Taking the day off!  I didn't feel well last evening and slept for almost twelve hours.  Finally got my butt out of bed, went into the washroom, looked in the mirror, and turned around and went back to bed.  Someday's it's just no use to even try and today is one of those days.  Going to take advantage however and finish two on my stories that I am currently writing, get caught up on Internet activities, watch some old westerns, and clean my guns.
Had the privilege of having dinner with a long time old friend of mine last night, Roger McCoy.  We discussed many topics but one was my hesitation to go in for this bone marrow transplant, especially after seeing so many people that have gone through it and the side effects they have when they are done.  His comment was simply to think of my girls.  That generally does it for me.  Sometimes we get side tracked and lose our direction.  It's not coming out of this transplant looking like death warmed over that really has me bothered, but it's more about the quality of life I may or may not have.  I have always stood by my belief that quality of life is better than quantity of life.  Perhaps I have just been reading too much.  Everything that I have been reading from blogs, to articles, to Facebook posts all lead to one common factor and that being they all have health problems, some with serious health issues.  It's seems like jumping from one fire into another.
I was able to spend a little time by myself yesterday.  I went up to Teardrop Rock and looked at the valley below.  Had my pistol on my hip due to the rattlesnake population out and about.  I just sat there like an old cowboy would.  I thought about where my life has taken me, the many roads I have traveled down and what the future might hold.  I thought about what life would be like from here on out if I refused the transplant.  How long would I live?  What kind of death would I suffer?  Could I beat this cancer without a transplant?  Am I really as tough as I think I am?  When I finally came down to my rig and drove off I had made up my mind once and for all.
Tuesday I am going to UCLA for one final blood draw.  Friday I am going in to have my chest catheter put in.  Sunday I am going to go check in for a bone marrow transplant.
After talking to my good friend Roger over dinner and a couple of other close friends throughout the day I have come to the realization that this really isn't about me.  Sure, I am the one who has to go through this, not you, my children, friends or anyone else.  It's me and me alone, but it's about my children and those folks that have bet on me to beat this.  I helped bring my beautiful children into the world and it's my responsibility, regardless of what I have to go through, to ensure that they have my guidance, knowledge and support for as long as they possibly can.  Sometimes we can get caught up in our own problems to the extent that we forget that we affect others in our world by our actions or thoughts.  For this I am sorry and truly feel bad if I have let anyone down.  I couldn't imagine a John Wayne or Clint Eastwood character letting something as minor as a bone marrow transplant getting them down.  Although John Wayne did pass of cancer, I have to believe he was as big a man in the end as he was in all his movies.  So, tonight I am going to start packing my gear and get ready to head out a week from this Sunday.  With the support of my children and many friends, I believe we can get this done.  Having done everything myself most of my life I realize this is one time that I can't.  With that being said, I wish to say thank you from the bottom of my heart to all that have been involved in my journey.  I will not let you down!  Cowboy's promise!

Been a long hard day.  Moved the rest of my ex wife's stuff out of a storage unit into her garage.  Four fully loaded trips but she's done.  Of course, I had help.  Then I parked in my favorite spot up on the country road and took a nap in my truck.  Now, I am laying here and thought I would take some time to get caught up on a few things, one being my blog.

The next ten days are going to be filled with much activity.  This weekend is Mother's Day which is a rough day for me being as my mother has dementia and hasn't known who I am for the past seven years.  I saw her in Denver this past winter, sat right next to her and she just looked at me and smiled wondering who I was.  I bit the bullet, but it was hard.  The place where I am currently staying is having family in from out of town for Mother's Day so I have to find a temporary place to hole up at from Saturday night to Monday afternoon.  I was told of this much earlier and am so appreciative of the room I have been using for the past few months.  Great people I stay with.  They have adopted me so to speak and there is nothing I wouldn't do for them.  With being said, I still need to leave for two days so that they can enjoy time with their family.  If anyone has a horse stall or barn and wouldn't mind me staying in it, I would greatly appreciate it.  I don't need anymore than that.  

Going to dinner with a long time friend tomorrow night which I am looking forward to.  I think we are going to have sushi, my favorite.  I know, cowboys eat beef, but his cowboy could eat raw fish every day of the week for the rest of his life.  Going to spend three or four days riding Cody around town.  He's boarded too far from any hills or riding trails.  Saturday morning is a bull riding school that a good friend is putting on and I will go out to help.  Afterward I think I shall take a long drive into the mountains, take my guns, some good music and sit on top of a huge boulder that overlooks the entire valley.  I used to go there years ago when I was down or needed to think.  I named it Teardrop Rock for it's where I would go to let everything out.  I need to do that again for everything is starting to back up on me and I am just too overwhelmed to sort through things right now.  

Unless you've been on the receiving end of death, and I have been eight prior times in my life, you just don't understand what goes through one's head.  Especially when you thought you were invincible at a point in your life being of what you made it through.  Now, I look at my daughters who don't really time for me being their lives are so busy.  I know they love me and they probably just think that the old man is so tough and resilient that he'll handle this no problem.  Of my five older children who are on their own, I haven't heard from my eldest daughter in two years; saw my youngest son a year ago or so, but we don't talk.  He has a beautiful daughter who I don't even know and probably never will.  My eldest son did send me a text a couple days and told me he would call today but nothing as of yet.  You know, you think you did good job as a parent, being there when your children needed you.  Going to all the games, plays, assemblies, walk-a-thons, open houses, meet the teacher night, dances, etc, etc, etc.  I never missed one.  Not one!  I was there, the old man.  Gave them all a roof, food, clothes, education and then one day, you're just not that important.  

My father was a beast.  He was adored and loved by the folks in his hometown but no one really knew what went on behind closed doors.  I didn't speak to him for twenty-five years until one day I decided to let bygones be bygones.  It took me a little to locate him and when I did I called him up.  I told him that I would never forget, for those memories are etched in my soul, but I did tell him that I forgive him.  For the next years before his passing we talked weekly.  I was not able to attend his funeral due to hospitalization for this damn cancer, but he knew I was there.  I feel bad for some of my children that may not have that opportunity to say whatever is on their minds.  That's a big anchor to have hanging around your neck the rest of your life.  I may rambling tonight, so if so, excuse me.  

If you've never seen the movie, "The Shootist", with John Wayne, do me a favor, watch it.  Watch it for me if you ever do anything for me at all.  You'll understand where I am at right now.  

I came out of UCLA the other day after my bone marrow biopsy and was just dejected looking at all the people in wheel chairs, masks on, grey skin, liaisons all over their bodies, and I just about lost it.  This is not me!  I don't roll like this!  Yes, I have fought this for three years.  I have lost almost everything of any material value.  Can't find a decent job.  Lost my wife.  Lost that "Hi dad" every night when I would come home.  No, I am not feeling sorry for myself, just trying to get you to understand what my mind is going through right now.  For some reason, this fight is unlike any of the other fights I have been through in my life.  Something is definitely different on this ride, but what the hell, let's see where it goes.

Good evening.  Ok, here it is!  Got my butt chewed out by my doctors, yes, doctors.  Had a cork screw drilled into my hip for the sixth time (bone marrow biopsy), but at least it was by my beautiful doctor, Sarah Larson, and was told that I can't partake in any extra curricular activities, such as bull riding and horseback riding after I have my chest catheter put in.  Can any of you that know me tell what word in that long sentence was the wrong word?  Yep!  You're right!
Tonight, I am laying here with an aching hip due to the bone marrow biopsy.  It's all good though.  Have to work it off Wednesday helping my ex empty her storage unit and moving things to her new home.  Just things I have to get done before I am admitted.  Have a lot planned in the next 12 days.  Four more nights of bull riding, a Texas Holdem Tournament, seeing good friends, making video tapes for my children, getting my rig ready for storage, working with Cody as much as I can, two more trips to UCLA next week before admittance, and dinner with my friends.
Oh, why did my doctors chew my butt off?  Well apparently, I am pushing myself too hard.  They want me to eat, try to gain some more weight, don't let my prescriptions run out, be at the hospital on the 17th, (they seem to think I am going to leave the state or something), quit being so independent, and act like I am concerned.  Let me address each of those topics.  I am not pushing myself any harder than I have in quite some time.  This is the my life, I live it to the fullest, and I will do whatever I want to do with it.  I eat when I think about it.  Yes, I could do so much better, but this cancer just takes away any appetite and before I know it, the day is over.  I told them I would be more conscious and eat a bit more often.  I am not going to gain any weight that is going to matter, in twelve days.  It just isn't going to happen.  Ok, I forgot to get my chemo refilled and missed two days.  Seriously, what is two days going to matter twelve days before I am admitted.  Thought that was a bit of stretch, but maybe they just wanted to get my dander up because I am so nonchalant about all of this.  My independence is a problem.  Everyone has problems.  Everyone has jobs.  Everyone had their own lives to attend to.  They want a list of people, preferably as few as possible, that are going to babysit me in the cancer hospital.  I told them I planned on taking care of myself.  I've done for 62 years and I think I can handle this.  This is where they got really upset with me.  One month in a cancer hospital, sixty miles away, and they think I am just going to have someone stay with me, 24/7?  I know that there have been a couple of offers to come for a day or two, but thirty days?  Ain't going to happen.  I worry about that when I get discharged.  They seem to think that I don't think this is a big deal because I don't act worried.  My doctor today said this, "You are the coolest cowboy I have ever seen, doesn't anything bother you?"  I told her that there were many things that bothered me but I just don't need to show that.  I have cancer.  I am going to have a bone marrow transplant.  I may not live?  I could have serious complications?  If I worried about any of those every day I would drive myself crazy and I don't think it would be healthy.  Yes, all those things are going to happen or could happen but that's part of the game.  I can't worry about those things.  It's not my style anyway.
I plan on riding with Luis one more time if possible, go to my final four bull riding sessions, ride Cody, play poker, meet with friends and have my farewell dinner on Sat the 16th.
Bottom line is this.  I am going to play poker with the devil for the ninth time in my life.  I have beat him the previous eight hands and I plan on taking him one more time.
Thanks to y'all for the comments, support, donations, time, prayers and love.  They're all important.  A lot of people I don't hear from as much as I did when this first hit the news wire, but I feel they are still concerned and want the best.
Time to hit the hay.  After shooting guns with my buddies this morning and six hours at the hospital, I am tired.  Goodnight y'all.

Laying here again with thoughts swarming in my head like bees on a hive.  Seventeen more days!  Seventeen more days to cram in some living.  My heart is bit heavy for I did something two days ago that I am not particularly proud of, but it was necessary.  Right now I need to concentrate on me.  I know that sounds awful selfish but I just have to.  I can't have someone in my life, not like this, not right now.  I am half the man I used to be and that just doesn't set well with me right now.  My girls are worried to death although they don't show it to me.  I am a dad and we can sense these things from our children.  I need to get through this ordeal, get healthy again, put on some weight, get back to work, and then I can start to rebuild my life.
I met with an oncologist on Wednesday at UCLA and I cut to the chase.  My questions were direct and I got direct answers in return.  I asked, "How bad is this really going to be?"  He looked me square in the eyes and replied, "Bad!"  He said it wouldn't be as bad if I was younger and had not lost so much weight.  He also said that the risks are higher with me and the reason they are doing this was because of my personality and toughness.  He added that he has never had a patient who doesn't seem remotely afraid.  My reply was simply, "What good does it do to sit and worry about it.  I got it, you fix it, and we'll move on."  He just laughed and shook his head.  Then I asked him about the mouth and throat sores that come when the inject the chemo into me.  He told me that there will be mouth sores, they will be painful, but we'll give you pain medication.  Then my vanity came out and asked him if it was a sure thing that I'd lose my hair?  He said, "Definitely!"  He recommended having my hair cut very short before I check in so I don't have to deal with it.  My last question was my most serious however, "Do I have a decent chance of making it through this?"  Now, when I doctor doesn't say yes or no and instead he replies, "We will do everything in our power to get you though this and make you as comfortable as possible", that isn't what I wanted to hear.  He got up, shut the door, sat down and looked me in the eye and said, "I am not going to bullshit you.  You're in bad shape and this is not guaranteed."  He told me that I had some other underlying issues that are going to make this a little dicey.  Then he had me lay on the table and he poked around a bit.  When I first came in I told him my inability to catch my breath sometimes.  He told me that all the pulmonary and cardiac tests came back negative but had a chest x-ray taken anyway.  After looking at the films he immediately went to my right ribs, pressed gently upon which I abruptly removed his hand with an "ouch!"  Apparently I have two broken ribs!  I had to have broken them two months ago when I went to buckaroo with a horse and fell of off awkwardly.  All I have been doing the past month and half is aggravating them by working with horses and that is why they aren't healing.  Also, having a body that isn't healing correctly isn't helping much either, but I refuse to lay down and told him that I'll fight through the ribs just fine.  As he was standing over me he looked down at the championship belt buckle that I had on and said, "Your a champion bull rider?"  I proudly said, "yes", even if it was 1977.  He helped me up and after I caught my breath he said, "If you can ride bulls, you can do this."  So, I suppose we will see.  My attitude is still above the clouds but there is that little bit of concern, but then I look back when I beat insurmountable odds when they told me I would die from stomach cancer and came out on top, again!  I have to be honest, as the day gets closer my bravery gets tested more.  Too many people have been following this journey of mine, some who have already gone through this procedure or other hard circumstances relating to cancer, to let them down.  Got to be a pillar of strength if nothing else.  I have a boy who fights in the UFC.  Stands 6'8" and weighs about 270.  He has taken over the reins of being the "family tough guy" but I guess I just have to show him and my other children that pops is still tough, don't count him out, not yet.
I have met some very wonderful people on CML site.  It's for me with the cancer, CML, that I have.  We talk to each other and tell our stories in hopes to motivate and inspire one another as we fight this disease.  The woman who started it is in Australia as are a lot of the other guys.  It will be nice to have these brothers in arm at my side, as well as this wonderful woman.  I told her that I would like to shake her hand one day for what she has done and thank her.  Never been to Australia, lol.
This coming Monday I am going shooting with the boys from the Northwest Corner and afterwards I'll leave from the range and drive to UCLA for the first of six tests that I must undergo.  The first test was scheduled for 10:30 in the morning and when the nurse coordinator called to confirm my appointments I stopped her in her tracks and said I will not be there in the morning and you best change that appointment to the afternoon because I have a prior commitment.  She did.  Hoping my daughter Brittany can go shooting with us.  She's met the boys and would love to shoot guns with us and I would love to have her along.
Going to spend tomorrow going to Norco to pick up some leather strips so I can fix the saddle, have lunch at Pat's Kitchen, pick up some new spurs straps and make the rounds.  Saturday will be spent with the horse in the morning and bull riding at night.  Looking forward to seeing my pards Saturday night.  Nothing more that I would rather be doing than bull riding.  Sunday I am going to church and bring the roof down.  Monday, shooting and having tests all afternoon.  Going to have to things to do the rest of the week, but leave it to me I'll come up with plenty of options.
We all make mistakes.  We all fall off sometimes.  Doesn't matter.  Get up, dust off, pull yourself back in the saddle and try again.  Yeh, it's an old worn out saying but it's the best I got.

     Tonight as I lay here it has become a time to reflect.  A photo was posted of me by a friend, and a great photographer, Austin Wallace.  Unfortunately, he is not a magician and you just can't make old, weathered and tired look good, but I really appreciate what he did for me.  My children really don't have any photos of me. I guess I was the one always taking the pictures and I just didn't make it in many of them, so I asked Austin if he would take some photos of me in my element that I may pass down to my children.  He obliged and came out on a Saturday and shot for an hour and a half.
     Earlier this afternoon I stopped by to see my girls.  My baby came out and gave me a big kiss and hug.  We talked about volleyball, school and grades.  She is only fourteen and is growing up fast just like her brothers and sisters did.  After got in my truck and drove around the corner, I pulled over and parked.  A song was playing by George Jones called, "He Stopped Loving Her Today."  The song had nothing to do with Berlyn and I, but if you know the tune it's a real tear jerker.  For whatever reason it made me think about the possibility of not making it through this transplant and never seeing my children again.  Never holding them or hearing their voices say the sweet things they do.  Not seeing my youngest go to her proms or graduate.  Not seeing either one get married or being able to walk them down the aisle.  Never to see my boys whom I never see anyway, but the thought of that possibility being taken away forever.  I thought about what I have done in my life, what I would leave behind for them, and how I wouldn't be there to protect them as I have always done.  What would be on my tombstone?  Would anyone show up to bury me?  Just thoughts that go through my head and they seem to be more frequent as the day approaches for me to be admitted.
     I suppose you have to go through a life and death situation to really know what I am talking about.  Don't misunderstand my words for I am not giving in or giving up, but simply being realistic.  My doctors have given me a lousy deck of cards.  I am not going to get into that or what is wrong, but simply say a few words that hopefully will make a difference is someone's life.
     Whatever your problems.  Whatever is holding you back from finding true happiness, stop what you're doing, take a good look at yourself in the mirror, and if your not totally happy with that person then do something about it before it's too late.  Yes, I have made mistakes by the hay wagon full.  I have made enemies.  There are probably a few people in this town that are hopeful that I die, but there are so many that have gathered around and offered me more support and love than I deserve.  I couldn't help but me moved by all the compliments on the photo that was posted.  I don't know most of them, but just to read some kind words from strangers was quite moving, and for them I thank you.
     In the upcoming weeks there is so much that I wish to accomplish.  I shall continue to do what I love and that is going to the bull pen for bull riding on Wed and Sat nights, being around Cody (a QH that I am working with), being with my girls, being with my girl, being with my adopted family, my friends, playing some Texas Holdem, going to church, shooting my guns with the Northwest Corner gang and having a big rib eye steak dinner with all my friends that afternoon before I go into the hospital.  Speaking of which, we are going to be on the deck at Roscoe's at four o'clock on May 16th and all are welcome.  The next day, May 17th, I go into UCLA for my big rodeo.
     On an upbeat note, I plan on beating this damn cancer.  I beat it once in my life and I'll beat it again.  I no longer promise things to people but I will promise y'all this, I'll be back to ride bulls on my 65th birthday at the San Dimas and Norco rodeos.  I'll be back to take my daughters on that vacation I promised this year; walk my girls down the aisle; tell the boy that wants to take Berlyn to the prom that if he makes her cry that he'll cry too; see my boys and my granddaughter; get to know my girl better; give back to all that gave to me; and hug each and everyone of you that stood by me, through flush or full.
     As I have said before, you can lay around and feel sorry for yourself and let whatever ails you beat you down, but I embrace this cancer.  Bring it on!  Bring it all on!  Let's dance you and I so I can show you just what I am really made of.  For years, many people looked at me as being strong on the outside but they never really knew the inside, so now it's time to show them just what a cowboy is really made of.  I know this hospital stay is going to be hell, I don't pretend it's not, but I just can't quit.  I just don't know how anymore.  There's one of the ten commandments of "The Code of the West" that reads, "Finish What You Start", and I aim to finish to this fight, standing up!

     
   

Laying here tonight and I can't remember the time my body has hurt this bad.  Having a latigo on the saddle break loose resulting in being thrown off, a shoulder that is just plain raw from shooting many 30/30 rounds, and bone pain from this damn cancer, I am finally breaking down and taking some pain medication and muscle relaxants.  Watching a old Randolph Scott western call Comanche Station.  Sure wish I could have lived in those times.  My mother always told me that I was born 120 years too late and she was right.
Tonight I received a call from UCLA and the final date of my freedom is set for May 17.  That's the day I am to check in for my transplant.  Now that I definitely know, I am planning my next three weeks.  Going to gyo shooting one more time, having a great dinner at Roscoe's with my friends, spending times with my girls, going to meet an old friend at Morongo's for breakfast and some Texas Hold Em, spending time with my new girl, riding some horses, dinner at Pat's Kitchen, bull riding on Wed and Sat nights, and pushing it as hard as I can.
I ran out of chemo drugs a few days ago and called my nurse practitioner to let her know.  She got all bent because I have been out of a few days and should have called earlier because this could kill me.  Hell!  Who are they kidding?  I have dealt with this hideous disease for three years now, what it another few weeks going to do with or without medicine?  Tomorrow I will pick up the prescription and make everyone happy.  I am sorry, I just don't take this that serious.  I mean look at it from this perspective, I was told three years ago that I had six to eight months to live and here I am today living life large and full.  I have three weeks before I go in, which at that time they are going to basically kill me and try to bring me back to life.  I really think I can go another three weeks without any problem.
Going to lay here and watch "Broken Trail",  rest this body and hopefully be ready for some bull riding action tomorrow night followed by some dancing with my girl.
Life is good.  It's what you make it.

Going to have an endoscopic routine done tomorrow to determine if stomach cancer is back or not.  It's really an uncomfortable procedure in that they give you a little sedative and tell you to swallow a television cable.  Just counting the days to May 14, trying to live large and bold until then.  Went shooting with the boys yesterday and had a great time.  Fired a few too many rounds from my 30/30 because my titanium shoulder is black and blue from the recoil.  It helps to have a little muscle in front of the bone, or steel in my case.  Nonetheless, it was a great time and I'd do it again tomorrow.
According to some, I am just not compassionate enough for most of the human race.  I am to rough around the edges.  Maybe it has something to do with the way you grew up, although I don't blame my wrong doings in life on my childhood, never have, never will.  My father was a very heavy handed man who many time would beat his children because of the conflicts he had with my mother.  Throw some booze into the mix and you just never knew how you were going to go to bed.  Granted, back in my day the belt was the source of punishment but even then it can get out of hand, and it did.  When I saw my father beat my mother to a pulp I found it so repulsive that I have never hit a woman in my life and I never will.  Any man that hits a woman is not a man.  He's a coward!  When I finally left home and moved to Grantsville, Utah where my cousins and Uncle Pudge took over, things began to change for the better in my life, at least for a little while.  I grew up with tough men, hard workers, drinkers, smokers, fighters and just plain tough men.  It became my way of life and it chiseled me into the person I am today.  Don't get me wrong, I am no longer a physically tough man.  Sure, I might ride bulls and break horses but the days of physically strength are behind me.  I am however mentally tough.  I have sympathy and empathy towards others when I feel it is called for.  When it's not, I don't.  I never had anyone feel sorry for me, pat me on the bottom and say, "It's going to be all right."  I was around people that never showed pain or let you know that something was wrong.  Times have changed and so have people, but some of us are just too set in our ways.
I would never wish anyone to have what I have or any other illness.  I will help anyone I can, just as long as they will try to help themselves.  If you knew the story of me and one of my sons, you would know what I am talking about.  There comes a time when no one can pick you up but yourself.  I am not sure I want to write on this blog page anymore.  I just feel out of place with so many people anymore in that this world has just gone far too soft.  Perhaps I just need to write my book, shut up, and deal with what lays ahead.  My way of inspiring is not for the weak of heart.

Just a few photos to go with the face. Cody and I having our morning kiss; Cody and I trying to stay still, lol; Cody feeling a bit spirited; an old ugly cowboy just wondering; and the same one with his six shooter on. Had a great time, thanks much Austin.

Got the call today.  May 14th!  Finally!  Time to warm up.

Somehow I am hooked up to a link on my Facebook page that is for folks diagnosed with leukemia.  A couple of thoughts have come to mind as I read some of the posts.  First, it's amazing how many people are being diagnosed with all forms of cancer, not just leukemia.  As I have stated before it is my personal belief that this outbreak is do to the food and water that we have been subjected to intake.  To me it's the common thread that we all share.  The chemicals that have been added to our food chain and water supply must have an affect on our bodies over time.  Secondly, the attitudes that people have when they find out they have leukemia.  Now, there are different forms of leukemia and most of them are very treatable with new and improved drugs.  However, there are those rare birds such as myself that happen to have a rare disorder and are not treatable but the intake of these drugs.  Ok, so what I say?  So many of these people that have just been diagnosed, in fact I have yet to read one that has a positive attitude, seem to wallow in their diagnoses and want people to feel sorry for them.  One particular woman I responded to was upset with me because I told her to embrace her cancer, cowgirl up, and use it to her advantage and the advantage of others.  You have it!  Ok, deal with it.  Don't let it control you and dictate how your going to approach the rest of your life.  She stated that she didn't want any pep talks, but instead she wanted to know that there are others out there that experience the same pain she does.  What the hell?  Of course there are.  Some of us are in more pain than others but I don't need to hear that from anyone.  I want people around me that are going to offer me support, keep me pumped up when I start to feel beaten down, and encourage me to "Cowboy Up."
Last night as my fellow bull riders and I met with Dave, the cowboy poet, at Pat's Kitchen he complimented me on my attitude because I told him it's just another bull ride to me.  Maybe this bull is the biggest, rankest, meanest bull I have yet to ride, but it doesn't mean he is not ride-able.  Remember, there isn't a cowboy that can't be throwed and a bull that can't be rode.  I just refuse to back down and give in.  I welcome this challenge in my life.  Bring it on because when I beat this one there will be another one down the road I'll need to be ready for.  Challenges make us stronger.  Yes, there have been many times when I have been beaten down so hard that I just wanted to give up, but like Dave said last night, "When your world seems so dark that you can't see there is always a little speck of little that you need to keep striving to get towards."  It's that light that keeps you going and keeps you alive.  He's right!  Tomorrow is going come.  The sun is going to rise and the day will go on.  There will be a way to get through.
As I write this the pressures on me today are heavy, I just decide not to show them to others.  Instead, I like to think of myself as being a bigger man and not think of my problems, but the problems of others that are less fortunate than me.
Dave Backer was such an interesting man to listen to last night.  It's amazing what you can learn if you just shut your mouth and listen.  Dave is only five years older than I, but his travels, which have paralleled mine in many ways, gave me encouragement as I prepare for my bone marrow transplant.
Now for a medical update.  I have heard from my doctors regarding the stomach cancer concern and am scheduled for a endoscopic routine so they can go in and take a peek at what's going on.  They have ruled out stomach cancer but are concerned as to why I occasionally cough up blood and have stomach pain.  So, this is good news to me because I wasn't quite sure how I would have responded to having stomach cancer again along with leukemia.  I just spoke with the nurse coordinator at UCLA and she is currently working on my file and is going to call me in one half hour to give me a date when I will receive my transplant.  So, things are progressing and it's time to getting ready to ride.
When us bull riders are getting ready to ride we go through many preparations behind the chutes that the folks in the stands don't see.  We get warmed up, stretch our bodies, spend time alone thinking about what we are about to do, how we are going to ride the bull we have, getting our gear ready, rosining up our rope and glove, putting on our spurs, taping up our bodies, making sure that our minds are in the right place.  Well, in half an hour I will finally start getting warmed up.
Would like to thank all of those who attended the fund raiser on my behalf at Jojo's and contributed all the many items that I will need once I am moved to the Tiverton Hotel.  The funds that were generated have helped me make it a bit easier to get through life and get me to this point.  I was told of a comment someone made regarding the GoFundMe account in which this person said that I was "making bank."  This is so far from the truth.  There have been many expenses during this journey that needed to be addressed, and there are still issues I have to address before I go in, and these funds have helped take some of that pressure off of me.  There is nothing proud about being on disability.  I don't like it and would much rather work for my money, but as long as employment is out of the question at this point, it is nice to know that I have earned some disability from all the years that I did work.  When I am through with this cancer I will be back to work and will get off disability.  I have ambitions and dreams to fulfill in my life and I will once again walk through another dark hell only to reach that little speck of light.  I would like to thank my family for all their support and love, especially my daughter Brittany who nursed me back to health when I left the hospitals in the summer of 2013.  There is no doubt I would have died in the nursing home I was placed in after my second long hospital stay and it was Brittany who took off ten weeks of college to stay with me and nurse me back to health.  To my friends, old and new, for all the encouragement, love and support.  To my friends on the Northwest corner.  Most of all, to the Lord above for giving me this trail and tribulation.  For keeping me in the game all these years for I truly believe he still has great plans for me in the future ahead.  When I find out the date of my transplant I will post it immediately for y'all.  Till then, "If you're going through hell, keep going."  Winston Churchhill.

Howdy.  I have taken some time off of writing due to a few changes in my life, however, I am still alive and kicking.  It's always a good day when you're standing on the grass.
This past Saturday night was bull riding practice, getting ready for today's rodeo in Norco.  Took my girl to the practice session and gave her a taste of my world.  She is a horse trainer, a damn good one I might add, but has never been up close and personal with bulls.  We had a decent turn out and when it was over and we got into the truck I asked her what she thought.  Her remarks were something like, "Why do you guys do that to yourselves."  It's hard to explain to people that have never rode bulls or even been to a rodeo, but it's the danger, the adrenaline rush, courage, toughness, and the dream of being a world class cowboy are just a few of the reasons why.  As I lay here and type this blog I will be honest, I hurt.  My body is in constant pain from what I have done to it, but if I had to do it all over again, would I?  No I wouldn't, instead, I would have driven myself harder, pushed the envelope just a bit more.  Every pain in my bones has a story and I am proud of the way I feel because I did it my way.  Yes, I have been told by many people along the way to stop for one reason or another, and I am sure their reasons were solid but when you tell a cowboy that he can't do something you might as well tell him to go do it anyway because that is just what he is going to do.  I am going to kick this cancer right between the legs, drop it to it's knees, and walk away.  When I get healed up I am going to work harder than ever to put myself back in shape so I can go back to doing what I love to do, ride bulls.  None of my children have ever seen me ride.  They were born after I retired professionally or where quite young when I did.  This is who I am.  This is what I love and I am hoping that they will come out and watch their old man one time.
So the plan is this.  I am expecting a call from UCLA on Monday to give me a date as to when I am to be admitted for the bone marrow transplant.  I will go in, take whatever they give me, beat this, get out and get back home.  Knowing that it will take me a while to regroup and get my strength back up, I'll give it six months.  After that, it's back to the gym to rebuild, get the legs back in shape, strengthen the core, back and arms.  Then I'll be getting on beginner bulls and working my way up to the big boys.  I figure I will be riding at the Norco Horse Week Extreme Bull Riding the year after next.  I should be the oldest bull rider in the nation at the age of 65 and to me that is something to be proud of because most guys my age look like their reading to kick the bucket.
Tonight after the rodeo, Jake, Jorge and I, stopped by Pat's Kitchen in Norco to wash down the dirt and grab a bite.  On the way out the door I heard someone say to me, "Why are you limping?"  I turned around and saw a man sitting by himself.  He was wearing a Norco Rodeo Posse uniform.  They are the people who run the rodeo.  I said, "Because I'm an old bull rider."  Long story short he invited us to sit down at his table.  His name is Dave and he is five years older than me.  A Vietnam vet who enlightened us on some of this journey and suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  I told him that I suffer from the same disorder and we shared our stories.  It was a great sit down for Dave is also a cowboy poet and he recited two poems that he wrote.  I have never heard anything more beautiful in my life and asked him to send them to me via email so I can share them with you.  Jake and Jorge were with me as I stated earlier and were all ears.  Dave and I did the talking.  When we walked out to our trucks to go, Dave was paying for the bills because he insisted on paying our tab as well.  While Jake, Jorge and I were outside I told them that this is what life is all about, relationships.  If you don't have good, solid relationships in your life, you ain't got spit.  Maybe you got the houses, cars, boats, jewelry and whatever else, but if you don't have relationships you're dirt poor.  I would rather have the true friends I have than all of that.  Tonight, I started another relationship that I am certain will carry me until one of us dies.
Life is hard right now.  Cancer, financial stress, a truck that gets ten miles a gallon, aching broken bones and being old and ugly, but I am not complaining.  I am a rich man.  I like my life.  I like where I am going, who I am with, and what the future holds.  My life is good today and will be better tomorrow.  I hope your's will be too.  Goodnight.

Today is Monday and no news.  It appears I will not be told anything until Wednesday.  Like the anticipation of death is worse than death itself, so is waiting to know if something is wrong with you.  Regardless, I spent the morning working with Cody and after getting my fanny kicked by him today I am sitting down and going to try and finish my movie "The Shootist."  For you that have never seen this John Wayne film, it was his last for two years later he died of cancer.  I am not pessimistic!  I believe people that know me, know that I am anything but;however, the thoughts of not living through cancer are always in the back of your mind.  No matter how tough you are, how resilient, if you have cancer those thoughts just exist.  I think I would call anyone a liar who disagreed, but it is life.  We don't always get good cards when the dealer throws them out, but if your a good poker player, and I am, you learn how to bluff and win.
Not to get to personal, lol, but when I got out of the shower this morning and stood in front of the mirror I took a good look at myself and shook my head.  Only three years ago I was big, strong, tough as nails, and now I am not so big, not so strong, but tougher than nails.  It's difficult to be in one body and then in the matter of a couple of years your in a different body.  It's all vanity and I believe the good Lord has his reasons and I am OK with it all.  There is so much more to a person than looks.  People change over time, hopefully for the best, but they do change.  I used to live hard and fast, wild and reckless.  I just lived for the day.  Now I live hard and slow, not quite so wild and not quite so reckless, although I do love bull riding, breaking horses, and being challenged, but I have slowed down a lot.  When I drive my truck I just poke along and take in everything around me, where as before I would fly by and never see.  I spend more time looking at people, trying to find the downtrodden and getting to know them.  Getting to know their story.  It's amazing what you can learn by just listening to the lives others.  So many times people think they have it bad until they listen to someone else.
I had four goals that I set out with this year.  I may have mention this before and if so, excuse me.  I wanted to take my daughters on a vacation to Disney World, beat cancer, finish my book, and ride bulls at the San Dimas rodeo.  Well, it doesn't appear that I do two of the three, you figure em out, but I will do the other two.  If they tell me my stomach cancer is back then I'll just have to deal with it.  I jokingly say that if that were to be that I would pack a short pack for a long ride.  That won't happen because that would be that I quit and if there are two words I don't like, quit and can't, just crawl under my skin.  A friend posted on my Facebook page something along these lines, "The best way to get a cowboy to do something is to tell him he is to old."  Well, I added on to that and said, "Tell him he can't and he will."  Point is this, whatever you have, whatever your troubles, health, money, skeletons in the closet, addictions, whatever, wrap your arms around it.  Embrace it as a challenge.  Trust in God!  Another post that I read was something like this, "If your going through troubled times and you don't think God is listening, remember, the teacher never talks when you're taking a test."  Tomorrow the sun is going to come up, it'll be a new day, and life will go on.  Make it all you can.  Goodnight.

Had quite an eventful evening. I ended up at a place called Montana's in San Dimas. Was just sitting there by myself, watching everyone dance, and was just about to get up a leave when a beautiful woman came up and asked me if I was alone and if so would I be interested in joining her table where she had other friends. Well, I accepted and walked over and was introduced and we began talking. Now, I have done everything a cowboy can do but one thing, dance. I was asked if I dance and I replied, "no." I tried to use every excuse I could think of as to why I can't but it did not detour this woman from getting me on the dance floor. I felt like an elephant trying to step across a sea of eggs. However, I kind of caught on and really did enjoy myself. It felt so good to get out and do something different. After some conversation I learned that she was a cancer survivor some fifteen years ago so there was a common thread. She is also a horse trainer, another common thread. She is beautiful, funny, and works hard. You never know where life is going to take you. I told her what is going on with me, that I would be laid up for awhile and that I really don't have anything to offer anyone right now, but she disagreed. I like her. She seems like a really good person. Going to go watch the new bull riding movie that is out. You don't find too many women that would want to go watch a movie about bull riding.
Waiting to here from my doctors tomorrow or Tuesday regarding my latest tests. This has been a long weekend not knowing what is going on with me, but it hasn't slowed me down. Still living life large, hard and fast. Don't have time to lay down and rest. I suspect I'll have plenty of time for that in the near future. Going to call UCLA tomorrow and try to get some answers regarding my donor situation. Will be awaiting a call from the oncologist regarding the resurfacing of stomach cancer. That's the main one right now.
Anyway, going to grab some grub, call it a night for I have a long day tomorrow. Looking forward to Tuesday and of course bull riding on Wednesday night. I appreciate all of you that have sent me private messages of faith, love and courage. I appreciate the posts and help along the way. They're all greatly appreciated.

Rode hard and put up wet today.

Not sure where to start tonight for a lot has been going on the past few days.  Had some tests done on my stomach to try and find out why I am bleeding.  Twenty-three years ago I beat stomach cancer, so I thought.  My white blood cell count is going through the roof again and it could be a possibility that it is coming back.  I will find out of Monday.  I will also hear from UCLA on what progress is being made on extracting the marrow from the donor.  My breathing at times is so bad I feel as though I am going suffocate.  I spent three days in Chino Valley Hospital and they couldn't find out why I was having breathing problems and chest pains.  My heart is in excellent shape, as are all my interior organs except my spleen, which is greatly enlarged, and now my stomach again.  I swear, I just can't catch a break, but it is what is it is and I will deal with it accordingly.  My body is riddled with pain and seems to be getting worse daily.  I am not posting this so you will feel sorry for me, I am merely keeping those who are interested in my journey in the loop.
I spent twelve hours at my Patty's new home with her mother and my our daughter Brittany.  The first fives hours I weeded the rose garden, made a trip to Walmart with my mother in law to pick up a new patio set, and then spent five hours putting the darn thing together.  She made me a nice chicken dinner and then I limped out to my truck and came home.  Tomorrow I am going back to finish the patio set, do a bit more weeding, and then heading out to the bull pen to help the young cowboys.  Right now I am just laying here watching some old westerns on the cowboy channel and will nod off soon.
I did talk to Patty about what is going on with me because she still cares and we have our daughters in common to think about.  I told her if my stomach cancer has resurfaced and having to deal with leukemia I don't know what I will do.  It's said that God does not give you any more than you can handle and I feel I have handled everything thus far pretty well, but throw this onto the fire and it's a bit more than I care to deal with.  I will just wait until Monday and try not to worry about any of this till then.  I just find it amazing that I took great care of my self for so many years and now everything is going in a 180 degree direction.  Don't know why or what the reason is but I am dying to find out, no pun intended.
May y'all enjoy your weekend and hopefully you're spending time with your families.  Don't take your life or your days for granted.  Don't think it will never happen to you.  Live hard, love often, and take the bull by the horns.  Goodnight.

Just a quick update

Howdy!  Still waiting for UCLA to drop the dime on me so I can be admitted and get this transplant going.  Feeling very tired the past week or two but I keep staying busy.  Today, I went to the home of my ex wife, mother in law, and daughters and pulled weeds in the backyard.  They have a very nice backyard with a great view of the Inland Empire.  Lots of flowering plants bordering the entire backyard, but the weeds are trying to take over so I have been pulling weeds in order to make their backyard look pristine.  Doing a lot of other chores such as hanging all the wall decorations, fixing problems as they arise and getting to spend time with all of them.  Needless to say, my body is completely trashed tonight.  I have work so hard in almost three years and my body is just not used to the bending over, digging with my hands, and lifting.  I much rather be riding bulls or breaking horses because my body is used to those activities but I have to admit, I feel good to have my muscles hurt like they do.  It's rather embarrassing to type that yard work is kicking my butt, but cancer definitely has a way of humbling a person.  Three years ago I was in the gym curling 140 pound barbell, 350 pound seated rows, knocking out 100 push ups to warm up, and now a bunch of weeds are giving me a run for my money.  When I beat this cancer, I'll be back!  Think I'll see if my buddy, Big Jack Bron, will allow me to work out with him.  If you don't know Jack, he is as big as a house, solid as a rock, and a good friend of mine.
Haven't been working on Cody as much as I would like being as I have been helping the girls in their new home.  Haven't been out to the bull pen for a couple of weeks either.  However, this Saturday I am going to a horse auction in the morning, working with Cody in the afternoon, and then out to the bull pen that night.  Thinking about heading up to Montana's in San Dimas after bull riding.
Just trying to live my life as though today will be the last.  Everyone tells me to slow down and get ready to go into the hospital.  I am ready!  I have been ready for quite some time but telling me to slow down is like trying to put a fire out with gasoline.  Just ain't going to happen.  I figure I will have plenty of time to lay around and rest when I go in so why not open the throttle up full speed and let er' rip.
It's amazing the number of people that have acquired cancer.  It's almost as if it is at epidemic proportions.  I really believe it is due to the food we eat and the water we drink.  We have been poisoned over time.  I read many posts on Facebook of people coming down with Leukemia and they all seem to have one thing in common, panic.  I suppose. rightfully so, they have reason to be afraid and frantic.  Personally, I am not afraid of it, nor am I panicking.  Instead of being afraid of it, I choose to wrap my arms around it and embrace it.  Bring it on!  I can beat it.  I will be it.  I have been through far too much in my sixty-two years to let this bring me down and beat up.  Granted, I have my times when my body hurts so bad I can't stand it.  When I can't breathe, or when I sleep for twelve to fourteen hours at a time, that I just want to quit, but those moments are short lived and I get right back up in the saddle and put the spurs to it.  Tonight, I hurt everywhere.  There isn't a bone or muscle that doesn't hurt.  I could take my morphine or dilaudid but then I am giving into it and I just won't do it.  I am stronger than this cancer and I will not let it dictate how I am going to live.  Don't misunderstand me, I am not bragging or putting myself up on some pedestal.  I'm just a tough old cowboy and I have a certain amount of pride in being the way I am.  Just like John Wayne when he acquired cancer.  It wore him down, beat him up, but he never gave in until it took him.  He didn't cry about it, didn't bitch about, didn't make any excuses.  He played the hand he was dealt and he played it to the end and I will do the same thing.
I would like to thanks my buddies Gary, Bill and Jack for putting up with me.  I would like to thank my girls on Facebook, y'all know who you are, for all the love and support.  I would like to give a huge thanks to my friends for allowing me the use of a room so I don't have to sleep in my truck.  Like to especially thank my family, Patty, Mom, Brittany, Berlyn, Teddy, Jack and Bob for all the help and unconditional love.
Going to lay my head down and let my body do what it needs to do tonight.  Remember, storms never last and they eventually run out of rain.  The glass is always half full!

First of all, a Happy Easter to y'all.  This is the first Easter in almost forty years where I have not watched my children celebrate or have the traditional Easter dinner.  It is all good however.  Yesterday I moved my ex wife, mother in law and two daughters into their new home.  As a father, I couldn't be happier for my girls and for my ex and her mother, I am also happy for them.  Fortunately, Patty and I, are still good friends, work together for the happiness of our daughters and personally that is the way it should be.  Unfortunately, divorces more often than not produce bitterness, anger, resentment, and hostility.  It's the children that suffer most and I am blessed that my daughters are only a few blocks away and have adjusted well.
Lately I have been thinking quite hard about this transplant I am to have.  As I stated in my previous blog it looks like the end of April when I will enter the hospital.  I no longer get to excited about anything until I see it happening, but I am optimistic that the doctors will make this happen soon.
The other night, I met a man who lives here in Chino Hills.  Some of you may know him.  His name is Carlos.  His son fell thirty feet, landed on his head, and is paralyzed from the fall.  I have met his ex wife before and know of their son's story.  As we talked he told me that it was the hardest thing he had every had to go through knowing that his son, his boy, would not be able to do the things that other young men can do.  Every father who has sons, I have two, always wants to be able to play catch, go fishing, go hunting, do things that a father and son do together.  This father and son can't.  All I could really was just listen to his story.  What impressed me most of all however was the will and determination of this father and his son to not give up on their dreams.  When I came home that evening I laid down and thought over what Carlos had said.  I thought about this blog page and what this blog page was set up to do.  To inspire others through the trials and tribulations that I'am going through.  After I read my last post I realized that I had not done that.  So, this is where it is.  I will go into the hospital, do the transplant and if God is willing I will walk out.  I will fight this cancer until I have no more breath left in my body.  The glass is half full, not half empty.  As bad as I feel sometimes, as much as I yell in my pillow at night, or just want to throw into the towel, I can't and I won't.  Everywhere I go it seems someone knows me.  They compliment me on my optimism and the fight I have inside of me.  It's overwhelming at times.  Sometimes I just don't have the words to respond back.  It is as though a huge responsibility has been placed on my shoulders and it is imperative that I succeed and win this battle.  I accept the responsibility and am thankful for those people who either follow my journey, have provided, or are praying for my recovery.  I will just leave it up to the Lord and whatever he says or decides will be what I shall do.
May y'all have a wonderful Easter and truly remember what this day represents.  Until the next time, sit tall in the saddle.

Finally received a call back from UCLA today.  They have found four donors and have received samples from three of them.  They are currently running tests on the samples to determine which one would be suit me and my needs.  Then they have to contact the donor, request the marrow, have it shipped, and then they'll drop the dime on me.  My nurse coordinator figures I should be in the hospital by the end of the month.  I am not holding my breath but I just as soon get this thing over with.
Lately, I have been overly tired, body hurts more now than ever, eat like a hummingbird and two days ago I have started to cough up small amounts of blood.  My blood is a thin as gasoline and when I scrape or cut myself, they just don't heal quickly.  Still refusing to take pain medications.  I do need to eat better for I have lost six pounds this past month.  It's just the cancer takes away the appetite and I don't pay attention to eat.  The out of sight, out of mind thing.
Going to move my ex, her mother and my two daughters into their new abode on Saturday.  I will feel so much better having them all together and close by.  So Saturday is going to be a butt kicker for this old cowboy.
Been working with the horses still and enjoy my time with them.  Bull riding as usual on Saturday night.
Haven't seen my homeless buddy for a week and am hoping that he is all right.
Need to find some work this month or I am going to have to get rid of my truck and rodeo gear.  Just can't make it on nothing disability.  Such a joke!  I really don't want to go in and have this transplant to be quite honest because then I will be stuck in a bed, worrying about bills, and be more miserable than I already am.  Plus, my little Berlyn is graduating in June from the 8th grade and I want to be there to witness her big day.
I got to thinking that two and half years ago, my first oncologist gave me six to eight months because my cancer was is the aggressive phase.  Two and a half years ago and I am still kicking butt.  Wondering if I am really that sick.  I am still here.  I still live life hard and fast.  People say I look good, so what the hay?
Saw a trailer for sale on Facebook, courtesy of Lucy, and will call tomorrow.  I am going to need to bed down somewhere when I get out, if I get out, and it would do just fine.  I know they say I will need someone to take care of me when I get out of the hotel, but I think they underestimate me severely.  I have take care of myself all my life, not married anymore, not have any attachments and I think I can do this.  Really don't want to be a bother, having to have someone around me all the time, getting my meals, medicine and taking me to doctor appointments.  It's just to damn much to ask of people.  The more I think about this, the more time it takes to get in, the further away I am beginning to get from it.  I am like a horse on the fence, damned if I do and damned if I don't.  Can't get a job.  No one will hire me because of the cancer and/or my age.  Been turned down by every place in town.  There is no need for cowboys in this town.  The two cattle ranches in town hardly have any cows on them.  Not like it was twenty years ago around here.
Well, enough of my crap.  Going to go to sleep and try to make an engagement tomorrow.  The father of some friends of mine passed away and tomorrow is his viewing and funeral.  I never met the man, wish I had, but I know his daughters and out of respect for them I am going to try and go.
Not a very interesting blog tonight, but I am just a little beat up, tired and discouraged.  I guess it happens to everyone sometime.
Goodnight.

Tonight I had the privilege and opportunity to meet with a young man who is going through some painful times that I went through in my life.  We had a great dinner with his family and then went off by ourselves to talk.  It matters not what we talked about because it is no ones business but ours; however, it was a moving conversation.  I relayed two stories from my past that will be two stories in my memoirs.  Both of them have to do with life and death, survival, holy intervention and understanding why I am still alive.  This young man is extremely intelligent, articulate, educated and somewhat street savvy.  His future is as bright as the stars on a cold Wyoming night.  The world is awaiting at his feet and I firmly believe he will conquer this world and many others.  God has allowed me to stay around a bit longer so that I may have the opportunity to work with young people such as this fine young man.  Tonight I gave him my solemn promise that he can count of me, anytime, anyplace, matters not.  As I was telling him this I could see his eyes swell up with tears.  I could see that he was trying to hold back, but they flowed down his cheeks.  As he wiped his face my heart just sank because I started thinking back when I was his age wishing someone would have sat down and talked with me about my troubles as a young man.  His courage to do this, not just shed tears to a person he just met an hour earlier, but to open himself up and to allow me in was extraordinary.  A new friendship was made tonight.  There is no way I can fail this young man.  The pressure is on and I wouldn't have it any other way.  He wants to go watch what goes on in my world, so we are going out to the bull pen in a couple of weeks and come with me while I work the horses.  I am so looking forward to spending time with this young man and hopefully can help him make the right decisions in life and not go down the dark roads I did.  I would encourage anyone who reads this blog to go out of your way tomorrow, reach out to someone, lend a hand, offer a compliment, or maybe just say hello to a stranger.  We are all in this together.  It's not about you, it's not about me, it's about us.
Goodnight.  Going to hit the hay for I have a long hard week in front of me and need a bit of rest tonight.

The importance of a handshake

As I lay here tonight I can't help but look at my hands.  It's said that women can do whatever they wish to their face, breasts, stomachs, butts, lips and hair to make themselves look younger but the hands always give their age away.  I don't know if this is true for men, but when I look at mine, they appear to me to be much older than I am.  They're scarred, weathered, every finger has been broken, one finger is forever bent, callouses and wrinkles.  They're downright ugly, but they tell a lot of stories.  These hands have done many things and if I had to pick a body part to tell my life's stories it would be my hands.  They have helped bring life into this world, yet, they have been responsible for taking life away.   They have dug ditches, roped wild horses, branded cattle, ridden bulls and broncs, lifted weights, driven tractors, planted crops, and hunted game.  They have been in fights, broken glass, shattered jaws, opened whiskey bottles, and been involved in irreparable damage.  They have felt the smoothness of a babies bottom, the softness of a woman's skin and wiped tears away from women and children, as well as my own.  Everything that these hands have done, from shaking the hands of a president, professional athletes, rock and country stars, do not remotely compare to the shaking hands of a friend.  That simple gesture that seems to be fading among this generation is crucial in the development of a relationship.  I have stated this before but it seems fitting to state it again.  My Uncle Pudge, as strong a man as I have ever known, taught me many lessons in life, but none as important as this.  When you shake a man's hand, or woman's for that matter, give them a firm handshake and look them in the eye when you do.  Don't look away from their eyes and don't be the first one to let go of the handshake.  He taught me that a person's handshake was their signature.  If they look away from you or don't have a firm handshake, walk away from them for they are not to be trusted.  To this day, that simple gesture determines whether or not I will have much to do with a person.  Tonight, I met four young United States Marines, fellow bull riders in Norco before we headed over to Mira Loma for bull riding.  We met up in a parking lot at the Boot Barn.  When I pulled my rig into the parking lot they were already waiting for me.  We all exited our rigs, walked up to each other and shook hands.  Not one of us looked away.  Not one of us extended some dead fish for a hand.  Each one of us knows that through this simple gesture that we are not only friends, we are brothers in arms.  We have each others back at any time.  We all decided to go grab a quick burger before bull riding, sat and talked for a bit, and then headed out to the bull pen.  Maybe it's a cowboy thing, I don't really know, but every cowboy out there has the same handshake with the stare in the eyes.  When the night was over and the bulls were fed and put away, we all sat around our rigs talking about everything under the sun.  When it was time to go, we shook hands again to say goodbye.  What was touching about his evening however was one of the young marines shook my hand again and said thank you.  Neither one of us let go and neither one of us look away during this final conversation of the night.  He thanked me for all the help that I have given him, not only in bull riding, but life.  Wow!  He went on to say that I have taught him more than his own father.  What do you say to that?  I was at a loss for words.  I told him thank you for the kind words and guaranteed him that I would always be there for him.  I told him that he was like a son to me, just like the others, and there was nothing I wouldn't do for any of them.  Since we first met a while back, our relationships just keep growing and growing, becoming stronger and stronger.  Now I am not relaying this story because I am anything special, for I am not.  I am just a man whose hands have done so many things, bad and good, but it's nice to hear someone from this younger generation offer appreciation for what you have tried to teach them.  His last words tonight before we said goodbye were, "I am going to pass along what you have taught me to my children."  I was more than honored when he told me that.  It all started a while back when I rolled in early for bull riding and these four young men were there before anyone.  I had never seen them before, but I walked up with my rodeo gear and introduced myself to them.  They all shook my hand when introduced and it's because of that moment, that simple gesture, that five cowboys have bonded and friendships are being nurtured and impressions are being set.
Don't take a handshake for granted.  It is your signature.  What kind of signature do you have?  Is it valid?  Is is trustworthy?  Is it real?
Nothing to report on the health issues tonight.  Although I didn't ride bulls tonight, working them in the arena takes a lot out of you and tonight, they kicked my butt.  Going to hit the hay, rest my tired body and sleep.
Goodnight y'all.  May the rode rise up to meet you, the sun shine on your face and the wind at your back.

Been a rough couple of days since I was released from the hospital.  Having dealt with this cancer bug for two and half years now I know how my body feels when my white blood cell count is back on the rise, and on the rise it is.  Monday, I will call my oncologist and get in to see her next week if possible.  Today, I was in another world.  Drove to my mother in laws place to take a load of plants to their new place, stopped to get my mail, put some fuel in the rig, went to the bank, came home and collapsed for a four hour nap.  This is after having a twelve hour sleep the night before.  Every time my white blood cell count goes on the warpath, the tiredness sets in and so does the pain.  I pray every night that my screams don't wake up others.  It feels like someone is taking a red hot branding iron to my bones.  I can't take enough pain medication and so I don't.  Just have to cowboy up.
I missed riding Cody today, just didn't have it in me, but tomorrow we shall ride.  Afterwards, I hope to grab some cheap grub, go see some friends in Norco, head over to the horse auction in Mira Loma at five and then go bull riding up the street at 7.
There are a couple of things on my mind tonight that I just need to get off.  Hopefully, I won't upset anyone, but if I do, well it was just meant to be.
I was invited to a writers club meeting the other night by a wonderful woman by the name of Christine.  She was the one who originally put the group together years ago and was kind enough to invite me.  I am not sure how she came to know me or why she thought I was a writer but regardless I accepted her invitation and we headed over to old town Pomona to an art gallery where this meeting was to take place.  Now, most of you know me well enough that I don't go anywhere without my hat, buckle, Wrangler's and boots.  I don't clean my hat and I don't clean my boots.  When we parked and got out of her car I felt I was in another country.  Nothing to do with other ethnic groups, but the way people dressed.  No one dresses like me, not even in Chino Hills!  I have to go to Norco to fit in around here and even there I get people that stare.  The meeting was interesting to say the least.  I was asked to read one of my stories that most of you have read in the past.  I chose to read the story of when I was in law enforcement and found the baby boy stabbed in his crib.  As I was reading my story I started to get a bit choked up at times because it is a memory that I wish I could forget, but I can't.  After I read my story the group, one at a time, nine people in all, began to offer their critiques.  Keep in mind that these people are on a whole different level of writing than I am.  I am not a writer.  I am terrible at English, the use of punctuation, grammar, pronouns, verbs, etc, etc.  I don't even know what a pronoun is.  One gentleman shared a play that he wrote.  A play!  Another shared a Sci-Fi story he wrote that was so over my head and ability to comprehend, I just pretended to know what the hell he was talking about.  One gentleman study writing at Harvard while another was an ex-college professor.  Talk about a fish being out of water.  They opened up my story like a can of tuna and scrapped out every last piece of fish and then rinsed the can in hot water before throwing it away.  I will admit, it is hard for me to take criticisms, especially by strangers, but I sat there and listened.  Didn't pull my knife or throw my fists but for a few moments I thought it would be best if I just got up and walked out.  However, I stuck it out and soon it was time to move on to the next story from someone else.  Then I was asked to critique and I just had to pass.  Who the hell am I to critique anything, especially some writing by folks that do this for a living.  I am just a simple Joe trying to put down on paper some life experiences so that my children may want to read them one day.  It's been a long time since I felt like a small fish in a big pond.  Now not get me wrong, these folks were good people.  I thoroughly enjoyed their company and their critiques were well received in the end.  They opened my eyes to just how terrible a writer I am and how much more I need to improve if I ever want to think about publishing my memoirs.  When I got home that night, I felt like I had just been on Bushwacker or Bodacious.  I now need to go back through my stories and dissect them, beef them up, and then one day maybe I will share them again.  I would like to thank Christine for allowing me into the group and hope to go back for another butt whooping.
For years I stayed away from going to church.  I was raised in the Mormon religion from the age of 5 to 16 when I left home.  It was all I knew and to this day, it is what I believe.  Now, I may not practice it well, for I fall on my face all the time, but it is my belief.  I don't go around putting other people down for what they believe in and I sure don't appreciate people doing it to me.  I have had folks say some mighty bad things, promoting their beliefs or church saying that I am wrong and they are right.  Why can't people just be happy that you believe in Jesus?  Why can't that just be enough?  I don't need any crusaders trying to get me to change.  I am 62 years of age and I am not going to change.  I like the way I am.  If you really knew me, really knew my life, you would be happy for me to be where I am today.
I haven't been to church in a while, mostly due to lack of attire and not feeling well, along with being in and out of the hospital.  One thing I have noticed, when you don't go, people tend to forget about you.  They don't talk to you anymore, send you Facebook messages or even give to cents on how your doing.  I guess it's out of sight, out of mind mentality.  Same goes for some of my "friends" that I have.  Honestly, I am moving on in my life and most likely will be moving on one day to where I belong.
Last but not least.  If you have something to say about me and aren't a big enough person to say it to me, then don't say anything at all.  This is a very small town and I know a tremendous amount of people, so when something is said, I hear eventually hear it and at times, it's just plain disappointing.  I am an open book.  You all have read it or heard it.  There is nothing that I hide from.  Doesn't matter what the past held.  I have put my life out there so maybe, just maybe, someone who is going through a rough stretch in their road might know the choices I made and repercussions that followed and help them make a better choice.  I am not looking for glorification, sympathy, pity or anything else, just like helping people, especially young people.  I didn't have anyone to direct me when I was young.  There was no one to help me out of trouble or counsel me.  I learned it the hard way and though I am damn proud of making it this far in life, there is a whole world of young people who need help.
Well, enough of my two cents.  Going to take my medications and try to feel better.  To those of you that contributed to my cause, I will not let you down.  I will win!  I always do, always have and always will.
May the good Lord shine his light on you.

Just arrived home today after spending three days at Chino Valley Hospital.  Monday, I was experiencing some chest pains and breathing difficulties.  At the request of my ex, I went to the urgent care in Chino Hills.  They immediately took me in and completed an EKG.  They told me that there were irregularities with EKG and called 911.  They asked me where I wanted to go and I said, "Pomona Valley Hospital."  They told me that Pomona Valley was saturated and I would be seen in a more expedient manner at Chino Valley.  Reluctantly, I agreed.  Although Chino Valley has stepped up their game over the years, it's still not close to being on the level of a larger hospital.  With that being said, I was admitted to Chino Valley where they check out my heart with a fine toothed comb and everything was fine.  They did not have any answers as to what was causing the pain, nor did they determine why I am having these breathing episodes.  Finally, this afternoon, a doctor came in and suggested that it was when I had broke my sternum many, many years ago, and that it was causing muscular spasms which leads to the pain and causing me to breath hard at times.  Now, I am by no means a doctor, and though I have experienced more broken bones, surgeries and other traumas, more than ten people put together would have experienced, I also know when smoke is being blown up my rear end.  I simply smiled, thanked her, and got out.  She did tell me however that nothing that I was experiencing would prohibit me from having a bone marrow transplant in the near future.  I will let my oncologist at UCLA tell me that I think.
Anyway, I back at the apartment and trying to catch up on my blog and other activities being as there was no WiFi at Chino Valley.  It is good to be home and am looking forward to working with a couple of horses in the morning, meeting a good friend for some mud late morning and start getting some things together for my trip to UCLA.  I was told by the nurse coordinator that I would most likely be going in within the next three to four weeks.  Need to go to the Social Security office in Ontario, always a real pleasure, right up there with the DMV or Medi-cal office, and get a new Social Security card being as I had mine in my day runner when it was stolen.  I shall never carry it with me again, lesson learned.
I would like to thank John, Darlene, Tandi and Debi for taking time out of their busy days to come visit me while I was in the hospital.  When you're down in a hospital bed there is nothing in the world as good as when friends or family come visit you.
Tonight I was reading a Facebook post from someone who is battling the same cancer that I have.  This led me to read some other post, kind of like going on YouTube and listening to musical artists.  Before you know it you started out listening to Waylon Jennings and somehow you finish up listening to Social Distortion.  As I read some of the comments I was amazed of how many people are really afraid of what they have.  Maybe I should be too, I don't know, but I am not.  Granted, I had a melt down a few weeks ago, where I felt as though I just didn't care anymore because this cancer had beat me down, but with the help of my fellow crusaders, I dusted myself off and got back in the saddle.  However, it wasn't because I was afraid.  Now, I am no tough guy anymore, those days are behind me, but I feel if you're afraid of your disease, whatever it is, you're letting it win.  You're letting the Devil beat you because fear and doubt are some of his best weapons.  I know this because I let him use them against me years ago.  In fact, years ago, I sold my soul to him but guess what, I stole it back.  I am no special when it come to courage or standing tall, just a old man who has walked to hell and back a couple of times in his life.  I am looking forward to finishing my memoirs so people out there that think they know me, but really don't, can appreciate where I have been and what I have done.  It's through this experiences, good and bad, wrong and right, that have brought me to the point in life where I am currently standing.  Not once have I blamed anyone, God, myself or anyone I know for having contracted this cancer.  Not once have I bitched about it.  Yes, I have moaned a time or two when the pain gets bad, but I always tough it out and most of the time I am not alone when I do.
During the summer of 2013, when I came home from a 9 week hospital/nursing home trip, my 21 year old daughter, Brittany, took ten weeks off of college to nurse me back to health.  I was down to 145 pounds, going through serious morphine withdrawals, and seriously near death.  She sacrificed graduating with her class so she could bring me back to life.  You had to had been there to understand just where I was at physically and how frail I was.  With her help, and the help of friends, I came back from a would be grave and am laying here tonight because of them.  I am not doing this alone, so please, don't think I am something special, for I am not.  What I am is this.  Resilient, stubborn, and ornery.  Don't tell me I can't do something.  If you do, expect it to be done.  Just like my first oncologist who told me I had six to eight months to live when first diagnosed I walked out of his office with defiance.  I like the challenge and I am going to relinquish the day when I walk out of UCLA with a clean bill of health, shake hands and hug all those who helped me get through it, have my farewell bull ride and smile at all those who were not supportive.  Yes, unfortunately there are those people, but it is those people that give me the greatest support. because it is those who wish ill, are jealous for whatever dumb reason, or wish to be judgmental that put fuel on my fire.  I will beat this!  If anyone can, it'll be me!  I have a lot left to do in this world.  I have beautiful children, a grand daughter that I hope to know, young people that need some help, and friend and family that want me around for a bit longer.  For the first time in my life I can really see my potential.  I wish it hadn't come down to dealing with cancer to wake me up, but the Lord has his ways of doing things.  If you ever have the chance to listen to a song that is so me, listen to "The Master's Call" by Marty Robbins.  As always, thanks to those who really have my back, who have stuck with me honestly, and who really are my friends.  You will never be forgotten.  That is my promise.  Goodnight all.

Good morning.  Just woke up but still feeling pretty bad, in fact, I feel like death warmed over.    I don't know what I caught but it's kicking my butt.  Just don't have an ounce of energy to even get out of bed, but I need to.  Need to go to the store and get a few things, cup of mud maybe, and come home and collapse.
My doctor called back and is worried my white blood cell count is going up again.  Honestly, I am fed up with this cancer and what it does.  Every time I just start to feel good it raises it's ugly head and tries to knock me down again, but it hasn't knocked me out because I still keep getting back up.  Tuesday I will hear from the stem cell coordinator to find out what is being done and how long it will be before I am admitted for the transplant.
I have just read that Katie Cunningham's sister, who has once beaten leukemia, has been diagnosed with it again.  Yes, it is financially draining in ways that people who don't have it, don't understand, so I encourage you to visit her donation site and help this beautiful young lady.  There seems to be so many people that are fighting various cancers and other illnesses these days.  Just my two cents, but I strongly feel the culprit is our food and water sources.
This past week has been one of ups and downs, but when my youngest daughter showed me her Silver Honor Roll Award, an award for bringing her grades up, and an award for civic service, all the negative was quickly washed away into the gutter where it belongs and my baby's achievements let the sun in.  I am so very proud of her.  If you knew what she has gone through the past year, these achievements have even greater meaning.  I love you Berlyn!
Not much going on this week so I am going to work diligently on my book and hopefully spend more time with my homeless friend.  There is a reason that we have crossed paths.  Don't know what that reason is but I am excited to find out where this relationship goes.
Hoping to do some serious horseback riding as well.  Nothing as soothing and relaxing as riding a horse.  They're such majestic creatures and when you're riding them your mind just relaxes.
Just like bull riding but without the danger.
May y'all have a great Sunday, be safe, and I will see you later.  Take care.

Well, after being up for 36 hours with no sleep I finally passed out and slept for 13 hours.  Won't be doing that again any time soon.  Just couldn't sleep that night, had a lot on my mind, and got caught up on computer stuff.....Today, I got off to a late start, but made it out to work with Cody.  He was a big pain in the butt today, broke the lead rope while I was trying to wipe some FlyOff on him, got into the enclosed field and ran around, bucking and snorting.  I enticed him over with an orange, put another lead rope on him and walked him over to his stall.  He got a good rub down, was able to clean his hooves and that about did me in.  There is another horse next to him and I curry combed him, brushed him down good and cleaned his hooves as well.  Then Debi, she owns the horses, and I went to the house next door and talked to the owner of another horse that needs a little work.  Got my hands full but my strength seems to weaken each day.  Now I am lying in bed with a sore throat, hot and runny nose, headache and feeling just plain lousy.  Called my oncologist and told her and she wants me into the clinic on Monday.  She said she would have them call me with a time.  I am looking for a ride into Westwood on Monday if anyone cares to make the drive with me.  Just going to put a movie in a try to feel better.\
I saw the homeless young man I met the other day at Starbucks.  He walked up and said, "Howdy."  I asked him to have a seat and we talked for a bit.  I was trying to upload some photos from my cell phone to my laptop but had no idea what I was doing.  He said, "If you don't mind me taking over your phone and laptop, I think I can do it."  So, I let him and sure enough he had cord with him that hooked my phone up to my laptop and he downloaded the photos.  I am hoping that somehow I can help this young man out, get his life back, and clean him up.  I suppose if the good Lord wishes for that to happen he will.
After working with the horses I went to visit a friend and had the opportunity and pleasure of meeting her for the first time as well as her husband and son.  Very nice folks.  She has been a follower of my journey and has had a little surgery of her own just recently.  It's always nice to put a face with a name and today I did just that.
I really feel bad right now and am going to make this short.  Thank y'all for reading, for caring, and for being with me as I go through this battle and especially the war that is about to erupt in a few weeks, meaning the bone marrow transplant.
Goodnight and may God bless you all.

This is now the twelfth blog of the night.  Today, I was shown some texts from people in the community that have taken it upon themselves to be mean, cowardly, and backstabbing.  These people will not be at my fire any more.  I thought about defending myself, opening up my life on a blog, but I don't think I will.  Yes, mistakes are made and I have made plenty, but like Jesus and the whore, who hasn't?  Some people have to go out of their way to be hurtful and spiteful.  Their lives are so miserable and lonely that they have to try and make themselves feel better because their either jealous, upset, or otherwise have nothing going on.  My friends, my true friends, know me.  The ones that are so easily persuaded because they have heard something and don't confront me before deciding whether they wish to know me, are not my friends and never will be.

Today, I had the pleasure of meeting a woman in the Albertson's parking lot who follows my journey and wrote a very nice response regarding our meeting.  I had the pleasure of talking to a homeless young man only to be called by someone who knows him very well and after telling this person about my day said, don't worry about those people.  Katie, always a support and also gave me good words about her experience when she went in for her bone marrow transplant.  She said some people were mean and cruel but to stay focused on what is coming up.  I have enough on my plate without having to deal with a bunch of people that wish to say and spread hateful words.  However, there are so many of you that have stuck with me, know me, and for you, I am eternally grateful.

There are two sides to every fence.  Make sure you look at the ground on both sides before you decide to jump off.  Usually, one side is green and the other one is full of dung.  This will be my last blog regarding this subject.  I apologize for this one being so negative but I am not one to let people walk on me.   From now on, it will be about my journey.  Time to move on!

Sitting here at Starbucks enjoying a cup of mud and watching people come in and out.  A young man just walked by me, obviously homeless for he appears to have not had a bath or shave in quite some time.  His clothes are dirty and ragged.  As he walked by, we looked at one another and I said, "How ya doin"?  He said, "good."  How can he be good?  How does someone this age get into this position?  I understand there are addictions, drugs, booze, whatever, but I am interested in his story.  I don't know how I can help but I am going to find out.  Maybe I can take him over to Subway and have lunch with him.  I wish I had my own place for I would take him there and let him clean up a bit, feel better about himself.  Unfortunately, most people look at homeless folks and classify them as drug addicts or alcoholics, not really knowing their story.  I watched a clip on Facebook once where a young man went up to a homeless man, gave him a hundred dollar bill just to see what he would do with it.  He was sure the guy would go directly to a liquor store and buy a bottle.  Instead, he went and bought food and brought it back for his fellow homeless friends who were sitting in the park.  The young man was so taken back by this gesture that he went to him and gave him another hundred dollars.  He took the time to talk to the man and get his story.  The man was homeless, not due to addictions, but rather lack of employment.  He had lost his home, cars, marriage, everything.  Boy, can I relate to that.  He said it was just a matter of life's circumstances not put him where he is.
The young man just walked by me on his way out and I invited him over to my table.  He sat down and we introduced each other.  I shook his hand, he looked me in the eye with a firm handshake and I asked him his story.  As I was listening I couldn't help notice his gaunt face, bad teeth, unshaven, dirty face, but it didn't matter.  He reminded me of one of my sons who at one time went through five years of drug addiction, homelessness and living at the bottom.  I relayed the story of how my son finally turned the corner and is working hard, has a great girl, is responsible and left that life behind.  Being homeless may be an unfortunate circumstance as I am only a room away from being there, but to live your life on drugs or alcohol is a choice.  You really know what another person is going through.  You don't know there whole story, but yet there are people that feel the need to put their nose in someone else's business when it shouldn't be, say things about someone that aren't true or overly exaggerated.  This happened to me just two nights ago.  I don't know this young mans entire story but I do know that he is a fellow human being and regardless or his mistakes, misfortunes, wrong choices, whatever, it is not my job to judge.  As the bible says, if you can't forgive your fellow man, I will not forgive you.  This young man is a brother of mine and though I can't fix his life I sure the hell can help him out.  I asked him if he had any money on him.  Of course the answer was no.  I reached into my wallet and helped him out a bit.  I asked him if I could buy him a cup of mud and a bite to eat.  He accepted my offer.  We talked a bit more and than it was time to go separate directions.  I just could't help but see my sons years ago as I looked into this young mans face.  I suppose I will always have a soft spot for these young people.  When I get out of the hospital and get on my feet, I think I would like to work with these homeless kids.  Not sure what organizations are out there but I will find something local.  This just isn't right, not in this country.  Homeless vets, people that are victims of a failing economy, just isn't right.
Another observation this morning is how much people are in such a hurry.  Almost running into Starbucks to get there cup of whatever and hurrying back to their cars only to hurriedly drive away never seeing anything that is going on around them.  I just want to say slow down, look around, enjoy that fact that you are alive today, God is giving you time.  I suppose that is one of main reasons I love Wyoming, no one is in a hurry.  The country is beautiful, people are friendly and no one is in a rush to do anything.  One day
  Enjoy your day to the fullest.  Live life hard and I don't mean that literally.  Live it to it's fullest because time for all of us is running out, you just don't know when.  Catch ya'll next time.