Good news, three weeks ahead

I am going to Dallas in a few weeks for a very much needed visit with my daughter and her family. I haven't seen my grandsons since Orlando, and with my condition compressing time, it has been much too long since I hugged them. I need to put my mind in the right place and leave it there. The best medicine for me is to continue to be a part of their lives. I can take any amount of pressure and anxiety, whether it be ALS or our financial chaos or a cloudy future or a mouse loose in our house (true), provided I can witness my grand boys cheer me up by acting like a couple of knuckleheads.

Let me break stride with the moment to explain my last post. It must be made clear that my mind is whole. I retain my senses. I don't come close to expressing the myriad thoughts coursing through my brain. I  must continuously sort and chose those thoughts that make for logical conversation, written or spoken. Put yourselves in my shoes. Follow my path and try imagining all the internal outbursts, censoring them for expression and hoping you're not too depressing or sarcastic, too hopeful or optimistic (yes I can be too optimistic; falling down from too high can be problematic), too analytical or sad or happy or mad, too cheerful or glad (rhyming with no reason, I know, but I can occasionally be too silly). I can't hold resolve for more than short bursts. I will continue to wallow in a sea of guesses until I crack the code or not.

I am going to begin researching outside the realm of practical solutions because there are, simply, no practical solutions. I can't afford to drive this car until it quits, I need it serviced so it lasts longer. If I had a bad heart, I could replace it. Bad kidneys? I have two, if they both go bad, I sign up for a transplant. Bad liver? Bad hip? But I have a neurological problem and nobody does brain transplants. So, I am planning to get out of Dodge and grab at elusive, obscure and less researched possibilities. One such possibility is a complicated procedure concocted by Edgar Cacye. I can build my own wet cell and my cost is small. I am aware that many of you are now Googling him, and if you read for ten minutes you'll know more about him than I, but that's OK. I will know more than you by tomorrow morning unless you view this as a competition and are planning to also stay up all night. The bottom line here is that I have found documentation showing some success. I'm tired of trying to think ALS out of me. At least, with Cayce's treatment I will be changing my diet, eating gold, electrocuting myself, etc. (well, not exactly, but close). I will be taking action, and if that doesn't work, I'll find another action to take. In addition to all this I am ordering herbs from China, increasing my acupuncture sessions and am enlisting Amy for massage in order to simulate Traditional Chinese Medicine. If I'm going to get picked and poked at, I want to have a say in how and who. If nothing ever works, I will at least know that on October 23, 2011 I decided to become proactive with my  own health. If  you shudder at the possibility of success in the world of mysticism, clairvoyance, Eastern culture, electricity, spiritualism, needles and herbs, consider that if I don't try this stuff, I have already exhausted the meager offerings of my doctors. They are very kind and sympathetic, but as I already know, kindness and sympathy don't cure ALS.

I look at it as an adventure.