You know, the more I write the more I wonder why the fuck I am not writing more frequently, but also I notice some of the things I have written lately I have repeated in terms of sentiment and meaning. Always to help, never to hinder, anyone who knows me this is who I am--very concerned about everyone doing as well as I think everyone deserves to do. The advice below is perhaps a good overarcing of how to deal with shitty things that can happen to us. It has worked for me at points, but clearly I am not adverse to being human or admitting my own bullshit because I just don't care enough about what anyone thinks to bother hiding. Anyways, check it out:
I think there are some things that make heart disease and all disease especially devastating to who we thought we were. We all had plans for other things for our lives and clearly your aorta exploding impedes a lot of facets and can leave people totally bewildered by their body's betrayal of their own plans. Most people didn't do years of cocaine to accelerate this, but everyone has lived their own lives ...
So I got a hold of my friend who has helped make this happen and I have a pretty spectacular plan. Some of you may remember the site I built because I wanted to be a facilitator of aid to those who suffered from heart and aortic conditions I guess more succinctly. There were no scholarships for those who endured this stuff--so I had the tshirts, hell I still have a ton--but I was trying to sell them on the site and start a fund. I sold two, so you all know how well that went. Then I used that to help myself because whatever world...I have had to learn to expect and own nothing in the United States of America and yeah, I still have enormous debts, and yes, I still will never have peace of mind, because that is what illness allows you the ability to enjoy in this country.
I won nothing with the Powerball, but boy did I have plans to help many.
In any case the site is getting totally revamped over the weekend. I am separating the blogs out to the scars because really, that is what those blogs seem to illuminate the most--the ...
Well guys, that thing I mentioned I might elaborate on later came to fruition, sending me into a bit of a tailspin.
So my experience with my first surgeries and the like traced back to that rowdy month, October 1995 when my first dissections ripped through my body and altered my path forever. When I first came to, they were trying to find the why because it was a teaching hospital after all. Marfans was thrown around a bit, and some other connective tissue disorders I didn't really fall directly inline with--they thought I had Marfans but when I didn't develop much aside from the dissections, well then it became a, well it probably is a genetic thing, and thinking about what I did know, being Dutch and all, the natural evolution of my thought was that it was my mother's side that had the faulty genes. She had a story of a great uncle that had probably died of one, and she was kind of gangly and had too long arms for her body so some of physical affects outward didn't totally deter me from thinking the Dutch side was directly responsible for the gene issue.
Now fast forward almost 25 ...
