It's #600- And The End Is Not Even Close, It's Only The Beginning!

Wow, 600 articles. I personally think it is quite an accomplishment. Some could care less, but I think it is pretty cool.

I mean, there are only a choice few who have made it to that mark. You could consider them some of the best writers here.

It's nice that I can match them with article count. I personally think the only reason I have gotten here was because of my hard-nosed determination. I like to write, so I am sure that contributed to me getting to the 600th one.

But, the determination I have shown here has been the same determination I've had my whole life.

See, I am a unique individual. Some of you knew this already, and some of you may have smart-aleck remarks, but hold off on those until the end please.

My life has been a battle.

Have I had it as tough as others?

Maybe not. I am living to this day, so I guess I'm lucky. I feel bad for the ones I saw pass on though; I still think about them from time to time.

They went through so much pain. Sometimes they went through so much, they blacked out from it all.

I hated having to watch it; it's not as if I signed up for it or anything. They were my friends, we were not as close as other friends I had on the outside, but friends, nonetheless.

Watching them go through pain was like going through it with them. I was in a lot myself, but it was nowhere near the torture they went through.

Whether it was cancer, heart disease, or insanity, I saw it all there.

Heck, the only fun was watching the nurses run back and forth to the other rooms. Of course, only the men liked this part, the women were not huge fans of it.

It was hard to make friends here, and while it was easy to get to know someone, having the chance to get to know them long enough was the hardest part.

Many would be gone so very soon, and others would be too out of it, if you will.

I remember looking into the eyes of some, they would have a blank stare about them. I knew by just looking in their eyes that they were just too far gone. It was, again, hard to watch.

Some didn't want to wait until the real pain kicked in, all they needed was fuel for the fire to take their own life. Some killed themselves to prevent having to feel the pain they would surely suffer in the future, some did it because they were in the pain already, and others just wanted to end it all because they thought their life was already over.

Some ask me, did you ever want to end it?

Committing suicide was something I think everyone inside there thought about, though some would say they were going to kill themselves just to get more attention.

You have many teens who say this to parents just to somehow make their parents think twice about grounding them or something to that effect. However, this was another case entirely; people did it or wanted to do it because they felt there was no other way out.

No one would blame you for doing it, no one would even say anything negative about you afterward. Some would even envy the individual who actually went through with it.

However, while I thought about doing it numerous times, I never could do it.

I told myself it was not an option. There was not another door to go through, only one.

That one door was to freedom, to pure health and life.

I was determined to get out, to not be like the others. See, I was young, I knew I had more to live for. I knew I had something to tell others, something to give them hope!

I used this to fuel myself, and I still do to this day.

When people ask me, why did you not even try to do it, just to see how it felt.

I never wanted to know how it felt to get close to death, I wanted to see light not darkness.

The way I saw it, suicide is like giving up a score in football. The defense doesn't go out and let the offense score; they try and stop them.

Like many defenses, I didn't know if I would indeed stop the score. But, the fact that I was out there trying and not to giving up because things got harder was the key.

So, while I had every reason to do it, every reason to say I QUIT, I never did.

To me, suicide is for quitters.

Some may think it is a good thing to do under trying circumstances, but I always felt it was the coward’s way out. Giving up when you could at least try, is so dumb to me and always will be.

Some of you may know someone who took their own life, and I am not trying to open an old wound, but I have my opinions.

In any case, I always felt going out and trying, despite never knowing what could happen, was the best thing.

I saw some beat what they came to the institution for. Women beat breast cancer, some on more than one occasion. They couldn’t care less that their hair was lost during it all, they fought and won!

Some fought, but did not have the same result. But the fact that they tried is something to admire.

Some people still did want to end it all. In fact, I remember one man asked someone to kill him. He apparently felt that because the Bible said not to take your own life (his words), if someone killed him it would be okay and he would enter heaven with his family.

I did not agree with him entirely, but I do believe the Bible has something to that effect in it.

The man did die later on, but it was not because of someone killing him, nor did he commit suicide. Instead of fighting to beat his sickness, he gave up. The sickness took over, and this once wonderful man is now no more.

When you see this seemingly all day everyday, it takes a toll on you emotionally. You know these people, some for a while, and to see them go is hard enough and to hear that they just quit tears you apart.

This adds more fuel to the fire that is my life. I saw this and thought of Michael Irvin's words from his Hall of Fame speech years ago: “Don't ever give up!”

I knew I was meant to live for so much more, and I didn't want to lose the fight. I did it for me, and no one else. Was that selfish?

Maybe.

Do you know how many times the doctors said they didn't know what is wrong with me? They knew I was bad off, but they kept telling me with a smile on their face, “We are going to run some more tests.”

I knew it was only to give me some sort of false hope, but it never did.

I gave more blood than any one man should. And what was so strange, was that despite giving six units of blood every single time, they didn't find a thing.

Despite the tests they ran, despite the wires hooked to me, despite the blood, sweat, and tears I gave to the cause, nothing happened.

And for two long years, I had to sit and wait.

Two years, does anyone know how long that is?

Does anyone know how long it is when you’re waiting on just a name? Just one simple name for the sickness was all I wanted, even if it was bad.

Because a name, even if it is was something like cancer, would make me happy. To some, cancer would be devastating.

It would be bad for me too, but not knowing what was wrong killed me inside. All I cared about was getting one freakin’ name!

Waiting two long years for a diagnosis? Some would give up, right?

Determination was all I had; I stayed the course. Despite not knowing what was wrong with me, or whether the millions of sometimes meaningless tests were all worth it.

In the end, it was the fact that I never gave up that helped me overcome everything. I finally won; I got a name.

Gastric Stomach Emptying is what they classify it as. There are a few more names for it which are under all the medical journals, but this is the most common one I've been told.

The sickness is treatable, and because I never said the words, “I quit”; I beat my sickness.

Despite the fact that people can still see the tracks of my tears when they get close to me, I couldn’t care less. Because knowing that you fought for so long to achieve something is so huge, nothing can compare.

I now live for the moment.

I like to watch it rain, see the snow fall, and watch the Sun set.

Does that make me weird?

Maybe.

But again, I couldn’t care less. These precious gifts are here for us to enjoy, and should not be ignored.

For so long, I was unable to see this. So when I got out there to see it for seemingly the first time, it was like life now had meaning.

I finally found the meaning of life, at least for me. The meaning of life is taking in all around you, and always living for the moment.

So to all of you with a loved one, hug them and tell them you love them. They may not be around much longer, but also tell them to never give up in the face of adversity.

Instead, tell them to punch it right in the face!

The number 600 means a lot to me, not just because it is my 600th B/R article.

600 stands for the exact number of blood tubs I gave, the amount of people I met while at the medical institution, the amount of tests, and the amount of times I was told "I don't know whats wrong" by doctors.

600 is not just another number to me, the number 600 is the symbol for life!