Not the same as the motorcycle diaries. Gilbert on a leash chewing on sticks and dog toys. He’s got a particular desirable green sea monster with yellow carrot top. I’m here with a Mac Pro Lap top. I’m typing. I’m communicating mind through fingers creating digital symbolic characters onto pixillated screen. Chemical neuosynapsis translating into the external world. My amygdala seems less involved. The dorsal amygalla not at all. The occipital is at play. I expect the frontal lobe is engaged. I’ve nothing particular to say.
I just walked Gilbert along the river. He didn’t want to go further. Balked. Happy to return again. On the weekend it was Laura but tonight it’s something he smells. There’s bears and coyotes in the area. I have a sense it’s that or Liberals. Something that smells foul. There is the smoke in the air. That’s been from the hundreds of fires burning up north. Australian firemen are flying in. We hear Trudeau has put loggers out of work by given attitude to America. Playing to the cheap seats as employment goes and taxes rise and poverty strikes more.
I’m a doomsayer. Children’s voices are shouting and squealing playing ball nearby. There’s a basketball court. There’s a swimming pool too. I could go there. But I was hungry when I came home from the clinic. Microwaved some frozen venison stew I had and ate it with half a box of crackers watching Ghostbusters. I just caught the tail end of Sigourney Weaver’s sexiest scene of all time. It was funny. I watched a little while going through my mail. It was a slow day at the clinic. I enjoyed the people I saw. Seeing recovery in action is uplifting. I knock the government too much because today they provided a way to get Revia for people without funding. Revia is a remarkable anti craving drug that empirically halves the intake of alcohol for people who take it. Helps reduce food craving too. Problem had been cost. Only private plans cover it. Thank you provincial government. I liked Christy Clark but have hope for the NDP despite their historic service only for the unions. It’s just politics. Above my pay grade. Provincially the folk have done a good job that I’ve seen. I liked the provincial liberals, such a strong centrist party compared to the sharia communism of the federals.
Now I’m sitting at a picnic table with the sun going down in the west, little streaks of orange reaching into the sky.
I’ve been reading alot. Just speed reading, beach books, thrillers, sci fi, westerns, eroticism of every ilk. Amazon sells the little short books for a $1-3 Kindle. I’ve been studying the genre. The heterosexual erotic has a guy taking a good girl and turing her into a whore, whereas for the women it’s virginous girl and a rich or powerful guy turning her into a whore then marrying her. for the transexuals its a ‘surprise’, or a guy being sissified, where as for the gay men it’s a straight athlete power guy turning out to be gay, and for the lesbians a lot of drama. I read a sci fi counter point to that with ships being blasted and torpedoed and layered. Then a couple of brothers got into bar fights one after a mother. Then in the history of scotland I’m reading I’ve learned about all the saints and mythical figures. I’m plodding through that. Alongside thatI’ve a travel book of Oxford. Again going more slowly. I must have read 8 or 9 beach reads over the weekend while loving Wilber Smith, Cry Wolf , the story of the Italian invasion with mustard gas of Ethiopia, the massacres’, the glorious defence, the League of Nations doing nothing, planes and tanks against horse, the Coptic Church being decimated. I have been reading about the Muslim persecution of the Copitic Christians in Egypt. The rise of thee Muslim Brotherhood in Turkey.
This weekend I read so much. Felt like the academic years where I’d always have 3 or 4 books on the go, one novel to spead my reading, as well as a classic.
Gilbert and I walking along the river. I took pictures. I was listening to Mumford and Sons.
I rode the Harley Electroglide 1600 cc bike to work and back .I can take the HOV lane. Gilbert had spent the morning and after noon alone but had me for lunch time. I loved playing Stairway to Heaven full volume barrelling down the highway. I saw Lead Zeppelin and ended up on stage with Robert Plante having done acid at that concert. They were telling people to come to the hospital tents that the acid was laced and deadly. I didn’t go. I now know that as a nocebo and true or not it gave some people a really bad trip. I survived. But you never know after induced psychosis or involuntary psychosis is it’s all gone. There’s a strangeness and alienation to the world that you wonder is it the drugs coming out of the fat cells or are people really this stupid. I’m working in the midst of utter insanity. Sane in insanity.
I’m logging in. Gilbert’s tuckered out by the walk. We didn’t see the heron. Met a couple of dogs. Gilbert’s a social creature. I’m not. I’m winding down to IDAA. Each year is like this. I’m feeling more like invasion of the body snatchersx. The Capgrass comes on and you humour yourself with old soul young soul thoughts and think about there being no race. We’re all in this together. But the Jungian collective unconscious kicks in. I’m sleeping well. Having great dreams. Difficult getting out of bed. Difficulty getting out of he house. Coffee and showers help. I’m tired. Lots of conflicting messages. Constant threat. The government has so many of us under constant soul destroying threat. Lies and threats and abuse of power. Nimbyism and the banality of evil. I think of walking away but it’s really not that bad. So much perception. It’s killing me. Im dying. There’s the stress but I’ve no real call to do else. My friend is building her mission in Somalia. I think I did my time in that regard on the reserves. I think of the meningitis epidermis, delivering babies, otitis media, diabetes, gun shot wounds, infections and kidneys. It was never ending a decade of that. And still I see physical illness and try to follow the best practices, latest protocol but know I’m just doing the best I can feeling the threat and yet knowing if I don’t do something nothing will get done.
My HIV patient who was supposed to be with high priced access team hasn’t had his HIV meds in 6 months. I liked that I cared for such things but he’s fallen through the cracks again, crazy as a loon, paranoid. Maybe he’s in jain. My patients come and go. Some are in jail. Some in hospital. Then they return or they’re dead. In my other practice the years pass and I am astonished that I first met someone a decade or so ago and they’re back. I was reminded of a gentleman I saw 5 years ago. Some I ‘m surprised they’re alive. It’s not healthy living grand central station. The holistic suburban preventive groups have their magic wands. They ward off the negative thoughts. Mine come with open wounds and major bruises, knife wounds. Addiction is a harsh life. It’s sad. But we’re all campered looking over our backs. Sent in to face death and disease with all those who lead from the back terrified.
I’m tired The sun is down and the sky is still light. Lovely green on grey blue. Children’s voices more subdued. Gilbert lying with his head up sniffing the breeze.
Thank you Lord for another wonderful summer day. Thank you for the work and chance to be of service. Guide me in what it is you would have me do. Show me the way. Thy way, not my way, be done. Thank you for everything Lord. Thank you