My Story

Growing up I was sick a lot. When I was born, my right eye never developed and I have had a glass eye since the 4th grade. As a kid, despite being fully vaccinated, I had the measles and the mumps and 3 or 4 bouts of chicken pox.

Also while I was in the 4th grade, I started getting crippling migraines and had to go to the doctor often with blinding headaches that would last as long as 4 or 5 days.

I started getting insomnia around this time and would go 4 or 5 days at a time without sleeping. This is a problem I still struggle with. I try pills and stuff but I am a 3rd shifter so it just makes things worse.

At the age of 17 I donated blood to the red cross and was called and sent to see my doctor. For the 2 weeks between seeing my doctor and the phone call, I just assumed I had HIV and was really worried. Turned out to be a chemical imbalance in my liver. The doctor called it a funny chemical imbalance but not much to worry about.

My 30th birthday. I am a father to a 6 year old, and I just had my gal bladder removed…. This is were life gets complicated. They told me, very directly that I most likely wouldn’t live to see my 40th birthday.

The surgeon had informed me that the funny chemical imbalance that I experienced as a teenager was actually a serious liver issue, that my gal bladder was growing into my liver, I had fatty liver and that what had started out as normal liver issues had turned into full blown liver disease. He said my liver looked like I had the liver of an 80 year old alcoholic.

Everything between 30 and 40 was a mess. I was constantly lying to everyone about how I was feeling and how I was doing. I was sneaking away at work to throw up and and go to the bathroom. There were days I was late because I couldn’t drive all the way to work without stopping at the bathroom.

I had a really good job at the time, but once the mental issues from my brain being poisoned set in, they found a reason to terminate me with cause. No benefits, no more life insurance. The company’s HR rep made a point to mention that one twice while smiling. She was informing me that I was about to lose everything, and enjoying it.

There was an upside to knowing 10 years in advance that I was going to die. I got to spend that time accordingly. I decided that since I was going to be gone while my son was still a teenager, that the best use of that time was to build exciting memories.

We took every penny I had and traveled the world. We did things together and spend an amazing time together. That part was great and I suggest doing before you find out that you are dying.

Once the job was gone, that happened to me at 40, right around the time the doctors expected me to go. I was getting sicker, and as horrible as it was for the company to throw me away after 18 years, I actually get why they did it.

Medicine gets really expensive and the sicker you are the more it costs. There is a point that it is cheaper for you to die than it is to keep you around. I had to use my own health insurance for a year before the Medical coverage from disability kicked in. I got to the point that I was taking my medication every other day instead of daily to make it last.

I got to watch both of my cars get repossessed, and I got to see all of my money go towards the $2400 out of pocket for medication. By the time my medical under disability kicked in I had lost all of my saving and my 401k.

The doctors were wrong. I didn’t die the first time till I was 42. I came back after 27.5 minutes of being dead, but the doctors told my family not to expect me to be able t0 function when I wake up. During the 10 week coma that followed I had died 2 more times. 16.5 minutes, and again for almost 7 minutes. There wasn’t a lot of hope.

I pulled through anyway. The following 10 months in the hospital, a nursing home that didn’t medicate or bath me, and really nice rehab hospital with amazing people managed to keep me alive and get me back on my feet.

During the hospital stays I had had so many surgeries that my abdominal wall was destroyed and mid section is mostly scar tissue. I had died once more time in the hospital for less than a minute. Then when having more surgery for weight loss and to put my organs back where they go, my spleen exploded. I died again for less than a minute. For those keeping track, that means I died from 3 heart attacks and bleed to death twice.

Despite all of that I am still here. 47 years old, in the best shape I have been in for 20 years, and rebuilding my career. I bough a house and got my first dog to help me cope with the pain and loss that sits on my like a 10 ton weight.

I work really hard to be here. I take 32 pills every day, I eat right, exercise, and do all of the things I need to do. There are 4 families out there that I owe so much to. At the worst time of their lives, they actually had to make the choice to save me by giving me the organs of their loved ones who literally just died a few minutes before. I owe it to them to do right and work hard. I may never meet them but I still want them to be proud of making the choice to save me.

I also owe it to my family for keeping me going. When I was offered hospice, and given the option to just comfortably die, I said ok. I was ready to go. My wife, they one who had been taking care of me physically told the doctor no.

I owe it to her to do good and do right. Now that I am boxing and walking my dog a mile a day (something I couldn’t imagine after spending a year in a wheelchair) and I have my career back, I want to work towards helping other not experience the loss that I did.

A few months ago my mother was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. Although it just happened, they are already thousands of dollars out of pocket. Most personal bankruptcies are because of illness. So I want to raise money to help my parents who are in their 60s and fighting, but also to raise enough money to help as many people as I can.

I would like to think I am good person. It’s had because of everything I have been through to see myself as having worth or value. I kind of feel like a monster and have Frankenstein’s monster tattooed on my chest, but I think I have a good heart. I owe that much to the people who saved me.

So whether it’s being a good person, or survivor’s guilt, or probably both, I don’t want people who work hard and provide for themselves to lose everything and have to start over like I did.