Doc asks me how I feel and I tell him “like a guy who lay down in a river of blood, but I am still standing.”
Inside my head I hear someone reciting If Tomorrow Starts Without Me and realize how much time I have been putting into thoughts of dying and what happens if the cause of my anemia is something serious.
I am not bothered by what it could be as much as I am by not knowing the cause because I am ready to fight.
Part of me laughs at how dramatic it sounds while another part remembers being confused by how long the ride in the ambulance was taking.
I can hear the paramedics saying they are taking me to Grapevine because it is after 2 am and there are surgeons available to operate on me if needed.
It took a moment for me to recognize things must be pretty serious.
I remember the conversation with the paramedics, the questions they asked and their telling me they were going to give me TXA to stop the bleeding but the severity didn’t sink in.
It wasn’t until the ER doc said I needed a transfusion or I might die that I started to realize how dire things must have looked to others.
They didn’t know I had already decided to live and that what I most disliked at that moment was feeling embarrassed by my situation and the lack of control.
If this is new to you and you want to try to catch up you can try reading one of the following past posts or you can keep rolling along and see where the yellow brick road takes you.
It Is The Privilege Of Not Dying
We’re Strangers With Memories…Now
It’s Hard To Fight With One Arm
The Dreams In Which I Am Dying…
When A Zionist Meets The Devil
The friendly man online asks if I know what happens when a Zionist meets the devil and I don’t miss a beat.
“My name’s Johnny and it might be a sinBut I’m gon’ take your bet and you’re gonna regretI’m the best there’s ever been”
I laugh at the keyboard thinking about how the other guy probably won’t get the reference but I don’t care.
He thinks his weak insults and threats of damnation are meaningful but he doesn’t know they’re not new to me. This is not my first engagement with a guy who has trouble tying his Velcro shoes nor will it be the last.
I don’t hide who I am or what I believe in. I am very secure in my beliefs not because of indoctrination but education and a willingness to challenge myself.
A willingness to periodically ask if I have adopted the correct position or if I need to rethink things. I don’t live in a world of black and white absolutes with the exception of a few areas.
Been politically homeless for quite some time now because the tribal politics of the last however many years irks me. The need to get one over on the other side even if it hurts people disgusts and disappoints me.
I have learned of the importance and need to focus on my fellow MOTs because that’s where tribal politics are of primary import. Because we’re being targeted and hunted in multiple places.
That’s not me being dramatic or engaging in hyperbole. If you look at recent events in England it is not hard to find news reports of stabbing attacks on Jews, firebombings of ambulances, attacks on synagogues and multiple other events.
It is not hard to find tales of similar events elsewhere.
So part of what I do is stand with my community and encourage people to be loud and proud. Now is not the time to shrink and hide but to stand tall.
We don’t claim to be better than any other but neither do we accept being treated as the other. The Jew haters need to understand they are not going to be any more successful this generation than they have at any other time.
Ask the Babylonians, Romans, Pharaoh or the Nazis how coming for us worked out for them. It will be the same now.
But it does disappoint me to see this ancient hatred rear its head and to experience things that my great grandparents and grandparents knew.
It irritates me that my children, niece and nephews don’t get to grow up in the same world I did but I am not one to lie down and blindly accept what is fed to me.
So we push back and we take a proactive approach to building a better world not just for us but for all.
I’m Not Bucky
The doc asks how I tore the tendon and I tell him it was the final rep of my final set of preacher curls.
“I was curling more than I have in years but less than I did when I was 20. Aging isn’t easy.”
He nods, smiles and tells me the scar doesn’t look too bad.
I nod and ask for a run down on what we need to do figure out the cause of the anemia.
A week or so goes by and I am standing in a Texas Oncology facility because I have been referred to a hematologist. They told me in advance not to worry about the “oncology” part of the name.
I am mostly ok with it, the name doesn’t mean I have some kind of cancer. This could be basic iron deficiency anemia.
The phlebotomist tells me I have great veins and I watch her load up on samples for blood work. Won’t be long before I go back for five sessions of Iron infusions.
I am anxious to get started because the fatigue from being anemic is a pain-in-my-ass. I mostly do what I want but I feel the need to close my eyes for a few minutes more often than I want.
I am not Bucky Barnes and I don’t have a cool mechanical arm nor have I gotten the super soldier serum so my left arm is weak.
Can’t decide if it looks smaller than the right but within two weeks I can start lifting real weights with it again.
In a week I’ll officially turn 57 and I’m chomping at the bit to get back to full body workouts. I am convinced that exercise is why I am still here and I didn’t die in October.
My legs didn’t want to cooperate so I pulled myself off of the floor using arm strength.
I have plans for the future. I didn’t go through that hell or any of what has followed to just pass the days.
The hardest part of the present is waiting for answers on some big questions so I know what direction I need to head in.
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