Less than two weeks to November 5th, election day, and polls are nearly dead even. If you’re undecided, flip a coin, toss cards into a hat with the winner taking two of three, or use a crystal ball and gaze for affirmation. You could receive counsel from Lee Greenwood (the Trumpian Bible made in China) or listen to Emime. One could read tea leaves, listen to the wind, or study astrological skies. We could roll dice, cast lots, pray, analyze ancient scripture, or beg karma for wisdom. However, God left it to us, and why it’s this close is beyond me.
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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.)
When I signed off in April, I did not check my email. Upon logging in this afternoon, I read several emails from readers requesting an update. So, I will start by stating that I feel a little like Josie Rubio (A Pain in The Neck cancer blog), who said to some effect that she was beginning to feel good and thinking of returning to work. Of course, Ms. Rubio never returned.
Dear Readers:
As I write this, I find myself at a crossroads—a moment where the path I’ve been on for the past 12 years diverges in a different direction. It’s with a mix of emotions—reflection, gratitude, and a touch of sadness—that I share with you today that it’s time to say goodbye to UnknownBuddhist.com.
When cancer weaves its way into one’s life, the impacts can be significant. After working in the health car business for 23 years, I was neglectful of my health. I change my perspective after a cranky heart let me know, in no uncertain terms, that I am a piss-poor model for proactive healthcare advocate. I scheduled a quick trip to Tucson, AZ, to assist my mother with some financial matters. The journey from Ohare International to Tucson Internal began with hastily packing on Friday. I went to the American Airlines terminal at Ohare, would spend several hours flying, and get dumped off in Tucson. My mother would pick me; I’d deal with some financial matters, complete her 2023 taxes, laugh and joke for a few days, and return to Chicago.
Everything was on track until I went to use Ohare’s Admirals Club. There was no issue with getting in. “Club Card, Mr. UB?” I swiped, and I heard the ‘beep’. In I went. Did I notice the shoulder blade pain from left to right, then right to left while walking the terminal? Sure. It’s the same pain I experienced hundreds of times. ‘Attributed to osteoarthritis’ or ‘no problems now,’ my doctors would always claim. I decided to enter the bathroom. The stall was spacious and clean. The left side chest pain was immediate and sudden. Usually, when such pain occurs, the pain lasts five seconds at most. It didn’t.
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.
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.
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.