so sorry to hear about your cat

Conversation with my bro:

Today I had a PET scan.

A what?

Well, its kind of like a CAT scan.

Oh. So sorry to hear that.

What did the Vet say?


You know you’re feeling better when you care that there are beans down your shirt.

let the whole bean, breath sounds and gravy thing fade away into the ethers. But that was not to be

In the hospital for several days with chemo complications, lying in bed, safe from the germs that I had no defense for. I do recall combing my hair hours earlier when my face showed up in the mirror. A shower, however, hadn’t yet occurred to me.

“I need to check your breath sounds,” retrieving me from some faraway place of REM, was Lindsey, my nurse. “What’s this?” Lindsey seemed to be having a problem.

From my view I could see exactly the problem. It was leftovers from last night’s dinner. Reaching inside my shirt, I recovered a 4 inch long, gravy stained, green bean. “Would you mind throwing this away?” I asked Lindsey.

“Of course,” she said, like it was an everyday occurrence for patients to be stuffing their shirts with green beans. Another bag of I.V. antibiotics swinging above my head and I was already asleep.

I didn’t really care, until the next morning when all those foggy days solidified into clear memory. It would have been so much more comforting to hold onto a grit of dignity and call it a dream. Let the whole bean, breath sounds and gravy thing fade away into the ethers. But that was not to be.

I had hard, cold evidence just inches from my face. The lingering gravy was not to be ignored. I pushed the nurse button. “May I help you?” It was Lindsey.

Speaking into the little light on the TV channel changer, “I need to take a shower.”

Maybe I am feeling better.

A Story of Thanks

giving me a chance to see life

Stan Benally, a man whose torch burns brightly from within. To know him is to be blessed by his joy, love and compassion. His story of thanks:

Since birth I’ve been in many homes… I’ve been disown… Been homeless… Been abandon… Been told things I don’t wanna repeat… I’ve been left at boarding school for months on end before someone would come and check on me… Gone with out eating for days until I was so hungry I would eat out of the trash… Had clothes with holes and not washed for weeks…  Got so use to living life like this for the beginning of life for me… I for sure though there was no change for me…

Stan Benally, a man whose torch burns brightly from within.

Yes!!! I have stolen… I have broken into homes… I have robbed… Just to eat and bring food home… But that was the normal life I was use to… Seen so much domestic violence… Witness legs and arms being broken… Watched helplessly as people I love being hurt… Or even hung by their neck… Things I still awake too in fear…    Through this dysfunctional life and all the hardships… Just living life on a day to day life… All I had was my brother and sister… My grandma was my hero…

Then one day I was picked up by the police and was told I was gonna be put in a home where I can go to school and be watched over… Basically a home with parents… After being in so many different places to live even juvenile hall and group homes… These homes actually had dinner as a family with prayer over the food… They even studied the scriptures at 6am in the morning… This home was so different… Couldn’t believe there was a home with family that loved one another… Then I’ve live in two other homes with good teachings as well…

Thank You 🙏🏽Kalauli family, Lusk family, Teare family for showing me love… Showing me something you only see on tv… Thank you for feeding me… Thank you for washing my clothes… Thank you for never judging me… Thank you for loving me… Thank you for teaching and helping me understand the gospel…

Thank you for giving me a chance to see life… Thank you for taking me as is…
🙏🏽Thank You 🙏🏽

{With his permission copied from his facebook post, Nov. 25, 2020.]

Intense if Care

IMG_20200113_122549_6My failure to return calls and texts has not been with ill intent,  as 45 minutes before the turn of the new decade, I joined the club of grief and regret by drowning my beloved HTC in the toilet.
Our faithful companionship of 7 years has come to an end.  I remain forever grateful for devoting all of her power to many rewarding hours of conversation.
Attempts to revive, have so far been unsuccessful. She rests comfortably on a bed of rice in her dehydration chamber, surrounded by her only devoted friend and caretaker, who is sad to report, as of yet, there has been no life signs.
Sadly, it appears a sim-card transplant is the only option. A suitable donor, has been researched and a Galaxy A50 has been found to be acceptable candidate.
Talk to you soon.

Bringing Back the Past

It’s the closest thing to a time machine.

Drumming and telling my favorite stories of Anasazi Valley at the Seasons Healthcare and Rehab Center. I said to them: “Come on into the little house, drum with me and I’ll sing you some songs, tell you about my friends, my embarrassing times and how they taught me to take down the walls that isolated me from the joy of living.”
Bringing back the good ole’ days through storytelling.  It’s the closest thing to a time machine.
AC Nov14.2019
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