Comparing Scars

I don’t really care for doctors, and, conversely, nor do they care for me.  Nonetheless, as my brain broke down under certain strains I had not built fortitude to receive, my digestion faltered also.

The digestive break-down hit suddenly, seemed like a curse.  Never went away.  At least, seemed that it would never, and it never fully has although it IS much better than was.  I guess it’s been ten years.  I was laid up in a bed, well, I guess not really.  Laid up in a house.  Lying down was a problem. Gases would form down in my gastrointestinal base somewhere and then falter in trying to escape.  Discomfort.  An internal pressure would build.  I hadn’t the diaphragm trained to respond and help.  That took many years of particular training.  And the body to train as well.  To belch at will, whenever necessary.  Not to turn my attention away, even momentarily for a possible need to belch.  If not, overload, and the brain would collapse on itself.

In time, I went natural with Noni and such, tried a few pills that did nothing, had a endoscopy done, for really no reason than to appease would-be wannabe counselors.  I fainted a lot.  Lost my voice twice.  Once for 4 months.  Another time for 10 weeks.   Couldn’t drink water for year without incurring the Vengeance Of The Gases.  The mad pace-walk kept me alive, I suppose.  I damaged my heart one night that I wouldn’t get up to belch.  It was a pain night after night to not be able to lie down.  Mornings I would try to will myself out of bed to move usually an hour or so before having success.  The whole trauma-situation set on one week after marriage.  It was too much for her to look and see me be able to do nothing.

I suppose once the brain goes and then digestion, the body is just in a process of self-destruct.  And so my organs suffered.  I was just kind of wasting away from the inside, little by little, like a fall leaf already frozen ready to drop.  And I was criticized much for “not getting help.”  World never lacks for critics.  But allowing my spirit to overcome the physical is treatment.  And there were small things along the way, Noni, papaya, cold baths, mud wraps, urine therapy, and finally some buckwheat and cow-liver supplement.  But the process was slow and arduous, a mountain to climb.  Health is a terrible mountain to climb.  I remember sitting to get a meal down, taking three hours to try to finish a meal.  The chewing was slow.  I gorged on sweets, particularly chocolate, to boost my metabolism.  Otherwise I couldn’t digest.  The food would sit like a rock, not digesting.  I suppose, in retrospect, hospitalizations did help me out for the better diet given there.

I suppose I write this because I hadn’t expected these events and situations in my life when I was younger.  Many things have happened along the way that I hadn’t expected or foreseen.  This being an example of such.  The unpredictables, the immeasurables, the suffering, the pain.  As humanity, we can gain, but I think only as we understand and relate pain for pain, fracture for fracture, battle for battle, scar for scar, victory for victory.  Let us all compare scars.  We may have more in common that we thought.


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