Tuesday, April 5, 2016

I survived 44 Years.

44 years ago my mother. Mein klein muter (German for my little mom) gave birth to a healthy baby boy
after almost adopting another child because they tried for 9 years to have another child.

I cam into this world half in a taxi and somewhere in the entrance of the Richmond hospital in BC.

Little did I know, little did mom and dad know what was about to embark on. I would certainly be special. Like most mom and dads with a newborn only wish is healthy baby.

I was born with 10 fingers, 10 toes and like most babies. Full of ka-ka.

If i only knew the sacrifices my mom and dad did for me for me to even being born in Canada. They left behind their parents,siblings and friends to come here to give us a better life.

I spent the first 4 years ish of my life in British Columbia. My dad was a purser for CP air and my mom had her own business cleaning office buildings. Eventually dad leaving the airline to sell cars.
Another sacrifice they did to be home with the kids.

My life from what I know was pretty normal. Until I got hit by a car. I was 4, about to cross the street when a young driver hit me on the opposite side of the road and pinned me under the left front tire. I screamed so loud the lady froze and didn't move the car no matter how much my folks yelled for her to back up to get me out. My left leg was pinned under the wheel. My folks pulled me out.

I survived. 8 casts later, but survived.

My child hood was like any other. Jumping ramps, building forts, and grilled cheese sandwiches.
In my early teens I wanted to be an actor. After a failed scam attempt of my parents good money dad thought it was best as most of them agents were just out for money. I never ever pursued it ever again and wish I would have.

I wasn't popular in high school. I had friends but I wasn't a jock and was just into cars. I worked to pay for my car all by myself. I put every cent I had into it and that was the beginning of my love affair for cars. Which remains very strong to this day. I have evolved into a gear head.

I have owned a lot of cars and enjoyed them.  For some its transportation from point a to point b. For me its the experience getting from point a to b. Because as a gear head something fun  happens in between point a to b. I don't think I could explain it to a non gear head. But its a way of life. A culture, A fashion statement. An identity. An extension of ones self.

I don't really think that it was until after high school I became who I am today. I became very outgoing, open to meeting new people, jobs, experiences, travels and life. I was NEVER the risk taker to health. I didn't do drugs, I barely drank. Been drunk less than 10 times in my life. I didn't even really like booze. I hated more what it did to others. I was the type of guy who would rather burn $40 in gas cruising than beer or pot. I just wasn't wired to be a partier .

My jobs and career choices as there was a few. I usually worked with the public, Which gave me the tools to be very outgoing and have the gift to gab. In those years I honed my comedic sarcasm and really enjoyed making people laugh or smile on a regular basis. Probably what attracted my wife to me.  Still to this very day I love being able to fire off one liners, bust jokes,play pranks and make people smile. I think it hides most of the pain I am inside. Common with comedians. Am I a comedian? No. Wish I was....wish I had the confidence to stand up in front of strangers and preform, But I am more of a off the cuff joke teller. I make stuff funny as it happens. I am not a joke writer.

As life progressed for me in my 20's now somewhere mature in my head. I got good paying jobs. I hated most of them. But it gave my son benefits, good food and anything he ever needed or wanted including time.

I soon was now into my 30's. Having traveled a little bit in life. Having experienced some pretty cool things in life. I thought I was doing well. I had survived my teens, my 20's without getting arrested, always maintaining a job and being a good person. Now in my early 30's. Living in a nice place. Having a wicked toy, travelling, life is good huh.....

(Screeching brake noise)rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

My son was mauled by a dog. He was dealing with scaring,healing and night terrors.
April 5. My then pregnant wife and I lost a baby. 4 months.
July just a few months later, she was in a horrific car accident.
Then my attacks started......
Our marriage folded quickly.
But I survived or was surviving.

Now I am single. And sick. Diagnosed sick. I tried so hard to hide it. But couldn't. I lied about being sick until they seen an attack. Some women didn't believe me. Some couldn't deal with it.
I had already dealt with people who only cared about themselves. I didn't want that so in hindsight. It was for the better.

I was learning to cope with my disease. My diagnosis, my denial, my aggravation, my arguments and finally my acceptance.  Raising my son the best I could. Still trying to give him everything I could.
I was surviving.

There was a point that I didn't want my son to have a sick dad anymore. But I survived.

5 years later I met my wife. Ha, if you would have asked me 5 years prior if I would be where I was when I met her and now I would of called you nuts. Because, I did not see in anyway shape or form my life getting any better, Only worse.

April 23, Day I met my wife we will have been together 6 years. When some thought it wouldn't last 2 weeks, well haters.  We did it. I survived.

This past year has been the worst in my life. Issues with my son, My rescue dog that we brought back to life after 2.5 years died May 28. My mom, July 23 was told mom was terminal. And Aug 26 she passed. It was the hardest time in my life to cope and deal with life on life's terms but I survived.

While I watch my friends of my age look forward to retirements, travelling, seeing the world, building cars, future grand children, mortgages being paid off and enjoying the good life I am sitting here watching them. Its a tough pill to swallow seeing life move forward. While I am here.

I have had 4 brain surgeries. One just about killed me. I almost died from a house full of carbon monoxide and i fell once 6 ft into a pit, tore all the ligaments and tendons. Ill never run again but I survived. I survived all of it.

I have had over 10,000 attacks. Over 20,000 hours of my life taken from me. But I survived.

I am not angry at anyone's success. I know people who did really well but are really shitty human beings. I also know many like me would take their shirt off their back and give it to anyone.

I didn't ask to be sick. I didn't sign up for this. I didn't plan this to happen. Its hard seeing others do and have things I should have been able to achieve. This disease took that from me.

But I survived.

I have been poked open, drilled into, cuts, bruises, biopsies, broken bones, you name it...its been done. But I survived.

I hope to live long, give my wife the best years of her life and be the best son to my dad I can be.
I gave my all to my son. There is nothing more I could have done for him, with him or anything.

So, if you see me on TV again or my decal somewhere around the globe or you are hearing about Cluster Headaches for the first time. Chances are my efforts are the result of trying to get awareness, advocacy or helping a fellow survivors along the way. I do not profess to be anyone special. However I knew how special I was to my mom. Hope I made you proud.

I have survived what would kill most people. I have survived. I am 44 today


  1. Happy birthday to my most amazing husband. You are strong and courageous and a survivor. If any of you ever get the chance to meet him you will see that this man has the biggest heart, the kindest smile and a winning attitude. He is my hero.

  2. My strong supportive husband. Happy birthday to you.
    If you would ever get the chance to meet this wonderful man you will be blessed with his huge heart, kind smile and winning attitude.
    Happy Birthday baby. Love you

  3. I am reading this blog and, on one side I am astonished by the gore side of this disease and how brave it takes to be to face it, on the other hand I am so aware that not a single thing in this world solves the issue, although might give the hope to help. As a neo-diagnosed chronic, I find all the contents as dramatic as realistic, and the more I read the more I see myself. The rushes at the emergency just to be treated like a junkie on withdrawal. The silence of so called "friends". The anguish of the beloved once condemned to sit and watch with fallen jaws. The ones who tell you "it's just an headache". That doctor that told me, when I begged for oxygen "go and have some fresh air". The times I had wished to jump on people's throats, then I just wished them to experience one attack with me watching. Life turned to nightmare. Rage. Depression. Frustration. Incapability of accepting your fate. Self medication. Self experiments. Self harm.
    The tattoo "you don't know how it feels like" as a threatening flag, and the serene laugh when the tattoo artist asks you if he is hurting you.
    And your offspring kept as far away as possible from this disease, with the silent hope it has not passed through the genes.
    And the humiliations by the ones you used to call your sweethearts.
    I know.
    And knowing doesn't relieve the pain either, but I feel like wishing you happy birthday, and sincerely good luck.


    1. F. Wow, what a profound message. So well written and well said. Thank you very much and I wish you pain free days my brother.