My apologies

Well, woke up this morning and read a few posts from people that I have never met, Tandi and Laurie, both of whom I consider my friends even though we have yet to meet.  Both of them had some valid points and sharp comments.  Sometimes life just beats the crap out of you and you wonder why?  Was I really this bad of a person?  Did I really cause this much harm or hurt that many people?  Did I not do a good enough job as a father?  What?  What did I do?  I had a talk with the Lord last night as I laid in bed.  I can't kneel anymore because it just plain hurts to much, but I think he listens regardless of our physical position.  I asked, "What do you want from me?"  "Why are you picking me to be a whipping post?"  Keep in mind, I am not mad at him, just utterly confused.  Long story short, I finished and began watching a little television and on was the movie "Unforgiven."  Of course, a Clint Eastwood movie, but as I watched the movie I began to get that cowboy spirit back.  Although the movie script and my current life's battle has nothing is common it was just the rawness of his character that reminded me of myself.  A man who has always had a black cloud follow him or over him, never have had any kind of luck, and just a self made tough man.  I thought about the post I had put up and was going to take it down, hide it from everyone because I was now embarrassed but then I am not hiding anything so why start now.  This is who I am at the moment, that particular moment when I was laying by myself, with no one to talk to but my inner self.  Yes, I feel down for a moment.  I think I am allowed that courtesy but I am not a quitter and I am here to say that even the hardest of men, the toughest of the tough, when they are lonely and feel the walls of the world coming down around them, have their moments.  I did, but now I am over it.  It is a new day, the sun came up as it always does and I am blessed one more time to see it.
Monday I have an appointment with the oncology team at UCLA and I will be there.  We will get this damn thing done.  As Tandi said, "God has not taken me home yet" and there must be a heck of a good reason.  So, for those who are reading my journey, for those who may be looking up to this cowboy for some personal strength or hope, I am back on the bull.  I would like to thank you two women for your comments this morning, for the comments of all, the acts of love and friendship, the generosity of fellow human beings, total strangers just weeks ago are becoming life long friends.  So, as the Code of the West says, "Live each day with courage, always finish what you start and do what has to be done."  I am a cowboy and damn good one at that.  I may have got thrown off last night but I am back on today.  Hopefully the weather will hold up for tonight because I have never wanted to ride bulls more than I do right now.

Well, tonight is a night that has left me numb and lost.  It wasn't but just a few years ago I lived in a nice home with all the niceties, cars, furnishings, pool, a business, family, friends and a future.  Then one day, things began to unravel, the economy took it's nasty turn downhill.  We had just purchased our first home and three months later the housing market tanked.  I ended up having to close my business after going through my savings and retirement to try and keep the doors open, hoping that next month we would turn the corner, but the corner never came.  Soon the marriage began to crumble, we moved from our home of twenty years into a two bedroom apartment and tried to make a go, but it was just too much when I came down with cancer.  My wife at the time, a wonderful woman, had been dragged through the coals and her resentment was evident with each look or word towards me.  I filed for a divorce.  Soon after I told her and my daughters that we could no longer afford to live in the apartment and that they would have to move in with my wife's mother in Buena Park.  The tension was so thick you could see it, but the girls got moved, I moved out all the furniture in storage and left.  Yes, I left.  I took off for Minnesota to try and get away, find a little happiness, but all I found was misery.  The good thing about my time in Minnesota was that I applied for their medical system and in six weeks found all the doctors I needed, received all my medications, was approved for a bone marrow transplant and they found a donor.  My life could be saved.  They were ready to get the transplant going in six weeks, but I was feeling guilty for leaving and my daughters needed me.  The decision was simply stay and get healed or come back and give my youngest daughter the father and support that her four older brothers and sisters had.  I chose to come back to California.  Sometimes when your so miserable with someone that doesn't love you anymore, all the drama, strains of life, you just want to put your head in the sand and cover up.  I can make up any excuse I want, but what I did was inexcusable and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret my decision to leave for a couple of months.  Now I am back, homeless, living out of suitcase and battling this cancer.  Everyone has looked from the outside in, but no one has seen my life from the inside out.  Cancer has stripped me of my health.  It has taken me from a muscular 210 pound man down to as little as 145 pounds, unable to get myself out of bed or feed myself.  I have been able to rebuild myself somewhat, for I am now 170 pounds but the pain, and believe me, I have had pain in my life, is just taking over.  I don't bitch about it, don't cry about it, don't really talk about it.  I live with it and I believe now that it is a form of payback for the wrongs I have committed in my life.  I am not perfect, I am the worst sinner of all of you, but I turned my life around years back but just like a man who goes to prison, people just don't forget or forgive.
So many people have been following my plight, hoping and praying that I will overcome this disease and come out on top, but the truth is, I just don't care anymore.  Today I had my ass kicked and tonight I am setting the stage for I wish to not fight anymore.  Never in my life would I have ever believed or thought that I would be living out of suitcase, wondering when and where I was going to get my next meal or shower.  Fortunately tonight, two great friends have invited me into their lovely home to allow me sleep in a bed instead of my truck.  I don't mind the truck, been there, done that years and years ago.  I have slept in barns and horse stalls, even a cemetery one night to get out of the frozen wind, but it is nice to sleep in a bed.  I lay here an wonder how many people just take it for granted that they have one tonight.  I don't think many people think about it.  It's just a given just like the sun is going to come up in the morning.  I will say this, I take nothing for granted, nothing.
I am not feeling sorry for myself, but more coming to terms with myself and accepting what is about to come.  I cannot go through this bone marrow transplant without adult supervision when I get out of the hospital.  There is none and I will not ask anyone to do such a thing.  So, I have elected to severe ties with my doctors and any further treatments and let the cards lie where they lie.  I will live what days I have to the fullest, enjoy what time I have left and let God handle the rest.

Hello.  Short evening tonight.  Not feeling all that great and going to try and get some shut eye.  A good friend of mine came over tonight, one of my dearest buddies, and we talked a bit.  I told him that if I had to go through the transplant right now that I would not make it through.  Not being pessimistic but realistic.  I know my body better than anyone and right now it is weak and much too weak to go through a transplant procedure.  I told him that my mind is almost there and my heart is strong, but I needed a little bit more time to pull everything together.  He asked me if I thought about dying and what thoughts race through my head when there is a very real possibility that this all could not work out.  He asked me how I was spiritually as well.  My reply was simply this, I don't think much about dying because I don't believe the Lord will take me up now, not after all the fires I have walked through in my life.  It doesn't make sense.  My ability to fight through this great adversity that lays before me is simply a test.  There is something in store for me and I must walk through this fire to obtain it.  There are many people that are counting on me to pass this test.  My ability to succeed is going to give others a glimpse of hope and future in whatever difficulties they are going through.  I am a cowboy and that is a name that I do not take lightly and am very proud of and if any group of people ever had the resolve to fight through conflicts, re-read your history books because it was the cowboy who faced everything from desolation, harsh climates, hostile enemies, injuries, illness, and just about anything else you could throw at a man and damn if he didn't shove it back in it's face.  I can hardly get my breath right now and my body is riddled with pain but I will live tomorrow as if it is my last day and come Saturday night, yes, I am going bull riding.  Spiritually, I have been in better times with the Lord, I won't disagree, but my faith is strong, I know he is there for me and I know he loves me and wants the best for me, but I have to want him and honestly, lately, I have been trying to do things a little too much on my own and need to get back to basics and ask for some help.  I like a good fight, always have, but this fight I need a little back up because there are just too many of the other guys.
I was able to have my youngest daughter over tonight and we had a good evening together.  I cooked up some of Ted's spaghetti sauce and we feasted along with the folks who have been gracious enough to allow me into their home.
Well, that's it for this evening.  No matter how bleak it looks tonight, tomorrow is a new day, the sun will still come up and the moon will takes us home.  Make the most of the time in between.

Just a little update from buckaroo

Well, been out of the hospital since last Saturday and have been slowly regaining my strength, stamina, and aggressive attitude.  I will say this, every time I go into a hospital, I feel it takes more time off my life than putting time on.  This was my 69th hospital stay in 62 years, granted much of that was from rodeo, but still, each visit I seem to recuperate a little less each time and it takes so much more of me inside to want to fight, but a fighter I have been all my life and I suppose it's too late to turn back now.
I felt as though I was in good hands at UCLA and have a doctors appointment this Tuesday at 2:30 to discuss the plan of attack.  They are closely monitoring my white blood cell count to make sure that it continues to decrease to the point that they feel comfortable doing the transplant.  This is all fine and dandy with me for it gives me a little more time to get stronger.  I am looking for a lift into Westwood this coming Tuesday.  I would have to leave about 12 and coming home with traffic, probably wouldn't be back until 5.
I have been blessed to have been offered a spare room at a fellow cowboy's home to help me get back on my feet a little.  He, his wife and youngest daughter are just the nicest of folks and I hope one day I can do something in return for this kindest of favors.  Had I not been offered this room it was going to be living in my truck for a while.
Both my daughters came over the other day to visit which was so nice to see them.  My ex-wife, who I get along with very well, also came by to visit and has been extremely supportive for she doesn't wish to see the father of her daughters die.  It's funny but I hear more from people I have never meet than people I know.  I just find it interesting.  Maybe they all know I am just a tough old goat that will last forever and figure they will catch up with me down the road, I don't know.  It's all good though.  Like my Uncle Pudge told be when I was growing up, "If you have lived a good life and done well, you'll be able to count your "true" friends on one hand."  I always wondered about those words growing up but as I get older I know exactly was he was talking about.  We all know a lot of people, acquaintances, passersby, but those people who really have your back when all your chips are down, that will jump in that foxhole to cover you up, or be there when they say, are whom he was talking about.
Had a real rough night with digestive issues and am almost afraid to go to sleep tonight in fear I will repeat last night.  Darn chemo has some nasty side affects.  Well, tomorrow comes early and I am tired so I shall say goodnight.  Thank you all for your support, well wishes, prayers and conversations through this most challenging of times.  Got to get my strength up for Saturday night with my fellow bull riders for it's getting close to call for the gate on more time.  Nite all.

Cowboy Update:

My, what a rough day!  They strained my blood last night and reduced my white blood cell count from over 100,000 down to 48,000.  After they completed that I was started on intravenous chemo.  They gave me medicine for nausea which in turn has given me the worst headache I have ever had.  It woke me up about 5 this morning and stayed with me until about 4:30 this afternoon when my doctor increased my pain medication and that seemed to do the trick.  I am still very nauseous and just can't get myself to order any food today.  I will try to order some crackers and soup in a bit and hopefully hold that down.  My oncologist poked her head in today but I in so much pain we didn't really get to have a discussion.
Obviously, y'all noticed that I am not on Chino Hills Connections any more.  It is all good and thanks to the help of Denise Bar at CHC for setting up the blog page, and my dear friend Darlene Faber who set up the new group page.
Well, got to go, my nurse said it's bath time, this should be interesting.  Nothing like a hot bath, shave and a cup of mud to make a cowboy feel good again.  Catch y'all soon.

Cowboy Update:  Well, the rodeo has started and I am standing behind the chute getting ready to ride my bull.  As they say in rodeo, I drew the money bull, which means it is the biggest, rankest bull the stock contractor has, and if I can ride it, I have a great chance of winning.
     Last night I was transported to UCLA in a meat wagon.  The ride was like riding in a wagon being pulled by six horses, running like the wind and hitting every chuck hole in the road, but alas, we finally pulled in around 12:00 midnight.  Before I left Pomona Valley, I got out of my hospital attire and put on my Wrangles, boots, shirt, wild rag and hat.  When they wheeled me into UCLA you should have seen the looks.  Apparently, there are not many cowboys that come through here.  They got me to my room, a very nice single bed room, and the nurse got me undressed and back into hospital attire again.  They couldn't give me any pain medication because I was not in their system yet, so they gave me my regular medication and I soon passed out.  I woke up this morning at 12:00 and found myself looking at a doctor and two young nurses.  Not one of them looked over 25 and they told me that they need to take a bone sample.  I didn't really hear what they said and it wasn't until the asked me to lay on my side and bring my knees to my chest that I realized what was going on.  They were going to another bone marrow biopsy.  I told them I just had one done a few days ago and asked what happened to the results from that one?  They said they wanted to do their own.  I sat up in been and looked him in the eye and said I was done being poked and prodded like some cow in a chute.  He said if I didn't do this that my body would soon start shutting down and I would be very susceptible to big problems like a stoke, pneumonia and internal infections.  I looked at him and asked how old he was.  He said, "Younger than you."  Wrong answer!  I looked at him and said I have children older than you and if you're going to be working on me he had better answer my question.  I told him that I am a tough old cowboy, I like to ride bull and break horses, and I ain't one of these want to be jackasses y'all have running around down here and if you're going to work on me were going to get to know each other first.  I am not sure if he knew how to take me but he told me he was thirty-three.  I told him that he didn't look that old and I asked him if he was good at what he does.  He said, "Yes I am."  So, I stuck out my hand and told him that I am not as mean as I sound but that I have just gone through so much that I am a little punchy.  He went to grab my hand to shake it and he put his hand about half way into mine before he squeezed and I said, "Stop right there."  I told him I don't shake hands like that.  I grabbed his hand, got holt of it, squeezed and looked him in the eye and said, "That's how I shake hands."  He gave me a firm grip and smiled.  Once we both got on the same page and I felt comfortable he had one of his nurses prepare me for the biopsy.  The whole time he was in the background taking to me while his nurse did all the work.  I said, "I am going to call you Geronimo from now on."  He asked why and I told him that being as he wasn't doing the biopsy himself that he must be the chief sending his warriors out to do battle."  The two nurses started laughing and he said that this is how they learn.  They finally got done with the biopsy and honestly, it was the best one yet.
Now they are getting ready to take me down to surgery to put some mechanism in my body with a line going to my heart so they can start cleaning out my blood and work on getting the white blood cell count down.  Once they accomplish this they will start intravenous chemo on me.  They told me that it was going to be a week of hell and that my mouth would be covered in very painful sores and that the sore could go down as far as my stomach, but they would keep me sedated to take away the pain.  I was told I would lose my hair and I would be very sick.  All of this I already knew from my own research and from people I have spoken to that have experienced some of this.  "The anticipation of death is worse than death itself."  This reminds me of the Louis L'amour novels I read when a cowboy has fought off the Indians all day, surviving until nightfall, knowing that when the sun comes up, the Indians will come back to fight and what lies ahead of him could be the worst.  But, like a true cowboy, he reloads all his weapons and gets ready for the next fight, standing firm, not giving up and hoping he'll be held in once again if he can survive.
I haven't lost a fight since I was fourteen and I don't plan on losing this one.  I may be surrounded by a dozen Indians with only my six shooter and rifle, but I plan on walking out of this hell and moving on to that little ranch with the green rolling hills, a gentle creek running through, cattle grazing and a little log cabin home with a bright smile standing on the front porch to welcome me home.
If anyone can do this, it's me.  If anyone should have to go through this, it's better me than you.  Whatever your grind is in this life, don't turn your back on it, turn around, face it head on, beat it and move on.  Every storm runs out of rain and though I may be in a downpour right now, soon enough the sun will shine again.
Thank you y'all for the support and encouraging words.  Thank you for your prayers and know that I have enough left to throw some up for you too.
Well, it's time to get in the chute and ride this money bull into the ground!