Tag Archives: illness

Thunderstorms in the Crash Years – Postcard #75

Pod cover - postcards from gravelly beach - thunderstorms in crash years

Amidst a thunderstorm at 4AM in Chiang Mai, Dave discusses – with excessive frankness and emotion – various medical conundrums (Fibromyalgia and CFS-ME) and details the physical feelings of “crash mode” as well as the mental strain in dealing with self de-identification and inter-personal relationships, confusion in seeking help, and various alternative treatments. No sympathy or advice requested.

Always be kind for: Thunder in the Crash Years – Postcard #75
(75MB, 37:09, mp3, stereo)

Continue reading Thunderstorms in the Crash Years – Postcard #75

Dog days of healing

Sure don’t enjoy talking about, or even acknowledging cause feels like i’m conceding power & spreading sadness, but… fck me, the fibro + me/cfs etc really got me achey bleary today. I’ll be alright, just saying here rather than hollering out-loud and weirding folks out.

from Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/BcSM1LplRyg/

Medications versus Gurus

Muscles atrophy
And nerve endings are tingling
Do you attempt to ignore,
When facing reality?

Pain owns you
No matter your positivity
Medications and Gurus
Are temporary
And you are left alone

Parents gone, love faded, friends confused, and all unintendedly wrong

Return’d

you ask me why i want to return
you say those exact words
you know it’s different now
and not sure it works

yeah i understand the notion
my old world’s moved on
like the cast of a tv sitcom
changing colonels for captains

the answer is simple
if you’d pause for empathy
the work or tribes
not the point

it’s what return means for
coming back i’ll tell you
simply indicates i’m stronger
healed enough to leave home

can ride the pony longer
almost long 4 years now
sure wasn’t perfect before
stuck in a deep foggy haze

i just need something more
more than doctors appointments
and bus rides, injections and pills
endured too many therapists and quackery

mistaken strangers for best friends
i’ve lost too much than i can count
parents, loves and pals
self-esteem and a paycheque

though to you it looks so easy

Of logistics and papers of health conundrums…


Hey Pals, remember a week or so ago when I was feeling so blue and grousing about all this paperwork and the anxiety and the stress it causes…?

Well after a mighty effort yesterday, everything is packaged into four envelopes to mail to various government offices, doctors, insurance companies and so on.

But I’ll tell you, it was no fun emotionally or mentally as i listed all the different doctors, treatments, modalities and so on for the past three years. And the net result is of no benefit to me as they simply take out the Canada pension plan disability pymt from my private insurance disability payment (Which, don’t get me wrong I’m incredibly grateful to receive otherwise I would be living in a tarpaper shack by now).

Telling you this as a “victory lap” since I didn’t go out to celebrate with pints and joints till 4:20 AM (instead took a long hot bath with Japanese bath salts, three kinds of soap and some nice tunes in a dark bathroom) 

Plus telling you this so I can let you know I truly appreciate each of you for acknowledging me when I’m losing my shit, offering to help, letting me know that you care and that I’m not invisible.

I know I’m not a real peach to be around these days and as much as I try to be positive and optimistic, there is no mental strength I have to stop wondering “what if?”…

I’ve gotten closer to acceptance in that I accept that I will never be the guy I used to be, and progress will be slow but there is more out there for me to do. 

My revolutions are now much more gentle and usually done from the comfort of a bed.

But truly, thanks, I often regret sharing this shit with all of you since everyone has lives and responsibilities and expectations and problems but, it’s what I know how to do.

Did I mention thanks and that I adore you?

I’ll add a photo of something as people seem to enjoy those :-) and now that I’m done, perhaps I’ll share a new batch of music for your ears soon to overwhelm all the negativity, violence and politics and religion and nonsense in the world.

Occasionally, Dave

Notes about erstwhile healing cycles and conundrums

It’s a super fucked up (and even vicious) cycle.

It goes like this:

  • Start feeling a wee bit better
  • Get vaguely happy & optimistic
  • Begin scheduling coffee dates, chitchats and thinking about future plans
  • Go for walks, write postcards, make scrapbooks, meditate, sign up for tai chi class etc.
  • Somehow, amongst all these good healthy lifestyle growing healing activities, you managed to do too much and crash
  • Spin & struggle for days – which often turn into weeks – trying to regain some sense of equilibrium and strength and brainpower
  • This is difficult so you spend more time meditating, taking hot baths, buying more supplements, more medical appointments, more reading literature about these conditions….
  • Then you feel lousy because you’ve had to cancel appointment, haven’t contributed anything meaningful to the human conversation for days, haven’t mail postcards, I haven’t written a damn poem or a story or crafted nothing…
  • Wonder what it is like to sleep… Consider extreme measures… Realize you’ve tried all extreme measures… Flip and flop and twist and turn and get up and walk around and stretch and all of a sudden it’s 5 AM and you haven’t slept again
  • Have a long cry, a long hot bath and try to shake out the negativity which comes from not “doing anything” because you remember that doing isn’t important it’s “being” but still you’re frustrated because just getting out of the apartment takes a Herculean effort
  • Wonder what’s next and hope folks are patient with the shit you’re going through, question your own relevancy moving forward.

Jamaica Re-entry, Notes about Videos and Illness

Artifacts of Healing in Jamaica

Just over a week ago, i returned from Jamaica for the 3rd time. This trip’s purpose wasn’t the fun-loving, adventuring, goodtimes i usually seek but rather to heal up and gain some vigour and physical and mental power to continue my healing journey.

In just over 6 months since i was diagnosed, my life’s routine changed significantly. And, as a social and tribal/community-minded person, the self/syndrome-sparked isolation was required as i tried to learn about “what just happened to me” … along with a litany of medial appointments, combined to really remove me from a sense of control, flow and calm.

I was accompanied on this Jamaican trip by 2 trusted co-conspiritors plus knew i was going to a familiar place where people genuinely care for me and want to see me at my former full-power mode of near invincibility and tireless creativity.

Then, 36 hours before leaving, i took a quick Vespa ride to pick up a couple little gifts and ended up in VGH Emergency Room after wiping out and crashing up my face, arm, leg the Vespa etc. Somehow the hospital felt familiar though i’d never visited before – i suppose so many hospital visits in the past few months makes the beige chaos of a hospital common to me.

Also that day, my phone was cut off so i wandered out of the hospital confused and aching. Finally made the stoopid decision to ride the Vespa home (both the machine and the rider were in no condition to do so).

Anyhow, there we were in Jamaica – my pals out swimming and exploring while i was convalescing with icepacks and my assigned program of pills. I don’t enjoy this process.

After a week of waking up late in the day, grumpy, frustrated and blue, really blue, i tried to rally and get out in the world. I tried to roll with my pals (both foreign and domestic) but was just kidding myself. My “energy envelope” lacked the capacity for anything but chilling – otherwise the symptoms of weak, weary, confused, achey, grumpy, depressed all creep in.

I dislike all of this. But I tried to meditate my way out of it, distract myself with filling my handmade notebooks with schemes and plans, sipping a bit more rum and other potions, teas and trying to eat something. Also, my meds were running out and required a trip to a clinic, a Dr visit and pills delivered by a resourceful cabbie called Pablo. All this was to much.

The meds running out made me confused and grumpy but occasionally, i could feel my “real Dave brain” wanting to talk with strangers, build community, create conversations, find musicians. I could feel the ideas, just not how to execute them. That part simply turned to mush.

During all this healing and mental transition, i realized more time was needed in Jamaica to ensure i go home feeling better than before. Not perfect, just a little bit better. I rode to the airport with passport and ticket but hugged beloveds goodbye and returned to the cabin to try to find my equilibrium.

With the help of a Rasta called Chubby and my personal assistant/housekeeper Patsy, i started on a regimen of fresh fruit, banana/coconut porridge, fish tea/soup and a powerful tea made from herbs including (colloquial names): Strongback, Guinea Hen, Sarsaparilla, Nuni, moringa, ram goat regular, irish moss and more. It was magic. I spent my days meditating and sharing stories in Chubby’s Rasta hut (African inspired stick hexagon with a hardwood fire going most all the time).

I knew re-entry could be tough in my fragile mental state so i steeled myself for the adjustments but, upon return was hit with a major dose of hassle between paperwork and medical appointments, and some potentially distressing health news about my Dad, I’m doing all i can to stay out of the blues.

Therapists, meditation, listening records and trying to make my life as simple as possible despite all these projects i dream and yearn to do (i have books to write yo!). I am trying to be social and trying to take care of me – and doing a kinda C+ job at either.

For reference and the record – and mostly for my own reminder –  what follows are four wee videos which track my mental and physical healing in Jamaica.

From getting up out of my bed trying to feel some inspiration, to regrouping in a hammock discussing herbs and soccer, to a rapid recap of progress in Chubby’s Rasta hut, and a message to future-self reminding me to remember how to live.

Here’s the first with the other three to follow right behind. I’ve shared and i’m tired and a little bit scared. Vi

## Videos >>

Healing Journey 3: Annotations from a Jamaican Hammock

Healing Journey 4: Feeling a Wee Bit Blue in Little Bay

Healing Journey 6: Message to Future Self from Jamaica