The Man Behind The Curtain

With no plans to self-destruct, the air is slowing being let out of the bag. Where is the drama if death is not on the table? To be on the table or not on the table? Better than the slab, I say.

“What is on the table” has been on my mind lately. Today I see the radiologist oncologist, and get a PET/CT scan, which hopefully will reveal all. Or at the very least, reveal more. Or if we are really being positive, Nothing.

Will the answer to what is on the table come down to The Man Behind The Curtain? Like the all seeing great and wonderful Oz.

The Wizard as illustrated by William Wallace Denslow (1900)

Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs ^aka known as the "Wizard of Oz" and, during his reign, as "Oz the Great and Terrible" or the "Great and Powerful Oz".

Today, I venture further into the heart of Cancer World. Or am I really just Professor Marvel , the mysterious traveling fortune teller who Dorothy meets in Kansas with a horse named Sylvester. “An old Kansas man myself, born and bred in the heart of the Western Wilderness". But look closer. The balloon says "Omaha State Fair" on it and Omaha is in Nebraska, not Kansas.

Who are we to believe? Even “what” are we to believe? Who is the Man Behind The Curtain? Is it the doctor or is it me? What do we know in our bones, and what is revelation?

I am recalling something here about what lurks in the hearts of mice and men, but concentrate as the cancer is in my throat.

I wrote a poem once when I was 21 or so, addressed to no one, but containing shards for my Father.

“My voice it chokes

The lodger in my throat

My throat, it hides

The enemy inside.”

Or was it the animal inside? I forget. Now it gets fuzzy as I can’t remember exactly the rest of the words. Something about “I am not a bank.” Presumably I was upset that the old man was not willing to subsidize his fifth son’s adventures in punk rock. Nor do I blame him today. God bless my Mother, who surreptitiously sent me cheques each month for a while.

I picked up a book at the library called Chris Beats Cancer. Chris presents his case for alternative therapies rather than going with the mainstream medicine of Cancer Inc.

Many of my friends present me with options for my consideration, such as better vitamins, minerals, mushrooms, juicing, veganism, probiotics and even sobriety.

Why not? It is no secret that what we eat, drink and breathe is chock full of toxins that are magically delicious. These same toxins either cause cancer, or help create conditions where cancers thrive.

My throat is increasingly sore, swollen and irritated. I am becoming more sensitive to just about everything. I am starting to make choices that better people have advised me consider years ago. Apparently I am only now learning that alcohol does not make me feel better.

So it was very strange yesterday, when I received a call at work from MADD, Mothers Against Drunk Driving. The woman on the line sounded a bit stiff, but when I paused for what seemed like only a few seconds, she continued with words that indicated they were listening to me. But there was something one sided about the conversation. Quickly, it was revealed that the woman calling me was not a woman at all, but a recording of a live person. The Woman Behind the Curtain. I hung up at some point, and said to Tia, who sits at the front desk, that I should have told her about Dads Against Artificial Intelligence. Signs of intelligence is harder to find in this modern world.

But the Bot had a point. Booze rarely helps, and often causes great harm when we are caught up in the cocktail of collateral damage.

I have stopped drinking before. Many times before. Is it so wrong that I enjoy a glass or two of wine, a cold beer on a hot day, an evening in, sipping a single malt, and all the fun of inventing cocktail variations- where can I get a proper Mai Tai? Why just the other night I was making Smoked Old Fashioneds with my new cloche and hand held smoking gun.

Since I am an adult, and not required by law to drink, I am deciding to stop for awhile. If something that was pleasurable becomes unpleasant, why continue?

Diet is another area for improvement. I eat better than most. I make conscious decisions. But I am also a creature of habit. I have been known to emotionally eat. Have donut will travel.

My willpower has wilt power. Watch me as I casually watch commercial tv for an evening. Witness the myriad of crap foods that they are literally shoving down my throat. From crappy burgers that rarely resemble the images on the screen, to pizza pizza pizza.

If they can melt the cheese, the least we can do is eat it, right? Once again, in my current compromised state of health, I am feeling the ill effects of all bad diet choices, pretty much immediately. My stomach feels like it is being fed poison drippings.

You can see why people lose weight on the cancer diet, because nothing tastes right. Nothing makes you feel good. And I’ve barely begun this adventure. Oh well, today we are off to see the Wizard. Or radiologist. Same thing. The Man Behind The Curtain.