The Grapefruit Tree and Other Disassociated Diaspora of the Mind
I am lucky to have published this piece, it was lost it for a while(old age).
I had written it in Word and then copied and pasted it to my blog. I was unable to publish it because I had used all my free "Shoutouts" in my blog in December so I sent it via regular Email, I thought!I remembered it amazingly and went to find it but couldn't locate it. It wasn't in "unpublished posts" or saved in "poems" nor Greg's Stuff folder.
I called my daughter and asked her to send it back to me but she didn't recall getting it so I was perplexed. I vaguely remembered renaming it but couldn't remember the new name. It wasn't on my desktop so I painstakingly looked through "Documents" and eventually found it
I wrote a brief contemporary poem the other day and called it “The Old Man”. As usual I'm never satisfied with any of my attempts at prose but the attempts occupy my time. I have revisited this piece and started playing with it. This is the third rendition of this same piece of prose.
My conscious opens like a Morning Glory Flower, its lilac tinged smile welcoming and embracing the sunrise.
My eyes flutter and I perceive my sight slowly, auspiciously, but I am orphaned of intellect.
In this sedated stupor I ponder; who am I? Where am I? Sort of like awakening from anesthesia or is it anesthetic or analgesic or possibly anesthetized? I will eventually find the correct word.
Sounds intrude, pecking at the edge of my periphery. The tic and whorl of an unbalanced ceiling fan, the rhythmic metronome of my heart echoing in my pillow.
Every morning I gaze upon the same grapefruit tree with its rosy cheeked fruit clustered snugly around its trunk as if frightened or afraid.
It’s odd in that it reminds me of a peanut bush with its upper abundance of verdant green foliage but it legumes lie buried in the earth below.
There ought to be a decent poem here but this large yellow Hibiscus flower blatantly mocks my mood. How dare it be so beautiful in the midst of winter!
Thomas G. Moore
December 24, 2016
My daughter sent me a quote the other day that I really liked and will share. At this moment it is about 1:00 AM and I'm having an episode of tachycardia, My heart usually beats between 40 and 50 bpm but it's racing at present and has been since about 10:30 PM. I am tired and my chest hurts a little. I tried going to bed but couldn't fall asleep so I got up and came in here to write until my heart decides to return to normal.
Fate whispered to the warrior
You cannot survive the storm
The warrior whispered back
But I am the storm!
I would think this would disturb some of you(my heart racing) but I have lived with it so long that I'm not really concerned. Some of these episodes have lasted 7 or 8 hours. I could go to the ER and they will see you right away being it concerns the heart. I have done that several times and all they do is start an IV and begin giving you large amounts of "metoprolol" until the episode decides to stop. I just tried to get a pulse but it's going too fast. It used to be A-FIB where my heart fluttered and I was in danger of getting a blood clot and having a stroke but several heart umblations have turned it into this tachycardia thing.
Am I afraid? No I am not! just irritated! Actually I feel pretty blessed in that I have this and will not live an exorbitantly long life. As of late I have been struggling with short term memory loss. I discussed this with my doctor and he put me on donepezil which is an alzheimer's medication. I am more aggravated with my decline into senility than I am about my heart.
Yesterday I went to the grocery store to buy a few things and I had my detailed list with me lest I forget something. I was going to make bowtie pasta with a marsala sauce. My recipe called for a chicken breast but I decided to use some pork stew I already had. I was at the 15 item register when I remembered I needed a chicken breast so I put my stuff back in the cart and headed for the meat section. Halfway there I remembered I had the pork at home so I went back to the register but then remembered I needed a cantaloupe so I load my cart back up and head for produce. I get there and can't remember what I went there for. I then start back when I remember I need martini olives for my nightcaps so I head there. I get there and can't remember why I need olives so I buy some sliced black ones. I get to the check out again and remember the cantaloupe again but am so mad at myself I say a curse word and go ahead and check out. When I get home I remember I needed the large green olives and still no cantaloupe. Just think! I had a list and couldn't accomplish the task properly.
The majority of my dreams now concern me being lost and can't find my way home(terrifying). When I do wake I have to recite who I am and where I am and who I'm married to. I remember my mother when she no longer remembered me as her son. I became" That nice man from Texas" I am just 68 years old and my wife lovingly chides me for not locking the doors or leaving the windows open or leaving the stove on. I cringe at thinking I am just going to decline into a state of euphoric bliss with that benign smile on my face not knowing any of my love ones. Hopefully I will die with this heart thing before I reach that stage.
I realized my memory loss this past summer when I became aware I could no longer do the memory work that is required in Masonry(A F & A M). I was getting confused when one piece of rote would just fall into another and I would just get lost so I quit trying. My short term memory loss seems to be getting worse by the day. My long term memory is fine and I can remember my childhood and teacher's names and so forth. Strange isn't it? It's almost 3:00AM and my heart's still racing, it's been about 3 and a half hours now. My wife and dogs are all sleeping soundly so I'll continue to write and edit until this episode quits or daylight comes. If I'm still tripping around 9:00 AM, I will call my cardiologist and get his advice and of course he will see me right away or send me to the ER.
I like the quote about the warrior. I was once such a warrior and I considered myself to be The Storm. I commented on daughter's post that I am now only an errant breath of wind.
My 68 years of age is not that old but this memory loss thing is rending my soul. I was going to ask my primary care physician for my End of Life Counseling that Obama Care requires and see if I could just go ahead and check out with dignity. Of course he would say no and then I'd get on some suicide watch list and they would come take my firearms away and put me in an institution. I am not a suicide type person and I will face, with courage, whatever comes my way. It just irks my soul to think of myself with dementia. The thought of wearing adult diapers and someone wiping my ass appalls me but of course I wouldn't care. I would be at home but my light wouldn't be on.
I am so sleepy but I know I can't lay down and sleep with my heart doing 100 mph. I guess I could go check it with my arm cusp blood pressure thingy but it would just say "error! error! This really, really sucks! This blog post is long enough so I'll just read and edit or do something else. It's now 4:00 AM and no change. I just thought if I edit it and press publish then none of you will know if I survived. OH Well! There are the obituaries.