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This is a story detailing my battle with Liver Disease and the events the got me here. It is a story of hope and determination and inspiration.

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Sunday, June 3, 2012

the Judgement of Cruelty

As a child and a young man I didn't really participate in the "normal" aspects of cruelty that my peers were partaking in. Magno-burning ants (the practice of hitting ants with the concentrated sun ray of a magnifying glass until they spontaneously burst into flames) pouring salt on pill bugs, de-winging a beetle and pulling the legs off of the daddy-long legs. It was creepy but I accepted it, wasn't my cup of tea, even the lightning bug smear was a bit tough to handle and made me squeamish. If you don't know it, it goes like this... catch a light
ning bug, clasp it in your hand until you find an unsuspecting victim, quickly open you hand and smash it against your target. Preferably a cute girl a couple of years older than you, mash and smear the bug and glow bulb up and down her arm. Run and howl like a wolf into the darkness. Wooing girls old school, like nineteen seventy twoish. Then every neighborhood had that idiot whose mom only fed him popsicles and thawed out TV dinners. In our neighborhood that kid was called the turtle killer. He was even too cruel for the most seasoned insect inquisitor. Sweet and smiley when the grown-ups where around but the first to throw a cat into a bucket of water or tie m-80's to the tail of a dog. I used to tell the kid to treat the animals the way he'd want to be treated... so did Fritzie, Steve and Foley, he'd never listen. The golden rule. I only think of this now because isn't that the way we all want to be treated? Treat me the same as you'd like me to treat you. In hind sight I suspect the turtle killer was only acting out on abuse that he'd been exposed to or witnessed. Possibly it was from neglect or abandonment. Or maybe it was just all those cold, partially frozen TV dinners.

Saturday, June 2, 2012

A favorite from Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night, A father's love is strong, an iron bond; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Worth any price, worth any fight, What came from you is yours, must not be gone. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Friday, June 1, 2012

familiarity breeds contempt

Seven days and it will be exactly six months since my transplant day. Wow, what a ride. So, so much has happened in my life. New liver, recovery, new lease on life, getting reacquainted with old friends, finding faith and the ultimate betrayal. With every cloud comes a silver lining, does that imply with every silver lining comes a cloud. Welcome to the vicious circle and the mortal coil. What I find the most interesting is how people who openly profess their love and loyalty can spin 180 degrees with multiple acts of duplicity. How every minute of every day is criticized and examined for flaws with microscopic exactness. Every small infraction is over blown to epic proportions. The meanings of forgiveness, compassion, understanding and empathy are lost. Does anyone have the answers? I suppose familiarity breeds contempt. Postings of my trasnplant and early life experiences as well as current events will follow shortly.