You ever feel like you are stuck in a place, and can't get out of it? It can be a state of mind, or a physical place. I feel like that now. Physically, I guess I'm doing better. Cardiac Rehab is going along as it should be, I guess. Last Friday was the first time that they actually pushed me to keep my heart rate in that magical "target zone". Afterwards, I went to the restroom, changed into my business clothes, and went to work.

I'm trying to keep things normal, but it's all artificial to me. I still don't know my body anymore. It's like I'm outside looking at some man going through these motions. All the while, I'm thinking, "I could do that better.... faster.... stronger.... than him." Yet, it's no one else but me. I'm confronted with the reality that this stranger that I hardly know may be me for the rest of my life.

I should feel lucky, but I don't. I suppose I do feel lucky that my existence continues to be, that I literally go on. There's something to celebrate in that. The rest of my life remains the same: my home, my cats, Kent, work. Yet, it's as if this life belongs to someone else. This person who hurts every time I move, who has to be careful when he takes a walk as though he's an eighty year old man, is not me.

Today we went to Mashapaug Pond. Kent suggested that we go out to Rock Point, something that he wouldn't let me do until today. I wasn't sure about it either, but I did it. It took me forever, and I had to rest along the way, but I finished it. I thought to myself, "It's just like cardiac rehab.... one step ahead of the other." It was so nice to be outside again and actually going to a place that I love. It was both happy and sad for me.

I'm happy to be alive and able to do this again. I'm sad that I don't feel that I'm the same man that I used to be. Is this a case of male ego? I think it's more profound than that. It's my whole identity.

Our home is a colonial that has frames around the garage. Saturday I painted the frames again. It took me three hours, but I did it. Today, I could hardly move, and all through my chest, I felt like I had broken something. That's one reason I wanted to get out. I wanted to push ahead, as painful as it all is.

Onward....

After our Mashapaug hike, we went to Yankee Spirits up in Massachusetts. It's a very large liquor store that is open on Sunday. I treated myself to a bottle of 30 year old Pierre Ferrand Selection des Anges Cognac. It's one of the finer things in life that I afford myself from time to time. Life is to be enjoyed as much as possible. Don't you think?

It's a rough Monday morning today. I had a bad night with nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat, and feeling like I was going to have a panic attack.

And unlike most dreams where you don't remember them after you are awake, I remember everything of this dream; the end of the world; being a witness to a brutal murder and having to lay with the body and pretend to be dead so they wouldn't kill me also. That's what woke me up.

I threw the covers off and just started breathing deeply because I could feel a panic attack not far away. I was able to avert that and after twenty or so minutes while Kent was in the shower, I started feeling a bit better. I took a Motrin for my splitting headache, which seems to have helped. And then took my blood pressure reading: 149/103, heart rate 83 -- not so good.

I'm getting dressed not for cardiac rehab and hope that I won't be turned away because of the blood pressure reading. Afterward, I swing by my cardiologist's office to drop of the BP monitor that I wore this weekend. And then back home.

I'll work from home today as I can. At least the weather is nice in the mid 70's.

I am downloading from iTunes the COMPLETE String Quartets of Beethoven, ALL OF THEM. I figure I can spend a nice Fall afternoon out on my deck with a nice bottle of Chardonnay going through all of them. I wonder what this means? I know these works, yet, I find a necessity of going through them as a body of work. I think I'm trying to put it into context, kind of like my life... Does this make any sense?

It was a nice and restful weekend for us. We decided on the spur of the moment to take off Saturday morning and go to Cambridge, Massachusetts. We only stayed for one night, but it was nice to actually get away for a bit.

We stated at The Charles this time. We have a few places we like, but The Charles is right in the middle of Harvard Square with all it's excitement and so many people out collecting signatures for one cause or another.

We had dinner at Sandrine's Bistro in the middle of Harvard Square.

The next day, we had a leisurely breakfast at the hotel, and headed home. We were home by 2:00p.m. on Sunday and just rested the rest of the day. Sometimes, doing very little is just what the soul needs.

I've come to believe in life that everything is connected. Nothing is an island, entire of itself. Everything is connected.

In the last few weeks, I've been receiving these very annoying phone calls from the "Special Olympics." At least, that's the name that shows up on caller ID. Let me just say this. I have nothing what so ever against the Special Olympics. Nothing at all. And I know that they are calling me for money. But I just can't. Here's why...

I never forget anything, EVER. Here's a look at the past...

Dr. Tom Waddell, the former Olympian, who helped found the Gay Games, intended the Gay Games to be called the "Gay Olympics," but a lawsuit filed less than three weeks before 1982's inaugural Gay Olympics forced the name change.[2]

Event organizers were sued by the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and the United States Olympic Committee (USOC) under the U.S. Amateur Sports Act of 1978, which gave the USOC exclusive rights to the word Olympic in the United States. Defendants of the lawsuit contended that the law was capriciously applied and that if the Nebraska Rat Olympics and the Police Olympics did not face similar lawsuits, neither should the Gay Olympics.[3]

Some, like Jeff Sheehy, coauthor of San Francisco's domestic partner legislation and former president of the Harvey Milk Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Democratic Club, believed homophobia to be a motivation behind the lawsuit. They cite the authorized use of the word "Olympics" by the Special Olympics and other organizations as evidence of this homophobia.[3]

Others, like Daniel Bell, cite the IOC's long history of protecting the Olympics brand as evidence that the lawsuit against the "Gay Olympics" was not motivated by discrimination against gays. Since 1910 the IOC has taken action, including lawsuits and expulsion from the IOC, to stop other organizations from using the word "Olympics."[4]

A 2009 documentary film called "Claiming the Title: Gay Olympics on Trial" was created in the USA and has previewed at several film festivals. The subject was also included in a film by David Sector, called "Take the Flame! Gay Games: Grace Grit & Glory".

In the years since the lawsuit, the Olympics and the Gay Games have set aside their initial hostilities and worked cooperatively together, successfully lobbying to have HIV travel restrictions waived for the 1994 Gay Games in New York and the 1996 Summer Olympics in Atlanta. (Source)

You know that old cliché that talks about the ripple effect a stone has when thrown into water. This is one of those times. I haven't set aside my hostilities. Today, I hear about, in my area no less, the "K-9 Olympics" and the "Frog Olympics". No, I'm not kidding. Yet, I don't see the IOC complaining about those. Every time I see the signs advertising these events, it's like taking a bullet. And that includes Special Olympics.

Bigotry is simple. It just is. It really is just as simple as that. And you either endorse it, or you don't. Or, you lie to yourself by telling yourself that you are really quite enlightened and sophisticated by supporting one cause or another, at the expense of another cause; all because of bigotry. It's one of those absolutes in life, just like pregnancy. You either are, or you aren't.

I don't endorse bigotry, and if that means that I have to turn my back on some worthwhile cause to uphold principle, so be it!

I'm sorry Special Olympics that I can't give you the time of day, let alone answer your phone calls, but I didn't do this. You should contact the IOC and find out why they find it such a need to hold such bigotry in their hearts for gay Olympic athletes. For some reason, they hold police dogs to have more dignity and worth than gay athletes.

Until they change, I WON'T.

I haven't posted for the longest time because I've been in the funk. Today was a hard day for me.

You know, my life is very interesting right now. Interesting, in the sense that I never know from day to day what is really going to happen. In one sense, it's accelerating. In another sense, it's rather unsettling. I know, everyone can kind of claim that, but I don't live in a normal every day-to-day environment.

When I got out of the hospital, I told my doctor when he discharged me, "I'm glad the hard part is over", meaning, I'm glad all the pain medications, the opiates, awful pain, and hospitals, are over with. My doctor responded, "The hard part is yet to come." I always wondered what was ahead of me that was worse than what I went through in the hospital. I took photos of the scares and incisions days afterwards, as a point of possible interest and possible posting. But, I've decided they are just too gross to share with all of you, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

Anyway, what my doctor was talking about was the hard battle back to normal. And it's a long, hard, road. But, like any other things in life, it's a diversion into yet another realm of existence - to meet people that you would never meet. It's almost like it was meant to be.

Today was Pearl's graduation. You see, when you are finished with the Cardiac Rehab program, you graduate. I mean there's really a graduation party. They declare that she has indeed graduated from the program. They put a graduation cap on her, and we all sing Pomp and Circumstance. I know.... it all sounds very corny, but, to describe what it was like to be in the midst of these brave people was an experience I didn't see for myself. She also received a graduation certificate of accomplishment. That is the meaning of life, accomplishments that are dear to our hearts. What do we have in common with each other? That's easy. When each of us comes in the room, we lift our tops so the nurses can apply the sensors -- where all the battle scars are exposed. That's that we have in common! The incisions, the scares for the drainage tubes... ALL OF IT!

How to describe Pearl? She looks like and has the personality of Betty White, somewhat mischievous. I was quite enchanted by her. She has a spirit of life and a sparkle in her eye the says, "...anything is possible...". I liked her.

Today was probably the last I will see of her in this lifetime. She is around 70, but acts like she is all of 40. Today, I worked hard. I was walking fast on the treadmill, with the permission of the staff, and Pearl commented to me, from the next treadmill over, that I was "working like the dickins". Well, next to everyone else there, I guess I was. I was at a fast walk on the treadmill for all of 15 minutes, a herculean task for my companions in the room with me.

After the workout, we had the graduation party. Pearl brought in some cookies and muffins that she baked. She told me, "Bill, you have to have a muffin." I did. And then I said out loud, "OH MY GOD! THE AWESOME TASTE OF ... BUTTER!"

The nurses turned to her and said, "Pearl, you didn't?!?!!" She hesitated, as it if were a joke between us. And finally said, "No, these are ok." The nurse, being nurses, had to confirm with her that they were indeed "heart healthy." Oh God, such anal-ism. Is that a word?

More to the "hard part" of getting my life back. I'm home last night. Kent came home. We are getting out of our professional clothes and into something more comfortable. And out or nowhere I put my hand over my face and was simply overcome with sorrow, followed by tears. Kent put his arm around me and I said, "I feel so worthless."

Then I knew what the doctor was talking about. This is a mental game.

I'm sorry I haven't posted much, but I'm rather messed up right now. It is ok to say that now that we have a Democratic President? I'm trying so hard. I used to talk to such powerful people, but today, my powerful person was Pearl, a lady with a heart of gold who I would be proud to call my Grand Mother. I will miss her so very much.