Failure is always an option

Even if you don’t like MMA or anything related to a contact sport. What Chael Sonnen says here can really apply to anything in life. And it sits deep in me on many levels. Mainly because we have to fight every damn day with a disease like F.A.P.

When you live in such chronic pain daily it is different from someone that has a heart disease and might die at any moment but doesn’t live in pain, so to them it isn’t that big of a deal. The number of  suicide people with IC alone have been estimated to think about is every 30 seconds a day.  Of course most people keep trucking along because we don’t want to die but the thought of no pain is the kicker.

We make pros and cons of how life will be or how it could have ended. 2 years to live they said I had and I would be on my last year now in Australia or Fiji (didn’t decide where to live) waiting for the cancer to kill me, slowly and horribly I am sure. Scopes, cutting out tumors, cancer, polyps. When is enough enough? Why do I have to keep fucking getting scopes? To go every day with the insane pain my my guts. Or where the 20 pound pouch that feels like it is going to fall out of my non-existent asshole makes life worth  living. I believe if you have kids it is a different story, you want to live for them. I on the other hand, being an only child, had surgery mainly for my mom. She asked me today if I had surgery because of her and I said mainly yes. I am sure a part of me had no idea how bad life was going to suck after having a colon removed that I decided to give it a try. I knew deep down I was going to regret it. I remember waiting to go into surgery balling my eyes out, and people just said “hey, you are taking out what is killing you.” I saw it as dying right then and there. I should have gotten off that fucking operating table when I felt the urge. I was so dead set on it that I made my surgeon change the surgical waiver (I have the photo on my phone actually still) that did not give him the permission to give me a permanent ilesotomy if the BCIR was not possible. He was so mad at me because I was picking death and tried to talk me out of it. I refused to live with a bag and I refuse it now. I will always pick death over it. Yea yea yea all of you ostomates can come here and bitch at me and tell me how grand life is with it. Well fuck you and your opinion, I have  my own just like everyone has an asshole, well some of us at least 😉

So sitting at Georgetown university, when my new GI said to call Monday to book my next upper scope. I nodded and took the business card and said SURE. Fuck that I just had a damn scope and my guts hurt. I am so done with scopes. That Monday was over a week ago so shows where my taking care of my health really sits with me.

I am a polyp farmer motherfucker

So I have a shirt I made when I had cancer that says “Lift Heavy. Fear nothing.” I used to lift heavy weight, now I just feel like a heavy weight. My guts weigh me down and hurt. I can’t eat salads or veggies and with someone who has had 60% of a stomach removed and no colon and some small intestine left I am clueless why I gain weight and can’t lose anything. You would think I eat big macs by the second or roid up and eat 5k in calories a day when I really eat maybe 800, 500 on a bad day and yes I know some people will say maybe you aren’t eating enough calories. Well EHHHH I tried that as well. I would eat normal meals to prevent strictures from forming in my guts. It is frustrating and it just adds  onto the list of cons in life. My deadlift is 155 pounds, I can’t run without my legs wanting to give out from extreme muscle pain. My crossfit numbers fucking suck and my brain is full of negative shit. So maybe if I just say no more to this disease and let all that weight fall off my shoulders I can stop going 200 miles a minute and breathe. If I have cancer right now what can I really do about it? nothing so maybe life isn’t meant to live fighting the fight every damn day but looking back and realizing that it was a good one I lived and letting things just be the way they are. So on that note I want bacon wrapped cigarettes and bourbon every hour.

I have 2 incurable diseases and I smile every day like nothing bothers me when in reality the only good thing to a scope is the propofol. Michael Jackson was onto something when he abused that stuff. No pain, no worries.

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