33 1/3

Have you ever seen a radiation mask? They look like old hockey masks, like the one Jason Vorhees wears, except these are custom molded and have latches on the side that lock into the bed of a radiation machine. I suppose its important to restrict your mobility when the room is turned into a life-sized microwave.  

The rays in there weren’t physically visible or painful, but I could still feel and hear them. I swear I could. If I closed my eyes at just the right moment, I could even see little flashes of light escaping my eyelids. But this was the extent to which I felt the therapy. 15 minutes later, the Megatron had finished its daily orbit around my skull and delivered its dose of radiation.

I could lie and say that I made use of the time. That the flashes of light under my eyelids were inspirational. That I used the Megatron’s time in orbit to meditate and ponder life. 

Its not that I didn’t try. I tried insanely hard. It just didn’t happen. 

All I really wanted was to be somewhere else. That’s where all my thoughts went to: somewhere else. And before I knew it, the session was over, saved by the clock once again. 

Every now and then, I close my eyes and wake up inside the microwave. A masked reflection laid out across the Megatron. Locked, motionless, thoughtless. 

Admittedly, I tense up a bit. I clench and freak out about not making the best use of my time. Painfully ironic.

One foot on the grave

My head troubles are slightly more aggressive than previously thought. Still good, just, you know, not as good.

They’re the type news you don’t want to receive. You don’t want to be around for them. You don’t want to publicize them in any way. How do you casually bring them up in conversation? How do you look at your loved ones in the eye and tell them you will need additional treatments? That it’s somehow, possibly, worse?

I need to put everyone else I care about through more? F*ck.

But we’ve all got our personal horrors to deal with, our own complex problems to face. They seem unapproachable, uncompromisable, and unsolvable. If we let them, they consume everyone and everything. They warrant a reaction no matter what. This is mine.

Throw it at me.

Cluster Fuck

Disclaimer: This piece was written over the multiple hospital stays in the past weeks. It purposely remains unedited and largely pointless. But it came from somewhere. I’d be doing a disservice to myself if I didn’t share it.

My head is killing me. For the second time in 2 years, it has literally been split in two. It is being held together by a few staples, the steroids help with the swelling and inflammation, and the antibiotics help with all the gunk thats been introduced to my body. Plus the painkillers are a necessary evil, I don’t think there’s a way I could support the inherent tension inside my head otherwise. I’m a bit unclear on size, but I know there’s a void in there, I can feel it. 

I’m a medical marvel, really. It’s all rather confusing and overwhelming. I don’t know what to think or what to feel. Except that for now, for this moment, this nightmare has passed. It’s over. 

Really, what more thought should there be than that ? At one point, you have to consider the scope becomes too large for ambition, too large to manage, and back in the circle we go. Just another cogs in the machine, if you will. At a time like this, I refuse to consider that possibility. I refuse to fall back into that cycle. 

To everyone that has reached out. Thank you. Your kind wishes and words do not go unnoticed. Believe me when I say that this experience has taught me to try and be the bigger person. Not for your sake, but for mine. I have very little say in how you should manage. If there is a piece of advice I could offer is that very little matters when you’re buckling down in an emergency room bed, begging for your next shot of morphine to help ease the pain, however little it may actually do to help

I guess that’s the ultimate point. Being wise enough to choose your battles. In a perfect world, we would always have this special ability, this magical foresight that allows us to meticulously choose and derive how we feel, before coming to a decision. But we both know this world is far from perfect. We’re far for perfect.

More importantly, it’s not to be made an excuse. Rather taken as an opportunity. You want to cope with yourself. You want to cope with others and I say this within reason. You’re ultimately the one in charge of your decisions and your feelings.

We all have, have had, and will continue to have our faults. They’re facts of life. But it doesn’t have to remain that way. Of course, this is where the hard part comes in. You have to be willing, you have to be succumbing to some change.  So try not to be a crappy person. It doesn’t help anyone. Not even you. 

I look forward to getting some much deserved rest and showing myself what a great person can be, even when I don’t fit the mold of a model citizen. That stuff is overrated and outdated anyway.  

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but I do

Your dreams and fantasies never consider the full realities of life. It’s impossible.

Because there’s no way of knowing what the future holds. Because there’s no way of knowing how the past has affected it. Because reality can change in an instant.

It’s fluid and unpredictable. There’s no warning. No guarantee.  

It’s a completely unknown void. Take it as you will.

This isn’t the type of announcement I had in mind

But it’s here and it’s unavoidable. I’m headed for an additional head surgery on November 14th.

Even though the possibility of recurrence was always present, I automatically moved past it. You don’t think about that sort of thing very often. Plus I’ll have you know, my prognosis is amazing. 

Still though, fuck. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.

My conscious self focuses on it about 10 times a day. My subconscious self hasn’t stopped processing it since I received the news. Overall though, I‘ve never been better. Life’s never been greater. It’s important for me that you know that.

As much as I want to end this by wishing you Jabronies well, I’d first like to say thanks.

Thanks to those who have read and continue to read through the site. Thanks to those that follow updates. Thanks to those that have put up stickers and tags all around the digital & analog world. Thanks to those that have encouraged me to pursue more, and thanks to the 2 grammar narcs that have made the effort to correct me via mail.

It wouldn’t be the same without you.

P.S. There will be a delay in ALL my responses. This is not a reflection of our relationship, I just have slightly more demanding things going on.

Catch you on the flippity-flip, you Jabronies.

June 30th, 2018. 7:45am.

I hadn’t dreamt that night, and when I woke, I was confused. It had been months since I slept comfortably in my bed. Of course this time, I had slept at a small incline and with a neck brace. The irony.

First, I questioned reality. I wondered if this had all been a dream. Not a bad dream, just a very interesting one. A very detailed one too.

That wasn’t true. I had the scars to show for my ordeal. 

Then I thought:

What if I had brain surgery to receive an implant? What if i’ve been wiped clean and I’m one of the bad guys? Or what if I’m one of the human batteries from The Matrix and this really is a dream constructed by our robot overlords?

And the memories, were the memories real?

But in seconds, I snapped out of it. 

See, this experience has helped me accept that time is a relative thing. Save for a few distinct memories, everything else from my stay is a collection of screenshots.

Oddly, this holds true for much of my life.