24-26 August 2021

     Vision is horrible today.  This seems to be a rapidly deteriorating issue.  I struggled to read, write Carla on my tablet, and work on my cubist self-portrait.

     I have to be prepared that the total brain radiation Dr. Bradley plans to do will not work and at some point I will lose usable vision before I die.

    Our HSU pulled some of my medication without consulting me.  I heard a story on NPR how health care is a three legged stool.  In corrections they tend to ignore the most important leg, the patient.

25 August 2021

     Chest pain is sharper today, arm and shoulder less functionable,  but my vision is better.

     Was given a "cellie," Chris Larson.  Forty-nine and has spent his life in and out of prison.

     I started laying paint on my in-the-style-of van Gogh self-portrait today.

26 August 2021

     Chest pain is sharper today and the shoulder is less functionable today.  I see a growing a trend.

     I gave myself an under/over date of 8 February 2021.  I will obviously know if I exceed the date.  But if I do not I cannot exactly say, "I told you so". I will be dead.

     You do not know if you die.  You can know you are dying, but I do not think you will know the point that you die, because you will be dead.  Plus when you think you are at that point, you might not die.

    I went to UW today and had a CAT scan, an MRI, and was fitted for a mask for targeted oncology radiation.

     I came back to the prison and ran 2.41 miles, albeit very slowly.

    OSCI is running contests on Labor Day, including a mile run.  They have prizes, and break it up by age group.  

     I believe I will be coming off two weeks of radiation treatment on Labor Day weekend.  But I do not for see anything, except DOC officials physically preventing me from doing so, from keeping me from running that mile race.  

     I do not know how fast I will run.  I am not exactly moving all to fast as it is now.

23 August 2021

 

     I went to Madison today to see Dr. Bradley at UW Health.  She moved up the MRI and believes they (she had an intern and student nurse with her) will be able to address the tumors in the neck causing the compression on the nerves feeding my right arm and shoulder with targeted radiation.  If they cannot find tumors in the brain she also believes they can do a full-brain radiation.

     They are trying to improve my failing eyesight, slipping cognitive function, and try to restore more use to that right arm and shoulder.

     They will have to see what the MRI reveals in order to see if they can to anything about my loss of hearing in the right ear.

     I told them that is the least of my worries of the problems.  But if we are doing this, it would be nice to restore it for awhile.

     This will not help me live longer, just be more functionable with what time I have left.

     I have more artwork I want to kick out.

     The eyesight is becoming more and more of a problem.

     I was already painting on the morning when they told me I had to go to the hospital.  I had read a couple chapters, and was going at it prior to breakfast prior to my morning run.

     Dr. Bradley says I will need ten rounds, if we go forward.  I will lose my hair again.  But I do not have a self-portrait bald, so this gives me a shot at that for my series on how the cancer has taken its toll on me.  Plus that radiation is really harsh and I will get at least double what I endured last time.

     I better enjoy food now because I may not be able to enjoy it for awhile.  It robs the ability to taste food.  Who knows how long that will last this time.

22 August 2021

 

     I am trying to lay out this still life to do another practice van Gogh, but I cannot see worth a damned.  I take off my glasses and CLEAR.

     The cancer cured my vision!

     Okay, it is not that good, but, boy, am I a mess.

     "Just go with it dominic, just go with it", I keep telling myself.

21 August 2021

 

     Got my mile run in this morning, showered, and did my van Gogh styled painting.

     I started trying to juxtapose complimentary colored brush strokes.  Outside of the very light values, it looks terrible.  I did find if I accidentally get some complement in there, that works.  Therefore I need to learn how to "accidentally" get some complementary color in there. Otherwise sticking with the same color, with value fluctuations, and outlines in the complement, seems to work strong.

     I also noticed that he seemed to use two pairs of complements.  In my self-portrait I want to stick to violet and yellow.  It is my artists' bucket list and I always wanted to do a painting in those complements.  So shall it be.

     Isn't art exciting?  You bet it is.

     I was thinking about my upcoming MRI of the brain and spinal cord.  Dr. Pophali said that unless the cancer has tumored up in the brain, we know there are cancer cells in the CNS, there is nothing they can do.

     I must be the only person alive hoping I have a brain tumor.  How funny is that?

     I just want them to be able to keep my arm and eyes viable until I get too sick to make art any more.  The vision has been usable, but difficult the last few days.

     The arm really smarts today.  The acetaminophen took the pain way down, but only for a short while.  I will have to start pounding those every six hours.  Maybe more often.  They won't know I am not taking them in my sleep.

     I try to stay away from the opioids unless I must.  They get me stoned, and I am fuzzy in the head enough.  Plus the constipation they cause sometimes creates more pain than some of the other things.

20 August 2021

 

     My morning run was really difficult.  The legs are very heavy.

     Afterwards a guy said to me, "You sound like you're dying."

     "I am," I replied.

     Little does he know.  That was funny.

     I laid down much of the drawing for my in-the-style-of van Gogh self-portrait.

     I was talking to Torrence Smothers after my run on how when I switch mediums I will do a small piece just to get my hand and mind familiar with the medium again.  Thinking about it later I decided I will do a small piece in the van Gogh style to work things out.

     I never worked in this manner before.

     Cramping in the hands was awful this morning, and the vision has been a challenge the last two days.

     I was back with my mile morning run.  The arm hurts.  It seems that I will see Dr. Bradley just in time for the radiation.

19 August 2021

 

     Dan Dominguez, Juan Nava, and I went running this morning.  Juan was left behind, but I only ran a mile.  Both Dan and Juan kept going.

     That is a good breakfast.

     I woke up at the ungodly hour of 12:30am, but stayed up all day.  I was back reading Duncan Hannah's Twentieth Century Boy, and Desmond Morris's The Lives of the Surrealists.  Then I spent the rest of the day going at my cubist self-portrait.

     Tired, but good day.

18 August 2021

 

     I have my property.  I put my stuff away, and will need to do it again in a week or so when I move.  

     I hate that.

     I showed off some of my artwork, plus I ran my first mile at Oshkosh.

17 August 2021

 

     Still no property.

     Having completed orientation, I went to our library.  Lots of empty shelves.  I found some very, very dated art history books.

     An Andrew Wyeth biography from the 70s and an overview of Modern art from the 50s.

     I might have to donate a few books.

16 August 2021

 

     I still have not received my property.  Most of the other guys I came with have, as have the guys who came in Friday after me.  So I think I should receive it in the next two days.  I hope tomorrow.

     I was on the softball diamond again and have all but nothing left.  I can throw the ball about sixty feet, with nothing on it.  I do not move very well either.

     Since July 31st I have noticed a major physical loss of ability and energy.  I am heading on that increasing spiral to death.

     It is disappointing.

     I saw Dr. Patrick Murphy today.  He said they will not transfer me to the DCI infirmary.  When the time comes I will be placed on the long term care unit here to be cared for until death.

     No more transfers.

     I am reading Mary Roach's Stiff: The Curious Life of Cadavers, and I had it with me.  He kept on looking at the book and must think I am some really morbid freak.  That is funny.

     It was the only worthwhile book in the units collection.  Plus it is interesting and witty.  Plus I do not have this sanctimonious belief of the human body after death.  We are just a sack of molecules at that point.

     I just hope some of mine end up as part of a plum tree in my parents back yard after I am dead.

15 August 2021

 

     Al McCormick and I got out on the softball diamond and threw the ball around. 

     Dr. Bradley and her group did an amazing job restoring use to that arm and shoulder.  Plus it is in worse shape than it was three weeks ago.

     With that said, there was no zip behind any ball I threw.  But I could throw it sixty feet.

     That was good stuff.

     When I can no longer do these things that will be one of my enduring memories.

     Is that an oxymoron?  Can a man with months to live have enduring memories?

    I still remember sitting at Redgranite, watching the sunset over the softball diamond, after my last softball game there in 2019, knowing I would likely never play a game again.

     I am really itching to get my property so I can get at my books and start working on artwork again.

     I am running out of time.

     I suspect I might not see my property until as late as Friday the 20th, because so many guys came here all at once.

     On the day I came, we had three groups of guys come I for a total of thirty-eight guys.  Plus, two days later they dropped off fifteen more.

     The guys in property are swamped.

14 August 2021

   Chest pains are back.  That tells me things will start progressing at a pretty good clip from here on out.

     I have not had any response to a drug since early March or April.  So the disease has been growing uninhibited since then.  Plus the blood work shows it is growing at an accelerated rate.

     I hope to get another quality 90 to 120 days before I get really sick.  But that may be very wishful thinking on my part.

     Juan Nava and I went on a brisk walk this evening.

     Fatigue has been a growing factor for almost two weeks now.

     OSCI has a thing against plastic bags.  We cannot have them.  Trash goes directly into the garbage buckets in our cells. 

     The one in my cell was gross and slimy, so I ask the guys where I can access a spigot to hose it out.  They direct me to a janitor’s closet that staff must open.  I ask the officer to get into it but she says I cannot use it.  She offers me a spray bottle and rag.

    This thing has not been cleaned in a while being an intake cell where people come and go in a matter of weeks.  Plus a lot of guys are just downright filthy. 

    Dominic says no, thank you; I get my shower stuff, and like Ernie and his rubber Dickie, I take my Rubbermaid trash bucket into the shower and blast the slime away.  Then I get the spray bottle and rag and clean it out.

    I did not make up a song for my shower pal.  If you make one, send it to me.

     The things you have to do live in a cleaner environment.

13 August 2021

 

     On Friday the 13th -- how apropos is that? -- I was taken taken to UW Health and saw Dr. Pophali where it was determined I was not responding to the pirtobrutinib and they can no longer do anything to treat my cancer.

    I knew this already, but me "knowing" it and Dr. Pophali telling me this are two different things.  I think deep inside I was hoping that I was misinterpreting the numbers from my blood draws, and they were within normal fluctuation swings.  But she confirmed that I was indeed reading them correctly.

     I told her I lasted longer than I expected.  In a very touching moment, she reached out and placed her hand on top of mine, and nodded yes. 

     Dr. Pophali did schedule an MRI to see if they can target some tumorous masses for targeted radiation to keep me functioning at as high of a level as possible as long as I can.

     They will scan the brain and neck.  The latter to try to stem the loss of use of the right arm that started to bare its ugly head again in late July, plus the hearing loss in my right ear.

    I am all but deaf there.

     In the brain they will look for a tumorous mass to see if we can help with the cognitive function and the visual problems I am struggling with.

     I believe they will be able to do the former.  We did it before.  But my guess is we just have cancer cells, and not a tumor, in the brain, and might not be able to do that.  But the last MRI was in May, and that could have changed since then.

     That is three months.

     I have had low level chest pains today.  My last PET scan, also in May, showed my chest, other than in my arms and legs, which have never shown cancer in an image, was the only place to be cancer free (tumors have been there before).  This tells they are back.

     I bumped into my old friend Al McCormick today.  I have not seen him in about fifteen years.

12 August 2021

 

     I bumped into two old friends from the Green Bay Correctional Institution today,  Dan Dominguez and Juan Nava.  Dan was kind enough to ask if I needed anything, and got me a pen, pad of paper, and a razor.

     Being Mexican Nationals, they did not receive COVID stimulus monies, therefore, on prison wages, this is something he had to come up with what little he has to get by with.

     There is a kindness behind bars that people would not expect.  Thank you, Dan.

11 August 2021

 

     I say goodbye to Redgranite Correctional Institution.  Despite this being the place I became terribly ill, I will miss this place.  For prisons, I liked it here.

     Oshkosh Correctional Institution is expansive, and has trees.  Albeit, shorter ones.  They have correctional officers doing rounds on bicycles.  I can see this being a challenge as my health continues to decline.

     I learned that my appointment, the one that was scheduled to take place today with Dr. Pophali, was cancelled by RGCI's HSU manager,  Angela Thompson, RN.

     That woman does not know what she is doing.

      Staff here tell me this was coordinated with the HSU manager here.  But, since I have an entire second bottle of pirtobrutinib, and am scheduled to continue the drug until October, I have nothing to worry about.

     The nurse then proceeded to give me one pill, emptying the bottle.  I explained I receive 300 mg, three pills.  She went to get the "full bottle", only to find there was only enough for three days.

     I explained it was an experimental drug and was only sourced from my hematologist when I see her, and she determines whether to issue more of the medication at that appointment.

     Thank you, Angela Thompson, for your continued incompetence.

     They have two more days to get me into the hospital.

     They feed us less food here, but thus far it tends to taste better.

10 August 2021

 

     I did not go on a hospital trip this morning.  I run out of drugs tomorrow, therefore I all but must go to the hospital tomorrow.  I am also, per rumor, supposed to transfer tomorrow.

     I am sure that the one department of RGCI did not coordinate this with the other department.  I am just going to sit back and watch how this circus trick unfolds.

     My hands are really cramping up this morning.  I drank my Pedialyte yesterday.

9 August 2021

 

     I shipped some of my art books to my brother, a bunch of artwork to Prisoner Express, and nine more pieces to the Portrait Society for the exhibition.

    I am back to laying out the van Goghesque self-portrait.  I became so tired last night I had to fight to get the minimal done prior to being able to go to bed after count.

     Just gathering all the stuff this morning, which I had already organized, and cleaning my cell has me very drained.  The cancer is beginning to wear me down again.  

     The weather finally cleared up and I was able to go run two miles this afternoon.  The legs were really heavy, but felt better as I went along.  Altogether, not a very good run.  I developed the visual hallucinations again, followed by the impaired vision, but I felt good afterwards. 

     I love to run.

     Then I pooped on myself.  Instead of crying, I laughed this time.  But what a mess.

8 August 2021

 

     I cleared the long Covid test yesterday and was returned to my old cell, and unit.  I had to put everything back, which surely was a waste of time,  but it is nice to be out and about.  I was finally able to watch Svengoolie, however, Black Friday (1940), despite starring Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff, is not the strongest offering. 

     Rains washed out both the morning and evening outdoor recreation.  I was caught in one helluva downpour going to get my cancer medication at 4:30 pm.  My shoes were filled with rainwater, and it is not the longest walk.

     I put more time into my cubist self-portrait, and am about to start laying out my in-the-style-of Van Gogh self-portrait.  I am exhausted.

     Rumor has it I will be shipping out to the Oshkosh Correctional Institution on Wednesday.  But a little birdie also told me he has me for a hospital transport, he believed, is Wednesday.

     We shall see what happens.

     I held my blood thinner tonight in case I go to the hospital tomorrow.  That way we can go right into interthecal chemotherapy, if that is what we decide.

     My arms are so heavy.

6 August 2021

   I slept until the alarm clock today for the first time since I can remember.  Yet I am still exhausted.

 

7 August 2021

     I woke up at 2am and my sinuses, nose, and throat felt so much better.  Not all the mucus, and sore, and scratchiness.  Then I went right back to bed and slept until a little after 5am.

     I sleep better over here for some odd reason?  Sleep is good.

     I was told yesterday that they are awaiting the COVID-19 long test and that I should still transfer next week.

     I spent yesterday organizing my books, and my completed artwork to send out.  I have nine more finished pieces for the Portrait Society's exhibition.

     I was back working on my cubist self-portrait, then want to jump to the in the style of Neel, and van Gogh self-portraits.  Then is the shadow box idea I have, but not sure what I want to do with it.

5 August 2021

 

     I informed the staff I am sick with respiratory issues and I have been placed in isolation due to COVID-19 concerns.  They did a quick test and a normal test for COVID-19, but they did not do a culture for anything else.

     Whatever it is I am really fighting with it.  I am physically drained.

     With that said, they have me on an almost deserted unit, and the silence is absolutely blissful.  Although I will not be happy when I cannot get hot tea in the morning.  Plus I want to get things done, but I am so exhausted.  I am drained.

     My mind says go, my body just wants to rest.

     I added The Lives of the Surrealists, by Desmond Morris, to my daily reading this morning.  Duncan Hannah's book is drugs, sex, rock and roll, with little art.  Hence, the addition.

     I hope as Hannah ages I. his journals, he turns more to the art.  I am not holding my breath.

     At his age I was chasing the girls, listening to music, and drinking.  Although not to the extremes he did.

3 August 2021

     I did some work on my cubist self-portrait, started going through my stuff preparing to transfer, ran five miles, and began saying good-byes.

 

4 August 2021

     I am struggling with increased respiratory issues.  Every day it seems to get worse and worse.  I am really dragging.

     I did run a mile this morning.  Struggled drawing.  Then was really going good on my cubist self-portrait.  I was in the groove, feeling like crap or not.  Nick Stock sat for me to do a figure study for me "in the style of" Alice Neel self-portrait I want to tackle.  But things are a struggle right now.

     I had a video visit with Peg Swan, with Forum For Understanding Prisons, and it appears that from here on out they will largely take the reins of the law suit for compassionate release and I can relax a little more.

2 August 2021

 

     I am transferring.  Either to the Oshkosh Correctional Institution, or the Racine  Correctional Institution. Sometime next week.

     I am nervous.

     If it is the former, that is a downgrade for me.  It is closer to my parents, but not close enough with these COVID-19 restricted one hour visits.  If it is the latter,  then that puts me less than thirty minutes from my parents house.

     I also worry about them taking my open tubes of paint when I transfer again.  I just started laying oil paint on canvas the day prior.

     The tumor on my neck is definitely growing.  It is starting to appear like a flying buttress again.  I should see Dr. Pophali in less than a week.  We could very well be back to palliative care from here on out.  I exceeded what I expected on longevity, and just feeling good.  But for some reason my limbs have become terribly heavy the last three days.  Especially my forearms. Especially the right.

     Austin Norman, RN called me down to HSU this afternoon.  They received the results on my urine  sample and switched me ciprofloxacin to nitrofurantoin.  He said the latter will better help treat my infection.

31 July 2021

 

     I was planning on watching Creation of the Humanoids (1962), a zero star film, said to be an Andy Warhol favorite, on Svengoolie.  The guys tell me this morning that the storm knocked out reception on two of our channels.

    The prison has an external antenna, which they run through a CCTV system, into our cells, and we get our television channels.

     The prison maintenance crew serviced the system, after the storm, knocking out all but two channels.  So no Creation of the Humanoids tonight.  Now RGCI officials are telling us the loss of all but two channels was due to the storm, not maintenances shortcomings. 

     They did not add the last part, but...

     I ran a mile this afternoon, putting me at 42.5 miles for the month.  Half of that was in this last week.  That is good.  Running is good for me mentally and physically.  It really keeps my head in a good place.

     The air quality, from the wildfires in Canada and out west, was absolutely terrible today.

     I began laying paint on my cubist self-portrait.  Which of course, dying to work in oil again, is acrylic.

     I decided to lay out the edges that separate the planes in black acrylic so that they would dry fast and can then go back in oil without the extended drying period.

     Laying it out in skeleton form like this it reminds me of some of Piet Mondrian's last representational works prior to him going purely abstract.  I can now see how, him seeing cubism and working with it, that progression may have taken place.

     They pulled a guy with a likely COVID-19 infection from my units wing this afternoon.  They pulled his "cellie" too.

    Two weeks ago they began forcing us to eat meals in the dining hall.  That is literally shoulder-to-shoulder, because the tables are so small.  That means every person in this unit has been exposed.  Yet they did not do a mass testing.

     Furthermore staff are largely not wearing masks, nor enforcing mask wearing among prisoners.  The lone staff member who was, has at best been telling guys to make it appear like the mask is near the face.  Hardly a deterrent to airborne viruses.

     RGCI officials have not, and continue to not take this virus seriously.

29 July 2021

     We had an exceedingly strong storm come through last night.  We lost our power through the night, causing too many of the grown men on our unit to act as if they were twelve years old.

     The prison is encircled by three tall cyclone fences, with a tree line, at its closest thirty (my guess) to fifty (others guess) yards away.  The storm was so strong that leaves were ripped from the trees and lodged in the fence.

     I ran a mile this morning and developed mucus seepage from my backside.  I struggled with diarrhea and mucus yesterday, a side effect from the Pirtobrutinib.  I may have to go back to the adult diapers.

     The cubist self-portrait, maquette was finished while listening to The Devil Does Drugs by My Life With The Thrill Kill Kilt.  Does it get any better than that?

     The only problem was the maquette was for me to work out the layout, and how I wanted to attack the cubism.  I may have, I am not thrilled, tackled the layout.  But the so-called cubist design is up in the air.

     I think I can play off this, but it surely is not what I want as an ending result.  I guess it eliminates two possibilities, as started one way and finished another way.

30 July 2021

 

     I have begun to transfer my maquette to canvas.  After further thought, I  believe I will be able to use my maquette as a road map to color and value in the finished piece while adopting Braque's Impressionistic brush strokes.

     I am excited to see how this comes together.

     The maquette, I am pretty sure, will go to Prisoner Express, while the painting will go to the Portrait Society.

     I ran a really good mile this morning.  The red blood cell count seems to be up. 

     The right calf is tight.  I am still getting cramping issues.

     My urine was brown when I woke up this morning.  Never seeing urine that color, and knowing I had a medical appointment, I saved it.

     I have a urinary tract infection.

     I am fine, but it is always, "Okay, what is next?" And next is coming.

     Considering I expected to be dead already, I am doing darn good.  I do not have any pain, nor do I feel sick.  I was thinking this morning, based on the timeline I was dealing with in the fall of 2019, I might be alive for Christmas this year.

     I ran another five miles tonight, before listening to the Brewers' and Braves' baseball game on the radio.

28 July 2021

 

     I was up at about 3am again this morning, but refused to get out of bed until after 3:30am.  Way too early.

     I could tell on my mile run this morning that my already low red blood cell count was lower than normal.  I was gasping for breath right from the start.

     Continued working on my cubist self-portrait, using an unsuspecting video game player as a proxy for an angle I cannot get in my mirror. 

     The guerrilla sketcher.

27 July 2021

 

     I did not sleep to the alarm today.  I did force myself to stay in bed past 3am. 

     I started 20th Century Boy: Notebooks of the Seventies by Duncan Hannah, which are journals, not memoirs, as I previously incorrectly noted.

     Hannah, being a practicing artist in NYC, will cover the scene, I hope, but it is far more encompassing.  Plus I do not think he is a major player in the art world.  Then again, this may be a more realistic view of what it would be like for me trying to be a practicing artist.

     Being an artist, but not one of the select few that history holds in posterity. 

     There are a lot of minor artists who receive mention in history, are collected in museums, and have a collector base, yet are not full blown major names.  I always said if I could get one serious person to collect my art I would be thrilled, but I cannot even get my dad to not give it away.

    He tells me, "We still have the one you did in grade school."

     I believe the rest he donated to St. Vincent DePaul with the Bakhtiari versus bear painting I did.

     While history only saviors a select few, if you are creating, engaged with other creators, getting by, does the rest matter?  You are doing what fuels you to awaken every morning.

     Now let’s get this maquette done so I can bust out those oil paints.

     I received a postcard today from the Portrait Society: Gallery of Contemporary Art.  They received the work Jennie Reno sent them and they would like to do an entire wall of my work for the 2022 show.  It is time to put the peddle to the metal and get work done.

     The maquettes, trial runs, et cetera will still go to Prisoner Express.  Plus whatever else I come up with.

     We had a pretty good storm come through this morning nixing outside morning recreation.  I was able to get out there tonight and run five miles.  It was terribly humid, and I am exhausted.

     I am sure being up since the wee hours of the morning did not help.

     Steve Wankowski was released this morning.  Reggie Wheeler, who works outside the prison gates, saw Steve's wife pick him up.

26 July 2021

   I woke up several times at night, but actually slept to my alarm clock.  I had been waking up early for the last several days again.

     They are doing mass COVID-19 testing in the prison today.  However, they are inexplicably only testing unvaccinated individuals.

     The delta variant of COVID-19 is infecting the vaccinated and unvaccinated.  If they do find positive tests, they could go back and test everyone.   We shall see how this turns out.

     I finished Louise Nevelson: Art Is Life by Laurie Wilson this morning while sipping tea and eating pumpkin muffins.  How pleasant is that?  Very.

     I worked on my cubist maquette, but it was a fight to get myself to work.  I did get my copy of my 1983 motion and mailed it to Mustafa in Waupun with a letter and documents.

     I received a letter from Jennie Reno along with pictures of the Mug-shot collage and sketch I did of Joe Hecht.  I simply wrote her back and confirmed the originals need to go to the Portrait Society Gallery of Contemporary Art in Milwaukee for their show in 2022 of artwork of the imprisoned.  Which, as of now, is where my cubist self-portrait is earmarked.

     I sent them to her because Joe wanted documentation of the work.

     I think the heat (another hot and humid day with low 90s and dew points around 70) just wore me down.