Tubesday

Today is Day One of my Tube Marathon. At noon, my cervical spine and my brain will be  swimmin’ in a magnetic field whilst radio waves slosh over and through me. Yup, this is all very science fictional.

Prepping to get through these extended suckers is a bit involved.

First – I follow a more or less (mostly less) formal meditation and exercise regimen for the week preceding. This involved hitting the gym most days and really hitting my heights – no dragged out, half assedness. I zoom like those Peleton freaks 

Then I come home where Coco crawls up onto my head and chest, administering heavy duty purr therapy. She's magical, I tell ya!

The exercise wears me out and, combined with Princess Doctor Coco, happy, happy, calming endorphins are trigged.

Second – I’ve altered my reading so’s I’m not focusing on reality’s doom and destruction. The right wing, douchenozzle fuckers with their Angry Daddy About To Go All Jack Torrance faces will, sadly, still be around next week – still screwing their gobs up into Crazoid ALL TOYS, BABES and MONEY ARE MINE tantrums.

There are things in life which are constant. Sadly, the power mad asshole adults with the brain functioning of a deeply spoiled, deranged toddler is one of those constants. Today, not until the current forest of MRIs is cleared, I can’t do anything about it. So, I’m officially ignoring. Keeps my blood pressure down and that makes peace in the damn tube less difficult to reach.

Third – Visualization schemes are important. I’ve a lot of time to think while in there. I need to give myself a head start so’s I can begin my fantasy world right off the bat.

I believe that, for today’s two hour session, I’m going to let my mind off leash and Peter Max the hell outta the tube’s interior and exterior. I’m gonna redecorate if only in my mind. Mass General’s, Ellison 2 labs are gonna be a thing of wild explosive beauty by the time I’m done.

Another thing – in my last book the new superheroes get to craft their own costomes and NO they aren’t all spandex and dull. There’s some wild imagination in play. So, while stuck in the tube for two hours, Imma conjure my own superhero costume! Oh yeah and then, mebbe later, a self portrait will follow.

Lastly – meds. Per my fave doc, my Beach Boy Neuro-otologist, I take one lorazam the night before, one the morning of and a third 15 minutes before I'm slid in. I help this along with a shot of Jamo. Chilling me out is big fucking undertaking. I mean, you wouldn't try to take down Godzilla with an asprin and a weakass shot of valium would you?!