Danny and Darrell in 1959, I am the Blonde Driving[/caption].
Welcome back My Dear Readers to The Other Shoe. Today is Wednesday September 3rd, 2014. I am not at home, right now, I am actually at Orange Coast Memorial Hospital[1] having a ‘P.E.T. Scan’[2] done to my entire body. A P.E.T. scan is a Positron emission tomography scan, meaning that they use Positron emissions to create a ‘map’ of my entire body. Prior to putting me into ‘The Tube’ they inject me with a IV solution of D50W (a High density Glucose IV solution), mixed with a radioactive isotope. Cancer cells, and tumors, just love SUGAR! The cancer cells, and tumors, drink up the sugar solution and the radioactive isotope.
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Then when my body is hit with the Positron Emission the cancer cells, and tumors, light up like a Christmas tree! BINGO! Glowing cells and tumors! This will give my oncologist a much better idea of just where my cancer has spread to, and where all I have tumors! This takes about five hours, and I won’t be back home till after 5PM. Thursday, I am going for a Bone Marrow Biopsy at Los Alamitos Hospital.
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The Bone Marrow Biopsy is a simple removal of bone marrow from my pelvic girdle. They sedate me, and then drill into my butt cheek, down to the bone. Drill into the bone and draw out some bone marrow. Then the bone marrow is sent over to the pathology lab, where they will stain the sample and examine the stained sample under a microscope. Just LIKE the tumor removed from my jawline, they will discover if my Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma has entered my bone marrow. If that is the case, then they will add radiation therapy to my chemo schedule.
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They will ‘nuke’ my bone marrow to kill all of the cancer cells. Friday, I will have the ‘Porta-Cath’ placed under my skin near my clavicle. I still need an MRI done of my brain, again to determine if the cancer has reached my brain. My first chemotherapy is scheduled for Tuesday September 9th, 2014.
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PLEASE DONATE TO Danny’s Cancer Treatment Fund @ Indiegogo![3]
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The following was written in September 2012 as a part of my campaign to raise needed funds for my Power Chair. I am republishing this series of articles because I am just too tired… to fatigued… and too depressed to write my regularly scheduled articles. I do not want to leave you, My Dear Readers, with nothing good to read. As well, I am hoping that, upon reading this story, you might decide that I deserve your support… and contribute to my Cancer Treatment Fund.
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My Dear Readers, I just sat thought a two hour orientation for my chemotherapy. All through the orientation I kept hearing, ‘You need lots of extra fluids-orange juice, flavored waters, fruits, Crytal-lite ANYTHING to keep you drinking Quarts OF WARTER BASED DRINKS ALL DAY to keep your liver from being damaged by these chemicals and the destroyed cancer cells and tumors, “YOU NEED LOTS OF HIGH CALORIE FOODS” to keep eating all through the day (lots of little meals all during the day NOT large meals twice or three times a day) TO BATTLE FATIGUE and HELP YOUR BODY RECOVER FROM THE CHEMOTHERAPY.
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My Dear Readers, I do NOT have fluids or extra foods. Allen and I have been (for the past YEAR) on a STRICT food schedule. We spend $5 to $7 dollars A DAY for FOOD. PERIOD! We do NOT have the funds Nor the budget to pay FOR WHAT I AM TOLD WILL PROTECT MY HEALTH AND BODY. This is the why behind my cancer treatment campaign. Without your help? My body will undergo terrible damage and I fear I will end up hospitalized. Can’t you PLEASE HELP?!?
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The following is ‘Part Two’ of ‘The Story of Daniel’. I hope that you all enjoy this work. Thank you!
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Episode Two -Formative Years & The Hannings Move to Pearland
The holidays, for the Hanning family, were an enjoyable and busy time. Starting in October, when the air became crisp and temperatures dropped, my father added a new duty to his agenda. He took on the creation and display of festive and seasonal decorations. Though my father never talked of it openly, he loved the holiday season. Oh, not shopping and not the cooking (that was Mother’s job), he just loved decorating the house for the neighbors. It almost seemed as though he regarded it as some ‘social responsibility’ to provide eye candy for the community and neighbors.
I never sensed he thought of it as; an obligation or competition it was his way of expressing himself. My father didn’t sing or dance or anything of that nature. Yes, he sang hymns at South Park Baptist Church but you would never see him bursting into song around the house of neighborhood.
Now, having said you might think that (like most Americans) Christmas decorations would have been his favorite outlet and forte. No, my father got a gas out of Halloween decorations. It started on Thrush Street, in Houston, but carried over to Francis Street in Pearland. I am not talking about just some paper decorations in the windows and on the doors. Oh no, that would not do for Ken Hanning. Like his activities in the garage, Danny was totally committed to doing everything he could to help make his father’s desires manifest in our home. I generally, would give Dad ideas. "How about a witch on a broom?" and "Oh, Dad, could we make it talk?" That is all it would take.
The first year that I have a clear memory of we went all out. First, I need to explain a little something that is kind of embarrassing. August 25, 1987 I was involved in an accident at my work, and this is where I believe all my problems with my neck an spine really had their start.
I was working in an ‘electronics’ storeroom at Target, on Pacific Coast Highway, in Manhattan Beach. I was doing a ‘visual inventory’ of a very high stack of stock literally minding my own business. This stack of stock was not on steel racks like everything else in the storeroom. It was between two shelving units and just kind of like the game ‘Jenga’. Well that day, even though nobody pulled anything out, from the very top of the 15-20 foot pile a Smith-Corona typewriter (still in the shipping crate) came tumbling down on unsuspecting Daniel.
The typewriter fell and struck me at the base of my skull @ my cervical spine. The impact caused multiple spinal cord contusions, closed head trauma, and loss of feeling and some use of my arm and leg. I was hospitalized for three months and then spent another four months in a rehab institute for Head Injured Adults. Since then I have difficulties remembering; some of my past and friends and even had a loss of memory of friends at that time. I have worked hard to rebuild my memory, but there are still ‘holes’… so, please understand. Thank you and now, back to my story.
"YES!" replied my father. That year he and I built a ‘witch’ sitting in an aluminum deck chair. She was scary, with the big black pointed hat and black robes and a really good witch mask. Hidden inside,was a speaker, and it was connected to an old intercom system that my father had salvaged from one of the companies he did electronic work for in the past. We ran wires that were well hidden from the back of the witch into a window and into my parent’s bedroom. He would stand inside the door and watch for children to come up the walk, and then signal me when they were in visual range of the witch. I would screech into the intercom and my screech and (then) high pitched voice would come OUT of the witch!
We made SO many children scream, and many ran away without getting their candy. And, as with all great things and accomplishments, there were ‘detractors’. I can’t tell you just how many parents came back with their children to ‘bark’ @ my father for "scar(ing) my children half to death!". And here WE thought that was the point of Halloween! I mean, the children all got their candy, and we generally gave out the nice ‘name brand’ candies; M&Ms and peanut butter cups and the like. But each and every year my father and I would build a witch, and make her talk and scare the neighborhood children "half to death".
Every Christmas we would get on ladders and hang lights on the eves and around the doors and the garage. We would put the tree in the front room of the house, right inside the bay window. I think I gained a feeling that, to be a ‘good neighbor’ you must contribute to the holiday season in your community. It was not enough to just decorate for the family, being a good member of the community meant you went that extra step. You got creative and tried, each year, to do something different and, bring life to the holidays. Now that I think about it, I think my father and his standard for entertaining the community at the holidays just might be where I started getting my sense of ‘showmanship’!
In school, I was a different boy. I didn’t like standing out. I didn’t like drawing attention to myself. While in Houston, it didn’t do too well in school. I mean, I generally passed and held my own, but nothing until I found choir. I remember being in choir in elementary school @ Madding Elementary. And, again, I didn’t stand out but I was part of entertaining the community. Through choir I was giving back to the school and community and being a part of something much large than myself in the process.
Then, suddenly, the Hanning family was out on the weekends looking for a new home. I understood why, I had listened to my parents talk and watched on TV as there were riots at the school my older brother Darrell was attending. It scared me a lot. I loved my brother Darrell; I still do, but back then…well. Darrell taught me; how to tie my shoes, how to play checkers and then chess. We shared the same room, until after we moved to Pearland and well… to me Darrell hung the moon.
Here is where I have more than a little whole in my memory. I don’t remember the family moving, I don’t remember when we first got there, and I have only vague memories of elementary school. I remember being sick a lot, when we first got there. I remember the smell of cloves in the choir room in the old elementary school. And one other thing; I distinctly remember feeling safer in Pearland. I remember my grades improved. The next block of memories I have, was starting at the new middle school. And, that, my kind readers, is where we will take this story up on Friday.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for supporting my cause. Thank you for caring
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That, My Dear Readers, brings us to the end of today’s edition of ‘The Story of Daniel’. I am seeing just how short these chapters, are, and I am thinking that I am going to share more than one in the future. I hope that you, My Dear Readers, enjoy these looks back on my life and on my writing at this blog! That’s right, these articles were written by me, Danny Hanning, two years ago. My, how my writing style has changed and improved. My Dear Readers, I cannot stress just now difficult the past decade has been for me. Being struck by a falling typewriter (back in 1987) set it all in motion, and from 2000 on I have been plagued with failing health, growing tremendous pain, and progressively decreasing mobility.
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In spite of all of that I have done my best to keep busy… to “Keep Moving Forward!”. Now, I have been hit below the belt with Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma CANCER! With limited to Spartan resources, my battle might well be quite short. With your, My Dear Readers, HELP? I stand a fighting chance of beating my cancer and not damaging my body, my liver, my kidneys… due to a lack of proper nutrition and proper amounts of fluids. I am NOT lying. I DO lack the money to purchase these ITEMS.
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Thank you for dropping by… and PLEASE CONSIDER DONATING TO Danny’s Cancer Treatment Fund @ Indiegogo![4]
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Adieu!
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Thank YOU!
PLEASE DONATE to
Danny's Cancer Treatment Fund @ Indiegogo
[caption id="attachment_3338" align="aligncenter" width="225"]
Danny in Rolling Hills Estates August 12, 2014[/caption]PLEASE GIVE!?!
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© 2010 – 2014 Hanning Web Wurx and The Other Shoe
[…] The Story of Daniel – Part Two – REDUX! : “The holidays, for the Hanning family, were an enjoyable and busy time. Starting in October, when the air became crisp and temperatures dropped, my father added a new duty to his agenda. He took on the creation and display of festive and seasonal decorations. Though my father never talked of it openly, he loved the holiday season. Oh, not shopping and not the cooking (that was Mother’s job), he just loved decorating the house for the neighbors. It almost seemed as though he regarded it as some ‘social responsibility’ to provide eye candy for the community and neighbors. I never sensed he thought of it as; an obligation or competition it was his way of expressing himself. My father didn’t sing or dance or anything of that nature. Yes, he sang hymns at South Park Baptist Church but you would never see him bursting into song around the house of neighborhood.” My father could have spent his free time, around the holidays, relaxing and enjoying time spent with family. Not my father, he spent is free time setting about wonderful and entertaining decorations and automated displays. He really sought to bring joy and happiness to his friends and neighbors. I have a great deal of respect for him, in that regard. My father was a man of the community and he sought always to give back to those around him. A habit I picked up, and used my singing and acting abilities to follow in his footsteps. […]
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