Monthly Archives: August 2011

Life

Why did I get cancer?  I dont know.  All I do know is I got it and it was a son of a bitch. Why did I survive when so many haven’t?  I can’t answer that question either.

Have I touched others with my fight?  More than I ever thought.

Just last night I was reading comments and a bartender looked at my tablet and asked if I knew Jason.  I responded that I’d hope so since I was Jason.  She started to cry and came around the bar to hug me saying thank you for saving her brother.  He’d been diagnosed with TC and was giving up when a nurse gave him a link to my chaotic ramblings I call a blog.  He read my story and found in himself the reason to fight. Who would of thought?

This blog was and is a gift from Jeremy Simpson, as a birthday present and a place for me to vomit my story.  He hosts it and helps me make it what it is.  Its only my words without his gift and work this would be nothing.

***Edit by Jeremy*** Bullshit.  You could have told your story anywhere and inspired people.

Rings

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Why do I wear rings?  I’m not married so I don’t wear one on my left ring ringer but I’ve worn them on every other finger.  Why?  A fashion statement? Umm have you looked at me lately and realize I know little and care less about fashion.  It all started with a frins named Tyler he got me a ring that was his view of life. 3 silver strands, him, me, and God.  He made me promise I’d wear it always until he was with God.
I wore that ring for three years before Ty lost his fight, now Teresa watches over that very special ring.

Others knew the story and over time rings have been worn and passed on. Each representing a soul.   The three I wear now, silver Braided ring from Jackie she is still fighting now for 2 years, the one with strength and sanctity is from a non cancer patient but she’s lived with it for 7 years now and she is part of my strength and sanctity. I hope I never have to remove it.  The titanium smaller ring is my soul. When I’m finally gone it will either be on my sisters hand or My offspring whether they be of my blood or not.

Being yourself

There are times when others will be mad at you or disappointed in you for your/our actions. But what if its not justified?  You are now trying to figure out what I mean.  What if they are expecting you not to act within your character?  Just because we want them to be different to fit our idea doesn’t mean they are wrong for being true to themselves.

When in fact we are the ones who are wrong to expect them to act or react in such a way.  A cat with claws will scratch.  A dog will chase something that is running. Its in their nature. We as humans are no different but on a dimples level.

So the next time you get mad at someone think about it.  Who are you mad at them for being true or yourself for believing in a misconception?  If its not harmful or morally wrong be yourself and let others do the same.

You can’t

We hear those two words way to often.  I say you can. Now I’m not talking about rules and the law what I’m talking about are societies preconseptions of our individual capabilities.

Take a minute and think how many times you believed someone else’s words without trying.  People have said I’m stronger than they are because of my illness to fight for my life and that I have something special. I always said no I’m nothing special, I’m no different than anyone else.  I was wrong.  What makes me so different?  I don’t accept those two words from anyone until I try for myself.  Maybe they are right, most of the time they aren’t.

Some of us are faced with more you can’ts than others. Whether its your sex or size or nationality. For me its been my size, I’ve always had to prove myself. Last kid picked for teams, the small kid, the nerd. 

I tried to join the Army was told you can’t you won’t be able to survive boot camp. I joined the Marines. I made it through a harder and longer boot camp. Don’t accept you can’t.  I could go on and on of the you can’t statements in my life. Sometimes they were right I failed and I failed miserably, but most of the time they were wrong.

Then the fated day of July 7th, 2000. I was told to go home and be comfortable that you can’t beat this.  I was told that time and time again. I died many times, I’ve had a lot of treatments a lot of pain. It was worth it I’m alive. What makes me special or different from anyone else?  I don’t beleive anyone when they tell me I can’t. I’m willing to fail and get hurt from trying.  Sometimes that pain is worth it.

So next time someone says you can’t to you think about it.  Do they know you? Do they know your heart? Your will and drive?

I don’t believe people when they tell me you can’t. That’s what makes me special.