Thyroid!!!
Posted 03-16-2011 at 06:13 AM by Mr.E
Updated 03-16-2011 at 07:15 AM by Mr.E (correct tense, complete the thought)
Updated 03-16-2011 at 07:15 AM by Mr.E (correct tense, complete the thought)
So, a little more than a year ago, I'm feeling a bit bloated, a bit bored and a bit trapped.
I'm hanging out in Bucktown, (in Chi-Town), at a place called The Corner. (Been doing that for a few years in fact. It was "Rich's, First One of the Day" then.)
I'm the guy at "The Corner". My seat is in the corner of "The Corner". Obviously, it's on the corner, and everyone know me as the good-time guy from "The Corner". And 9 times out of ten, I was more than part of the Party...
Problem was, I was in a CORNER, stuck in a corner and I just had to get out. Had to do something!
Just so happens, this Corner Bar is comprised of folks from every walk of life, and I am graced with a gift. I can talk to just about anyone, on just about anything. (It stems from my DJ days... My Trade-show days... My Sales & Marketing days... Oh, those happy days... Which, by the way, is the corporate name of "The Corner" A.K.A. Happy Daze, Inc.)
Now the guy who bought "The Corner", prior to doing so, sat next to me just like David from the previous story.
He turn's to me and says "I'm gonna buy this place" and I say "sure... every s.o.b. that comes in this place is gonna 'Buy' the Place..." he smiles. And he does.
On similar occasion, he says "what do you think about a name for this place?" It goes back and forth... and we start to talk about community.
I explain that I personally, am sick of the sprawling and malling-mauling of America and that neighborhood pubs such as this, must be kept alive. It's the America I grew-up with! It's how the Marine Corp started, in fact... To kill it would be a shame. Something would be lost.
He says "How's 'The Corner' sound to you?" And I tell him it sucks... He laughs... and names it "The Corner". I say "you mean the Coroner..." he stomps out. We talk less.
Anyway, time passes and I become an institution at "The Corner", prayin' not to meet that coroner anytime soon.
More time passes.
One day, a good friend that frequents the Corner is leaving the Consulate and moving to Denver, but he's got a guy that's got a business that he thinks I'd be perfect for, he;ll let me know, if I'm interested. Heck yes! I've been out of work for some-time now and things are far beyond tight.
Few months pass, he calls, we meet and I am Re-juvenated!
And this gig is like a tornado! Tools to de-Pollute dead cars! Suck out the gas! Suck out the oil! Suck out the Antifreeze! It's big in the EU! They've got reg's in-place and they're comin here he tells me...
I do my re-search... and sure enough, I'm hooked.
It's name?
"Vortex".
Perfect!
Here's why: "We are frustrated, even overcome at times, by our physical , finite nature and by failings and inadequacies specific to us as individuals. It is in just these experiences that we meet god. It is there—the godless vortex—that god is most often revealed to us, and that we feel known and seen by god."
[Transforming Shame: A Pastoral Response—Jill L. McNish M.Div. PhD.]
I'm hanging out in Bucktown, (in Chi-Town), at a place called The Corner. (Been doing that for a few years in fact. It was "Rich's, First One of the Day" then.)
I'm the guy at "The Corner". My seat is in the corner of "The Corner". Obviously, it's on the corner, and everyone know me as the good-time guy from "The Corner". And 9 times out of ten, I was more than part of the Party...
Problem was, I was in a CORNER, stuck in a corner and I just had to get out. Had to do something!
Just so happens, this Corner Bar is comprised of folks from every walk of life, and I am graced with a gift. I can talk to just about anyone, on just about anything. (It stems from my DJ days... My Trade-show days... My Sales & Marketing days... Oh, those happy days... Which, by the way, is the corporate name of "The Corner" A.K.A. Happy Daze, Inc.)
Now the guy who bought "The Corner", prior to doing so, sat next to me just like David from the previous story.
He turn's to me and says "I'm gonna buy this place" and I say "sure... every s.o.b. that comes in this place is gonna 'Buy' the Place..." he smiles. And he does.
On similar occasion, he says "what do you think about a name for this place?" It goes back and forth... and we start to talk about community.
I explain that I personally, am sick of the sprawling and malling-mauling of America and that neighborhood pubs such as this, must be kept alive. It's the America I grew-up with! It's how the Marine Corp started, in fact... To kill it would be a shame. Something would be lost.
He says "How's 'The Corner' sound to you?" And I tell him it sucks... He laughs... and names it "The Corner". I say "you mean the Coroner..." he stomps out. We talk less.
Anyway, time passes and I become an institution at "The Corner", prayin' not to meet that coroner anytime soon.
More time passes.
One day, a good friend that frequents the Corner is leaving the Consulate and moving to Denver, but he's got a guy that's got a business that he thinks I'd be perfect for, he;ll let me know, if I'm interested. Heck yes! I've been out of work for some-time now and things are far beyond tight.
Few months pass, he calls, we meet and I am Re-juvenated!
And this gig is like a tornado! Tools to de-Pollute dead cars! Suck out the gas! Suck out the oil! Suck out the Antifreeze! It's big in the EU! They've got reg's in-place and they're comin here he tells me...
I do my re-search... and sure enough, I'm hooked.
It's name?
"Vortex".
Perfect!
Here's why: "We are frustrated, even overcome at times, by our physical , finite nature and by failings and inadequacies specific to us as individuals. It is in just these experiences that we meet god. It is there—the godless vortex—that god is most often revealed to us, and that we feel known and seen by god."
[Transforming Shame: A Pastoral Response—Jill L. McNish M.Div. PhD.]
So, I hit the road in an attempt to get myself back in the game, and sell my new wares to junkyards all across the US... Camping as I went... as minimalist as I could... trade-show to trade-show, junkyard to junkyard... A scrap-book of scrap-yards, if you will...
Installing and selling... getting out there, face-to-face, place-to-place...
And I Dis-Cover a wonderful world hidden in Army Corp (ACE) campgrounds...
I met folks beyond all beyonds of my understanding on levels beyond levels of anything I've encountered and found AWESOMEness every place I stopped.
Every place I went!
From bikers to bling-blingers, the richest with the most-est to the poorest with the least-est... and a peck of peaches or a jar of homemade jam gave me to access to a community SO gosh-darn wonder-Full, that I had to pinch myself just to see if I was actually A-wake!
Such sharing of knowledge and stories... to my a-Mazement, always at hand!
I am pumped!
And, I'm bloated.
My feet are swollen. My belly's getting bigger... I'm thinking beer! Too much beer! This'll be good for me! I'll work it off!
The feet turns to ankles, to calf's, knees, thighs, etc... all the way to the hips... belly getting bigger... and I don't stop. Things are starting to roll... this is my Chance! I've gotta keep going!
And I do.
Now, I happen across an '83 Excella II for sale in a campground just outside of Chicago, in Crete. Practically on the Indiana border... Emerald Trails Campground.
Sanda gets to know me, Jimmy gets the wood and keeps the place running for her and the folks are wonderful. And Sanda turns me onto the deal... "$5,000 the lady take" she says in her wonderful broken-English... "I want you to take" she says, "good deal."
So I put down $1,000, and hand write a receipt. I hit the road again, got some sales to close, some installs to do, be back in a month.
Month comes, another $1,000 down... one of my deals fell through... back on the road.
Big install in Louisville that about kills me... a trip down to Florida for a trade-show, work the yards back up to KY, finish the install and back to settle the deal with Sanda.
BUT! The Universe ain't being kind to me... as monies get held-up on one gig, the terms on another are 90-days out... and I can't get a hold of the last guy that owes us on another system. Scrap prices are fallin... no onne is buyin and I'm out of cash... beggin Sanda for an extension.
By this time I am sicker than an Asian Carp in the sun and as bloated as road-kill.
I pass out. Sanda calls the ambulance... they take me to Dyer, IN!
Things are dire indeed! The doctors are dismiss'n me as another liver-failure. I'm half-aware. Days pass and I get a call out to a friend that it's "Dire" and I'm in "Dyer" and if you don't get me the hell out of here, I'm gonna die here!
Mariana, comes to my rescue. (An Angel I met at the Corner.)
She calls Derrick, a bar-tender at the Corner (who's on vacation), to contact some of my "friends" to get me some of my "things".
She gets me out of Dyer and to the University of Chicago hospital.
She saves my life!
(And you should hear her version of this experience!)
I was in a very, very bad way! And still did't even know what it was!!!
To be expounded upon further... my carpel is a tunneling.
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