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Thursday, August 25, 2016

Your Dying Spouse 199 - Phoenix Rising {FMF}

Once again it is time for Five Minute Friday, the keyword-driven weekly timed writing challenge hosted by Kate Motaung.

The work this week is...well, I don't know what it is. It has been the worst of weeks, and I am writing ahead of time because I can. Yesterday I lost a quart or more of blood, and I did not know who Barbara was when she came home. I was giving the dogs pizza and beer for dinner. (So those to whose comments I did not reply, please forgive. At least you didn't get a rugby dinner. Well, almost. Barb grabbed the beer.)

So, it's bad. prospects are bad. Outlook is grimmer than before. Today I went down outside, and the girls, Syl and Ladron, pulled me in. Blood trails and drag marks. I could not even crawl.

But I still have a dream, and I am going to share it with you.

It's called Tokyo. 2020. The decathalon.

When you stop laughing, yeah, I'm way too old, and way too sick, and I can't hardly even walk. This is stupid, right? Like, delusional.

I mean, I'm incontinent. Want to know how many loads of laundry I've done today? No, you don't.

But I have faith.

And I am willing to hurt more and bleed more and sleep less than anyone else. God's got to count that for something.

Blame it on the dude who won in Rio. Before the 1500m, he said that he'd push hard enough to put himself in the hospital.

I'll see that, and raise it. I'll push hard enough to put myself in the grave.

Why? Well, why not?

Do I need a miracle? Sure. I need to be able to walk, and to stop the disease, and to make all those malignant cells act normal.

But in the meantime I still have strong arms. I can exercise those until I pass out.

And when I wake up I will keep going until I pass out again and I will wait for my miracle.

If you're going to dream, dream big. If you're going to die, die hard.

Better to die on the road to Tokyo than in some hospital.

Call it hopeless, yeah. But I have hope, and that's all I need to make it to tomorrow.

The phoenix is going to rise from my ashes. I'm going to roll the stone away.

And this...when I get there, I will be sporting my one and only tattoo, on my right bicep.


I am sore wounded but am not slain;
I will lay me down to bleed awhile,
and then rise to fight with you again.

Marley update...he's received a lot of support, but STILL NEEDS HELP TO BE SAVED.


He's up to nearly 200,000 signatures, but the local authorities are dragging their feet. They think that we'll give up and go away. We won't.

If you have a mment, I'd like to ask you to visit Change.org to consider a petition to free a 'death row dog' who has been separated from his family for ten months over a misunderstanding. Marley was saved from Afghanistan by a US serviceman; please help make sure this story doesn't end in needless tragedy! Marley's gotten a lot of support...but he still needs our help.

If you can, please do leave a comment. I am trying to answer all, and I am failing, but please know this - I read and treasure each one.

Below are my recent releases on Kindle -please excuse their presence in the body of the blog. I haven't the energy to get them up as 'buttons' in the sidebar. You can click on the covers to go to the Amazon links.


  1. If anyone can do it, you can.
    Glad B got the beer - no one needs a bunch of drunk dogs!

  2. Call it hopeless, yeah. But I have hope, and that's all I need to make it to tomorrow.

    "My soul, put your hope in God!" I don't know what psalm that's from but I think 42. God will carry you through and that is not hopeless at all. ☺️ Visiting from fmf.