Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Goals for 2015



I gave up on resolutions many moons ago, instead I set goals. Here are the goals for 2015...besides controlling TN pain better.

1A. Edit stories-Ready for publishing.

1B. Finish unfinished stories.

2. Catalog characters and physical traits.

3. Track down missing short stories.

4. Get my grubby hands on a mini ipad. (Good luck)

5. Get one short story published.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

An Angelic Visit



I was praying for guidance on what to write next. I wanted to write a short story about Christmas, but wasn't sure how to write it. Last night I dreamed that I was telling others about an experience I had during the 2009 Christmas season. So I went with this story instead.

Christmas 2009 was the dreariest Christmas I’ve experienced since the Jimmy Carter era. Doom and gloom hung over the festive season; no one, it seemed, was in the Christmas spirit. There were only a handful of houses decorated with Christmas decorations and we were one of them.

Shame on me for not writing the date down, but it was near Christmas. The outside lights were aglow as my wife and I prepared for bed. I closed my eyes and gave her a goodnight hug as we stood in the living room.

Old Testament and New Testament writers didn’t have a robust vocabulary to describe what they saw. Today, even with ours, I have a hard time describing what I saw. I sensed something in the living room as we hugged. I opened my eyes and saw him.

The smiling angel was standing in the corner next to the front door. The top of his head touched the ceiling; he was easily seven foot tall. Transparent and Translucent aren’t descriptive enough to describe his appearance. I could see right through him, yet I could see the outline of his body. I didn’t see any wings, but I could see some intricate patterns on his robe. The best way I can describe his appearance is to think of Space Ghost when he was invisible.

I was in awe. I totally lost track of time as we continued to look at each other. I wondered why he was there, why did God send him? I finally returned his warm smile.

I read and heard stories similar to this experience; he was there for me to see him. I knew when I turned my gaze away he would leave. I quickly glanced at my wife’s hair and then looked up. He was gone.

That was five years ago and I still don’t have any answers to why he was there. I know when it’s time for me to meet the Almighty I will see him again; maybe he’ll be the one to escort me to see Him. Perhaps it was simply for me to jot down this little story and wish everyone a Merry Christmas?

So I’ll end it by wishing you a very Merry Christmas!

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Cold Front



Yesterday at 3:30 in the morning I awoke to arguably the worst headache I've had since my first ever Trigeminal attack in 1987. My head was throbbing, I took four Advil and rested my head on a rolled towel. The pain ever so slowly ebbed. I called in sick. I spent nearly 3/4 of the day in bed. I saw my chiropractor, but I skipped the therapy, that'll be today. The pain never fully went away until around 8PM.

Today I have joined the human race, the cold front has passed. However, if this is a sign of things to come for the winter...it's going to be a long one.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Research

I can't stress this enough to young writers. It's not the readers job to know what your write is true...it's your job. You have to research or you will look like an idiot, like this know it all kid, to say the least.



Who cares if you write that the Batmobile can travel at MACH 6? It’s make believe, windows and glass aren’t going to shatter when he races by at six times the speed of sound. Who cares if windows will explode, raining shattered glass down upon hundreds upon hundreds of innocent civilians? Trees, vehicles, or other stuff won’t get destroyed by the powerful shock waves. Oh, I won’t mention that the Bat tires would shred to subatomic particles, blow or melt at that speed. Research boys and girls...research.

Maybe next time I'll address all the grammatical errors. Sigh.

Sunday, November 30, 2014

NaNoWriMo Comes to an End



I finally entered NaNoWriMo, albeit two weeks late, but I still joined! It was all courtesy of a swift kick in the behind by a good friend. I knew I wasn’t going to win by writing a 50,000 word story, my goal was 25,000 and I succeeded! I had a grand total of 26,048 words, that’s 26,048 more words than I’ve written in all of 2014.

My muse has returned! The past few years it had hid on me, I couldn’t write in the morning like I used to and my writing suffered immensely. I have been able to write consistently in the past few weeks. I finished a story I started last Christmas, nearly finished a Halloween story I started in August 2013 and resuscitated many stagnant projects.

1126 Tomcat Way (E) rough draft is ready to be edited for Christmas 2014. I’ll add another story to it for future use. Tomcat Way is 14 pages and 5,670 words long.

Mighty Melinda Meets PK (R) flowed like water. It was the first story in years that I didn’t have to slave over. It, too, is ready for editing; its 23 pages and 10,352 words long.

Zombie Shark (PG/PG-13) was going to be my 2013 Halloween story before it hit the proverbial brick wall. Once I finished MMMPK I went back to it. I figured out how to fill in the missing pieces leading up to the climatic ending. Zombie Shark is currently 14 pages and 5,980 words long.

Ryan’s Mighty New Year (R) continues after the events of Ryan’s Mighty Christmas. Mighty Melinda and Ryan team up once again to solve an unearthly mystery. It is currently seven pages long and 3,312 words long.

I started Donut Bandito in 2007; it was nice, but not near ready for Prime Time. I renamed it NCIS: Miami, but kept the plot nearly the same. However, I still may jettison most of the story and only keep the first few pages and start afresh.

This past Saturday I went to the Vero Beach NaNoWriMo meeting. I learned a lot about writing, the publishing process, and writing programs. I did learn that I have enough short stories to put them all together for a novel or I could split them up and form a series. They were amazed how I’m taking my Trigeminal Neuralgia pain and using it for good with a few of my short stories.

The skies the limit, I look forward to the future or writing and spreading Trigeminal Neuralgia awareness.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

NaNoWriMo



I'm still around, I've been very busy writing. I've written 25,000+ words the past two weeks. I'm not going to win NaNoWriMo, I need 50,000+ by tomorrow. I started two weeks late, but I've written 25,000+ more words than I have all year. Plus my muse has returned! I'll be writing more Trigeminal Neuralgia stories as well incorporating TN into them.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Shakespeare Update



Shakespeare came out of his surgery alright. The cancer was successfully removed. The biopsy results came back last Wednesday, it was a low grade cancer with no signs of tendrils! He was so happy that he successfully removed the collar they gave him! We put it back on and he removed it again! He's such a cool cat.

There has been a bump in the road. Yesterday he started walking funny, at times he dragged his back legs. He can't climb the steps we got him so he could lie next to me when I have a nasty Trigeminal Neuralgia attack, but that's not stopping him. He's still in good spirits. He defiantly walks around the house at times.

He's having his stitches removed today. Hopefully we'll find out why his current condition started.

Saturday, November 8, 2014

42%



Congratulations to Oregon, Alaska, the District of Columbia, and Guam for passing their Marijuana initiatives. Slumbering Americans are awakening from the lies that have been spread for over the past 70 years.

However, Tuesday night was a disappointment in Florida. Amendment 2 needed 60% of the vote to pass, it only received 58%. The Vote No on 2 crowd erupted into ecstasy, claiming that this was going to turn the tide against marijuana legalization in the United States.

Something happened that night which turned their celebration into a Pyrrhic one. Amendment 2 received more votes than Governor Rick Scott. The same for Pam Bondi and Adam Putnam; the vote had crossed racial, religious, and party lines. Conservative talk show hosts picked up on this Wednesday morning, much to the chagrin of the No crowd. The vote was heard in Tallahassee, there’s little doubt across Florida that marijuana will be passed in 2016.

Keep the faith, 42 percent is bound to hurt. Plus Christians, I’m one, can’t conveniently keep forgetting things they’ve been taught, like love and compassion. Some of them will become outraged when they learn that their leaders didn’t tell them the movement was backed by a casino magnate and their spokesperson is a doctor that performs abortions.

In closing this was the last election I voted as a Republican. 2016 I will either vote Independent or Libertarian.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Stuart Air Show



I attended the Stuart airshow last Saturday, yes, I'm a glutton for Trigeminal Neuralgia punishment. I wasn't feeling so hot due to a cold front that had pushed through and another was pushing in. I can say that the F-22 Raptor can pierce your eardrum more than what a F/A-18 Hornet could ever do. I survived the airshow, but barely. My eyes were a little glassy as we left the show. I took two Excedrin Migraine pills; wasn't feeling so hot the next morning, but it was worth it.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Shakespeare



Shakespeare is a fourteen year old grey tabby. He’s my TN buddy. My wife and I adopted from the Indian River Human Society in August of 2005. We were walking amongst the cat condos when came across his. He had his back towards us as we read his name, me being the goofball that I am quoted the Bard himself, “To be or not to be.” Shakespeare turned around and meowed, that was that.

He has this uncanny ability to sense whenever I’m having an excruciating Trigeminal Neuralgia attack. No matter where I lie down to ride out the attack, he’ll find me. Shaky will ball up at my head or feet. He’ll stay there until he senses the pain’s ebbing or I get up. He is an amazing empathic kitty.

Now it’s time for us to return the favor. Shakespeare has a growth on his right side, it’s small and hard. He’ll undergo surgery on Wednesday. The vet will remove it along with surrounding skin. This type of cancer shoots off tendrils and she wants to get all of it.

Please remember him in your prayers. Thank you.

A righteous man regards the life of his animal. Proverbs 12:10

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Music



Something a little different today.

I was nominated on Facebook to list my top ten music albums. I don’t listen to music albums much anymore, but I do listen to movie scores/soundtracks as well as instrumental music when I write. I listen to lots of different music to get me into the mood of writing, so many favorites that I can’t list them all. I hope this will meet the challenge rules.

1. Star Trek III. Simply my favorite. Stealing the Enterprise, Return to Vulcan, and the Main title; I close my eyes and I’m in another world.

2. Transformers-2007. Scorponok easily sets the mood for a battle scene.

3. Star Trek-2009. Welcome back Star Trek! Love Enterprising Young Men.

4. Spider-Man-2002. My bread-n-butter option when I was writing in Galaxy Wars.

5. Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith. John Williams…‘Nuff said.

6. Ace Combat 04-this is not an album per se, it’s from a video game. I listen to various pieces on You Tube when I’m writing. Agnus Dei is the grand finale of the game and it’s epic. Northern Eye is another favorite from the game.

7. Vanessa Mae-Violin Player. Before Lindsey Stirling there was Vanessa Mae.

8. Iron Man. Repeatedly played this in 2008, Driving with the Top Down...

9. Lion, Witch, and the Wardrobe. Don’t listen to it much anymore, perhaps I should. Might give my creativity a swift kick in the fanny.

10. Independence Day. Listened to this during the twilight of my drawing days.

Honorable Mention: Mannheim Steamroller. Great for Christmas stories! Lastly the Piano Guys, can’t list them in the Top 10 since I’ve only been listening to them for a few months.

In closing I can safely say I nearly drive my wife insane when I listen to my music. I would like to thank her for not killing me.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

October 15, 1973



The more I wrote, the longer this became. I hate when that happens, so I just stopped.

I was five on this date, I’m not 100% sure of the date, but I’m positive it is correct. The night of October 15, 1973 changed my life. I can recall bits and pieces of it and place all the clues together; of course, my beloved Miami Dolphins would play a part in it.

The fateful night started off with dad, mom, my sister, and I gathered around the family TV. We watched two Hogan’s Heroes reruns on WCIX, it was the family tradition. 8 o’clock came and it was time for bed.

Sometime during the evening my parents awoke me and took me outside to see a UH-1 Iroquois helicopter hovering over our next door neighbor’s house. We would see the thundering Hueys all the time while we fished in the Everglades, this was the first time I actually saw one this close. I smiled as I watched it hovered. It flew away; mom and dad took me back in not knowing of the excitement that would be taking place.

Hours later I fell out of bed, hitting the hard terrazzo bedroom floor with my forehead, splitting it wide open. My parents rushed me to Hialeah hospital. I remember lying on a table with a cloth over my face. I could see light filtering through the cloth as the doctor talked to me. I didn’t feel a thing as he stitched up my wound and talked about the Dolphins. The night was bad, but the future ramifications of the fall would be excruciating.

I didn’t go to school the next day. I had a big bandage plastered over my forehead as I watched from the dining room as my mom waved the school bus away. I’m guessing around 10 o’clock that morning she stated that the Miami Herald paper didn’t show up; she wanted to read up on the Dolphin game. She called the Herald and they sent a paper to the house.

My Dolphins wore aqua and played in a stadium I didn’t recognize. Years later I did, it was the old Cleveland Stadium. I searched the date and the game was played on October 15, 1973. I already knew Miami won 17-9.

One year later I started to stutter in class. I wondered what was wrong with me. I couldn’t stop. I still stutter to this day, though not as bad. The stuttering hurt, but I would rather stammer the rest of my life and not have Trigeminal Neuralgia.

2009 I discovered my neck didn’t bow, 2011 I didn’t know how severe my injuries were until I saw a new chiropractor. Along with my neck not bowing, my jaw was severely out of alignment, which I already knew, TMD, temporomandibular joint dysfunction. However, I didn’t know my jaw stuck out 55 millimeters more than what it should. The fulcrum of this painful axis was my left TMJ; the inflammation conspired with all these to drive my trigeminal nerve insane.

The past 38 years became nearly crystal clear. I knew I never should’ve played football, the pain I felt when tackling was near blinding, but I thought it was normal. The headaches made sense as well as the agonizing pain behind my left eye and becoming dizzy while singing in church. Months later I was officially diagnosed with trigeminal neuralgia and things were finally crystal clear.

I am now on week seven of my first twelve weeks of intense therapy. I can feel a difference. The TN pain is not as strong, but it seems I’m getting more headaches. I can live with those in the short time, a TN/ATN attack is pure misery.

Don’t stop believing, hope floats eternal.

Monday, October 6, 2014

Monday, September 29, 2014

Little Room of Horrors



They were easy on me the first week, perhaps a little too easy. The worried staff wondered if they would overwork me and consequently trigger an excruciating trigeminal attack. The opening exercises were easy; it felt like it was going to be a total milk run during the first week of this so called intense neck rehabilitation.

My exercises were all completed and I waited to be put into traction, but first I had to enter a little room. It was innocently looking enough. A maroon and a burgundy table with big plushy beds sat parallel to each other. Don’t be deceived, I would soon find out that those are the torture beds. Patients like to call it the torture chamber. Me? I call it the Little Room of Horrors.

The doctor walked in sporting a half crazed smile. It reminded me of the Cheshire cat. “Ready B?!?!?” he excitedly asked still wearing that crazed smile. He clapped and rubbed his malevolent hands together before motioning to one of the beds of deep red.

He’s sadistic. He takes great joy in inflicting pain on his patients. He tells you to relax your neck, and cracks it. If it’s not loud enough he’ll do it again! While you’re lying on the bed in misery he’ll use it as a distraction to tell you to move your head. You’ll do it and he’ll crack the other side! “Oh, that was good!” he’ll exclaim as he again claps his most malevolent hands while you writhe in agony on the table.

Split seconds later he’s giving your neck a karate chop! He victoriously pumps his hands into the air as you slowly retreat into the fetal position. You’re too busy praying to notice him grabbing his crony arthrostim. The tool is nothing more than a miniaturized industrial jackhammer; all designed to maximize your pain experience. He’ll use it to pummel your poor back. Oh the perfidy!

He’ll stop and tell you to get up. I can confess that you’ll be too woozy to resist and succumb because you think it’s the end. It’s the end alright, the end of your sanity. His hand will cup your chin and he’ll pull you back into the demented tool of his. Fiery streaks of fire rip through your rib cavity as he continues to pummel your back and then neck.

You’re a mindless walking zombie now. You won’t remember shaking his hand, being banished to the rack, or anything else that transpired in the room. His assistant will lead you to the rack and put you into traction where you will mercifully enter a state of Zen. Total peace as your neck is being bowed in the direction that God designed it to.

Unfortunately I can’t reveal his name. I was tricked into silence when I signed the contract. I didn’t fully read the fine print, forgot to bring my electron microscope with me. However, I can tell you that he played football for a Florida high school with the initials of VB, went on to play for some college named UCF, and now wears polo shirts of those schools as he practices in a sleepy town on the eastern coast of Florida. If you see him…RUN!

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

I Hate a Rainy Night



With apologies to Eddie Rabbit.

Well, I hate a rainy night
I hate a rainy night
Loathe to hear the thunder
Watch the lightning
Cause it lights up my eye
You know it makes me feel bad

Well, I hate a rainy night
I’m such a pitiful sight
Cringe to feel cold rain on my face
Taste the pain on my lips
In the moonlight shadow


Showers washed all my joy away
I wake up to an achy day

'Cause I hate a rainy night
Yeah, I hate a rainy night
Well, I hate a rainy night
Well, I hate a rainy night
Ow! Ow!

I hate a rainy night
I hate a rainy night
Loathe to hear the thunder
Watch the lightning
Cause it lights up my eye
You know it makes me feel bad

Well, I hate a rainy night
I’m such a pitiful sight
Cringe to feel the cold rain on my face
Taste the pain on my lips
In the moonlight shadows


Puts a dagger in this heart of mine
Puts a frown on my face every time

'Cause I hate a rainy night
Yeah, I hate a rainy night
Ooh, I hate a rainy night
Yeah, I hate a rainy night Ow! Ow!

Showers washed all my joy away
I wake up to an achy day

'Cause I hate a rainy night
Yeah, I hate a rainy night
Well, I hate a rainy night
I hate a rainy night

Well, I hate a rainy night
You can see it in my eyes
Yeah, I hate a rainy night
Well, it makes me cry

Ooh, I hate a rainy night
You know I do, yeah, yeah
I hate a rainy night

I hate a rainy night
You can see it in my eyes
I hate a rainy night
Makes me cry
Well, I hate a rainy night
And hate TN too

Well, I hate a rainy night
Yeah, I hate a rainy night
Well, I hate a rainy night
I hate a rainy night

Monday, September 22, 2014

Bald Eagles



I'm a shutterbug, I'll fully admit to that. I'm pumped for the return of cooler weather! I know that's a dangerous thing to say with Trigeminal Neuralgia, I felt every cold front last year. 2013 was a brutal winter for me, but the birds are returning to Florida. I use birdwatching to take my mind off my stupid condition, it's fun and I can spend quality time with my wife.

We've spotted three bald eagles this past week. One soaring over Roseland, another on 58 Ave north of Vero, and one across the tracks at the Sebastian Wal-Mart. Haven't been able to take any decent snaps of one yet, but when I do, I'll post some here.

Photo taken at Black Point Drive in Titusville, Florida Nov 2013

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Bump in the Road



Monday I awoke at 1:10 AM with my head on fire. First thing that crossed my frazzled mind was that I was dehydrated. I drank a 20 oz bottle of water and returned to bed. Sometime later I realized that it wasn't working, my head was still on fire. I took two Migraine Excedrins and went back to bed again.

Few hours later I awoke again, still in pain, but not as bad. I ate my breakfast and took my morning supplements with Gatorade. I debated whether or not to go to work, I went because the pain was ebbing. I pushed water all day, keeping myself hydrated. The pain continued to flee.

Work was over and I went to therapy. The pain radiated into the left side of my face, the treacherous nerve was awakening. I ignored it as I started my neck exercises. I was halfway through them when the pain went from a miniscule one to five. I stopped what I was doing and tapped the wall. A tech asked if I was okay, I told her I was having a Trigeminal Neuralgia attack. My chiropractor immediately took me into the room and adjusted me.

I finished the exercises, but no traction. Needless to say I was bummed. I love traction, I'm at total relaxation, my neck bows the way God designed it to. Total bliss.

It's the first bump in the road, it won't be the last. But I'm hopeful that Wednesday will be a much better day.

Friday, September 12, 2014

2 Down, 10 to Go!



Today marks the end of my second week of intense rehabilitation on my neck. Ten more weeks before I start on my second twelve weeks, my visits will drop from three times a week to twice a week.

I continue to be cautiously optimistic. My Atypical Trigeminal Neuralgia pain is ebbing. I still get it, but the attacks are less severe. However, the pain is being replaced by low grade headaches. I’m hoping these low grade headaches are from the tropical system trying to form over the Bahamas. If not, I’d rather have them than the TN attacks.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Football is back!



It's frustrating watching football when you suffer from Trigeminal Neuralgia. The screaming, cheering, booing at refs, and the up and down flow of the game all conspire against you. It's Tuesday and I'm feeling the Patriot/Dolphin game despite my best efforts. Tomorrow I have therapy again so I'm praying that it will help zap this constant ache in my head. Gotta get better because the next Dolphin game is this Sunday!

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Therapy Update



I've completed my first week of therapy on my neck. I think they're going a little too easy on me. I'm not experiencing the pain they said I would be. Speaking of pain, hardly any trigeminal pain today. I'm optimistic, I know I still have 51 roller coaster weeks ahead of me, but I'm extremely optimistic.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Does Your Pastor Smoke Weed Too?



I am not here to throw stones or point fingers, but I think some readers need to consider prayerful introspection when the topic turns to medicinal marijuana, and research the facts with an open mind.

I am a Christian. I grew up in church as well as the church’s elementary and high school. I learned my ABCs along with my Bible verses, accepting Christ as my Savior during my senior year of high school. I was taught that drinking and dancing were bad, rock n’ roll was the Devil’s music, and marijuana was his weed. That was that. End of discussion.

During my adolescence, I vividly remember something that stuck with me to this day. I was watching TV one afternoon with my mom, and one of the local Miami stations aired a piece about that vile evil weed marijuana and how it was helping glaucoma patients. I questioned my mom and she said it was true; marijuana does help people with glaucoma.

Needless to say, I was greatly confused by this seeming contradiction. I pondered how cannabis was called the Devil’s weed when it was helping people keep their vision. An item cannot be good and evil at the same time; it has to be one or the other, or totally neutral. That news clip is something I’ve never forgotten; a chink in the armor had appeared.

Another piece fell off in 1990, my first year in Bible College. A guest speaker was visiting during chapel and I still haven’t forgotten what he said, for he stunned many. American Christians had some major flaws in their thinking…drinking alcohol wasn’t a sin! He went on to tell how great leaders in the faith drank alcohol. One leader went as far as telling a nun he loved her because she made the best beer in Germany! However, he reminded us that the sin is being drunk, not drinking the alcohol.

Later I learned that young American missionaries assigned to Europe are sent to specific places so as not to observe mature European Christians drinking wine or beer. The culture shock was too much, and many returned to the U.S. and/or became extremely self-righteous when they witnessed other Christians drinking.

In the early 90s, I was in the beginning stages of my Atypical Trigeminal Neuralgia; episodes were sporadic. I thought the pain I experienced was simple headaches. The pain continued to strike, increasing in intensity before exploding in April 2007 to full Type 2 TN.

I have been prescribed three successive pain pills, all of which did hardly anything to relieve the agonizing pain. I began taking the first one in July of 2007; I don’t remember the name but I remember the side effects. I walked around in a daze. I felt something run from the back of my eye towards the back of my skull, which would be the trigeminal nerve for those of you reading in Port St. Lucie. I couldn’t stop yawning at times. I wore long-sleeved shirts to protect against sunburn. This was in the brutal July heat in Florida and I’m a redhead. A few days later, I couldn’t go to the bathroom and I was off pill number one.

Five years later, the doctor who officially diagnosed me with TN put me on Carbamazepine. No matter the dosage, I would still be in pain. I broke out in a rash several weeks later and I was off Carbamazepine.

I couldn’t immediately stop taking it, however, I had to decrease the dosage as I started a regiment of increasing doses of my new drug, Gabapentin. Nothing out of the ordinary happened until I finally took a full dose. The next two nights I dreamt of nothing but murders, stabbings, and being followed. But it would get worse. As with Carbamazepine, I couldn’t stop immediately. I had hellish side effects while weaning myself off Gabapentin, including an excruciating ache in my left cheek. I cried out to God. If I were going to be in this much pain for the rest of my life, I begged Him to go ahead and take me now.

Weeks later, I was reading several online articles, and ran across one about a father giving his little child, who was suffering from over 200 seizures a day, cannabis oil. The seizures reduced to two to three a day. I read how it was helping military personnel returning from Iraq and Afghanistan cope with PTSD. I also read that some of our Founding Fathers were hemp farmers. Apparent benefits aside, I still wasn’t ready to “take the plunge” when I was asked if I wanted to try medical marijuana for my TN pain.

Two months later, after more weeks of painful headaches and sleepless nights, I was asked again about medical marijuana. I accepted at the speed of light. I was given four cookies, one brownie and one chocolate donut. I ate half a cookie a day for eight days and it was wonderful. My eyes became heavy, and any trigeminal flare-up was killed immediately. I slept peacefully for the first time in months, and awoke pain free.

The donut just let me sleep; it was a dud.

The brownie was two doses, so I halved it again, totaling four doses. The effect of this, too, was to make my eyes heavy and enable me to sleep restfully. A mutinous flare-up was quickly dispatched and I slept without pain. I did awaken to pain, but I’ve concluded that was due to an extremely rare Florida cold front stalled over the central part of the state. I was sold.

Despite the propaganda one hears about how cannabis is addictive, and a gateway drug, I can confidently say that these claims are groundless. Cannabis is no more a drug that alcohol (and many of us have experienced the tragic effects of drinking and driving). Once I stopped ingesting cannabis I had no urge to want more, or to take a harder drug. Nor did I have the urge to “freak out” and go wild.

Christians can be willfully ignorant – and I have run across a lot of them lately. I have shared the facts of my experiences and I have been met with many opinions. The negative ones always seem to regurgitate the latest propaganda or talking points, but hardly ever give any facts, a scare tactic that would make the 1930s proud.

I was called a hippie, a pothead, a stoner…with no consideration for the plain facts. Apparently, I don’t know what I’m talking about. Pain pills don’t kill – and, if they do, it’s because we didn’t read the directions properly. Cannabis has no medicinal value. People have stooped so low as to produce a social media ad stating that the cookies I ate are the new date rape drug. I have been insulted more than a politician at a political rally.

One woman called cannabis a vile evil weed. If that’s so, then why did God call it good in Genesis 1:12? And Genesis 1:29? A young man asked me a snarky question, “Does your pastor smoke weed, too?” I informed him that I don’t smoke weed, I ingest it. He reiterated that cannabis has no medicinal value and that, if I researched it, I would find the truth. He sarcastically added that I hadn’t died from taking pain pills. Correct, I haven’t died but let’s ponder some statistics I recently came across during my own research:

• 106,000 Americans die every year from their pain pills. That is the equivalent of four 747s crashing every week. How long would it take for the FAA to ground those jets?

• The US makes up 5% of the world’s population, yet we take 50% of the world’s prescription pain pills.

• Add the OxyContin family into the mix and the US consumes 90% of the world’s pain pills. Unbelievable!

• States that have legalized medicinal marijuana have reported that accidental pain pill overdoses have dropped 25% year over year.

Sadly, there is no compassion for patients suffering from chronic pain. As someone who lives with agonizing pain on a daily basis, I ask my fellow Christians, where is your compassion? Where is the compassion Christ always showed to those suffering in pain? I would hope that we would all rejoice to find an antidote that alleviates the excruciating pain that accompanies many chronic illnesses. Instead, there are those who would add to the patient’s already difficult time by vilifying – and wanting to take away – the one natural remedy that works, all because minds are closed and “facts” are misconstrued.

“And the earth brought forth vegetation, plants yielding seed after their kind, and trees bearing fruit, with seed in them, after their kind; and God saw that it was good.” Gen. 1:12

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Kim's Crew



A lighter entry for today.

Kim's Crew was my first true comic strip, it was based on my experiences with Gold's Gym in Miami Lakes. My precursor to Atypical Trigeminal Neuralgia had appeared and my doctor thought my upper back muscles had atrophied instead of being my train wreck of a neck. Thus I joined the gym and met up with a well known 1990s fitness model/competitor.

Thanks to Kimmy, I was in better shape than I was in the US Army. I plan on posting a few strips here and there to help lighten the mood. I also plan on expanding the strips and turning them into a series of short stories. Maybe one day I'll get back doodling a few more of them.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Hope Floats



My neck is a train wreck of Biblical proportions. It doesn’t bow, my jaw sticks out 55 millimeters than what it should. My jaw is also misaligned, TMD. The fulcrum of excruciating pain is located at the TMJ. The sterile inflammation and misalignment all conspire to wreak havoc on my left trigeminal nerve, which gives me my Atypical Trigeminal Neuralgia.

I saw my chiropractor Monday night; he stated that my neck can be fixed. It will take a year of intense rehab and lots of $$$, but my neck will bow again, relieving the stress and pressure on my trigeminal nerve.

Needless to say I eagerly look forward to having my neck bow properly. No more chronic excruciating pain, let downs, taking excessive sick days, or restless nights. I can attend church regularly, return to singing, and not miss important functions anymore. God is good!

Lastly, maybe I can finally attend a Dolphin, Marlin, or Heat game on one of my trips down to my Miami.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Staggering Statistics



Here are some sobering numbers I heard last night, we need to stop the insanity that is Big Pharmacy! This is just another reason why I'm voting for Amendment 2 in November.

106,000 Americans die every year from prescription pain pills.

The US has 5% of the world's population, yet take 50% of the pain pills.

When you include the pills from the oxy family then the percentage jumps up to 90%!

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Caramel Color Update



It has been nearly three weeks since I gave up drinking sodas with caramel color. I am happy to report that the intensity of my pain went down. It's highly manageable. I can tolerate the pain longer before taking OTC pills. I'm no longer awakening to pain, pain does return, but not until near midday. I'm cautiously optimistic because I know how my mutinous trigeminal nerve can adapt.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

New Migraine Trigger



I went from the heights of Mt. McKinley on Sunday to the depths of Death Valley in a mere 15 hours early this week. I attended my first church service in a month. I felt wonderful, the new diet is working. Sunday night I thought I would be good and continue it. I ordered a grilled chicken combo sans French Fries. I had a broccoli cheese baked potato instead and no soda with caramel color in it. I thought I was really doing good until 3AM Monday morning.

I awoke to the worst pain I had felt in nearly three years. My temples and forehead were on fire. I took two Excedrin Migraine pills. I rolled up a towel, rested my neck on it and went back to bed. It didn't work that well, pain never went away. It stayed home in my right temple and never went away despite my best efforts.

I took a walk in the park, that didn't work. I thought a hot shower would work, wrong. I ate tart cherries, nothing. The migraine stayed for a day. So, I'm adding that baked potato to my No No List, right next to Swiss cheese. Never again.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Amendment 2



Amendment 2 will allow medicinal marijuana to be legal in Florida. It's so popular with Floridians, over 80% approval rating, that the opposition is spewing propaganda (the photoshop photo) in an attempt to frighten people as if it were 1937.

I can say that medicinal marijuana let me sleep. It killed the intense stabbing pain behind my left eye or in my left ear. I didn't have the murderous dreams that I had while taking Gabapentin, Lunestra is just as bad or worse from what I've read.

It all leads me to ask why take these 'legal' drugs with all the adverse side effects when God created cannabis for us to use?

Friday, August 1, 2014

Caramel Color



Caramel color is the ingredient that gives Coke, Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, Root beer, and other type sodas their color. It's also a major source of inflammation in the body. I'm trying a little experiment, I've weaned myself off Coca-Cola. I will give a future update on what effect it has on my pain.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Sleep



Sleep is one of our best weapons against the Trigeminal beast, but we know it’s easier said than done. It’s very hard to fall asleep when a jackhammer is hammering away on your poor temple or some mad scientist has you strapped down to a gurney while repeatedly shocking your eye in a failed experiment. My case is intense stabbing pains in the left eye, ear, or excruciating aches in my cheek.

A few years ago I made a decision to go to bed at almost the same time every night. My research told me it would help me manage the pain better. It worked. Oh, I’m still in pain, but the severity of it has greatly decreased. On those nights I don’t get a goodnight, well, it ain’t pretty.

Constantly battling pain drags us down, draining our energy reserves. Sleep helps replenish it, when we don’t sleep the pain increases and the vicious cycle continues. Here are some tips to try and help sleep well.

1. Sleep in a cool room

2. Roll up a towel and rest your neck on it…still can’t believe how well this works

3. Go to bed at the same time every night

4. Playing soft music helps some people who have trouble falling asleep

5. Stay away from caffeine in the PM

Monday, July 21, 2014

Gabapentin



Gabapentin was the last drug I took to battle my trigeminal neuralgia pain. The other two were complete duds that did little to stop the agonizing pain. As the proverbial cliché states, “Third time’s the charm!”

Once again I started ballooning like the BF Goodrich blimp. I gained ten pounds in a week, like before I did not change my diet, the weight gain just happened. The dreaded gain was the least of my worries, I had dreams that I would like to forget.

I think it was the fourth day, the first day of taking the full dosage of Gabapentin that the world of Donald Bellisario, Rod Serling, and Ray Bradbury invaded my sleeping mind. I dreamt a series of interconnecting dreams, one would end and it would continue in the next dream until I awoke. I can only think of one other time when this has happened.

The dreamt I was my dashing heroic fighter pilot, instead of blasting the evil from the friendly skies, he was investigating a murder that coincided with a missing shipment of missiles. The whole set of connecting dreams was dull until the end. Ryan was walking down a desolate beach trying to clear his mind. He heard something to his left and looked over a row of saw palmetto. He could see the missing missiles sitting in the back of a van, then a body bag being disposed of.

Wolf pulled out his 9MM and checked it, one round in the magazine. He grimaced and pulled out magazine, one round. He pulled out another…again only one round. It seemed like time was in a bottle during this particular scene as he searched for the missing rounds. The dream went blank but I do remember him firing a round.

I was behind a two way mirror, watching my wingman, Lieutenant Kara Pike and NCIS Agent Gibbs grilling a man. He caved and confessed, “I killed Lieutenant Commander Ryan Wolf.” I was too shocked at the startling revelation to do anything. I stood there stoically, watching as he sang.

Seconds later I had enough and walked away as I muttered something about it being time for a Cold Case type ending. Pike did a double take, she saw me walking out. My former wingman quickly excused herself and vainly rushed outside, for I was long gone unlike the ending of the TV show.

As of writing this, I will not discuss this dream any further detail. I won’t investigate or attempt to delve deeper into it. Nor will I attempt to search for any meaning other than it was a figment of a stupid pill I was taking. The next night I again found myself as my hotshot character. He was sent back in time to stop a murder from taking place…Do you see a pattern forming?

This dream was different than the previous one. It was interconnecting but cloudy. I didn’t see things completely, almost like looking through murky water. The ‘veil’ lifted towards then end. Ryan was struggling with the- would-be murderer. Wolf was stabbed in the left arm, but managed to save the day when the culprit turned himself in.

Ryan’s arm was in a sling as he stood outside the police station. His fiery wife Brooke took his hand and a mysterious truck pulled up a second later. “Come on,” he calmly stated and led her away. Another truck pulled up, they quickly picked up the pace of their walking. The couple ducked down alleyway, finding another truck pulling into it. They retreated back, finding a curving walkway between two stone buildings. I was looking down with the sense of that we would find something waiting for us at the next intersection, then my alarm clock blared.

“No more,” I muttered as I got up to do my early morning routines. I called my pharmacist and he told me to wean myself off like I started the pills. I did just that, but did it ever knock me on my furry fanny! Aches and pains in the back were about as bad my TN pain. However, the TN pain was the worst I ever felt. I took four Aleves to kill the excruciating ache in my left cheek. The hellish thoughts of ‘Why won’t God take me,’ made the pain all the worse. Thankfully He allowed the naproxen to work and things settled down.

I took three prescriptions, none of them successfully neutralized my atypical trigeminal pain, but they conspired to wreak havoc on my body. No more, I will battle the unspeakable pain through diet, supplements, and other means when it becomes legally available.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Going Down



I promise if and when this gets published I will edit to where the girl gets kissed. I still can't believe this thing took nearly four years to finish. Now for those of you who have Trigeminal Neuralgia, brace yourself for a potentially painful ride. I wanted to explain what we feel, the intensity, the sheer desperation to get a few hours of being pain free.

http://www.tnnme.com/author-brian-whitaker-going-down-short-story.html

Friday, July 18, 2014

Headache Journal



If you suffer from headaches and don't have a journal, do yourself a favor and buy a spiral notebook. There's all kinds of back-to-school sales going on right now, especially Wal-Mart, you can pick up one for under a dollar. It will help you keep track of your pain as well as recognizing your triggers.

A friend told me to make one before my neurologist told me to. I started keeping track of the headaches, including my undiagnosed Atypical Trigeminal Neuralgia, and the weekly migraines. I soon discovered that Swiss cheese and cold cuts were behind my fiery migraines in late 2010 and early 2011. One can also use it to track Trigeminal pain as well.

Tho I do recommend you writing nearly every detail when the pain strikes, the location, intensity, and whether its shocking, stabbing, or ache. It will help you identify different triggers whether they be food, weather, or other variables.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Saturday, July 12, 2014

A Crabby PSA



The day was Thursday, the day I clean Admiral Doolittle’s pool. The Old Man, as we affectionately call him at Gotham NAS, is also my bodacious wife’s grandfather. I dreaded the entire ride over to his house. I felt another excruciating Trigeminal Neuralgia attack bubbling underneath my left cheek as I thought of him asking me once again when Brooke and I were going to give him his first great granddaughter. I feel like telling him, “You can’t rush greatness.”

Apprehensively I opened the pool gate. I braced myself for the cantankerous cigar chomping man to verbally assault my tender left ear with his nonstop asking about his future great granddaughter. I could literally feel the TN attack tapping underneath my left cheek as I silently began checking the pool’s vital chemical supply.

I nervously peered around the corner to see if he was sitting at a table reading the front page of the Gotham Guardian, the number one rag in town. I breathed a sigh of relief seeing an empty table and continued to stealthily perform my duty. I bravely tipped toed to the edge of the silent pool.

One timid look over my shoulder and I went to work. I collected the water sample, pulled out the phenol red, and dropped five red drops into the sample. I vigorously shook it and smiled, the water sample was perfect. Then I saw an eight legged crustacean in the water. “Foxtrot,” I muttered, for if the old man saw it, he would be more crotchety than ever.

I fished the small blue crab and set it down on a concrete tile. The tiny crab made no attempt to scurry away as it stood next to my large shoe. I gently tapped it with my shoe, it slightly moved to the right, stopped, and sat down. “Whatcha got there?!?!?”

I nearly jumped out of my epidermis. I placed a quivering hand on my heaving chest as I turned around to face the voice that addressed me. “CAG! What are you doing here?” I breathlessly gasped as I felt the inevitable TN attack simmering under my left cheek.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Commander Quinn stated.

“I fished out a little crab,” I answered lightly kicking the sea creature in question. The tiny thing momentarily stood up and sat back down. “I think the pool’s acid and chlorine have the poor thing is on his way to Davy Jones’ Locker.”

“Hot diggity dog lieutenant! You did it again!” an excited Quinn exclaimed and slapped my shoulder.

“I what?” I replied full of incredulous joy.

“Just like you privatized international relations with Australia and Russia, now you’ve given life to Gotham NAS’ new drug Public Service Announcement,” the old A-4 Skyhawk pilot grinned.

“New PSA?” I was too busy trying to ignore the oozing pain in my left cheek to fathom an answer.

“Yes, my boy, taking bad acid will leave you a little crabby…”

I really hope Commander Quinn doesn’t quit his day job.

Friday, July 4, 2014

Safety Second



The following is a short story was entered into a writing contest. It didn't win, but it got positive reviews. Here's my short story for July 4, 2013.

I used to love the Fourth of July. Hotdogs, hamburgers, apple pies, baseball and everything all American that would make Uncle Sam’s chest swell with pride. But July 4th aint fun when one has been diagnosed with trigeminal neuralgia. One single innocent concussion firework detonating can trigger an excruciating three day attack, even if one has earplugs in their tender ears. One of my favorite holidays turned into a night of cowering in the corner.

My bodacious wife, Brooke, maybe a rough snooty Brit at times, but she was assimilating into American culture quite well. She had her Aunt Sam patriotic top hat on. My fiery redhead added streaks of white and blue to accent her natural silky red locks. Lady Blue, my only ex that my wife will talk to, was also in the Fourth mood as she prepared her pub for the holiday. She wore a camouflaged wide brim hat. She wore a grey t-shirt that had USA across her chest. She hummed a butchered version of the Star Spangled Banner as she readied some firework mortars.

I cringed as I saw Brooke assisting Lady Blue as she set up the evening fireworks outside Lady Blue’s Tavern. The voluptuous blue haired ninja loved explosions, the bigger the better; part of her ADHD. Never ever say, “Explosion,” near her. She’s known for tilting her blue head while sporting a blank demented look on her face. Her crazy violet eyes grew to spaghetti plate size as she asked, “Nukes?” Bluey’s track record of getting into festive holiday trouble was a great as USAF Major Nelson with Jeannie around.

I nervously walked up. I watched them for a few moments, noticing that several safety protocols were being ignored on purpose. Bluey manically laughed as she put the explosions in their tubes. I cleared my throat and addressed them, “Blue-chan, why don’t you two let others do that this year?”

The ninja huffed, “I forgot how much of a party pooper you can be at times Ryan-kun.” My wife chimed in, defending her, bruising my ego, “Luv, relax. Don’t get your knickers in a wad. It’s not like we’re arming your classified fighter. It’s a little fireworks display. Have a little faith in the Company? (CIA)

Blue enthusiastically shook her head, “Yes! Yes! Now shoo Ryan-kun. Brooke and I have important work to do!”

I had unnerving visions of another multimillion dollar F/A-18 Super Hornet exploding over the pumpkin patch like it did five Halloweens ago. I nervously laughed and chugged a cola that made Atlanta famous. I turned around and marched away with fake bravado as I sang, “Glory Glory Hallelu-jah!”

I was at a safe distance so I stopped, put my feet together, and performed a flawless about face. I pulled an over the counter migraine pill bottle out of my pocket and down two of them with my soda. Ear plugs were safely secured in my ear and I was ready for the inevitable explosive miscue that was dancing in the summer wind.

Something disastrous was about to happen and I was told to mind my Ps and Qs. So I did. Loyal patrons slowly gathered outside for the grand festivities to begin as the hot sun slowly began to set in the horizon. Thankfully my sizzling wife ran to my side. However, I still had that look of impending doom.

“Ryan, it’s going to be aright luv,” she smiled wrapping a soft arm around me.

“I got a bad feeling,” I replied as the boisterous crowd began the countdown.

“6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…,” they shouted. I stepped in front of my wife, being the chivalric husband that I am.

The customers cheered as the curvy ninja threw the switch, a millisecond later the tavern detonated, exploding into a bazillion pieces; knocking the red, white, and blue partiers flat on their bums as my wife would later say. A fiery patriotic mushroom cloud shot into the air, taking Blue-chan’s new insurance rates with it.

It started to rain, but the rain tasted like a mixture of adult beverages. My stunned wife rested her chin on my shoulder as the rain continued to fall. She looked at the smoldering black crater that used to be the tavern, “Luv…how? How did you know?”

“With Bluey it’s safety second, third, fourth, or last.”

© Copyright 2013 LtRyanWolf (UN: ryanwolf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Behind These Hazel Eyes



My Trigeminal Neuralgia went full blown Type 2 in April of 2007. I would awake pain free but would be hit hard with stabbing pains in the left eye. I saw my eye doctor, my eyes were fine. She theorized that my 5th nerve was inflamed, Trigeminal Neuralgia. She was the only doctor I saw for the next five years that had it right and I saw ear/nose/throat specialist, chiropractor, and a neurologist to name a few.

Late 2010 or early 2011 I went in for a yearly check up with my eye doctor. My right eye passed the field vision test, but my left eye, my TN side, didn’t. I went back every now and then to take retake the test free of charge. The left eye kept bombing as if it were a B-2 Stealth Bomber carpet bombing Baghdad during ‘Shock and Awe’. Every result was different; my doctor couldn’t determine what the cause was due to the varying results.

I started noticing I was seeing halos at night. I knew that it was something I shouldn’t ignore, glaucoma ran in the family. Mercifully my left eye decided to be kind and passed the silly field vision test. I was sent to see an eye specialist.

Pressure was fine, but the size of my optical nerves indicated that I might have glaucoma. I told him about what was happening with my pain, straight neck, and my TMD. Five months later I was finally diagnosed with Trigeminal Neuralgia. Yes, I am a mess.

2013 I returned for my annual exam for the eye specialist. Pressure was fine and the optical nerves were still the same. I informed him that I had been diagnosed with Trigeminal Neuralgia. He stated that might be why my nerves were the size that they are, but I still needed to come back due to my family history. Not a problem.

May 2014 I returned with my bodacious wife. Pressure was fine and my optical nerves were still the same size. I asked him if my TN had anything to do with the size of my nerves. He flatly stated that they were unrelated. Huh?

As I write this I’m still confused, I’m confused even more when I read about other TN suffers having vision issues. It makes me wonder how many of us do have vision issues.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Sports



I have been to numerous sporting events during my brief stay on God's Earth. However, now it is out of the question. My trigeminal nerve could not take the strobing pulsating lights or the loud raucous music played at today's collegiate and professional games. I probably wouldn't last a few laps at a NASCAR race.

The World Cup...I probably wouldn't get inside the stadium without a major flareup. If I would somehow manage to get inside the stadium, the raucous fans, drumming, and the Samba mixing together into a titanic beehive buzz would drive me insane with pain.

Even watching on TV can be tricky. Last year, my Dolphins scored a late touchdown and beat the Falcons, I was pumped. I yelled, jumped, and clapped my hands. It felt like I was sitting in the Orange Bowl and watched Dan Marino leading the Dolphins to victory. My bodacious wife told me I better settle down, I didn't listen. The next few days were pure heck. I only watch bits and pieces now as not to overstimulate my trigeminal nerve.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Super Duper Bass Buster Plug



In honor of my dad on Father's Day

Many moons ago, long before the days of Outdoor World at Griffin Road and I-95 my dad received a shipment of super duper guarantee bass buster plugs in the mail from Bass Pro Shops. A few days later dad took us to go fishing out in the Everglades. We stopped at one of our usual spots, a canal that ran parallel to US 27 north of Alligator Alley in West Broward County. Dad secured one of those guarantee bass busters onto my line and I proudly went fishing.

Sometime later I was reeling in the super duper guarantee bass buster plug when a speeding boat rounded the corner. I furiously, yet futilely, reeled in the super duper guarantee bass buster plug. I felt the line and my pole vibrate as the boat’s spinning propellers cut the line.

The boat sped away as the plug aimlessly bobbed up and down in the wakes of the alligator infested canal. Needless to say dad was angry, not at me, but at the fact that this brand new super duper guarantee bass buster plug was slowly drifting to the other side of the canal.

The bass buster plug continued to float across that alligator infested canal as dad and I tried to snag it with another super duper guarantee bass buster plugs that he ordered. We missed and the plug disappeared as another boat sped by. He started ranting and raving and carried on about this being a brand new super duper guarantee bass buster plug that he paid good money. He would calm down only to start up again a few minutes later. Dad continued to have his insane rants followed by a few moments of sanity before starting up again. His face grew redder with every rant; thick toxic black smoke billowed out of his ears as he wildly threw his hands up in the air.

Inadvertently, I made things worse. My young keen eyes spotted that super duper guarantee bass buster plug and I pointed out to dad where it was. The thick toxic black smoke became thicker as he gazed upon that dry docked super duper guarantee bass buster plug; he started to rant and rave again until he had what can only described as a Wolf moment.

He ripped off his shoes, threw off his socks, and stormed into the canal even though the bank was full of small jagged rocks. Uh, did I mention that this canal was alligator infested? I did…good. Anyhoo, dad swam like Kermit the Frog as we watched in utter disbelief. The coots started laughing at him. Ospreys stopped what they were doing and tilted their curious heads. They tilted their feathery heads again before they flapped their wings and cackled as if to say, “Gator bait! Gator bait!”

Meanwhile, I had a flashback of reading an old Miami Herald clipping about my dad, his sisters and brother getting a new puppy after the last one had met an untimely demise at the jaws of another alligator. I prayed that I wouldn’t be seeing anything like that.

He reached the other shore and now had another problem. He couldn’t put the super duper guarantee bass buster plug in his hands or place it in his pockets. The barbs would dig into his skin, so dad put it between his teeth and swam back.

He safely returned to our side, thank God. Water poured off of him as he proudly marched back upon dry land. He triumphantly hoisted into the warm South Florida air that super duper guarantee bass buster plug that to this day has yet to catch a single bass.

© Copyright 2013 LtRyanWolf (UN: ryanwolf at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Blue Angels



As I said in my May 30, 2014 entry was this was the first time seeing the Blue Angels since the Opa-Locka airshows of the late 80/early 90s. I took a Trigeminal Neuralgia gamble by buying tickets, I knew I was tempting fate, but I didn't care. I survived Shockwave, now it was time to see how my mutinous nerve would react to the Blues.

The Angels didn't disappoint. This was the best airshow I've seen in a long long time. Angel #5 and Angel #6 were approaching fast as the distracted crowed oohed and ahhed over Angels 1-4 performing pin point maneuvering at 600MPH. I brought my camera on the screaming blue duo. I snapped a photo, see above, and saw a cone beginning to form on the front of Five's wing. "UH OH," I thought. Five and Six were coming in near supersonic speed. They eased off and the cone disappeared.

I could feel the shriek of the engines knifing into my ear. The Angels set off several car alarms as they thundered away. I held my aching ear, but I was smiling wildly; the pain was ebbing as I watched the F-18s streak away. I felt fantastic! Tho I did have to take two Excedrin Migraines a few hours later.

It was worth it.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Happy Birthday Ryan! Part 1



I have been working on this for over a year, didn't finish it like I wanted. Ryan's writer either misplaced his notes for the story or never wrote it down. I couldn't figure out where I wanted to take it. Sooooooo enjoy part 1, maybe I'll have part 2 ready by 2015 or Ryan's birthday, November 26.

I used to hate my birthday, well, not exactly; I did love the delicious cake, scrumptious ice cream and ice cold Coca-Cola as well as the presents. However, my birthday always coincided with the beginning of the dreaded Atlantic basin hurricane season. June 1 would always bring out the worse in the Miami media, they would sensationalize the season by stating that if I didn’t watch their show that night that I might die. This is why I hated my birthday.

It was nonstop of that dreaded infamous nine letter “H” word. The Miami Herald would fire the first salvo of the season with a big announcement heralding the beginning of the season on the front page. There was no escaping it, the weatherman would join in on the early AM shows. It would continue on the radio, it was a continual blitzkrieg of narcissist drivel.

There was no escape from the hurricane hysteria, not even in the sports page. The Miami Herald had a ditzy dizzy blonde reporter write an article about how the Miami Hurricanes needed to change their name. She asked, “"How can we ever give a heartfelt cheer for the Hurricanes again?" Would someone please tell her hurricanes have been kissing Fort Dallas/Miami before 1896!

1993 was the year things escalated, one year removed from the buzz saw that was Hurricane Andrew. Bryan Norcross, the hero of Hurricane Andrew, would come on TV reminding you that he was the hero of the Hurricane Andrew. You flipped the channel to that sensational station that featured Rick Sanchez and Sally Fitz, Rick would look at the screen with his smug puss trying to be ultra-cool as he spoke, “You know, you’re going to die if you don’t watch our hurricane special tonight.” At times I thought this over hyped duo was about to climb atop their desk and scream, “The hurricane is coming! The hurricane is coming! Run for the hills, the hurricane is coming!” Don Noe knows nothing rounded up the nauseating migraine.

I’m digressing away from my birthday so I’ll end this part. Bryan Norcross graduated to the Weather Channel where you can see him periodically talking about Hurricane Andrew. Sally Fitz resigned to be with her husband. Rick Sanchez was picked up, dropped by MSNBC and CNN. The ditzy dizzy blond still writes for the Miami Herald. As for Don Noe? I don’t know.