. People used the scientific method to create electrons, much less atomic or hydrogen weapons.

What I'm contemplating presently, mostly on the back burner, is that I created the arthritis and osteoporosis I've been diagnosed with because that's what my natal chart in astrology predicted I'd have health problems with. I think it happens in the same way that the pearls have created via imitation and mimicry the units of life they have put together as an attempt to escape back into open space where they came from.

It's an incremental, inch-by-inch dealio, such that, as in my particular case, by the ti-me I figured out how this happened, I had become too aged to undo the mess I'd made of my skeletal system. Foiled again. Why am I always the last to know?

I've given myself until tomorrow to make a final decision about having the colonoscopy procedure canceled. It seems like a form of suicide if I don't go along for the ride, unsterilized cameras or no, because I could have serious, but repairable damage in my colon; and yet another form of suicide because I've become more and more aware that allowing the procedure to be performed could provide me with worse problems than I already have.

It's not like I have anybody around to talk to about this. I know who I'd like to talk to about it, but I've only met them once or twice. Odd that, and totally unacceptable. It's a bit of a moral or ethical problem, but without me knowing for sure what those kind of problems are. I may be too much of a coward to stand up for myself, and if that proves to be true, why would I want to live forever? I'm familiar with suicide-by-cop, but this is another proposition all together. I may require more ti-me to adjust, but I ain't got long in more ways than one.