I have decided I will write out my life testimony. I can certify this story is true with the scars on my head; this to offer authenticity.
In no way am I boasting but I am merely sharing with you the life I have been given. I have every reason to hate God and everything in life due to what I was dealt and still am dealt to this day. Maybe this story can help you understand why I hold such radical beliefs.
So this is my life story, credits to God and not me.
All my life I felt there was some great force pushing down on me, Holding me back from feeling and doing mundane tasks. The thing holding me back was brain cancer, commonly known as a tumour. This was an unknown, unseen disease.
I call a brain tumour cancer, because a tumour is comprised of mutated cells. Mutation is the common dominator for all cancer.
The problem started in grade 1. I was 7 years old. I can remember it vividly, I was in class and it was lunch time. I did not feel good and when lunch time came I felt worse. Any teacher would have thought, this kid just wants attention. No, I was in pain and I had a great head ache. I can even remember what I was having for lunch! I was having White bread, Vegemite and plastic cheese. It is soft and gross. Why would you feed that to an infant? surely poverty was my reason.
I was suffering in many ways from that day on.
Soon, the head aches came, usually once a year I would suffer for weeks. I would throw up, constantly. So much in fact I would start dry reaching. Nothing was coming out, I was just throwing up what spit I had. Eventually I was so dehydrated I did not have any saliva left. My throat would spasm and my diaphragm would push so hard putting pressure to my head and I can say is it hurt. I no longer needed a bucket. I needed food and had none!
I recall when I was young; I just lay at the toilet bowl, waiting. I slept there on the floor for hours waiting to regurgitate.
During these times I was going to die unless I ate, I could not eat. It was not an option, my head aches were so severe I was paralyzed in pain. I had to lie on my bed, I could not move, moving was the dumbest idea at the time, if I moved the pain would intensify. I played sleeping tigers. I was lucky if I passed out.
I remember most days of my childhood were breakfast free. Eating breakfast meant throwing up so I seldom ate it. I remember once I stayed the night at my cousins and had the guts to eat breakfast. I had a go at eating weetbix and of course I could not hold it down. How foolish I was for thinking that!
There was one thing that was going to allow me to live my fabricated life; it was Medicine. I went to my General Practitioner who looked at me with dismay and told my mother, he has migraines. He will be ok, just give him Stemetil. This was a tiny little chemical that denies the body’s ability to throw up. So I took that and was able to get some food into me. The symptom had gone but the disease remained.
“Symptoms gone but disease remains.”
I’ve embraced the side afraid
These medicines are just poisons by another name
Now it’s time to play the game
I have always loved music; guitar was one of the things I started learning. I remember when I started, my Dad taught me two chords D and A. I got the pattern down pat and started playing those two chords over and over again, I had juicy green grass happening and I was rocking! Later on my Dad gave me his electric. I loved it by grade 7 I got into a band for activities week and we recorded music. We sounded bad but it was awesome! I got into drums too but my Mum never wanted the drum kit to be at our house, I never got to practice it and keep going. Guitar was a keeper.
Because of my illness my mother was concerned for me and sent me to a Chiropractor during my infancy. He did his bone cracking thing and I came out feeling nice, for a little while, why did he not teach me about food!? I learned Chiropractors are big on natural eating. I now know this field believes in medicinal food and he told me nothing! I will get into this concept later. First I am going to tell you my story.
I remember one time I was at my Grandmas house for tea. I had the giant head ache that could end a race of men! I felt so sick and I had to go home, as I was walking to the back door I threw up big time! I felt better for a little while. Most kids I am pretty sure would go to their Grandmas, have tea, be jovial and go home.
Not Petey! He goes, gets a killer head ache and throws up all the great food he was given.
I remember when I was older, My Mother and I were in the car, at times I had to say Mum pull over. She did and I would regurgitate into the gutter. I did this many times in public. I remember once when I was quite older, 17 in fact, a friend came and said hello, as he did I just threw up into the public bin. It was complete bin desolation.
No questions asked.
I always heard a noise in my ear from the age of 7 through to 18. So this noise was a blood pumping noise, a Swooshing sound as the rhythm of my heart. I would tell Mum and Dad but they just said we do not know, go to sleep. This was when I heard it best, at night!
I just had to accept it and thought, yes, I am destined for this. It is ok I told myself.
There was a point tho that the noise did stop for a time and then it just started up again later. This noise I later learnt was a tumour pushing a vein close to my ear. My question is why did that noise stop for a while? Maybe the growth backed off, shrunk?
During primary school my mother enrolled me in a small time FRIENDS group. This group was designed to teach kids about nothing. Just a little feel good group, fill in the blanks and construct futile sentences that express the meaningless banter of child hood discord. I learnt nothing from this; I just lost lunch times as did my fellow school mates. Lunch time was the most treasured aspect of school for any one child.
The group should of been called “Talk for an hour; waste your money and time.” group. The end in (fri)END(s) would of been worth teaching, probably to controversial. We cannot taint these precious little souls at an early age now can we! We can tell them to be selfish and that they originated from a mud fish no problems!
It is a pity, if you question or reject these theories at an older age you will be verbally stoned and rejected!
Does that sound ironically familiar?
I burned often and it was not in the ways of just headaches. I had poor balance; everyone thought I was naturally clumsy. No one is naturally clumsy and if you are then you have to ask why. I never participated in sport. I remember shock was a problem; The shock from stepping. Each step I took baked my brain. I could feel it. Running was not a good idea. So no sport, I can deal with this. My mates are all awesome at sport, fit, fast and agile. I was useless with steps that made my mind throb.
I remember attending cubs and one of the scouts was so fast and majestic! I just felt like junk compared to that guy.
One day in Primary School; my mates and I were braking the rules. We were running in places we were told not to. That day I was flooded with dread. I came home and I was terrified, I did not know what I was feeling. This was not a physical problem either this was huge. I knew I was lost, I was talking to my brothers and trying to have fun playing on the bunk bed but something in me was terribly wrong! I just retreated to my bed room and cried out to Jesus! The moment I did the inundated terror was deluged with
love! It was eradicated. I was well within the confines of death by this time and had no knowledge I was living my death bed and ready for Hell fire.
I recall being at my cousins birthday party, I think I was around 11 or so. My cousin and I were on the back of my uncle’s kings wood Ute in the tray. We were standing up cruising down the gravel road and as a turn came I just fell off.
I fell sideways onto the road. I can’t recall the pain I felt, if any.
Knowing what I know now, this was the process of balance and co-ordination in the brain being affected.
In high school I always avoided sports class and sports festivals. Half the time I was way too sick to attend these fun times. I went to a swimming festival in high school and went in a race. The race begun and I could not swim in a straight line, does this sound clumsy? Or is this starting to look weird? Half way through the race I was dominated and I just pulled out, I could not even finish the race. I was so confused. It was not a matter of, quitting as a loser. You know how it is when you do over arm and you lift your head to breathe every third stroke or so. Lifting my head hurt!
I was confused and tired.
I remember going to my cousin’s birthday party, he lived out in the bush area. It was a great night! We all ate and caught up.
We were playing a child’s game, I was running alongside a chicken coop and my big cousin through a rock at a possum that was located on the upper area of the coop aka the roof. The creature launched itself for protection and flew through the air.
I mean a possum jumped like a Sugar Glider.
I do not what could be anymore unnatural than that.
Possums here in Australia have four legs and scamper like a cat.
This possum in particular was a brush tale.
They get there name from their big thick tales.
So this ridiculous creature launched itself off this chicken coop roof in fear of a projectile (childs rock).
Possums are tough. They have thick bones. I know they do because I watched one endure the velocity of a sledge hammer to the face, it walked away in peace.
I also heard one that was encapsulated in a bin for two weeks.
I always wondered what the noise was outside my bedroom window.
One day I decided to check the bin, I tipped it over and out came a possum with a plastic bag stuck to it. It ran
up a tree with its counterpart.
Ok this was so funny but truly I feel so sorry for it now, I want to go back in time and set it free so it would not need to suffer.
Back to the possum that launched itself off the roof.
So I was next to the coop and the possum would have been almost directly above me. I was moving on the ground and it was moving in the air. It chose me to brake its fall by landing on my head and then to the ground. Everyone laughed for a few years.
Possums have claws, if it wanted to it could have scalped me. It did not do that, it felt like someone threw a cushion at me. I wonder to this day, why did it not use its claws? It used parkour (free running). It hit me like a cushion and fell straight to the ground and ran on its way. I guess claws would of made it stop and it had o intention of stopping.
Have you seen people do free running? It’s impressive, these people run and jump objects, they from buildings, they jump onto buildings and keep a smooth consistent pace. This little story has nothing to do with my condition; I thought it would just be a good laugh.
I remember in grade 12 when I was 18 I could tilt my head back and my neck would crack every time. I told my cousin and he just laughed, called me a weirdo. That crack was because my tumour was so big and the pressure was so intense, there was no room in my head.
In my late teens, I climbed a small Island in awe of my brother who could run like a cat! We explored it. To get off the Island we had to descend a small hill, he just ran down, me how ever. I sat and slid down on my butt. I was over any humiliation now.
At the age of 18 I was going for my P’s test and could not pass. I drove fine but I did not drive to the standard of safety. It was very simple errors, one time I turned into the wrong side of the road. I tried over seven times I think and always failed. I told my instructor about my recent visual issue, this was the first time my eyes started telling me, mate you have a problem. I did not understand how our bodies tell us things are wrong with us. I had just been washed with Doctors, Science and chemicals to be your only way of healing. Naturally I considered nothing else but the road of money.
My eyes, this was it. My eyes sealed the deal and it was time to get something done. I am now 18.
I was advised to go to an Optometrist to have my eyes checked due to a strange fuzziness that would manifest and dissipate in a matter of minutes.
I was examined only to receive a strange reaction from the Optometrist who sent me to go to an Ophthalmologist. He had me sent to the hospital where I was given a CT scan the same day.
As he saw the scans he immediately had me sent to Launceston hospital. I thought this was all rash and I had no idea what it meant. I went to Launceston with my Mother. I remember getting out of the car and looking at eh hospital thinking, I cannot imagine what it would be like to be debilitated, to be cared for every second and have everything done for you. I had no knowledge of how magnanimous I had been to myself for so many years. It was soon to be me. How Ironic this was!
In Launceston I had an MRI, once this was reviewed by a Neurologist; I was told I had a 5 cm brain lesion.
This is petty talky I was in way to serious a problem to consider any of this.
A taxi to good health.
So I was at the Launceston Hospital with my Mother. The neurologist recognized the extreme magnitude of my situation and I needed to be in Hobart. There were no ambulances so the hospital hired a taxi to drive me 2 1/2 hours to the royal Hobart hospital. I think the taxi clock ticked over $300, the taxi driver was so happy and I do not blame him. He bought me some tea on the way to Hobart. Dim sims from memory. I remember chatting to the driver and telling him they might need to put a tube in me that go from my brain to my bowels. He said he did not blame me for being worried. The Taxi driver saw me to the front door and wished me luck.
We arrived at the hospital where I was asked strange questions such as who is the president of Australia, “John Howard”.
I just didn’t think anything of it.
Funny enough my Aunty Alison was there training to be a nurse and we met up.
I was soon to be in a hospital bed and the last thing I recall was my bro fainting as the anesthetist put an I.V. needle into me. I think I knew what was happening but my brain said no. I was in denial. I was ignoring the inevitable. When something like this comes at you, you just live in denial.
I will describe to you the best I can about what I saw from here on. I do not know at what point in time my brain visualized this but I did have strange dreams which surpassed me. Most of which had something to do with my life or the current situation;
The whole experience was surreal.
The place where I was, it was insane.
I dreamt about my Aunty Venita who quizzed me, we were in a mansion and we were far apart.
This mansion had tubes of blood running along the walls. I adopted a little black child.
I have not seen my Aunt in many years so I have no idea why she came to my mind.
I was at my primary school for a while being crucified on the basketball courts.
I remember seeing friends and family but they were made of plasticine or rubber. They were fast and flexible.
I was in a green room and there was a sparkly line, like someone was welding the green wall. No one was here, I have no idea what connection this had to anything.
I remember waking up and throwing up all over myself, all over my hospital gown.
I remember being cold. I was on a dock and there were boats lined up. I was on the sand next to the boats; it was cold, windy and sandy. At the end of the dock, far away there was a tablet saying “God is God”.
Gravity was heavy and I was trying to get to the end, I think my Brother Isaac and Mum were there, I could not get there, it was too heavy.
There were two men jumping from boat to boat, I thought they were devils but I think now they were nurses but I do not know now.
This vision made the most sense.
I recall being in a mine. A part of the mine fell and smashed the back of my head, that’s why I hurt so much I was with the Beacons field miners who were stuck in the mine at that time.
I awoke, I do not know but my first memory is my Dad saying, you had a brain tumour.
These are the conscious scenarios.
I remember when I was conscious all I wanted was Mum and Dad. I yelled Mum, Dad at the top of my weak little voice for hours.
I remember the nurses saying thank goodness you’re here.
I was in a red truck, with all my tafe mates, driving along a dusty gravel road.
Cat from red dwarf was feeding me slime. Tasty slime.
He told me the clip on my finger was the reason the world does not end.
I remember lying in bed looking at the wall, I could not stop blinking. I saw patterns, black lines all over the walls.
I remember trying to lift my left arm was like lifting a very heavy weight. A weight I was not holding.
I remember waking up, this might been after a surgery and I saw a nurse I think his name was John,. I asked him if I was dead. He said you look alive to me.
I remember a nurse came into my room and gave me pills to swallow, after this I knew I was a fool and I was going to die!
I remember that I was in a large room, on a massive king side bed with huge pillows. I knew I was fine but I was tired and I just laid back on this, at a time on this bed I was at my Aunties house and my cousin was walking around me but I could not be with him. I was on a bed at a house.
So this is what actually happened to me.
A titanium metal mesh had been drilled to my skull to protect and cover the large deficit in my skull.
As I regained strength and health of weeks in the Neuro-ward I learnt that I was put in a coma for around a week. I was perplexed, delusional and had endured illnesses such as Meningitis, Dysphasia and Paraplegia. At a time I was constant transitioning from reality to a surreal subjective world. I was with Mum and she was talking to a nurse. It felt like hours and this was when I was kept switching realities.
I later learnt that during the first operation my skull had been cracked resulting in a seizure with blood on the right side of my brain. My tumour was located on my brain stem, under and at the back of my brain; this was squashing my cerebellum, the area the brain processes coordination, memory etc.
The Doctors realize seizures occur in the frontal lobe of the brain, so I was rushed back in for further hours of surgery. I think I spent over 14 hours of operation time and so much damage had gone on; I had to be placed into an induced coma for 1 week to allow for swelling to go down. I learnt the tumour was 5 cm’s and on my brain stem. Squashing my cerebellum; Co-ordination is processed here; hence why I was never good at sport. I remember a few weeks after, I would get visits from physiotherapists, man I hated that. I was lying on my bed and I knew they would make me sit up. Not get up, just sit my back up, I would not get out of bed. This was so hard, I remember on the fourth sitting up I was knackered; I just collapsed and fell to sleep.
I remember going to a front room for physio, there were windows all around and mini trampoline I stood on.
I can’t recall what this was.
I remember when I was lying on bed and my mother was there I think. A doctor came who said he wanted to take the shunt out; I think I had a tube going into my head. As he started pulling it out.
Half my face went tingling. I felt it sliding out and it felt like half my face was getting pulled off.
I remember being told if I felt pain push that button. The button gave me a shot of morphine. The nurse told me that it would reactivate every twenty minutes.
This is so I could not overdose.
I remember I could not work out my Aunty Allison and a nurse called Aimee visited me interchangeably. So I called out Aileen referring to two people.
I remember the nurses would shine a light in my eye, from their torch in the middle of the night that was so annoying.
One time for breakfast I was given Weetbix and I am pretty sure I atre it raw. Ironic 8 years later I would live for this!
I regained health in weeks and was eventually moved to the physiotherapy ward. Here I was trained and re-taught the simplest things such as movement. I had to relearn and get all my organs that had willingly shut down over time after the operation, working again.
I remember my room had a window right next to my bed and the sun shone down. I was so happy for that sun!
Many of the nurses were kind and selfless in helping me. I remember the nurse that took my blood, one nurse who came she was not like the rest, she had the sweetest disposition. I thought she was an angel. I did not feel the needle from herm others hurt me. I had so many needles my arm could not be penetrated any more, I had to have butterfly needles.
I was on much medication, I could swallow seven pills, I was so proud.
All up I spent 2 months in hospital and I came home in a wheel chair. Many weeks of physiotherapy and time passed as I regained as much a normal life as I could. The double vision I bequeathed from surgery is with me to this day.
After months of nurses coming to my house to assist me, hydrotherapy, physiotherapy and plenty of self-training had come to its end.
“The most memorable moment I had was waking up soon after surgery and eating a dry, hard Weetbix”.
Back to the safe haven.
Life was not good once I returned home. I remember my first week of dismissal from hospital my brother did not stay at home to be with me on the very first week end. My brothers and father just continued their life and I felt as if I had no room in their life. My mother was always by my side doing the best she can. No doubt she felt as forsaken as I was. I was visited by a group called head way.
I was clearly disabled, well I was always disabled. That surgery was not the turning point in my life. I was unable to apply for financial assistance from the government as my condition was considered below the criteria to be met.
Headway booked in with the government and won their help for me. Headway gave some futile information to my family concerning me. This information given was to no effect in the intentions of understanding. I was invited to a few events through head way where I met a few people who suffered various injuries as I have. The victims were much older and the injuries were so diverse I did not fit in as I am sure others had hoped.
I had two caring people come once a week to visit me. Damien and Kylie were they. Kylie was a sweet single Mother and we did not really get along. Damien on the other hand was an Elder guy. He and I got long like a house on fire. No doubt everyone got on with him. He was fun. We could do things and he under stood my problem and worked with it. We just hung like friends.
Contact with humans came to an abrupt end. Solitude had hit its maximum. Not only was I severely blind but I had officially lost the ability to appropriately communicate.
Four legged fluff.
My brother and I bought two dogs a few weeks in. Dad was bent on border collies. My brother and I went to purchase these two dogs. I think I sat down when we got there and this little Dog jumped on my lap. So I bought her. My brother bought another dog.
Within the first few nights my s dog killed itself trying to escape. This might sound dumb but I prayed for my dogs safety. So my brother bought another one from the same pack. He was called Fletcher and I called Xeena. In time Xeena developed a cist on her throat. She was getting slow. The cist got huge and we took her to the vet. The buildup was cut open and drained. I always found it funny how a pet represents the owner. For Xeena she also suffered health issues like me. Fletcher always reminded me of my brother. He was a pack leader. He had a beautiful pelt and was always clean. Xeena was a runt, her pelt was bad. I remembner feeding them. Fletcher would not let Xeena eat. He would take her food, eat it and then his. Everyone said chain them apart, set them apart. Their useless tie them down! People are here tie them down. It made me mad the way we treat animals.
I would not succumb. One day I gave Xeena a bone and fletch. I put them at opposite ends of the lawn.
Fletch saw Xeena and ran for her. He took her out and stole the bones! I was sick of this I was going to make them eat in harmony and I did! It took a while but I did it.
In time I had both their food bowls side by side and I had them both waiting and eating side by side from their own bowls.
Whenever we went to the Dog beach Xena was fine and fletcher attacked every dog in sight. We could not take fletch there. He was extremely arrogant and in the end Fletcher was sold. Xeena remained with us and I firmly believe she needed training every day.
I am always told that dog school is important, without your dog is lost. I do not think so; I think dog school is a rip off, a waste of money and time. I hate this mentality of you have to answer to the higher powers or fail. They say you cannot teach and old dog new tricks. Lies, you can! Teaching young dog new tricks is the hard part. If you put the time in and persevere you will succeed.
I think buying Dog was one of the best moves any of us made. Animals are a beautiful creation. People see them often as a danger and threat. At the time I saw them as nothing. For a long time I saw them as an inconvenience if anything. You have to feed them and look after them. I saw them as something to do which is right up there with this “you cannot teach an old dog new tricks.” concept.
Some do not appreciate Animals; we see them as a door way to disease when in fact humans are the door way to disease. I learned to have a tremendous respect for animals in my later years. I no longer see them as an inconvenience or filler but a blessing! And I see God in them. They have the sweetest disposition.
Where I live now there is a massive Mastiff next door. It barks a great deal and can strike fear into your heart. It got out one day and I went out to it. It was barking at me, it would not come near me tho. It kept backing away from me. I give it bacon and food scraps when I can. I went to a house the other day and there was a baby Staffy Bull Terrier. It was so beautiful and sweet. I held it and patted it. It was just beautiful.
I have seen photos of a young child kissing a German Shepherd, a pit bull lying with a baby, a video of a man wrestling a full grown male lion and hugging Hyenas, a lady dancing with Tiger Sharks, swimming with Great Whites and we are told to fear these animals.
When I was 26 Xeena came to visit me and we walked into town. On the way there was a lady walking her Staffy Bull Terrier. She had a nozzle on it and it was harnessed, It was going to tear Xeena apart. The small creature was wild! Apparently that dog used to be a sweet Dog and would not hurt a fly but one day it went wild. No one knows why it went savage.
I went online and joined a site called hi5. This was a social network site like facebook and a girl added me, her name is Marie Paziello. She is a beautiful Phillipina. She had the blackest of eyes and the blackest of hair. She is beautiful. So she started talking to me and we became friends. She was extremely melodramatic, her and I fell in love! As far as love can go online, we had it. I learnt a lot from her, she was the first person who made it clear to me that I was selfish. I was so wound up in my own infatuated apple pie loving self I had no idea I cared for nothing but myself.
This girl was amazing, she spoke over four languages. I was so determined to talk to her I went so far to find a way. I bought a head set, some yahoo chat credit and was able to clock in a good half hour of chatting to this girl. It was incredible talking to her; she would talk to me in other languages such as Spanish or her local language. English was not her first language.
I was great friends with that girl for 6 years. She had online friends to! They were crazy, one friend she had was Laura. One day Marie told me about Laura’s drug bust. It turned out this girl was a Mexican Beauty Queen. Her full name is Laura Zúñiga.
On December 22, 2008, Laura Zúñiga was arrested in Zapopan, Jalisco, along with seven men who allegedly carried US$53,000 in cash, two AR-15 rifles, three handguns, 633 cartridges of different calibers, and 16 cellphones. The arrest was made by the state police of Zapopan and Mexican Army officers. In her initial statement, Zúñiga declared that she was on her way to a party in Guadalajara and that she and her boyfriend were going “shopping in Colombia and Bolivia.” The media noted that Colombia and Bolivia are both, main suppliers of cocaine to the Mexican drug cartels.
Marie kept in contact with me right through my second lot of surgeries. We were dear friends and like me she also had her health Issues. She was diagnosed with strep throat which developed into a rheumatic heart fever. She flew to USA for surgery. I remember she spoke to me during her travels and she was at Japan. She ended up having two heart bypasses.
Marie was a fabulous person and our friendship ended in a good light.
After 3 years of not speaking to her I wrote her an email about healthy eating. I told her the natural food was made by God and this food was designed heal us. I told her about the refined food of man and how it initiates disease.
She wrote back and said she agrees one hundred percent and began eating right. People who are sick or have been sick always take this information with grateful hands. I was lucky she loved God; I could get my point across to her in a much stronger way.
Who poured water on me?
Now at the age of 22 I went to Melbourne with my brother and relatives, it was here I first thought someone had poured water down the back of my head. It was clear liquid. I went to the GP when I got home. He told me the clear fluid was blood and most likely had nothing to do with my previous surgery. He said the worst thing you could go through is have the plate removed; he put me on a few weeks of Antibiotics and sent me on my way. Weeks passed and nothing changed. The GP contacted my Neurosurgeon who received the letter stating my current circumstance and instructed me to come to Hobart. I went; I met a man by the name Asim, an Indian Doctor. I was freaked because I had no idea who this guy was and all I wanted was my previous Doctor to walk in the door, Mr. Erasmus did walk in.
He looked at me and said you will be operated on Tuesday, I think it was Friday. I heard my heart beat all the way back to the car. I fasted before surgery.
I had a pic line put in me before my first op; this was nerve racking as it is a long needle that starts at the middle of your inner arm and travel to your heart.
Asim did my operation and I had to inform him of my thin skull.
Things moved quite fast which was good, I was in and out in a matter of hours, and I was told to be in for a week, I was happy to hear this.
It turns out my skull was infected and this bought me more hospital time.
My plate was removed; ironic seeing my GP told me worst case scenario was my plate would be removed for a few weeks. It has been vanquished to this day. I was dosed with plenty of Morphine.
After my plate was removed I suffered severe headaches, and experienced swelling, which I was told is a buildup of CSF (Cerebral Spinal Fluid.) What was happening was once the plate was removed, paths were blocked, inhibiting the flow of CSF from my brain to my lower back to my brain. It was all building up in my head.
I was then re-in versed for more surgery performed by Mr. Erasmus. I was on my back for 5 weeks having a monitored flow of CSF leave me via a tube. This was put in place because my plate was infected, once this was removed, my skull was further infected; the infection had to be eradicated completely before my third operation could proceed. I was also satiated with plenty of Morphine to dull the pain.
I remember having a lumber puncture performed by Dr. Asim to, which was painless; my previous one hurt a lot. I learnt to trust and become grateful for Dr. Asim.
My third operation was also performed by Dr. Asim and I was rushed into this operation awake by the time I was on the Operation table. I was told by the Anesthetist that they were rushed; I was knocked out in no time. Asim inserted a long internal tube in me that runs from my ventricle to my bowel.
Weeks of sickness passed and the food was intoxicating me making me very sick. I had a strong band put over my head which felt like some strong entity crushing my head. This was hell; I was lonely, suffering and never felt such raw pain in my life. I remember a Doctor came in to remove the band, I was relieved and didn’t want it back on, he simply said enjoy it, it’s going back on soon, he stuck the back of my head with local anesthetic needles. Intense pain enveloped my head and then the band was tied back on. All I had was the bed side to cling to for consolation. I don’t know how long this went on for. I know I lived in misery for weeks. One day I awoke to realize something changed, the horrid band fell off, or I pulled it off during night. It stayed off. This was a great moment.
I suffered bowel problems; I had to have a catheter and plenty of laxatives to get me going. One time I could not wee, I thought I was going to die, I was shaking and the Nurse had to rush to me and insert a catheter into me. I had this done a few time and it was shear pain.
I also caught a urine infection which was diagnosed and treated early, more pain!
Time passed I was reliving life in Hobart hospital. The Nurse, Andrew walked in and said; do you want hear good news, I said “I am going home” he confirmed me. There was no good news in hospital, only leaving was good. 8 pm at night, an ambulance came and collected me, drove me home from Hobart, three hours in the back of a van on a horrid bed.
I was sad to leave the Nurses who I love so dearly. I was home after a long uncomfortable journey. It was sad, I was uncomfortable and I felt like I just jumped out of the Spa to The swimming pool. I met my Uncle who is an Orderly and Dad at the new hospital 10 minutes from my home. I adjusted to this quite well. I spent a few weeks in my home hospital and then went home. Nurses visited me for a while, I was in pain, I healed well and life has been well to me ever since.
My most memorable moment was drinking cold pressed apple juice! That felt so good! Similar to the Weetbix experience but this was better. Some friends owned an apple Orchard; they brought me some of this heavenly liquid to elate my worst experiences.
Motivation is the key to getting it back, this goes out to all you who suffer some kind of injury. You will not regret your motivation, ever.
So now I have told you my life’s difficulties let me give you something else to think on.
So how am I nine years later. From about the age of 20 right through to 26I foolishly turned by back on God like a fat backsliding heifer I went my stubborn way and followed my own selfish path of folly.
Around twenty two I took on further surgeries and after that I soon decided to walk my own walk.
So I did.
I tried to be normal and that was one of my greatest mistakes.
I was conforming, trying to be a normal guy.
Fail is the only word that can some it all up. I will not go into details about hos God chastened (punished) me. God does not use sticks to beat his children, not like earth men.
No God has a much better and much more terrifying method.
His stick is called Satan and fallen angels.
It is extremely effective, especially when you’re aware of it.
Like I said I will not go into details, you can read plenty about those guys in my posts.
I still suffer visual issues (double vision) I cannot drive, I cannot work but I can read.
As far as getting out, it is not an easy task.
So I have to accept this fate and can I say knowing God is better than knowing any man or woman.
I can read and I can draw. I can also use this pc.
As you can imagine I have a great deal of time to read the word of God and various texts by many reformists.
William Tyndale, Luther and Desiderius Erasmus to name a few.
I had a good few years drinking from the cup of Devils but I can honestly say, what a fool I was in so doing and I cannot believe God suffered me for so long. He did and I am grateful because now I can honestly say my life is him or nothing.
Let us end on this song.