Neanderpundit

Coffee goes in. Coffee comes out. The color and texture are not dramatically affected.

There. Coffee crapblogging.

I am feeling about 95% right now, maybe even a little bit more than that. I’m excited to go back to work in the morning.

I do not do illness graciously. Nor incapacitance. (Dolly, check & see is that a word, could you, M’lady?) I have been an absolute pain in the ass of all those around me, and I have, undoubtedly, pissed off a round dozen people.

By all means, let me offer my sincerest apologies.

No, I never said anything I didn’t mean, but I certainly didnt’ say so with my usual…. Well, I was gonna say tact, but I haven’t been known for that anytime recently.

I pissed off people, also, or at least let people down, people that I care about a GREAT DEAL, by trusting a third party to come through, and the third party did a halfass job, and that reflects upon me, and it is unacceptible.

I pissed off a couple of family members by being shiorter-fused than normal, because of. well because I had a short fuse. I pissed off a few friends because.. Well, hell, I don’t know. I’m in a pissy mood. hell, my NEIGHBORS arent’ talking to me.

So to all those people I irritated, and will probably irritate again, my sincerest apologies- you are in my prayers as always, and I appreciate your patience, or can understand your lack therof. I enjoy an accolade now and then, but I never seek anyones approval anyway.

Hopefully, whenI get back to work tomorrow, and the fur starts to fly again, all will return to it’s proper place in the universe.

I have spent many an hour watching people die in hospitals. I watched my maternal grandfather die, gasping for air and choking on his own mucous. I watched my father undergo operation after operation, wondering each time if I would be an orphan. I saw my mother in the hospital after a miscarriage nearly left her dead. The last time I saw my father outside a casket was on a slab at St James Hospital in Chicago Heights IL. I identified the corpse of my uncle after his murder, same hospital, same morgue.

I am not a fan of doctors, hospitals, needles, surgery. In fact, if there were some one thing that terrified me out of reason, it would be the thought of having to spend time in a hospital. And less than a week ago, I walked into a hospital, and submitted myself to all the things that have always scared me so much, for all those years. Why?

Because I win. I always win the battles I choose because not winning is inconceivable to me. Now, I choose my battles very carefully, and in truth, I probably walk away from 99%+ of those battles which are presented to me. But some are too important.

About two years ago, a friend of mine and I were talking about the things we do for our children. And we both agreed, there would be no end to what we would do; we’d kill or die for our kids if we had to, and then he looked at me and said: Would you lose that spare tire for your kid?

Apparently, the answer was no. I had tried, lord knows, but I had failed. I have been fighting this issue for a very long time, with varying degrees of success, but at the end of the day, it always defeated me.

And that changed me. It changed my mind about who I was. I decided that if I was to fight this battle and win, I would need some help. I did a lot of homework deciding what was practical, and in the end, I chose to undergo surgery to force me to alter my habits

I don’t play games. Card games? Mweh. I don’t play board games. oh, I’ll pay with the wife and daughter etc. but as a general rule, I don’t see the point in doing something which doesn’t have as it’s outcome me winning. this was a battle I needed to win, and it was no game.

So as much abject horror as i have of hospitals, surgery, doctors, staff, needles, I stripped out of my jeans, slid on a bedsheet sized hospital gown, and submitted myself to all those things i hate and fear.

because I will win. And I did all this without breaking a sweat, the guy who did my IV poked around like he was doing it the first time because my veins collapse in the presence of needles, hurt like hell, would have freaked me out under any other circumstances and I’d be a gone cat. Tuedsay, I laughed and joked about it. because it was a battle I chose, and I chose winning. And I won.

I chose to win this lesser battle because I have a harder battle I need to fight, and that is the battle against my own weaknesses. If I want to see my child grow up, and I do, I have to be stronger than my own weaknesses, and I have an ally there now.

I was having this discussion with a friend the other day, and I got the distinct feeling he thought i was full of shit.Actually, he told me, in no uncertain terms, I was full of shit. Well, that’s as may be, I’ve been that way all my life. Unfortunately he had to go before I could make myself clear, which is a shame.

Winning is something that, when I choose to fight the battle, I always do. You have to be very, very good at choosing the battles, you have to be very, very good at knowing what you are up against. Sometimes you have to bend the rules to win. Sometimes you have to outright cheat. But in the end, if you choose your battles wisely, and only choose the battles you know are right and true, winning is the only option. Giving up won’t cut it. I have lived this way all my life, and while I have chosen some stupid battles, I won them, and in winning, got better at choosing battles, understanding what is important and what is not. if you want to be in the habit of winning, you have to learn how to properly choose your battles. If you can’t do that, you shouldn’t fight at all.