Whining Maggots On Parade

My last post sucked. The last one that came out of my brain. I hated it.

The one I called Life, Or Something Quite Like it.

When I wrote it I convinced my self I was explaining how recent health challenges came together to inspire motivation.

When I re-read it, it  just sounded like whining to me.

Again. And again. And again. And again.

I posted it anyway because I have such a love affair for seeing my own words in print.

I left not having a good feeling in my gut. I am trying - desperately - to evolve. Right here. Right now.

I knew intuitively that that was not evolving.

Reality slapped me hard yesterday, slapped me hard, drew blood and made me wince.

I was talking to a friend. He told me he was taking a few days off this week and that he knew I had recently taken a few days off from work and he asked me how it went.

I started out telling him how it brought me peace. Then I segued into the fact that I was hoping the layoff from The Asylum would rest and rejuvenate the pinched nerve in my neck, but that it didn't happen and I was still suffering.

I went on to whine about high blood pressure, high blood sugar and all the rest.

You know the deal. You have endured it all.

He listened patiently, and then we had a break in the conversation.

After fifteen minutes we resumed the conversation. He told me that, yeah, he was taking a few days off. Told me that Friday he was going in to the hospital to have a lump removed from his neck.

This guy is a health freak. Runs fanatically, lifts weights, drinks handmade fruit/veggie shakes daily, doesn't drink excessively, never smoked.

Recently when he was exercising he got dizzy. He got it checked out and they told him he had a growth that was pinching his carotid artery. When he exercised, blood flow to his brain was restricted and he got dizzy.

He went on to tell me that once they discovered the growth they checked him out thoroughly and discovered a bunch of growths in his chest.

He was diagnosed with Stage Three cancer.

He is early to mid thirties.

Usually you get news like that second hand. It was devastating to have him look me in the eye and tell me this.

Especially after all my insignificant whining.

I felt like a weak, foolish, petty jerk. Which is exactly what I was.

He told me that he wakes up sad every day, that doctors have not been exactly cheery about it, that the diagnosis to date has been grim.

Somehow we found a way to work some laughs into the conversation.

I, and many of you, have often been in the position of recognizing through our whining that somebody else has it much worse off and that since we recognize that fact we intend to stop whining.

Then we raise the whining to new levels.

Looking into his eyes, knowing that he waited to tell me this truth with full knowledge that it would crush me given my own weak-ass complaints, has devastated me.

I pledge to never whine again in these pages and hopefully in my life.

Given my nature to date, there could be many days flowing by with blank pages in here.

But I refuse to go back to such a meaningless, self serving approach.

My friend has a great sense of humor. We laugh a lot.

As we parted company he said: "Hope your neck feels better."

No bitterness, pure humor, pure reproach.

He showed me strength.

I am going to try tenaciously to learn from his example.