THE DEPTHS OF HELL

 

Of course I don't believe in a real hell. Gehenna, the Valley of Hinnom outside of Jerusalem, where pagan practices abounded along with the worship of the false God Moloch - rather than that of Jehovah.

Hell is merely a metaphor for the wages of sin.

I'm not as dumb as I look, boys and girls. I always maintained that hell is here on earth - - the absolute CRAP we go through during this journey of life. That's punishment enough....we don't need an afterlife hellfire.

First of all I want to give a heartfelt thanks to the three people who kindly acknowledged my rerun of "The Ghost of Sharon Tate". You have equisite taste. And I've had one helluva life. More old reruns are being excavated especially for you.

Today I'm torturing you with an unecessary update. Seems to be the popular blog genre.

I'm in a very ROTTEN mood, which always inspires me to abandon my intoxicating sweetness and undeniable charm. When I'm in a dismal mood, I can be......

.....cold blooded, condescending, rude, insulting, depressing, nasty, curt, despicable, and brutally honest.

Prepare.

Now, why should I completely abandon my blog when I'm such a mesmerizing writer?

First of all, let's acknowledge the fact that my AI images are damn good. Or.....almost tolerable. Maybe.

I learned at an early age, modesty will get you nowhere.

Ready....set.....GO!!!!

So Tuesday, I was taken on the looong hour journey to Cookeville. A surprisingly cool day with rain. I got autumn vibes.

Thought I was going to get surgery on my arm (see previous posts). Imagine my SHOCK when I was brought to the dermatologist's office. Again!

Instead of getting desperately-needed surgery, I wasted the whole goddamn day having a cute tete-a-tete with doctor what's-her-name.

BUT

she admitted that the dermatological surgeon wasn't equipped to work on my arm. He only does surgery in his office.

I am going to be referred to a cosmetic surgeon who has all the needed surgical apparatus. I could get radiation ( which I'd prefer) but it would be grueling going back and forth from Jamestown to Cookeville.

Another looooong wait, which might take ten more years. They're stalling forever.

While they stall, the squamous cell carcinoma on my arm bleeds continuously. Truth to tell, I am extremely worried. And I mean extremely......

Another horror story for you to ponder.

Happened very late Wednesday night, early Thursday morning. My heavily bandaged arm started seeping blood again. I called the night nurse.

To my absolute ALARM, she was the incompetent nurse who knows nothing. She tried to reinforce the upper part of the bandage. Kept asking me "Do you think this is right?"   "Does it look okay?"   "Are these the correct pads?"

Finally she finished 

Ten minutes later.....and I am not exaggerating....

a hemorrhage happened. Blood was pouring out of the upper and lower bandages. I COULD NOT stop it. I desperately kept pressing the call button. I grabbed some nearby towels and folded sheets.

I swear to God I was absolutely terrified. I am usually calm and rational. I was completely terrified....positive I was bleeding to death.

Absolutely out of character

I YELLED and SCREAMED over and over. Nobody came.

The morning nurse appeared around 7:00 a.m.   I was on the verge of passing out.

An hour later I bearly managed to get through breakfast, still shaken.

Two hours later I was given the bad news - - - -

After being blissfully alone, I'm getting a roommate!!!

The staff was telling me about the roommate.....and I BLEW UP!

"I don't give a crap about a roommate!" I shouted. " I need a surgeon!!!!".

My exact words.

So.....he's over 90, at least.

I tried to calm down and be civil. Not an easy task.

To be continued. Maybe.

Jon 🖤 in the realms of Hades

P.S.

To Rita, I got your card and it gave me smiles. Many thanks for thinking of me.

To Lisa, I TRULY apologize for being rude. You were trying to help. The front office staff here are annoying and hard to deal with.

To the rest of you....thanks for continuing to tolerate me.

I'm worth the effort.