status of buddy don: still a'livin

i aint writ a thang in the longest, witch thats whut happens whenever ye git to be a sick as i bin. but i notissed tuther day that the email address fer me on this here blog (at the left) turnt out to be wrong, witch i caint see a thang that wuz ever sent to the one that wuz rong. i jes fixt it sos its rite now. so ifn ye ever writ to it n gut no anser, now ye no why. mayhap ye orta try agin.

splainayshuns of buddy don: how we cum to be in californy

me n miz bds lives tuck a sharp turn last memoryall day, witch heres how it happent:

1. we had gut into a rut what i wood wake up with a hedache n i wood sleep mos of the day n whenever i gut up, generly sumtime round 4 pm, i wood have the best part of the day, witch twernt much.
2. up till that point in our lives, we dint go to the emergentsee room on a counta how once in 2002 we dun that over to a hospitull name of bellview with terrbull reesults. i had bin vomitin fer bout 8 hrs by then, so they give us a bucket n tole us to sit in the corner n wait, witch we dun it long as we could till i figgerd wudnt nobidy a'gone take a vomitin migraneur as a urgent case; so for years after that, we dint go to no hospitals.
3. then cum that awefull memoryall day last year. got up after trine to sleep off the hedache round 7 pm. tride to eat but commenced to vomitin n cudnt stop, no how no way ... all nite long.
4. nex mornin, miz bd wood not take 'no!' fer an answer whenever i tole her i dint wonta go to no hospitull n git a bucket sos i could sit in the corner n wait. i wuz tuckerd near to death by then, tho i dint real eyes it. i cudnt fite back no more.
5. once we gut to the Hoboken University Medical Center, thangs happend faster n faster. turnt out i wuz sickern i knew. i bin tole i couldnt identify whar i wuz (i sed "hoboken," n they ast me whar in hoboken, witch i cudnt thank of the wurd fer hospitull so i sed, 'that place whar they hep folks.' i also cudnt say the presidents name, tho i knew it. n thay wuz a slew of other thangs i cudnt git rite.
6. they give me ever test they had jes about, witch they also had thar chaplain, a real nice woman who i caint member her name, stay with me jes in case she wood be needed.
7. long story short, they cudnt git the vomitin to stop till 2 pm, n i cudnt eat nuthin cept ice fer anuther two daze.
8. but i wuz so confused fer so long that ifn loretta, mz bds daughter, hattent cum to hep me, i cudnt have ansered a boatload of questchuns bout my life. twuz a nice sprize whenever i seen how loretta dun knew all the ansers (witch she gut sum of em by readin shoot the devil, witch ye kin still git ye one by orderin it on this here page).
9. they kep me in that hospitull fer 4 daze in all n tole me at the end, after givin me more tests than i had ever had in such a short time, that i have terrbull migraines. tell me about it!

after that, after they sent me to a few other speshulists, seem lack everbidy agreed thay wudnt much could be dun fer a cronick migraneur lack me, jes to make me as cumfertabull as kin be n teach me to live with it n such. as one "palliative care" speshulist tole me, "The good thing is that pain is self-limiting. It always stops eventually." He sed botox wood wurk fer me, lease fer panefull hedaches, but i tole im twernt my problem to endure pane. tiz the vomitin that i caint abide. so he agreed that botox woodnt do much fer me.

in sted, we discussed movin to a place whar the weather dont hardly change much. we found thays three places in the US that fit the bill best: Honolulu, San Diego n the Coachella Valley, mainly the eastern, shielded part of it.

the only one we could a ford wuz the Coachella Valley (Palm Springs, Cathedral City, Indian Wells, Rancho Mirage, Desert Palms, Coachella, La Quinta, Indio, n Desert Hot Springs).

me n miz bd cum out here in late July when thangs wuz cheap, even in Palm Springs, to look the place over n see sum real estate. we cudnt hardly bleeve the prices. houses with 3 beds, 2 baths, pool, spa, beautiful landscaping, all fer under $150K. corse, i gut sick the secunt day of that visit n spent the hole week vomitin, unable to eat nuthin, gittin to know how good the medical facilities is round here. twuz a ruff week, but we wuz deecided. so we dun it, moved out here.

n has it fixt them migraines? not as much as i had hoped. thangs is better in sum ways: i git more fair daze whar i have migraines that i call "walkin migraines," on a counta i kin still walk the dogs. n i git verr good daze also, but i still git awefull sick n have bin to the emergentsee room 8 times so far (i am nearly a munth past the last visit, which thats purty good).

i am a'hopin that i have woke up frum sum medicayshun i wood lack to discuss ... ifn i kin stay well fer a lil spell ...

rare post of buddy don: how i bin sick n all

fack is, i aint gonna git to the 'n all' part. still too sick, but thays a slew of news items i could tell ye ifn i had the health. but i manely need to let sum folks know the follerin:

i am alive n as well as kin be eggspeckted ("i bin worse"), livin in the low desert out here in californy.

twuz our hope that movin to the desert mite could hep, witch thays bin a few more good daze than we had in hoboken n a daze few thats bin as cruel n panefull n hard as inny we ever seen or herd tell of. suffice to say, the securty gard at the hospitull mergency room dun alreddy knows me. my hartfelt pallgies to ever one of my friens in new york fer not saying nuthin bout leavin, fer not sayin goodbye or so long or whutever. but i wuz sick so much that i never could git nuthin dun, see much of innybidy, n thay wudnt no way i could see all that wuz deservin. tiz my fervent hope to git well a nuff to keep up with life. time will tell.

Waka of budo adana: Possibilities

Possibilities

I sit and ponder
In early morning twilight:
Possibilities,
Hungry children, begging me:
How sad I may feed but one.

pomes of buddy don: God

God

That God is All and Everything should be
As obvious as moonlight on the plains,
Or sunlight sparkling through the dewy leaves,
Or even just the smell of morning coffee --

Not as distant as coldly winking stars,
Nor as deadly as active volcanoes,
Nor as pristine as ponds of sacred lotus,
Nor as awe-full as the calculus of pi --

But closer than can be imagined,
As real as a dying honeybee’s sting;
For with All and Everything, God must be
Even simple sinners such as You and I;

For as flowers reflect sun and rain,
Every new born babe embodies God.

waka of budo adana

Beyond anything,
Even the most distant stars,
Lies everything,
From fragile cherry blossoms
To finely crafted caskets.

waka of budo adana: illness

Illness

The whole wide world shrinks
Into a bubble of self
Only life or death
Only a question of when
Never the answer of why

mizry of buddy don: aura at dawn

aura

the aura at dawn
its paisley pixilation
left half of the world
a cruelly kind precursor
low tide before tsunami

cumpny of buddy don: mizry luvs cumpny

Miss Liberty

Vomiting migraine …
Psychotherapy later …
Yet Miss Liberty,
Our kittenish Bombay cat,
Claws my knee, begging to play

mizry of buddy don: the rong wurds cum out ...

i need to say a few wurds bout the author, witch hes bin so sick fer so long that he dont hardly never go near no keybird, witch that keeps me frum gittin a chants to touch it my ownself.

but tuther day he seen sumthin on the tee vee that made him blush frum the shock of reckugnishun.

twuz that story bout the reporter with the migraine on tee vee name of Serene Branson.

the aura she sufferd is one of the wurst mizries a bidy kin have, speshly one that has to talk on tee vee.

or frum the authors self-centerd point of vue, tiz horrbull fer sumbidy that has to rite.

but on a count a how he generly gits migraines furst thang in the mornin, witch thats when he lacks to rite or even let me git to the keybird, he sum times gits that same aphasick aura that miz Branson had rite thar on tee vee, n seem lack he has dun lost his confidents with wurds or sumthin.

on a counta the rong wurds cum out ...

fack is, he has dun writ this here lil post n lost it three times ...

ach!!

fonly i could git them migraine to scram by pertendin the author has em n i dont! i am so sick of these dam thangs to whar i caint hardly thank strate.

n wurst part is, wurser even than the pain (but not wurser than the vomitin) is whut happend to that pore reporter.

i know jes how she mus feel on a counta i have bin talkin to miz bd a minny a time when i caint do no better. or i call thangs by thar rong names, callin the sink a lake fer egg sample. or i wake her up a'talkin that same kinda gibberish miz Branson wuz talkin, only in my sleep. ye mite egg speck that whenever yer sleepin, but by the time i am trine to talk, i thank i am wide awake n jes caint make miz bd understand whutever i am trine to say on a counta the rong wurds cum out. i git frustratd n angry n hurt n cunfused all at the same time to whar i caint hardly do nuthin. corse whenever it happens thays a world ful of pain on the way.

n too minny times to count i try to rite sumthin n find the rong wurds on the screen whenever i open my eyes up to read whut i writ (or tried to rite).

thang is, i know eggzackly whut tiz i wonta say n the eggzack wurds i wonta say, witch i kin see em in my mind, but thay jes wont cum outta my mouth. or even offn the keybird. how kin that happen? i caint say, but it duz.

n after that, twill be a killer day of pain n mizry.

tiz a sad thang to watch sumbidy go thru such a hard momint lack Serene Branson dun on the tee vee, but tiz the furst time the author or me eethur one ever seen sumthin that shows jes how awe full migraines kin be. i hope the world gits the point that they aint jes lil hed aches. they aint sumthin a bidy kin git thru on will power.

tiz even sadder to know that she has dun started havin migraines n aint no way to stop em cumpleatly, lease not as fur as me or the author has bin able to figger out.

i hate to add mitt, but the author had to git me over to the keybird to talk bout this on a counta he is dun alreddy a'havin to his nex migraine, witch that means i am thar with im (we caint neethur one type with eyes open on a counta the monitors lite stabs the left eye ever chants it gits, witch that means thays a slew of miss takes to fix).

i hope the rite wurds has cum out.

mizry of buddy don: missin this lil feller

i bin sick so much n so often that i aint seen this lil piece of my hart in nigh on to 8 munths. i shore do miss eem:

mizry of buddy don: these thangs never stop

twas my intenshun to post a lil sumthin ever day sos i could git this blog a'goin agin, but thangs dont always go the way ye wont em to. so i wuz up at 12:30 yesterdy, trine to cunvints myself that i wudnt havin no migraine when i wuz. whut depresshun i felt over gittin sick agin. (when i have good daze, i caint imagin thays still bad daze a'cummin.)

then my blessed lil miz bd pointed out that with the weather we wuz a'havin, twuz a purrfeck day fer a migraine. i hadnt notissd durin the sufferin. soons she tole me whut the cawz wuz, i felt a hole lot better, even tho i wuz still in pain n nauseous.

so heres hopin fer a better day today. i count blessins ever sangle day n dont never git to the end of em. n i pray fer the folks i luv to cum thru thar struggles.

i am a'prayin fer my yunger bruther brew these daze, who hes in the hospitull recuverin frum open-hart surgry. i count it as a blessin that i kin talk to eem on the fone each n ever day, sumtimes a cuple times. whutever trubles i have ever had seem small whenever i look a whut other folks is puttin up with.

pitchers tuck by buddy don: cuple of them pets

the year 2010 has bin bout the worst of my life in more ways than a bidy could count. i aint a'gone list em on a counta how i dont wonta dwell on that kinda thang. i druther thank bout good thangs, lack the way Kingsley n Miss Liberty made such good friends. Miss Liberty gits along with everbidy, but Kimono n Kingsley aint figgerd each other out yet.

heres them friends:



heres hopin nex year will be a bettern fer everbidy ... mayhap we all kin make better friends of our fates ...