One of the most effective weapons in the mighty arsenal of the US Armed Forces isn't a weapon at all. It's music. Every once in a while you'd hear this story about the Army or Marines ready to do battle somewhere and they'd blast music through their loud speakers. They aren't be psychic-ing themselves up. They're playing it for their enemies.
Don't think it's a Miley Cyrus song either. No, when you're about to commit unbelievable terror on a bunch of strangers with guns, what is the appropriate tunage? From what I heard, it usually has something to do with Ronnie James Dio. A scared Arab fella might have heard a Miley Cyrus song or two or at least one of the millions like it. But he's never heard the horrific noise of a Dio song. Forget "Arab fella". It can scare the crap out of any of us.
So at about three o'clock today, right at the time when this not-going-outside-the-floor, body-withering, nausea-and-crappiness cocktail thing is starting to get to me, I decide it's time to inflict pain on someone else. Now, the nurses here are very nice. At least that's what I can tell when I understand them. Many are from another country. And while my doctor doesn't really say more than three sentences to me and just the other day was so annoyed at my questions that he literally walked out of the room while I was in mid-sentence, he is saving my life. So they're all out.
I couldn't go outside to find a stranger. I was left with one choice--the cancer. Yep, the nodes were gonna get it. But I had no Ronnie James Dio. Most of you would consider that a welcome trait, especially if you've ever heard him. I don't think he'll be coming out a Christmas album soon. Some of you (okay, only Glenn), may disagree. So I did the next best thing. I pressed shuffle on the iPod and what would you know, Sympathy for the Devil came up. This was the live version. Enough noise to disturb the cancer especially when you turn it up to eleven, which I did. It was a beautiful moment. Take a little of this.
Other than that, life here is the same. It's the same because it is as controlled an environment as anyone can create without a revolt from the inmates. A hurricane came through Houston last year. You would think it was sprinkling outside if you were in here. In the meantime, my own body is purposely heading south. At least I'm humming.