A Bit of Sanity
Contagion....I exhale you
TOOL - "Fear Inoculum" - Fear Inoculum - 2019
After spending far too much of about 45 years fighting The Flozberk Way and 39 years fighting severe chronic pain from my hunting accident, I was ill and exhausted literally almost to death when things crescendoed late in Dad's life. Sanity seemed a million miles away.
Thankfully, sanity showed itself on what very unexpectedly turned out the last full lucid day of Dad's life and my first foray as an adult into something resembling a heavily sane world, free of The Flozberk Way, was just around the corner.
Me Feely....Sort of Good
It took a while for the sanity to sink in, for when you've been neck-deep in madness for generations, it doesn't just wash off. But, when it did, it was glorious, reminiscent of how wrongly-convicted people describe release from a long prison sentence.
Everything was different, with bad things suddenly not so bad and good things much better. A new world slowly eased into panoramic view.
In the first part of the journey, I staggered to the mountains, far from and high above the cyclone of Flozberk agony. My dear friend Joe helped nurse me back from the abyss (gracias, hermano) in strikingly beautiful, harsh, rustic surroundings far from any mobile towers or internet service.
The plan was to heal a bit, then dive back into the fray so that I and mine would not get nailed by The Flozberk Machine.
However, Joe, a brilliant man, suggested I disengage from FlozberkWorld, back off, see what happens, and work to regain my shattered health while using my resources to position us for total life success while laying the framework for crushing, massive, broad, lasting domination of The Flozzies, both offensively and defensively, should it become an issue.
That turned out to be great advice and a net gain regardless of how other matters play out. Forward I pushed after opting to give up my beloved guitar playing and bass fishing for a year. There was simply not enough room in one life for that which faced me, so it was either half-ass everything or kick-ass somethings.
Miracle in a Whatever-the-Hell-it-is-Bottle
Soon after returning home and tending to the end of Tasha's dog life, we went shopping to replace Lisa's fancy red water bottle. On Dad's last full day of life, headed home from the tense, sad gathering, I became too ill to keep driving. We pulled over at the lake to gather ourselves at a picnic table and I think the bottle was left there.
So what? It's just a water bottle, right?
Nope. Entering the store, I happened across a super-cool old friend from college. We instantly recognized one another, hit it off just as we did in the 1980s, and got together that night, unhampered by the fierce academic grind that tripped us up before. That resulted in a fantastic life-changing business partnership, access to connections far beyond my wildest dreams, and inclusion into a kick-ass new family that functions flawlessly.
Very likely closer to death than birth, I've been adopted!
Losing that overpriced water bottle was like winning the lottery. I forget where the thing came from and still don't know where it went, but all I can say now is, "Bless you, dear red water bottle."
As a result, Red Bottle Productions was born.
Me No Feely So Good
Working hard to get us set up for old age while also packing the war chest with a huge range of diverse ammo for the likely-coming Flozberk Fracas, I felt much better than during the near-mortal, Flozzie-fueled decline of 2018, but still, something was not right. In fact, I'd not felt right for many years, but I chalked it up to age, stress, and dealing with my mangled leg.
The more time passed, the clearer it was I had a serious problem, so an answer was sought.
As that process unfolded, on 09/08/21 a moron slammed into me blindside at a Between the Buried and Me gig in Houston, even though there was no mosh going on. It took all my self control to not snap his damn fool neck.
After that, my condition quickly deteriorated and the search for the culprit expanded.
Me REALLY No Feely So Good
My ability to function was whole-hog slipping away like in 2018, but worse. Strange pains moved throughout my torso with other pains and odd sensations around my jaw and the left side of my neck. Food and pills started getting stuck in my throat and my throat hurt if I spoke or sang loudly for more than a few seconds.
Obviously, things were getting scary. I was a smoker for 46 years - first choking on Mom and Dad's smoke throughout childhood, then taking up the insanity myself from 1983-2014. Marlboro reds, soft pack. Yikes!
I soon got some answers - on 11/01/21, I rushed home from Touchstone Diagnostic Imaging with a disk of several studies. Familiar with medical imaging, I dug up a now-largely-obsolete optical drive, fired up the disc, and, well....
Immediately my heart sank. I know a catastrophic MRI when I see it. Bummer :(
Turned out there were several serious concerns. It's a damn good thing I pursued diagnosis when I did, or what chances I do have would likely have been lost.
Yes, 2022 was shaping up to be another challenging year in a very challenging life, but that's OK. People get sick. People get hurt. People die sooner than they'd hoped. Next to being mired in a badly dysfuntional family, medical drama is a cakewalk.
I'm at peace, free of fear, and have seen and done much more than I ever thought possible. So, bring it!
I am ready.
To be continued...