Life's Little joyous Miseries

Mr. Daystar

In a bell tower, watching you through cross hairs.
Living is a wonderful thing, and I hope I get to do so for many more years, BUT...............

Over the years, I have tore my body to shreds. I have Arthritis in literally EVRY joint in my body. Over the years, climbing in and out of a tractor for 33 years, has twisted my knees and left hip, into a mess of immobility. I put a semi dump on it's side once, bounced me around the cab, and twisted up my back into positions some porn stars can't achieve. I've been in 2 motorcycle accidents, one of which I posted on here, and I have pinched nerves in my neck and back. Left side shoots from the middle left of my back, down my leg, and into my big toe, and feels like someone is putting a cigar out on the side of my foot. The right side shoots from my neck, through my shoulder, and ends as a dull ache in my forearm. I've been on 4 painkillers a day for more years then I can count, so I'm sure that's an addiction. I never went for more then a day without, so I don't know. I'm on disability now, and left my driving job a couple three years ago, I forgot the date. When I was working, I was drinking 1 gallon of Canadian Club whiskey every 6 days. After I left my job, while sitting on my lazy ass, I continued to drink, which obviously caused weight gain, which has exasperated the arthritis. I'm down from my highest weight, the wife and I have been following that diet called "Noom". It works, if you are willing to work. I have my little slips, but I do my best. I'm down to 1 half gallon a week, and a couple of light beers a day. I need that to shrink to a weekend thing. I may be a candidate for surgery or drugs, to help me get down to replacement weight. I won't know for a couple of months, when I get Medicare as my insurance, with my disability. As a reference, in one of the "asshat" threads, there's a picture of me, standing by my bike. I'm 385 in that pic, and I'm a little heavier now, but I need to get down to 250ish before I would be a joint replacement candidate. I'm 57 years old, so most of the time they wait until a person is a little older anyway, so I'm plugging away.

So who's next to unload their life's baggage of pain, suffering and misery all over the dinning room table?
 

Mr. Daystar

In a bell tower, watching you through cross hairs.
:facepalm: Remind me to have you deliver my eulogy.
 

Mr. Daystar

In a bell tower, watching you through cross hairs.
" I didn't know Mr. Daystar very well" (I'm sorry, what was that? Mark? Ok) "I didn't know Mark very well, but he was a pretty fucked up individual, inside and out. I'm told his mother dropped him on his head once" ( what was that? Twice) "I'm sorry, apparently she dropped him twice. which certainly explains A LOT...................."



She really did drop me on my head twice.
 

Mr. Daystar

In a bell tower, watching you through cross hairs.
I strongly suspect we could become friends. Frightening I know.
Not the slightest doubt in my mind. we can sit on the front porch in summer and complain about "those damn kids". add bitch about how they need to pull their drawers up, and use a belt.
 
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