ONCE UPON A TIME, there was a boy who didn't like himself very much. It was not his fault. He was born with cerebral palsy. Cerebral palsy is something that happens to the brain. It means that you can think but sometimes can't walk, or even talk. This boy had a very bad case of cerebral palsy, and when he was still a little boy, some of the people entrusted to take care of him took advantage of him instead and did things to him that made him think that he was a very bad little boy, because only a bad little boy would have to live with the things he had to live with. In fact, when the little boy grew up to be a teenager, he would get so mad at himself that he would hit himself, hard, with his own fists and tell his mother, on the computer he used for a mouth, that he didn't want to live anymore, for he was sure that God didn't like what was inside him any more than he did. He had always loved Mister Rogers, though, and now, even when he was fourteen years old, he watched the Neighborhood whenever it was on, and the boy's mother sometimes thought that Mister Rogers was keeping her son alive. She and the boy lived together in a city in California, and although she wanted very much for her son to meet Mister Rogers, she knew that he was far too disabled to travel all the way to Pittsburgh, so she figured he would never meet his hero, until one day she learned through a special foundation designed to help children like her son that Mister Rogers was coming to California and that after he visited the gorilla named Koko, he was coming to meet her son.
At first, the boy was made very nervous by the thought that Mister Rogers was visiting him. He was so nervous, in fact, that when Mister Rogers did visit, he got mad at himself and began hating himself and hitting himself, and his mother had to take him to another room and talk to him. Mister Rogers didn't leave, though. He wanted something from the boy, and Mister Rogers never leaves when he wants something from somebody. He just waited patiently, and when the boy came back, Mister Rogers talked to him, and then he made his request. He said, "I would like you to do something for me. Would you do something for me?" On his computer, the boy answered yes, of course, he would do anything for Mister Rogers, so then Mister Rogers said, "I would like you to pray for me. Will you pray for me?" And now the boy didn't know how to respond. He was thunderstruck. Thunderstruck means that you can't talk, because something has happened that's as sudden and as miraculous and maybe as scary as a bolt of lightning, and all you can do is listen to the rumble. The boy was thunderstruck because nobody had ever asked him for something like that, ever. The boy had always been prayed for. The boy had always been the object of prayer, and now he was being asked to pray for Mister Rogers, and although at first he didn't know if he could do it, he said he would, he said he'd try, and ever since then he keeps Mister Rogers in his prayers and doesn't talk about wanting to die anymore, because he figures Mister Rogers is close to God, and if Mister Rogers likes him, that must mean God likes him, too.
As for Mister Rogers himself…well, he doesn't look at the story in the same way that the boy did or that I did. In fact, when Mister Rogers first told me the story, I complimented him on being so smart—for knowing that asking the boy for his prayers would make the boy feel better about himself—and Mister Rogers responded by looking at me at first with puzzlement and then with surprise. "Oh, heavens no, Tom! I didn't ask him for his prayers for him; I asked for me. I asked him because I think that anyone who has gone through challenges like that must be very close to God. I asked him because I wanted his intercession."
I tend to be screwed up in the emotional department as well, and I've tried the "Consume emotional media to trigger a response" thing, and it doesn't really work. What works is experiencing real trauma. I cried a couple weeks ago. Here's why:
My oldest brother/father figure was diagnosed with colon cancer on July 23rd, at the age of 39. I defaulted to feeling numb, like I always do. As his surgery date approached, it started to hit me, but in a peculiar way.
See, I was born with Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita, which is a muscular/skeletal condition resulting in contractures, deformities, and all that jazz. I've had somewhere around 43 surgeries, the vast majority when I was very young. I use an electric wheelchair for mobility, need assistance with all activities of daily living, have constant pressure sores, etc. While I accept my disability, it has affected me in ways I can't begin to verbalize mentally, a lot of it not at a conscious level.
So, as my brother neared surgery, it just hit me. I've always believed that the pain, and fear, and weakness, and loss of ability associated with non-trivial medical things is supposed to be my burden. That if I go through it, no one I care about will have to. I know it's utterly irrational, but it's just something I must have told myself as a kid, and it stuck.
I just felt like it should've been me, and that I'd gladly take his place if I could.
Man... I teared up just writing that. It might not sound like much, but I feel it in the core of my being.
Thankfully, my brother's surgery went off without a hitch and his prognosis looks good. He dodged a bullet, as the tumor was contained in the colon by the last layer of tissue, and while they removed the surrounding lymph nodes, they looked clean. He's back home and will likely start post-op chemo in 3-4 weeks.
I learnt some neat crying science the other day, now I wish I could find the link.
But actual tears, release chemicals, both flush them out of your brain and trigger separate ones that induce euphoric states/ease tension, so letting it out is good.
The weird part tho, fake tears will not do this, onions, pulling a nose hair, etc.
I tend to be screwed up in the emotional department as well, and I've tried the "Consume emotional media to trigger a response" thing, and it doesn't really work. What works is experiencing real trauma. I cried a couple weeks ago. Here's why:
My oldest brother/father figure was diagnosed with colon cancer on July 23rd, at the age of 39. I defaulted to feeling numb, like I always do. As his surgery date approached, it started to hit me, but in a peculiar way.
See, I was born with Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita, which is a muscular/skeletal condition resulting in contractures, deformities, and all that jazz. I've had somewhere around 43 surgeries, the vast majority when I was very young. I use an electric wheelchair for mobility, need assistance with all activities of daily living, have constant pressure sores, etc. While I accept my disability, it has affected me in ways I can't begin to verbalize mentally, a lot of it not at a conscious level.
So, as my brother neared surgery, it just hit me. I've always believed that the pain, and fear, and weakness, and loss of ability associated with non-trivial medical things is supposed to be my burden. That if I go through it, no one I care about will have to. I know it's utterly irrational, but it's just something I must have told myself as a kid, and it stuck.
I just felt like it should've been me, and that I'd gladly take his place if I could.
Man... I teared up just writing that. It might not sound like much, but I feel it in the core of my being.
Thankfully, my brother's surgery went off without a hitch and his prognosis looks good. He dodged a bullet, as the tumor was contained in the colon by the last layer of tissue, and while they removed the surrounding lymph nodes, they looked clean. He's back home and will likely start post-op chemo in 3-4 weeks.
For some reason, martyrdom and sacrifice just really get to me. Any time I see a news story about a firefighter who dies on duty it just give me a throat lump. Those 19 firemen who died in Prescott in July was a good example.
Basically anything about abused dogs gets me instantaneously. How people can be so brutal to dogs is completely unfathomable to me. Like that video about those beagles. How can we call ourselves an evolved, moral species when we do shit like that to animals that, really, will love you unconditionally just for feeding and being decent to them. And on that note, I really, really miss having dogs in the house, to the point where I'm thinking about putting up flyers for a free dog walking service just so I can hang out with dogs more often.
It gets me everytime too. My mother helps foster abandoned cats and dogs and some of the things we've seen have been heartbreaking.
Dog-walking is a great idea, either that or if you have a local animal shelter or SPCA they are always looking for volunteers for dog walking I find.
If that's the case, I will be making a phone call pretty soon here to see how I can help. I've actually been giving a lot of thought recently to volunteering some of my time to a shelter, but wasn't sure if I could handle the soul crushing of getting close to dogs only to know they've been put down.
I tend to be screwed up in the emotional department as well, and I've tried the "Consume emotional media to trigger a response" thing, and it doesn't really work. What works is experiencing real trauma. I cried a couple weeks ago. Here's why:
My oldest brother/father figure was diagnosed with colon cancer on July 23rd, at the age of 39. I defaulted to feeling numb, like I always do. As his surgery date approached, it started to hit me, but in a peculiar way.
See, I was born with Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita, which is a muscular/skeletal condition resulting in contractures, deformities, and all that jazz. I've had somewhere around 43 surgeries, the vast majority when I was very young. I use an electric wheelchair for mobility, need assistance with all activities of daily living, have constant pressure sores, etc. While I accept my disability, it has affected me in ways I can't begin to verbalize mentally, a lot of it not at a conscious level.
So, as my brother neared surgery, it just hit me. I've always believed that the pain, and fear, and weakness, and loss of ability associated with non-trivial medical things is supposed to be my burden. That if I go through it, no one I care about will have to. I know it's utterly irrational, but it's just something I must have told myself as a kid, and it stuck.
I just felt like it should've been me, and that I'd gladly take his place if I could.
Man... I teared up just writing that. It might not sound like much, but I feel it in the core of my being.
Thankfully, my brother's surgery went off without a hitch and his prognosis looks good. He dodged a bullet, as the tumor was contained in the colon by the last layer of tissue, and while they removed the surrounding lymph nodes, they looked clean. He's back home and will likely start post-op chemo in 3-4 weeks.
Good lord, colon cancer at 39? Seems like over half of the stories I've seen about colon cancer are happening to people well below 50, so why are we only recommending colonoscopies at 50? Because it's somewhat invasive and people are all weird about their anus? Props to your brother for getting it detected that early, and double props for getting it all sorted out!
Good lord, colon cancer at 39? Seems like over half of the stories I've seen about colon cancer are happening to people well below 50, so why are we only recommending colonoscopies at 50? Because it's somewhat invasive and people are all weird about their anus? Props to your brother for getting it detected that early, and double props for getting it all sorted out!
With the extensive family history of colon cancer on my mom's side, it looks like we have Lynch Syndrome. I'm the youngest of three boys. Like I said, the oldest has/had it. The middle sibling (age 37) had a colonoscopy just to check. They found two polyps (path lab results not back yet), and the doctor was amazed. Said that she doesn't normally see that until people are in their 50's. I'm going to have to ride the snake sometime soon, too (no date set yet due to the extra logistical things that go into anything regarding me). I'm only 33.
The middle sibling's two children are going to have to have yearly colonoscopies starting in their 20s.
Good lord, colon cancer at 39? Seems like over half of the stories I've seen about colon cancer are happening to people well below 50, so why are we only recommending colonoscopies at 50? Because it's somewhat invasive and people are all weird about their anus? Props to your brother for getting it detected that early, and double props for getting it all sorted out!
With the extensive family history of colon cancer on my mom's side, it looks like we have Lynch Syndrome. I'm the youngest of three boys. Like I said, the oldest has/had it. The middle sibling (age 37) had a colonoscopy just to check. They found two polyps (path lab results not back yet), and the doctor was amazed. Said that she doesn't normally see that until people are in their 50's. I'm going to have to ride the snake sometime soon, too (no date set yet due to the extra logistical things that go into anything regarding me). I'm only 33.
The middle sibling's two children are going to have to have yearly colonoscopies starting in their 20s.
I had my first one at 29, so they may have just tried to be gentler? But I found, while the scope was uncomfortable, the worst part is after. All that rootin around builds up air, and you will feel like you have the biggest fart in the world stuck in you, like to a painful degree.
Oh man, when that fart finally lets loose tho, it's a relief I can't even describe, altho, warn family members to run.
Good lord, colon cancer at 39? Seems like over half of the stories I've seen about colon cancer are happening to people well below 50, so why are we only recommending colonoscopies at 50? Because it's somewhat invasive and people are all weird about their anus? Props to your brother for getting it detected that early, and double props for getting it all sorted out!
With the extensive family history of colon cancer on my mom's side, it looks like we have Lynch Syndrome. I'm the youngest of three boys. Like I said, the oldest has/had it. The middle sibling (age 37) had a colonoscopy just to check. They found two polyps (path lab results not back yet), and the doctor was amazed. Said that she doesn't normally see that until people are in their 50's. I'm going to have to ride the snake sometime soon, too (no date set yet due to the extra logistical things that go into anything regarding me). I'm only 33.
The middle sibling's two children are going to have to have yearly colonoscopies starting in their 20s.
I had my first one at 29, so they may have just tried to be gentler? But I found, while the scope was uncomfortable, the worst part is after. All that rootin around builds up air, and you will feel like you have the biggest fart in the world stuck in you, like to a painful degree.
Oh man, when that fart finally lets loose tho, it's a relief I can't even describe, altho, warn family members to run.
colonoscopies are pretty easy to deal with now. They give you a shot of some kind of relaxation meds and an IV. I had one this year and I remember going into the room, talking with the doctor, then as soon as they pushed the plunger on the IV bag ...i felt less like i fell asleep but more like i had an alien lost time episode. I felt like i was resting, and i blinked and heard the doctors talking to the nurse but it didnt feel like time had passed between the moments, didnt feel a giant hose up my rear..blinked again, and they said 'done'...and i was like...wha?
The worse part honestly is the preperation. Liquid diet for like 2 days prior.
I apologize in advance for this. Because IMHO it might be the most bittersweet thing on the internet.
Those were nice but didn't really hit me. then I made the mistake of following a few links that were listed afterward.
This one just kicked me in the stomache at about 55 seconds in... im not even sure why. I guess im not old enough to have actually recognized his death as the major event it was when it happen. now that ive grown up watching old reruns and more its almost like someone just told me someone close to me died and it just is hitting me
Yeah... I held off on that one. It gets me too. The concept of a fictional character learning (in a weird way) about the death of their creator is just... I don't know. It's brave though.
There's no plan, there's no race to be run
The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun.
Sometimes I am at home going about my stuff and suddenly I realize that all human ambition and work is useless. That some day, whatever your achievements are, you could find yourself dying in some unfamiliar place, with your mind unable to recognize those worried-looking people around you that insist are your wife and your kids, and wondering if your parents are going to come soon and take care of you, because you are feeling kinda sick. Even worse I think it could be my SO in that situation. Then I cry for a while.
I think I'm a bit wrong in the head, because I tend to have those thoughts with some regularity. But I thought it may help.
Also, abandoned dogs incapable of understanding the cause of their situation, not knowing what and how happened, they just know that someone they adored left them and they are not even angry at them, or disappointed, or that they meant to abandon the, they are just sad and confused about the whole thing.
You need to start turning that around. How is all human ambition and work useless? Are we still living in caves? have we not gone to the moon? Has our life span not increased due to the work of doctors? Do we not fly? Personally I live with the belief that even if there are people that just exist, there are still people who push humanity forward through that ambition and work that is the human spirit. Dont use that thought to be sad, use it to be happy. Spend a moment marveling at the wonders that have happen to bring us to what we are today and if you cry, let it be because of what the future will bring humanity that we will not get to see, far beyond the time that we currently living are dust. Thats what sci-fi is about in many ways.
Think of what we have accomplished in just 100 years compared to the thousands before that. no matter how many greedy, stupid people there are in the world, we manage somehow to eventually push forward.
You need to start turning that around. How is all human ambition and work useless? Are we still living in caves? have we not gone to the moon? Has our life span not increased due to the work of doctors? Do we not fly? Personally I live with the belief that even if there are people that just exist, there are still people who push humanity forward through that ambition and work that is the human spirit. Dont use that thought to be sad, use it to be happy. Spend a moment marveling at the wonders that have happen to bring us to what we are today and if you cry, let it be because of what the future will bring humanity that we will not get to see, far beyond the time that we currently living are dust. Thats what sci-fi is about in many ways.
Think of what we have accomplished in just 100 years compared to the thousands before that. no matter how many greedy, stupid people there are in the world, we manage somehow to eventually push forward.
Meh, it's not the part of human achievement. It's more the part of crippling mental ilness that slowly dissolves all that you are.
Posts
The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun.
See, I was born with Arthrogryposis Multiplex Congenita, which is a muscular/skeletal condition resulting in contractures, deformities, and all that jazz. I've had somewhere around 43 surgeries, the vast majority when I was very young. I use an electric wheelchair for mobility, need assistance with all activities of daily living, have constant pressure sores, etc. While I accept my disability, it has affected me in ways I can't begin to verbalize mentally, a lot of it not at a conscious level.
So, as my brother neared surgery, it just hit me. I've always believed that the pain, and fear, and weakness, and loss of ability associated with non-trivial medical things is supposed to be my burden. That if I go through it, no one I care about will have to. I know it's utterly irrational, but it's just something I must have told myself as a kid, and it stuck.
I just felt like it should've been me, and that I'd gladly take his place if I could.
Man... I teared up just writing that. It might not sound like much, but I feel it in the core of my being.
Thankfully, my brother's surgery went off without a hitch and his prognosis looks good. He dodged a bullet, as the tumor was contained in the colon by the last layer of tissue, and while they removed the surrounding lymph nodes, they looked clean. He's back home and will likely start post-op chemo in 3-4 weeks.
But actual tears, release chemicals, both flush them out of your brain and trigger separate ones that induce euphoric states/ease tension, so letting it out is good.
The weird part tho, fake tears will not do this, onions, pulling a nose hair, etc.
On that note...
The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun.
@Nightslyr hugs, dude.
Also, a high-five for your brother!
If that's the case, I will be making a phone call pretty soon here to see how I can help. I've actually been giving a lot of thought recently to volunteering some of my time to a shelter, but wasn't sure if I could handle the soul crushing of getting close to dogs only to know they've been put down.
Good lord, colon cancer at 39? Seems like over half of the stories I've seen about colon cancer are happening to people well below 50, so why are we only recommending colonoscopies at 50? Because it's somewhat invasive and people are all weird about their anus? Props to your brother for getting it detected that early, and double props for getting it all sorted out!
With the extensive family history of colon cancer on my mom's side, it looks like we have Lynch Syndrome. I'm the youngest of three boys. Like I said, the oldest has/had it. The middle sibling (age 37) had a colonoscopy just to check. They found two polyps (path lab results not back yet), and the doctor was amazed. Said that she doesn't normally see that until people are in their 50's. I'm going to have to ride the snake sometime soon, too (no date set yet due to the extra logistical things that go into anything regarding me). I'm only 33.
The middle sibling's two children are going to have to have yearly colonoscopies starting in their 20s.
I had my first one at 29, so they may have just tried to be gentler? But I found, while the scope was uncomfortable, the worst part is after. All that rootin around builds up air, and you will feel like you have the biggest fart in the world stuck in you, like to a painful degree.
Oh man, when that fart finally lets loose tho, it's a relief I can't even describe, altho, warn family members to run.
Georgia O'Keeffe
Be sure to like my Comic Book "Last Words" on facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Last-Words-The-Comic-Book/458405034287767
and Magenta the Witchgirl!: http://www.drunkduck.com/Magenta_the_Witchgirl/
colonoscopies are pretty easy to deal with now. They give you a shot of some kind of relaxation meds and an IV. I had one this year and I remember going into the room, talking with the doctor, then as soon as they pushed the plunger on the IV bag ...i felt less like i fell asleep but more like i had an alien lost time episode. I felt like i was resting, and i blinked and heard the doctors talking to the nurse but it didnt feel like time had passed between the moments, didnt feel a giant hose up my rear..blinked again, and they said 'done'...and i was like...wha?
The worse part honestly is the preperation. Liquid diet for like 2 days prior.
Those were nice but didn't really hit me. then I made the mistake of following a few links that were listed afterward.
This one just kicked me in the stomache at about 55 seconds in... im not even sure why. I guess im not old enough to have actually recognized his death as the major event it was when it happen. now that ive grown up watching old reruns and more its almost like someone just told me someone close to me died and it just is hitting me
The harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun.
I think I'm a bit wrong in the head, because I tend to have those thoughts with some regularity. But I thought it may help.
Also, abandoned dogs incapable of understanding the cause of their situation, not knowing what and how happened, they just know that someone they adored left them and they are not even angry at them, or disappointed, or that they meant to abandon the, they are just sad and confused about the whole thing.
Think of what we have accomplished in just 100 years compared to the thousands before that. no matter how many greedy, stupid people there are in the world, we manage somehow to eventually push forward.
Meh, it's not the part of human achievement. It's more the part of crippling mental ilness that slowly dissolves all that you are.