Friday, March 30, 2007

This is who you are

This is who you are;

A timeless beauty.

A sweet and tender soul is how I know you.

A wisdom of the ages;

Feelings revealed only by you.

Eyes of a depth known only with you.

Love that envelopes,

Joy that swept me in a rushing tide

To heights unimagined,

As you unwrapped the gift of my heart.

I am yours,


Never Have I Fallen

Your lips speak soft sweetness
Your touch a cool caress
I am lost in your magic
My heart beats within your chest

I think of you each morning
And dream of you each night
I think of your arms being around me
And cannot express my delight

Never have I fallen
But I am quickly on my way
You hold a heart in your hands
That has never before been given away

- Rex A. Williams -

Thursday, March 29, 2007

A Failure of Courage

When I married a second time, it was with reluctance. I didn’t really want to follow my first marriage with another so quickly. In the first, I was married from 1972 to the divorce in 1981. I met my second wife in 1979 and we moved in together shortly thereafter. Although I proposed marriage in late 1980, I was not yet even divorced. Our wedding date was to be in 1981 and we even sent out invitations. These all had to be called back when I averred, saying I wanted more time than just six months from the divorce decree to new wedding vows. I caused much embarrassment and expense for this family though they stuck by us during this upheaval. We finally married in 1982.

This was a way stop on the path that led to my suffering diabetes and prostate cancer. After two years of study and reflection, I have determined the sources of these two maladies as something else rather than any environmental or genetic issues.

I am of the belief now that disease is easily explainable in terms of one’s internal emotional state rather than pointing elsewhere. As startling as this seems—that it’s our fault and responsibility that we get sick—an open examination of our emotions and our body parts, their functions and any detrimental actions on their part clearly shows just how much we control our destiny and health by how we feel about ourselves.

In my case, and I think in the case of anyone suffering from anything but, say, the effects of an accident, it is a failure of courage that put me squarely where I am today—laboring under the “double deadlies,” diabetes and prostate cancer. In sharing what I believe I failed to do, what I felt about myself and others, I may do more than just tell my story, I may strike a chord in somebody else.

If my thoughts run true, then it is a failure of courage that purposely got me sick. Since I failed to raise my courage, described as “grace under pressure,” while facing my life circumstances, then what I propose is that I actually got sick on purpose. I deigned it, desired it, designed it and felt deserving of it even though I denied having any logical reason for catastrophic illnesses to envelope me. If I’m right about how all this happened to me, maybe my example serves others.

I used to think that helping just one person to get better was ridiculous. Why put so much effort into an enterprise if not to serve many? Now I understand that in the grand scheme of things, just the intent to help someone else is really enough to reap great rewards. The universe sees the intent as a positive energy release and much comes back to the sender. More about that some other time but for now, I see my effort as much like a butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon yet, causing a major weather shift off the coast of Maine. These word-shaped thoughts issued from a small room on an island in the middle of the Pacific may well cause a thought shift of immense proportions somewhere else. If I can clearly define what has caused these illnesses to descend on me, then surely there is a way back to optimum health for me. As well, if there are parallels in the dear readers' lives, then perhaps I will have served my true purpose on earth: helping others heal themselves naturally and do so without extraordinary outside measures.

To start, I’ll break this treatise into parts. I’ll cover my childhood and early adulthood to my second marriage. The next part will be the effects of that second marriage. If there is a finale, I will wrap up my thoughts there.

I think this process will take several issues. It’s not that I’m a slow writer. I’m a careful writer these days, editing as best I can. Too, distilling my thinking about the emotional causes of my illnesses will require some letting go and a willingness to share some fairly deep, personal issues. I may stare at the PC screen for long periods deciding what is appropriate or better yet, how to say what I want to say.

I’ll be back soon with more of “Brittleliquid’s Journey.”

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Bringing You Up To Date...

In the last short while since I wrote, some issues are notable and some are just laughable. I’ll do my best to be serious about some and work at not guffawing myself off the page. You be the judge…

My doctor appointments were, at best, barely satisfying. I saw my primary guy early this month and he continued to admonish me for my weight gain and my elevated blood pressure. The weight gain is astonishing as I changed my diet to salads, vegetables and small amounts of chicken. Okay, maybe I do have a toasted bagel smeared with cream cheese every morning accompanied by mostly black coffee but, that can’t be creating this weight change. I think it started when I began the diabetic insulin shots which did improve the digestive process somewhat. My doctor agreed. So, I began a different tack.

I needed to start exercising and so, I did. I began walking in the mornings. The first week was seven to eight minutes a day but, it was every day. I hadn’t so much as put my running shoes on since before this cancer “unpleasantness” descended in October of 2006. I came back not winded but, certainly tired. The next week I resolved I would double my exercise time and I did—to 15 minutes per day. By now, not exercising daily meant I felt I was missing something in my day, like missing a meeting with a close friend. By the third week, I doubled my walking time to 30 minutes and added an incentive. I walked from my house, along the highway until I reached the local supermarket, “Sack ‘N Save.” I would usually arrive about 7:15am just in time to find day-old bagels at sale prices.

I’ve kept up the walking for these last three weeks and the expected and unexpected benefits showed up. A second doctor’s appointment three weeks into my program showed me at a weight loss of six pounds, a huge change. I was also sleeping better in that I would go for up to four hours a night without waking to make a liquid donation to the toilet. The walking was just tiring me out enough to create a pleasant slumber for the first time in many months.

Surely, the weight loss and the better rest were satisfying to my body and spirit. I proved to myself that my decisions were right, that improving my diet was a good thing, additional powdered fiber intake was moving that food through me more rapidly and getting my heart rate up through the walking was providing rewards in weight change and restful sleep. A surprise benefit was relief from a consistent, deep pain centered in my left hip.

The pain was unendurable at times, keeping me awake at night and preventing me from sitting at my PC during the day. It was right in the pelvic joint and while I couldn’t figure out if yoga-like stretching helped or made the pain worse, occasionally my entire left leg throbbed with pain. I started taking Tylenol regularly and that helped though I didn’t want to rely on that for life-time relief. I drank more water, thinking that would help as water intake helped with neuropathy, a painful muscle cramping associated with diabetes. It helped some. I even told my primary care doctor about it and he ordered an x-ray to see if my cancer had spread into that hip. (He called back later to say that the x-ray “lit-up” in that hip indicating a possible cancer spread. My oncologist told me in another appointment that if the cancer had indeed spread then he would see a hollow space in that ball joint and he didn’t. So, just what was causing this pain, arthritis?)

In any case, the more I exercised, the more the pain went away. I was amazed! There might be a few twinges from time to time but, in the main I was pain-free. My Tylenol intake dropped to maybe one pill every three or four days instead of two a day. My sleep was uninterrupted by pain. Life was good, indeed. My shorts were already getting loose and I had to tighten the wrist band on my watch. Watch this space for the continuing improvements… Tomorrow, I start trekking one hour a day, everyday.

A second medical appointment was with another oncologist or cancer doctor. My interest in connecting with him was because he was the head of a “clinical trial” researching the effects of a new prostate cancer (PC) treatment. This regimen involved twelve injections a week for about 12 weeks. It was a vaccine that triggered the immune system to chew up the cancer cells. Typically, the immune system won’t attack its own human body cells only foreign bodies, like viruses. This stuff makes the cancer cells look like foreign invaders so the immune system goes to work. He reported some success although there is a time limit of sorts. It only works for a little while in terms of the immune system eating up the cancer cells. The good thing though is that once diminished, the cancer stays diminished. My only disappointment was he wouldn’t admit me into the program because I’m not far enough into my current hormone treatment to qualify me. He did prescribe some medicine commonly used to reduce my PSA count (a measurement of how bad is the PC.)

My next appointment that same day was with an MD dispensing what is called “integrative medicine.” He was a Western-trained doctor that was integrating Eastern medicine with contemporary medicine with some remarkable results. Even the local medical insurance company, HMSA, was impressed enough to include his clinic in their payment programs. He went through the normal questions asked of a new patient and then started applying the Eastern methods on me. He took my pulse in both wrists not so much to count my heartbeats against a clock but to read what their strength or weakness was telling him about my general condition. When he finished with that he started asking other questions of me. “What was I most proud of?” I said my daughter. “What did I do for fun?” I said my art was so engrossing that I hadn’t found anything else of such a level. “Why did you divorce?” I explained that I thought my wife had tired of my behavior and decided to lay down the marriage. When he asked what that behavior was, I started to choke up. He asked me what I wanted accomplish from here on out and I started to bawl. I don’t know why I started crying; perhaps because I had never been asked these questions in a medical setting. I felt as if a professional really cared about was important to me as a part of his determination of what was the right treatment for me. This interview was so different from the “Where does it hurt?” routines of previous medico’s. I felt at home in a way probably more because I felt as if someone was actually listening.

In the end, he prescribed acupuncture as a way to “balance” me as I handled the double diseases of diabetes and PC and my work to make my artistic talents pay off into a wealthy lifestyle.

My last appointment was with the oncologist who last saw me almost six months ago when I was in hospital. I thought he wanted to see me because my PSA count was of concern.

In October, my PSA count was 48.5, incredibly high. When I left the hospital it was down to 5, still high when a normal PSA reading is >.01. By February, it was t 7.4. In March, it had risen to 7.9. In PC, the rate of increase over a specified amount of time is the critical measurement. While mine was of some concern, it wasn’t too serious.

I arrived at his office about 20 minutes early for a 3:15pm appointment. My appointment time came and went and soon it was 4:00pm. A nurse called my name and hustled me into a lab to draw some blood. I went back into the waiting room and waited some more. By 4:45pm, I was in a deep nap when I was finally called in to get weighed, read my blood pressure and other vitals. It was close to 5 o’clock before my interview started.

Before he got going, I told the doctor about my days in the airline business. A physician’s conference ended in Hawaii and doctors, wives and families were aboard and ready to leave when some airplane part broke down. Departure time came and went and I was assuring the passengers of a time not far off when they would be on their way. When the delay extended to an hour and a half and the doors were ready to close for the last time, I took up the cabin microphone to speak to the sold-out airplane. I apologized for the delay and wished them an otherwise safe trip home. I then said, “And folks, we know you are doctors and specialists with us today. We thank you for choosing us to fly with but, we also hope you now know what is like to be stuck in your reception areas for hours on end waiting to be served. See you next time!” Whereupon the cabin’s occupants burst into laughter and applause as I clicked off the mike.

This doctor got the message and chuckled, as well. He apologized, saying that a just-prior patient didn’t want to leave and took loads more time than normally allocated. I asked him if my elevated PSA count had caused his office to make this appointment and he said, “What elevation?” He said he hadn’t seen my recent blood reports but he had set up this meet because he hadn’t heard from me these past six months.

It was my turn to pause and consider just what kind of care I was getting in terms of quality and quantity. I had assumed that the medico’s associated with my care were in contact with each other in some way, if not at least by sharing my reports, lab tests and x-rays with each other. They do that and they even sometimes read these things before this patient is at their doorsteps.

I then understood why it is critical to anyone in my position to keep, read and understand the medical reports issued. Once understood, it’s a lot easier to ask questions, even penetrating questions of what treatments should or should not be undertaken on one’s behalf. The internet helps immensely in this regard and I’ve begun to research more and more about what ails me. In time, I may know as much about these two “deadlies”--diabetes and PC--as my medico’s. It’s then I’ll feel confident enough to point out the direction my medical partners will take in my treatment.

Watch this space for more developments…

Saturday, March 24, 2007

If I could have just one wish

If I could have just one wish,
I would wish to wake up everyday
to the sound of your breath on my neck,
the warmth of your lips on my cheek,
the touch of your fingers on my skin,
and the feel of your heart beating with mine...
Knowing that I could never find that feeling
with anyone other than you.

- Courtney Kuchta -

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Online Soulmates

She was the yin to his yang.
He was the dot to her "i".

When she was black or white,
he was her colors in between.

He finished her sentence
she felt his thoughts.

They understood from the inside out
because that's how they began.

She was the words and he the notes
together, an endless song.

He was her real after surreal dreams
she the pier where he anchored his soul.

He was the rope when all else pulled her away
she was his lamp in the dark.

Hers were the blue that mirrored the brown
in the looking glass eyes of the heart.

She was the soft to his hard
and when the door had closed
oh, when the lights blinked out ...

they were as both fire and ice
blurring the lines
between the she and the he

until he was time
she the clock
and together, an eternity.

Written by CJ Heck

Thursday, March 8, 2007

48 Hours After You Left

The telephone
has put on a bathrobe
complaining that my constant staring
makes it feel naked.
And I find myself out in the street
interrogating raindrops
as to your whereabouts.
This one particular raindrop
keeps being very evasive, answering in metaphors
(I may have to get rough.)
Happiness stumbles along
smelling of Mad Dog
and mumbo sauce,
wearing cheap sneakers
with holes the size of a headache
and a shirt that reads
like a menu of stains.
I've begun bottling my tears
to serve as holy water
and all the vowels
in my vocabulary
are now lookouts
on my windowsill
waiting to trumpet
your return.

by D.J. Renegade

Wednesday, March 7, 2007


Everything went wrong,
And the whole day long
I'd feel so blue.
For the longest while
I'd forget to smile,
Then I met you.
Now that my blue days have passed,
Now that I've found you at last -

I'll be loving you always
With a love thats true always.
When the things youve planned
Need a helping hand,
I will understand always.


Days may not be fair always,
Thats when I'll be there always.
Not for just an hour,
Not for just a day,
Not for just a year,
But always.

I'll be loving you, oh always
With a love thats true always.
When the things youve planned
Need a helping hand,
I will understand always.


Days may not be fair always,
Thats when Ill be there always.
Not for just an hour,
Not for just a day,
Not for just a year,
But always.

Not for just an hour,
Not for just a day,
Not for just a year,
But always.

by Irving Berlin

I Will Watch Over You...

When the day dawns and the sun comes up,
And sleep is done and the dreams have ended,
You'll find me there, right next you;
I will watch over you.

As the day's work begins and you make your way
To those needed tasks,
And words come up that are less than pleasant--no worries;
I will watch over you.

If your energy fades
And the effort seems too much,
If your mind starts to wander, no problem--
I will watch over you.

When breaktime comes
And others clamour for your attention
And your thoughts seem like someone else's,
I will watch over you.

As the day stretches on
And fatigue sets in and
You seek the comfort of home,
I will watch over you.

When your hands seem enclosed
By those larger than yours
And you feel safe, it's me because I said,
I will watch over you.

When night finally falls and all that's left
Is slumber and dreams,
Sleep well because,
I will watch over you.

Saturday, March 3, 2007

Everything PointsTo Us...

Halo, Honey Girl,

You are always in my thoughts. You are in my every waking moment. My dreams have evolved so that one way or another you are in them, every night. Virtually all I do, every I step I take is with you and us in mind. I plan my time so that my efforts lead to more of what we need to be able to experience our lives more fully and to have, be and do whatever we want. And now, everything points to us…

I sent you “The Secret” and The Science Of Getting Rich for many reasons but the most important one was so that you and I would think alike, that we would think with positive expectancy toward anything we envisioned. If we thought about it and planned it out, we would expect it to become real. I sent these to you and “The Daily Motivator” and the other things so that you would know—absolutely know—that someone else believed in you and your goals and dreams. Also, I sent them (and continue to send them) with my belief that you would choose me as your friend (your best friend) and later would come to me, put your arms around me and tell me I would be your deepest lover, forever. I wanted you to understand that having a life’s purpose for yourself would give meaning to your every action and thought and that having a certain mindset, doing things in a certain way would inevitably result in anything you wanted to have or to become. And now, everything points to us…

Both of us are working everyday toward shared goals: that we are together for the rest of our lives and that we will build together a life that no one had ever dreamed of—except us. You are studying courses, which while not particularly interesting or satisfying, will be of great service to us in the very near future. I am studying how to go from zero to USD$100, 000, 000 in our business which is a difficult study but which also will be the basis of our future together. That we are speaking with each other in such great admiration of each others’ talents, abilities and skills is testimony that we see how each of us adds to the other, immeasurably. And now, everything points to us…

I look for signs to affirm we are doing the right things. I am able to support you as you continue through school; as best I can. With that support comes the day you will graduate on time. You have a renewed interest in school as you can now see how use those studies in your future. Your poses are intriguing and plentiful allowing me to choose what best reflects you and what I can portray that is new. When I post something new of you, people rush to see what I have done. (Yesterday, we achieved a new record in visitors for one day—73—at In the short time that I have advertised our art (just a month) we already made one sale and have a retail store interested in representing us. I have a good artist friend advising me on how to improve the art (not much he says) but more on marketing it and I am taking some steps he suggests. I am getting better as an artist and now as a marketer, I will be unstoppable. You will handle the financial end of our business just as it begins to rise to bigger heights than anyone dreamed. And now, everything points to us…

About four or five years ago, my passport expired. I applied for a new one so that, in time, I could travel overseas, particularly to visit somebody I care about very much. She lives in the Philippines on its biggest island in a small town by a bay. Today, that renewed passport arrived! All I need now is a visa and an airline ticket and you, Princesa, and I will hold each other for the very first time. It won’t be long now!

And that’s why I say, “…everything points to us…”

I love you, Princesa CC


Thursday, March 1, 2007

No One...

No one is as beautiful as you.
No one poses like you.
No one is as imaginative as you.
No one is as clever as you.
No one is as intelligent as you.
No one is as charming as you.
No one is as loving as you.
No one has captured me like you have.
No one has arrested me for loving you like you.
No one has me confessing to love in the 1st degree like you do.
No one makes me feel the way I do like you do.
No one has ever been loved like you are by me.
No one loves me like you do.
No one...