Category: Faith & Doubt


E-Day +2

Election Day, plus 2. My anger and frustration remained high at noon. At noon today, I mentally exclaimed, “Fuck it. I am done.”

For fourteen years, I have poured my heart and energy into becoming not just a better person, but a pillar in my community. I have participated in food drives, organized free health clinics, supported cancer groups, and assisted countless patients at local hospitals. I fought tirelessly for vaccines, masks, and essential healthcare. I advocated for mental health and Alzheimer’s care, for the right to a meal, the end of book bans, religious freedom, and support for the marginalized. I championed education and women’s rights.

Election Day, plus 2, I ask myself: For what?

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The assassination attempt of former President Trump in Butler, PA., several days ago was appalling. No one should use a weapon to eliminate candidates. Also, no one should use the justice department to arrest their political opponents to win a presidential election. Gun violence in America is way out of control. However, witnessing Senator Tim Scott debasing himself on national television, calling Trump’s survival a gift from God, was equally appalling.

House Speaker Mike Johnson also opined, “GOD protected President Trump yesterday.” The Evangelical minister Franklin Graham told Fox News that “God’s hand of protection” was on Trump. Trump claimed in a fundraising email that “it was God alone who prevented the unthinkable from happening.” (Not so for Corey Comperatore, who was shot in the head while protecting his family in the grandstands.)

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The vehicle for my mother’s lease was ending, so the big task for February 12th was to visit the Honda dealer. After several hours of weighing the pros and cons, she purchased her current Civic HR-V. The night had already swallowed the remaining daylight, and we decided to have dinner at the International House of Pancakes (IHOP). After receiving our meal, we sat in the corner booth, and she asked for details about Light Chain Deposition Disease (LCDD). It wasn’t the conversation I thought about having at an IHOP over scrambled eggs, but I provided high-level information about LCDD, testing, and symptoms. “Well, hopefully, they’ll eradicate it from you this year.”

“Mom, I am terminal. It’s unclear when, maybe in 6 months or maybe ten years, but unless some miracle pops on the horizon, LCDD will likely end my life. Doctors hope to keep my body at its current level of dysfunction.”

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Television is a vast pornographic wasteland of scam health products. I received free samples of Balance of Nature, green seaweed tablets from Asia, and other supposed natural health items. Forbes reviewed Balance of Nature, noting that it has received warnings from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) of unverified health claims. I also received an article (and subsequent invitation) to attend a consultation with a Missouri practitioner who provides stem cells. I declined the offer after noting that state investigators once determined the clinician’s cell-based regenerative medicine diagnosed and treated bogus illnesses and repeatedly ordered unnecessary and excessive lab tests. However, the truth is I want to die. 

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Telling My Mother

Just before Christmas of 2023, I told my mother that I had a life-threatening disease with no known cure. I provided all the sordid details: how I did quite a bit of internet searching. Yeah, sure, I self-diagnosed myself with everything from work-related fatigue to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, long-COVID, and finally, progressive supranuclear palsy. I researched close to twenty different diseases. But at the end of the day, the only thing that fits (at least for now) is Light Chain Deposition Disease (LCDD) or AL Amyloidosis. I took her through all the appointments, all the tests, and all my frustrations. I skipped the part about survival: from 1 month to 10 years. I mean, hell if I know.

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72 Days

November 13, 2023, seems like forever. [Between then and now] That’s 72 days. That’s two months and 11 days (seventy-two days) since my last post. The time variance seems like forever. Or, borrowing from David Whyte’s Heart Aroused, I turned my head for only a moment, and it appeared forever. I missed my Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve posts. It’s been a hectic 72 days. 

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Crazy

I spent several hours in the hospital yesterday. It wasn’t business; it was personal. Stomach and colon pain swallowed my life a little after noon. I could barely breathe, sit, lay down, or walk. Sweat rolled down my face and soaked my clothes. The strange part, I drove myself to the hospital. Afterward, I drove back home. I must be crazy.

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Like a Rock

Year three of this bullshit, and I am still alive. I was supposed to die a year back, but nope. I keep thinking of some lowly spiritual angel who dropped a wrench into the bicycle wheel of my life. And, “Bam.” The Unknown Buddhist is stuck on a plateau until the spokes get repaired. Thus, you meander through the days of repetitive medical cycles, poor humanistic skills of physicians, and just a lack of support.

This post is not about the Israeli-Gaza War. Neither is this about the Ukraine-Russia war. While both wars are significant, I focused on other crises. My life got sucked into a tangled in a trove of medical ups and downs, one damn appointment after another, and many that offered no value. At the end of several months, I’ve burned out my insurance HSA and wonder if this is what dying feels like. It’s the loneliness. The patient deals with it alone. And sometimes, the lack of humanity is spiritually painful.

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Whatever that was, it was not an Israeli missile,” I muttered while watching the Gaza hospital explosion news reports.
How do you know?” Mr. Jenkins asked.
Obliviously lost in thought, Mr. Jenkins tugged at my sleeve, “Oh, sorry,” I responded. “How can I help, Mr. Jenkins?
How do you know?
Know what?
Clearing his throat, he repeated, “How do you know the Israelis didn’t fire that missile?
Oh, sorry, sir. I know because the hospital is still standing.

I briefly explained that nearly all missiles Israel’s military uses are precision-guided or laser-guided. The missiles are programmed with coordinates confirmed by two other analysts before launch. If an Israeli rocket hit that hospital, the building would have collapsed. When Hamas fires a missile, they say, “Allah be with you,” and hope it lands somewhere close. When an Israeli rocket launches, the missile is programmed to hit “8004 West Nowhere Street.”

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As of ten minutes ago, the death toll from the ongoing violence between Israel and Hamas has passed 1,800, with over 1,000 killed and 2,700 injured in Israel and at least 830 people killed and 4,250 wounded in Gaza, according to Palestinian and Israeli health services. Worldwide, people witnessed one inhumanity after another. Festival celebrants were gunned down while escaping. Hostages taken. Terrorists removed one family’s daughter and executed her. An unconscious woman at the festival was displayed by armed militants in Gaza as onlookers shouted “Allahu Akbar.” 

Allahu Akbar (God is most great)? Really? If God is so great, where the fuck is He now? Would a god so excellent begat violence upon violence and hatred upon hatred? If God was so great, what was the tactical outcome? Or, as I would ask any terrorist before undertaking any mission (which I never have), “Then what?”

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