This is going to sound cheesy: I love listening to different types of music: I have an Sirius XM radio in my truck and I also have a portable one too. I love listening to jazz, Watercolors (jazz); I love that Spa station (don't laugh, it's very relaxing).
I saw my parents today for the first time in years. They came up from Texas because we were having a wake (tonight); funeral tomorrow. I told them I had surgery...and why. They were quiet. My dad was previously married to the love of his life and a female drunk rammed our car and killed my mother. I was 3; brother was 5, older sister was 7; youngest sister: 14 months. She went through the windshield; mom was killed. That accident was the cause of the ACDF surgery. My mom went through the windshield with my 14 month old baby sister. All of us survived, except my mom. That was 1971. Now you can how long I've been living with pain. The MRIs starting telling the story of my life...and in May, 2022. It came to a head that required surgery. I didn't tell them that I had major. My dad stared at me. I told him I didn't want him to worry about
me. More radio silence. I learned more about
what I was doing when the accident happened: me and my other brother were asleep in the backseat and I think that although that was a terrible event, if I was awake I might've stiffened up my muscles, freaked out and the damage and trauma would've been. As it happened, I was able to have a somewhat regular childhood. Played sports. Love fishing. But as I got to college, all hell started to break lose and the pain started coming. Then in my 29s, I was in the military. They still took you then, especially if you had a great SAT and ASVAB score. Then in my 30s the pain kept getting worse. Grinned and beared it. Forties, more pain. Severe pain. Slow onset of numbing. Until my 50s, when I started really understanding my MRIs and started seeing specialist, neurosurgeons and the rest is history. But tonight, at my uncle's wake, I told my dad that that was the beginning of lifelong struggle with pain.
We both hugged each other and we both told each that we loved each. And it felt genuine.
He used to take me fishing as a little boy. Pick me up and put me in the front see of white pickup truck and we'd ride through small town USA, with the radio going. That's me. That's who I am. And that is very relaxing for me to take those trips back down memory lane.
But as you probably guessed, I'm considered the one that if I don't show up Thanksgiving, no one else. My cousin Tia, was coaxing me to go over to my aunt's house (she lost her husband). I said are you going to go. She said, No...not if you don't go. And so I'm getting back in touch with all of my siblings in family members and it actually feels good. If I had to do it all over again, and we were on better terms...I would told my sister, who is 14 months behind (she's the one who went through the windshield.....and lived). We're very close. I think everytime there's a funeral, it makes people look at their lives and appreciate who's really truly around you.
Stray, I completely forgot my job listening to my dad talk about
a plumbing incident that happened at our family's business or the fact that he can't take down trees encroaching on his property. Stray, I want to him a secret and take those big trees down as father and son. I'm his youngest son and we've always been very close and I've been very protective of him. I saw him tonight. He's 80 now. Please tell me that soon, I can help by climbing trees, cutting branches, wedging and roping trees because they want to charge him over $10,000 to take them down and I screamed that ****in' bullcrap. I want to do it for him. It's important to rekindle that relationship with him and have that quality time to some of those things around the house that he can't do because it doesn't make sense or for his age.
I feel like I'm waiting for the all clear sign from the P/T and I just want to show up, unannounced ready to help with chain saw and ropes, or hit the boat and go deep sea fishing again. I feel like I don't want to waste anymore time with him. Wash his truck. Steal by brother's ATV. Shovel ice and snow down our long driveway.
That's what I do for fun as a country boy.
Coming back to life (reality), I had P/T last Friday and I was flat on my back all weekend with gel ice packs all weekend. It's been one month now of P/T and I still need ice.
Before the surgery, my girlfriend and I like to hike on the weekends; travel to tropical destinations. I'd love to go roller-skating again. We both like to be very fit as you know: She kicks me out and her and her gf who introduced us, do weekend Tai-Bo kickboxing training all Saturday long. I got into serious weightlifting and light cardio training and finally, get together with a few close friends on a secret dinner night out. Here's how it works: I tell my buddy, who food I want to eat; he and his wife find the restaurant. I'm not allowed to know what the restaurant is or where the restaurant is. We show up at their house. Leave my car. Jump in their car...and arrive at a restaurant. The men take turns picking the wines and we order off of the menu. Then "I" get to grade the restaurant! We've been doing this for more than 20 yrs. and now all the restaurants in the DC/MD/VA area know who we are because we are motley crew coming through their doors. I'm white; My gf is also white. He's Black his wife is Asian and is the "keeper of the book". It has gotten to the point where we go into a restaurant and read my rating. Weird, they never like to see how we rated them.... it's always how we rate someone else. And as soon as they see this interesting demographic group come though, we get going with a good time.
Did that answer your question? Now can you see why I didn't want to do the surgery? I'd miss out on all of that. But yet, I just told my parents I'm glad I did it. 100%
Post Edited (Texas4Life) : 10/5/2022 10:27:59 PM (GMT-7)