My sisters and my brothers are here. In Columbia, and all across this great country, Love is the temple, Love is the higher law. Another sign was given to me just yesterday: One love, One blood, One life you got to Do What You Should.

A magnificent project on this theme is presently cooking within my soul. I don’t expect you to understand all of it, at least not right away. Did I ask too much?

I do expect you to try and understand. One Love,  –Dale

My COBRA coverage is no good in Missouri. The doctor who understands is in San Jose, California. I’ll re-visit Silicon Valley with good old Democratic friends, but I’m sick at heart that I’m a sick 99%-er, and the people in charge of “healthcare” are greedy, and contemptuous of the federal-level changes on the way.

My good old Democratic friends gave me a button that shows the date and signature of Our President on March 23rd, 2010. This button gives me hope. Yes, Hope, that months from now, I won’t have to fly to see my doctor, and my medical records — which are extensive — will be available for download all across this land, at my request.

Like or comment or praise Jesus if you think I should fashion this particular journey into an art project.

Breathing,  Dale

It ain’t me, It ain’t me, I ain’t no military son, son
It ain’t me, It ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate one, no.

For awhile now, conservative members of my family have been creeping out of their fortunate closets to visit #Occupy sites and observe the movement. They shy away from the opportunity to join the people on the trail, making history. They say it’s about strident, provocative language on handmade signs. I love my family, but fuck it.

People vote for Republicans because they want to believe that buys them control. This incapacity — while tragic — appeals to folks who lack the spine to face uncertainty. They use the words “I’m not comfortable with ______” to avoid engagement. And for the record, I’m not “comfortable” with war- and oil-profiteer Democrats.

Let’s stop farting around, Nelsons. No matter what your personal fortune — or lack thereof — in today’s terms, you’re on my economic level. I don’t assume control of anything. I work hard in spite of disabling Central Apnea. My husband and I moved to CoMo to get economic relief from our Silicon Valley situation. In spite of degrees and mad skills, we are financially precarious, with lots of company here in Missouri.

I am the 99%, and so are you. Get comfortable with that, and then we’ll Talk.

/ Thanks for the lyrics excerpt, LyricsFreak.

My husband and I moved to the middle of the country because it was in his economic best interest. As we wait for the results of that roll of the dice, the economy has worsened enough that people are demonstrating their pain and frustration in public.

All across this land.

Some relatives and friends of mine are trying to resist the pull of street action against the plutocracy. Like Dr. Frankenfurter, I question this creeping toward fate, when it’s just as easy — and so much more fun — to dive into What You Know You Want.

You know how the song goes, but I think this part really nails the “former” Republicans who are in fact, closet Democrats:

It’s just a jump to the left
And a step to the right
Put your hands on your hips
You bring your knees in tight
But it’s the pelvic thrust
That really drives you insane

To paraphrase, you can jump in with Democrats while hanging on to a piece of your Conservative soul. You’ll find friends who share your values. Most of us are centrists, because that’s always where the political action is. Our events are wild, chaotic fun, and the messy, rudderless Party will eventually focus on the people in the streets.

So Brad and Janet, why not jump in? I know you’re confused. I know actual sweaty, hairy Democracy can be frightening. But isn’t it Nice?

I knew this was happening, cause I’m living it myself: Low-dollar skills and medical bills. It’s a wake-up call to realize that I know many people with multiple health issues, and sleep disorders are even more common among my friends than I thought. And we’re broke and sleep deprived.

Men are more likely to have sleep apnea than women, and less likely to talk about it openly, even with people they consider friends. Among the high number of people in my local area with a) sleep-disordered breathing, and b) asthma, many are driving, working, socializing. We aren’t visible and we aren’t organized.

While these sleepy folks rock on — awesome — their quality of life and mine depend on the skill to navigate our present economy as health care customers — so not awesome. I think NY Rep. Anthony Weiner put it best to Chris Hayes, guest-hosting a recent episode of Rachel Maddow.

It’s an unhealthy economy. They (Conservatives) all invest in companies that want to sell products and want to sell services to middle class people who can’t afford to buy them.

Into this insane economy — broken by investors — they shout loud and clear: Your only value is your part in a transaction that benefits investors. Benefits to you and me aren’t even in their equation. We’re lucky to play a role, seeing as how we’re so unhealthy.

I will apply my newly won alertness to surviving this economy. Cause I could end up being an investor. I hear if you’re good at grabbing, right now the grabbing is very good. Especially in health care.

I’m remembering an elaborate dream after my first night with the new bilevel machine. That means I’m on the right pressures, and going forward I’ll get more of the deeper sleep stages and the life-giving REM. This morning I made a list of things I need to finish, which tells me my mental fog is starting to clear. I think I got everything I asked for.

I’ll be working with my new sleep doc and his staff to maximize this therapy and put myself back on track. Back to Life.

SaO2 nadir of 69%. Longest hypopnea was 27.5 seconds. Longest apnea was 62.5 seconds. In a Total Sleep Time of 258 minutes: 93 central — and surprising to me — 14 obstructive apneas. That shows my apnea is Mixed with Central the dominant type. All respiratory events — apneas, hypopneas, respiratory arousals — occurred at greater than double the average rate when I was sleeping on my right side.

What my doctor and I hope is that my brain will adjust over time on the machine, and I’ll get more time each night in the deeper stages of sleep, and of course REM. This will mean more energy, more oxygen in my bloodstream, and a much brighter mood. For starters.

Though I can hardly wait, I’m keeping in mind that compared to standard sleep center appointment wait times, this turnaround of 34 days is phenomenal. So I’m getting the best of care and consideration. About damned time.

I’m with Kate Bush on this: Let me be weak, let me sleep, and dream of sheep.

I love the fact that a dedicated crowd of PHP developers created a platform that makes site production easier. I also love being able to rapidly install, customize, and publish right away if I want. If you’re bashing away in an HTML editor when you’d rather be posting and showing your stuff, know this: You can free yourself. Right now.

I’m hosting this site with HostGator, one of thousands of hosting companies running cPanel and Fantastico. Many companies provide those tools, and even if they aren’t a WordPress favorite, I like HostGator’s tech support folks. Solid phone support is key.

There is a learning curve. I’ve spent hours in the WordPress Codex and Forum, but many things are easy enough to just dive in and figure out. The latest release, 3.1, has some very welcome improvements. It just gets easier and smarter, and makes me feel the same.

I don’t regret the two years I spent learning to code in Dreamweaver. I do wish I hadn’t waited to take advantage of WordPress. Now that I know how get a functional site up in minutes, and enough CSS and PHP to tweak it just the way I want, I’m free.

Dude. Join us.

The colors happen to be two of my favorites plus the usual shades of gray which came with the theme. Two of my favorite web fonts, Helvetica Neue and Georgia, are the defaults in TwentyTen, which ensures maximum readability even at smaller sizes.

I use Adobe Fireworks for page mockups and final graphics; Photoshop for background photo image prep; FireFox with FireBug for identifying page elements and working in my WordPress Admin; TextWrangler for PHP file changes; and CyberDuck for uploads to the server fileset. Except for the Adobe programs, all of this runs on my MacBook for free.

In the blog section, posts are titled after rock and pop songs. If your brain works like mine, the songs will be playing in your head as you read the posts. Stumped? YouTube.

I’m telling you this because I want you to know: if you take enough time to learn some coding basics, you can have a unique and attractive site on the web in a matter of days. I’m no longer in the business of site setup and marketing, but I can certainly answer questions and recommend ways to DIY. My sleepy brain loves this creative outlet.

If you think I can help you get to the same place, let me know.

I was born with a birth defect called pyleric stenosis. This pic was soon after my first surgery — mom says my stomach valve (pylorus) was re-sectioned and inverted — just before my 2nd birthday. I was extra chubby because my food was staying down. In my first visual memory I’m projectile-vomiting something orange over mom’s shoulder onto a white wall. I don’t remember the hospital stay.

When I look at this pic of my younger self, I notice the deviated septum and the dazed look. My early childhood featured vivid nightmares and some sleepwalking, but in our family those were common enough that they didn’t stand out. I’ve always had chronic daytime sleepiness that overtakes me before I can react, which means I’ve always had some degree of trouble breathing at night. Every male member of my immediate family has a CPAP machine, and I’ve had surgery on my nose and and upper airway.

These days it’s widely accepted that many people have sleep disorders, and that Apnea is the most commonly occurring one. What isn’t widely accepted is that our American culture denies sleepiness and thus denies sleepy people the chance to tell their story.

So I’m speaking to my two-year old self. I’m telling him, everything will change, and yet nothing will. People will listen or they won’t, but you will get to tell your story.

And people can listen. Or not.