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Old 03-27-2019, 02:06 PM #1
antithesis antithesis is offline
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Iím here reaching out for help, itís Life or Death for me

I was supposed to post it unfinished last night, it was my birthday, thinking that I that had I written it, it would help carry the significance of what Iím trying to do but wasnít able to, for reasons that will be explained in the other post. Iím homeless with cancer, and Iím not going to last long, really. Iím reaching out to everything thatís kept me going, just My affinities alone is all that keeps me away from completely giving up. As far as I know, theyíre all Iíve got left and at least thanking them for giving me any fight at all is worth it, being as theyíve never caused me grief. Though nearing the end, feeling like theyíre about to be taken from me for good, among some other straws that broke the camels back.... I hope and ask that the moderators let me get this and the other thread once itís up, organized and articulate enough for everyone to properly understand.

Itís sad how this road all started with me needing a new car for college. I in short, beg them to let the thread(s) stand being as all Iíve got to work with is a smartphone to type all of this.

So much will be premature, and unready and sporadic, all over the place maybe even. But it may not also, Thereís so much Iíll be forgetting & leaving out and not on purpose of course, which later those holes will be filled in. But just need everyone to really under that part, wish I had a film crew to help me document this last 2 months especially of homelessness if I can even make it that long. Or Iíll have to do it myself somehow. At any rate, doing the best I can. Not and a drunk, junkie or mental health issue type, donít smoke, just someone who took a gnarly spill in life, I just havnt healed in any way since. Over 8 years Iíve been trying to write this l, and ready or not Iíve got no choice now.

Iíll be back later tonight to post the thread I had originally intended to post, and hopefully we can go from there, because Iím running out of time, for some reasons right away I cannot deduce my identity because my life isnít safe where Iím at in a lot of ways. Been taking chemo every day for 4 years, 5 months and 27 days today for leukemia, and Iím pretty sick of it. Please Understand.

Respectfully, antithesis (couldnít think of a name quickly enough, has not meaning really)
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Old 04-01-2019, 09:18 PM #2
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Originally Posted by antithesis View Post
I was supposed to post it unfinished last night, it was my birthday, thinking that I that had I written it, it would help carry the significance of what I’m trying to do but wasn’t able to, for reasons that will be explained in the other post. I’m homeless with cancer, and I’m not going to last long, really. I’m reaching out to everything that’s kept me going, just My affinities alone is all that keeps me away from completely giving up. As far as I know, they’re all I’ve got left and at least thanking them for giving me any fight at all is worth it, being as they’ve never caused me grief. Though nearing the end, feeling like they’re about to be taken from me for good, among some other straws that broke the camels back.... I hope and ask that the moderators let me get this and the other thread once it’s up, organized and articulate enough for everyone to properly understand.

It’s sad how this road all started with me needing a new car for college. I in short, beg them to let the thread(s) stand being as all I’ve got to work with is a smartphone to type all of this.

So much will be premature, and unready and sporadic, all over the place maybe even. But it may not also, There’s so much I’ll be forgetting & leaving out and not on purpose of course, which later those holes will be filled in. But just need everyone to really under that part, wish I had a film crew to help me document this last 2 months especially of homelessness if I can even make it that long. Or I’ll have to do it myself somehow. At any rate, doing the best I can. Not and a drunk, junkie or mental health issue type, don’t smoke, just someone who took a gnarly spill in life, I just havnt healed in any way since. Over 8 years I’ve been trying to write this l, and ready or not I’ve got no choice now.

I’ll be back later tonight to post the thread I had originally intended to post, and hopefully we can go from there, because I’m running out of time, for some reasons right away I cannot deduce my identity because my life isn’t safe where I’m at in a lot of ways. Been taking chemo every day for 4 years, 5 months and 27 days today for leukemia, and I’m pretty sick of it. Please Understand.

Respectfully, antithesis (couldn’t think of a name quickly enough, has not meaning really)
OK, I'm back for about 10 minutes until later tonight from a phone, had spent about a half hour writing up something good, and was about to post, but this crappy library computer killed everything simply trying to preview post. At any rate, I'm putting it up prematurely and will work on it as time goes by, also providing links to other communities that are under that umbrella of affinities. Maybe even have it grow into a blog health providing along with other things of course, that will have video, and that kills me most right now. I wish I had a camera or a camera crew here showing you everything, especially now more than ever, it absolutely enrages me to feel like I don't have what I need to ask for help, no computer to edit video from even one camera let alone 3 needed every day to then edit (or not) and put together for you guys as often as possible, with that kind of motivation, every week. Though moving on, Today prompted me to do this, I got all ready, shower, shaved, mail, then crashed, went to a parking lot and knew if I didn't park and hide and rest, I'd crash, so I did, I hid in my car and slept in a lot, and 30 minutes or so turned into 6 hours, I can't keep losing days like this. That's how weak and fatigued and sick I am now.

"The act or an instance of not having or being able to find" ; Loss

"' I've been trying to write this before, nearly 8 years ago, November of 2011, right before thanksgiving while getting pulled over and given a ticket on my way back from class one frigid night, I'd already been thinking for a while at that point before the stop, couldn't help but feel that my life was creeping up on some sort of iceberg for lack of a better term, and I desperately needed to get an SOS/mayday out. So instead of writing about 9 years of unspeakable suffering, what in the immediate prompts me to avoid polishing up any letter like I want all novel-like and long, and having it ready and easily understood, hitting home on all the points I need, you need, etc. Is I'm dangerously close to dying.... No family, no bogus shelters or hospitals who assume derelict automatically, or phony social workers who're paying off a degree that which completely cycles around you staying homeless to generate federal funding for their paychecks. The churches aren't innocent either I've learned, as they make their money off the homeless in a fashion that just piggybacks the system, tax refundable, max deduction "donation/charity" to drunks and junkies on SSI/SSDI or not and those who should be in mental health facilities.... and that's not to discriminate, just the observation of how they've monopolized their money they donate by about three fold in doing all this. So that's those who need a mental hospital or drug-rehab being circumvented around along with the very few and I mean a very damn-few-affluence that get ignored like me and quite contrary to popular belief, has done me more harm than good, the monopoly if you will. You're probably wondering why this has still taken me as long as it has, I think I may have found my in, constantly writing this up now, thinking, "OK, by my birthday I'll get this done." But now, I'm realizing that as of March 9th, the day everything and it's "horizon event" occurred is my two year anniversary of shattering my face in what was my awesome black 4runner thanks to chemo and a false friend, then being left like that in the street afterwards, starting off my 2017, only to get significantly much worse than that, as I describe this, figure that's my in, a good way to say HI! I need your help? Though before even all that, hopefully the shorter timeline I depict between then and now will help you understand the greater mural of it all.

It's been about a month of nearly nothing to eat every day whilst taking Chemotherapy at this point for chronic meyloid leukemia for 4 years, 5 Months and 23 days straight today. My body isn't going to last much longer and I'm also not sure if the failure will come via organ failure of some sort or CNS origination, so I've no choice but to prematurely launch everything I can.

My birthday is March 26th today the 1st, I tried to get this iteration in, and well, as you can see, this is how it happens, March 26th is my birthday, something I haven't celebrated in longer than I can remember now. I hope to make at least an entry in what I hope to be later a lens, that will let you peer into this life both from a perspective and with a context that properly describes .... Me. Before I die, people need to learn from this one that's the chief fire that burns inside me now. It's not realizing just how exhausting you get, from the poison, the lack of sleep, extreme stress that's always present, starvation along with malnutrition, and the external threat of others not just police that wear you down to never getting a single letter written in nearly 8 years, it's only so long before I realize I'm fighting for time to do just that.

The series of events was discovered on March 5th this year, and is basically what's pushing me to write this, is it was too much of a loss for someone already in too vulnerable of a position. That camels back so to speak is what has happened to me in a 3 day span, In less than one week of me writing this, I noticed that $500 of my money had been stolen which may very well have been a police officer, because nobody else went near that compartment of my car which is something I have on video and audio, as the officer sees himself he tries to search my glove box out of frame of my phone, right next it's speakers.... along with my $250+ dollar skateboard, that meant a lot to me as a drummer and as a rider of 20 years. Of the board company, music graphic on the deck, trucks, wheels, and even bearings I think, It was "street board," and as you'll read later a church that acted as a homeless shelter has let this individual who stole it get away by lying about working cameras. I learned this on the 11th. My way of staying physically active in this mess, when I have the energy, I've learned that in the last 3 months, I've had maybe less than one total real session of actual "skateboarding." Anyway, one question of why that is probably being asked is, why here, us, this place....? Etc-and alike.

Well, that's simple really, it's my Affinities that bring me here, google it, or check it's meaning here : Affinities | Define Affinities at Dictionary.com

I'm reaching out to all of mine, from skateboarding, to drawing/3d modeling and that generalized artistry and then music, there's beacons throughout that I'm' gonna need help from, because they're the only distractions in the world left for me, some might ask why here? Well, that all starts here with these words, RANGE, RELIABILITY, MOBILITY, DURABILITY & DEPENDABILITY. As I've got obviously the skateboard influences and heroes, same with music influences and some of the biggest if not the biggest have passed during this experience as well, as a drummer who accidentally adopted or developed a style from an influence, back at a time when youtube didn't even exist. To artistic ones in the conventional sense, as an illustrator as a kid, finding out I was so inclined at 10 years old. This skill grew as I grew determined to find a way to impress my way out of abuse and invisibility as a kid. Later now adopted to the 3D realm where my body keeps me, and even there my spine and hip can only take sitting for so long, have to build a special chair to friggin use a computer.... Everything I love have always been the only things that have kept me alive to put it bluntly. And now, even those things are being taken from me, and I'm on the brink of never having a chance at getting them back.

Without your help, and everyone else combined, I die, but that's gonna happen anyway. Someone had asked me, why do something like this when I was just verbally beta testing the idea to people, and they had told me, and all I could think was a quote which feel free to ask me about later, that went, "you miss 100% of the shots you don't take," and that's the difference between my concrete jungle and the pygmies' leafy green one in africa to the obtuse sitting comfortably in a home without cancer, wich I have now taken Chemotherapy every single day for 4 years and 6 months straight today.

8:23PM Central time, To Be Continued, I gotta eat and get to a shelter, wish I had a lens.

Last edited by antithesis; 04-01-2019 at 09:27 PM.
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Old 04-09-2019, 02:05 AM #3
antithesis antithesis is offline
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Fullnpost from Friday-Today about an absent post is coming & very needed, spent 3 ER visits, without any treatment, and chemo thatís supposed to be taken every day that Medicaid is playing tit for tat with which hasnít been taken since Friday. 4 years & 6 months as of the first & they try to save $1500 on this game of theirs, hospital & provider treatment was equally obtuse, much video was recorded, discharged by a dr. Who wasnít even on call or working in the building at the time, kinda think that isnít legal but whatever, Iíll get into it tomorrow. News stations are waiting on me like you.

Apologies
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Old 12-20-2019, 01:35 AM #4
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Exclamation

Barely alive, and possibly dealing with a second cancer, major updates are on the way as video footage is finally being released slowly but surely to later complete an edit that well.... gives us some context as to what to do.

March 9th, shattered face, and the video after this will really make your stomach turn when you realize whatís actually happened to me in the videos.

YouTube

At least on my browsers, subscribing and commenting isnít showing up at all, just the video on YouTube.

I hope you realize that in this video is my near perfect black 4runner.
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Old 12-20-2019, 09:05 PM #5
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re-uploading video - someone is getting se sir Iíve about me outing them for being scum and leaving me for dead after such tragedy.

More in a bit
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Old 12-20-2019, 10:35 PM #6
GreenMountainOwl GreenMountainOwl is offline
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So at some point your beloved black T4R got into an accident, you were injured, and...where is this going?
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Old 01-06-2020, 12:13 AM #7
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welcome to the forum, I'm also new here I hope we enjoy the community and learn from each other.
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Old 01-13-2020, 01:44 AM #8
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So at some point your beloved black T4R got into an accident, you were injured, and...where is this going?
Yes, there's a video uploaded onto youtube of the incident, apparently the hospital has caught wind and is terrified of getting sued for what they did, which was nothing short of leaving me for dead on the side of the road, as a bmw diehard I never thought I'd be here, but where this is going I don't want to say just yet, because naturally I am not the type of person to ask for help, in any way, it's always been difficult for me, but owning that 4Runner has opened my eyes to something that can't be undone/unseen.

I want to link you guys to the footage, but also could use help in uploading the footage. Though as a 3d modeler and animator, without a computer, I don't have the tools to do so, so that's been a very difficult obstacle to overcome, I'm shocked I'm still alive, truly, but right now I'm fighting to get my right ankle MRI'd because last friday it was rolled on the 3rd, and when I went down, I felt and heard some snaps. Doctors refuse to MRI my ankle being a cancer patient with medicaid, as they cringe at me telling me they don't want to run these tests because "it's late and they're expensive." They literally said that, just like that, with a cringe smirk on their face like they farted or something.

Hang on guys, have some faith, a whopper is coming in terms of a post, it's a novel, it's a long story long I'm afraid, but I need you all. Never thought the TRD 4Runner from 2016 in quicksand would've captured my heart to only lead me on a specific conquest to attain one, only to later be mind blown by the new avalon touring refresh, was interested in one the year prior and fell in love with the newer lexus like design. Was going to try and meet the foils at the chicago auto show to deliver my hand written letter/plight, but as you can imagine, I'm walking through fire these days.

Someone let me know if I should make a new thread to drop the bigger post in, simply just let me know, because it makes for a better introduction. I've been reaching out to all the online communities I used to frequent before my computer got destroyed, and am trying to reconnect with them, it's been a lapse for sure, and a lot of ground to cover. I'll put it this way, I have to explain to you guys 9.5 years of unimaginable suffering in a certain length that might not fit in this character count per-post. So it may take multiples. So I'll start off the thread tonight, it won't be the finished version, but again, I'm going to really need your support.

Thanks in advance to anyone out there listening.
Respectfully, antithesis
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Old 01-13-2020, 02:56 AM #9
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I'm going to attempt to drop the thread content here, see if it fits, if not, I'll put the new thread up with a title in it.

Long Story Long I'm afraid so bear with me everyone.

I'd tried to get this written and posted on or before thanksgiving, then that came and went, then christmas, then new years eve, on then my birthday, which in March will mark 3 years since a very near-fatal occurrence as a result of fatigue and chemotherapy, this I will eventually get to near the end of this post. Though I write to you all to tell my story. It's hard to believe I've lost an entire decade of my life and what you're about to read is that story and that prognosis of the following might mean losing my life. As one can imagine why I'd try to get this message out during these time periods, well, it's obvious, because it's this time of year you'd expect even strangers to care, to commiserate, empathize, have a heart.... thinking people would give a damn at least a tiny bit more than usual. Imagine what you're about to read, and know that on every festive date that came and went, it was you in my shoes, enduring what I have thus far. Today, the 1st of the new year.... marks 5 years and 4 months straight (probably longer) that I've been on a TKI (tyrosine kinase inhibitor) chemotherapy with supporting medications for symptoms and side effects for CML (chronic meyloid leukemia) leukemia. Which is why I'm writing this now. Its sad and I tear up as I type this because I just realized, for nearly as long as I've been on chemo, I've been homeless and as doctors regularly turn me down and ignore my concerns for over 3 years now regarding another potential cancer, I've realized that I'm without a doubt in the fight of my life. And this is my story.... it needs to be told, in case I don't make it, things have really gotten so much worse than what you're going to be linked to at later on in this post.

Through my journey so far I've encountered far too many people who've been encouraging me to write my story into a book, or at least blast it on social media, and under this light they are right about one thing.... My story has to be told, and others have to learn from this. It's been 9 and a half years of pure loss. I might as well have been dead or in prison, in retrospect nobody would've ever known the difference. It all started on July 28th, 2010, at 10:36 AM on my way to work. A lowly dead end job in hopes to save money and be able to go to college to learn how to make video games and finally be able to afford a proper vehicle and more on that part later, it's very integral actually. I was injured severely in an auto accident. Not my fault.... before some of you jump that gun, a woman with two DUIs and no license pulled out in front of me at an intersection and in the blink of an eye, I lost everything, didn't know it really at the moment of course, but at age 22, my first ever auto accident experience. I couldn't have been more alone. Before I go on, the injuries I sustained and learned of within the year that followed are as follows.

From 7-28-2010 Through January of 2011
  • Suspected rotator cuff tear followed by diagnostic left should arthroscopic surgery on November 30th of 2010.
  • Surgery revealed dorsal scapular nerve damage, left sided
  • Brachiel plexus nerve root damage and multiple impingements, otherwise known as a "winging shoulder blade" or a "sick scapula." Or Dyskinesis with left shoulder ligament synovitis and tendinopathy and left shoulder fray around all the soft tissues.
  • Multiple bulging discs and herniations throughout my entire spine, from my neck all the down to my sacrum, the butt bone where your hips meet in the back at the base of your spine.
  • Atrophy induced carpel tunnel on both wrists from not being able to play drums and or draw for a very long time, and am still extremely limited in this regard to this day.

From January 26th to March 23rd of 2011 the following was confirmed
  • Left hip impact cam lesion ( bone spur ) causing an impingement in my left hip known as FAI requiring surgery to prevent an eventual hip replacement and also requiring stem cell treatments known as PRP or platelet rich plasma therapy post-op which I still have not been able to have to this day. As a skateboarder of 21 years there's no words to describe how soul crushing this particular injury is to me.
  • Torn Labrum causing the hip instability and the bone spur to move freely inside the hip socket causing constant damage and deterioration until the surgery mentioned previously can be successfully had and rehabbed with stem cell treatments for my cartilage.
  • Centro-lateral mal-rotation of my spine intertwined with the bulging and herniated discs, impinging nerves and my spinal cord, causing unspeakable pain that's always present requiring surgery as well along with additional stem cell therapies. The centro-lateral bone structures of my spine vertebrae are tangled up with nerves causing constant inflammation signalling.

Now it's important to note when I got diagnosed with cancer, I had already been studying orthopedics for a while, and knew that because my cancer is leukemia, in my blood and bone marrow, I can no longer have these "orthopedic corrections" because the operations are needed to be done on my hip bone, one of two areas in the body that harbor the most bone marrow and could potentially spread the cancer. The worst part about all of this is it could've been so very averted, avoided and is extremely unnecessary that I'm in still in this position today. More on that later....Now I'm sure a lot of you who've read thus far are thinking to yourselves.... where's this dudes family? Where was a lawyer to help him through the insurance claims process to make him whole again? Where was any support that one would ordinarily think and assume to be present? Well.... this is where things get really ugly.

Before I say anything else on this just remember this one paragraph as you read, and keep it in mind as it comes to light later, my so-called "family" knew that my injuries and the consequences of this accident left me severely injured obviously and ultimately disabled, I lost everything, my college and professional ambitions, the woman I wanted to marry, my money, my body, my job, my car, everything. Its true what they say, when you're in an auto accident those first few seconds are so slow, around what I've been able to quantify as roughly 2-4,000 FPS frames per-second, I still remember seeing the little droplets of mountain dew flying through the air at this speed thinking about exactly this in slow motion. Though back on the rails, I would've never guessed or seen coming they'd leave me for dead like they did.... and worse, even as bad as things with them where anyway. They were never supportive of any of what I went through, leaving me impossibly alone. Matter of fact a lot of their actions and behavior contributed greatly to the exacerbation of the entirety of my situation.

In late 2016 I found out why.... but we're not there yet. Following the accident my left shoulder was clearly messed up and still is, though in 2010 I began a 9 month physical therapy mission which is when the surgery took place about 4 to 5 months into the that physical therapy at a frequency of 3-5 days a week, surrounding various orthopedic doctor appointments. I remember I had to have one of my friends drive me to my surgery which took nearly 12 hours in total, under anesthesia for 7.5 hours, my poor friend, waited the whole time in that waiting room. None my own family members wouldn't even drive me to the surgery.Post-Op was pretty awful and were/when I started to catch a glimpse of what was really going on around me, I'll never forget it. My "family" for some reason was ridiculing me for everything I was going through, like I'd done it to myself in some derelict fashion of some sort. It was within the first 3 days back after post-op, after the first 24 hours of the nerve block wearing off, I was in such bad shape and horrible pain that for two weeks I had to have someone else change my shirt for me friends, anyone.

At any rate, I was prescribed pain killers, first time I"d ever taken them in my life. They didn't really work, I just felt super nauseous, couldn't eat for 15 days aside from small amounts of crackers and sprite/ginger ale. Got constipated so badly I didn't have any kind of bowel movement for 15 days and had to take clinical grade laxative that almost didn't work. Couldn't sleep either for the first 6 days and 15 hours.... it was awful, by day 4 into 5 I was in a daze and barely conscious. By the 3 day mark though is what I really wanted to touch on, from the painkillers I thought I was going to puke, I somehow made it to the bathroom to the toilet, I don't really remember how I got in there, meaning if I needed help in there or not. Though after a while, I had gotten so sick without even throwing up yet, that I couldn't even move, my face was laying on the side of my cheek on the tile floor next to the toilet, I repeat, I was unable to move. While I was laying there unable to gasp for help, or move, I could hear every single member of my family in the basement (where the bathroom was) because that's where everyone in the family had to smoke their cigarettes, due to an oldest half sister having a kid, some stupid initiative that never panned out. Anyway, while I lay there on the floor, I couldn't tell you how much time had passed, but while I was on the ground paralyzed, I could hear all siblings, 8 others and both parents just laying insult after insult on me like they were building a brick wall. Each insult and degrading comment, felt like another weight or brick laid on top of me, making me feel more and more ill and immobile as I laid there on the floor. After a while, with 3 other bathrooms in that house, my dad came in, and with a really condescending tone he asks, "what the F are you doing?"

Now mind you, I can't move, and I can't speak, I'm barely breathing. He proceeds to cuss at me and tell me to get out as if I can move. I'm non-responsive, so he thinks I'm bluffing, I guess, and proceeds to whip out his you-know-what, and starts taking a piss. I couldn't move, and I still remember the feeling of the droplets bouncing off the water in the toilet bowl hitting the side of my face and cheek as I lay there unable to move on that tile floor.

Later on your going to hear about how this next "family" member, my younger sibling brother, came in right after, and was the only person to even check on me, he helped me up, and moved me into a storage room in a rocking chair where I stayed from 10PM at night until 6:58AM in the morning without being able to move.... all exposed concrete, drywall, black mold in there, radon shooting out of the exposed concrete and insulation. Whats in insulation people? Styrene, Formaldehyde, chromium, silica, and so on on top of rodents and insects. It was pretty much a meat grinder in there. Though that same brother became the catalyst of how I became homeless in June of 2015. Which is why I mention that part in particular, and again, hate to say, but we're gonna get to that later on in this novel. How I came to discover the injuries and later confirm them is what's up next here, kind of re-treading the same stuff but it's important to fill you in contextually on what happened in the time since that night, and December of 2010. Before I'd confirmed the later set of injuries that I listed above. So throughout this time, I had been experiencing the really bad back and left rib-flank area pain on top of the hip pain and its instability, weird pins and needles and clicking, crunching type stuff, noises and sensations. I had mentioned this to my physical therapists months prior while working on my shoulder, but they maintained I stay the course and ask my orthopedic doctor about it when I was cleared off the shoulder and able to move onto investigating other areas of the body. Once finally cleared to look into my hip and spine near January and March of 2011, my hip and spine specialist on a bare bones x-ray, nailed every damn "suspicion" of his just by looking at a damn x-ray, now mind you, I had no idea what this guy was talking about, aside from the stem cell shots into the spine for the herniated discs and other bulging ones hitting my nerves and spinal cord. The man was spot on, so he said the only way to confirm that there was a torn labrum with a bone spur, was an arthrogram, an MRI where they stick a lumbar needle in your joint space, and inject dye for the MRI to give a better image to detect torn cartilage, and that wasn't able to be confirmed until July of 2012, and that's where I'm heading with all this. One of the big reasons as to why I wasn't able to really do anything regarding these injuries in terms of diagnosis was due to having exhausted all physical therapy visits on my health insurance plan at the time, and everything the doctor was recommending was deemed "experimental and investigative, and diagnostic" so therefore it wouldn't be covered an obviously there was no way to pay for it, so I had to wait.

So 2012, came around, and I paid my $5,000 deductible to be covered at 100% (to this day I still don't know how that happened or who paid it cause I didn't have that money) and the next round of finding out what the hell was wrong with me ensued. So there I was, in March of 2011, not really sure of how bad my hip was, working on my shoulder still, not knowing what to do. So I decided later that year to go back to school, in August of 2011. Really out of spite from all the "fantasy bond" abuse I'd endured up to that point from my "family." An old friend from all the way back to kindergarten through high school ran into me prior to all this happening and somehow planted a seed in my head making me believe I was worth more. I wanted at the time of this run-in with this old female friend, to join the Navy and be a SEAL, though she talked me out of it somehow and like I mentioned, convinced me to hold myself to a higher standard and go to college to learn how to make video games. I owe her a lot for that really. At the time I'd been deciding between the International Academy of Design & Technology in Chicago or the Art Institute of Chicago, my major was a Bachelors in Game Art & Design which was ultimately decided on and with the Art Institute, they had the better program for it. I had been trying to teach myself how to make video games and wanted to learn how to code/program, and make websites also but didnít know where to start before all of this. So I went somewhere I had in mind for a while as I said, donít know why exactly, but when I was there, being around other people like me, artists, creationists, I dare say I had never felt more at home in my entire life aside from the brief moments I remember with the woman I thought I was gonna marry. Somewhere I could be of service to others, to show them, tell them that anybody bashing them for their efforts, to tell someone they failed as a creationist, as an artist? What a horrible thing to do.... That's one of the worst things that could ever happen to them. I accidentally found myself able to pull them away from darkness and to show them thanks first in this environment, to lead by example, somewhere that allowed me to be myself and help others, somewhere to shine.... Dare I say somewhere I belonged? It was overwhelming at first that sensation, but the raw talent/skill rose above it quickly as I used this school attendance as an escape from "home."

Growing up I was always deprived of my musical and artistic talents, ignored for the most part by a very vain, materialistic mother who used our fatherís physical abuse and brutality to enforce upon me and others our self worth measured by appearance, like "fleshy failures" deemed too ugly to be worth anything.... A mother who was more interested in a $40K in-ground pool, plastic surgery all over, a 75K+ german-import vehicle, but never thought about putting the idea in her children's heads that they could ever be good enough or ever amount up to being worth a college degree and a life well lived and or to aim for the stars. More interested in ridding her face of a wrinkle than anything else. Itís no wonder her children and daughter never dreamed about their futures like they shouldíve. Never allowed to play drums or piano (certainly never in the house,) or any other musical instruments on top of the two instruments I fell in love with the most at age 11. Which is one very carnal shame, considering my music, my art is and has been the only thing thatís kept me going, kept me sound and resolute even when things seemed the worst, completely hopeless and lost. And thatís where it starts.

That fever, that rage, the feeling of hopelessness and powerlessness that turns a good man into something he's not, something cruel even. I suppose I could just go ahead/on and on and talking about how those who call themselves my ďfamilyĒ completely ignored my life getting obliterated in the wake of the wreck and actually preyed on it instead. As it only opened the gates to allow siblings to do and get away with unspeakable things during my trip through the legal and medical meat grinder over the past 9.5 years. But again, Iíll get into that later and, and would rather the video, the footage that there is, to speak for itself, which will take me time to get uploaded and frankly before I continue, I'm going to need help with that part.I can only call it (what I've been through) completely and total ennui and or a battery of indignities. It's been nothing short of exactly that, **a battery of indignities.**

Yes, there's video, A LOT of it, and I need all the help I can get to get this footage out to the masses, people need to know the truth. Especially if I'm not going to survive what I'm going through. To think this all started because I simply wanted for once in my life a nice car, one I could depend on to go to college and be independent and forever away from the abuse that you who may be reading, are only getting a tiny taste of even through this large post.
College at the time, seemed to keep the negativity off my back for a while but only faintly. Though my classes were 4 days a week, and I had to take a two hour train ride each way to get to and from, so up at 5AM and 6AM every other day to make classes at 10 AM and noon on alternating days, pretty exhausting to say the least. August of 2011, to March of 2012 is when things really started to take a turn for the worst. Ahead of time in early November of 2011, I changed my schedule from 4 days a week to 2 for the upcoming semester, while maintaining the same amount of credits/classes, but for some reason things seemed to have gotten more difficult in every way. At this time I had suspected having cancer for about a year, maybe two, but didnít actually know it. I had nobody to talk to about it, as the fear fell to the wayside, operating on 3-4 hours of sleep a night for 9 months straight without much food, getting into January of 2012.... well, this is where the heat really got turned up. As my class was math in the morning, life drawing right after (live nude model drawing) and creating video games immediately after, I was in class from 10AM until 6PM each of these days without a second of a break. I could never really muster up the energy or gumption to pay closer attention as to why things seemed to have been getting more difficult for me, in terms of getting by and through classes. I had settled part of my personal injury this is where I mention the lawyer and claims process and how my attorneys in all actuality, screwed me in ways I often can't find the words for, I mean really, whats the cost of a mans youth? From age 22 to 31, what kind of price do you put on that? Is there even a dollar amount that could fill that hole?

Due to my attorney revealing to me that he'd screwed my case up as badly as he did, I settled the first portion of the case 6 months prior to this for $50,000 of the at fault driverís insurance policy which was Allstate, but that was to pay for medical bills which were $56,000 and climbing at the time. So I got a large portion of that paid off and was left with close to nothing that was supposed to pay for my hip scope as I proceeded through my own insurance companies under-insured motorist coverage and this is where things got really bad. Which was against american family insurance. They refuse to pay out, apparently their defense lawyer who works for them has a notorious reputation for doing this to people who are legitimately and severely injured, and because I could only obtain another 50K at a time when my medical specials (what lawyers call medical bills) had a trajectory of exceeding 1.3 million by April of 2013 which wouldn't even come close to touching the expense of my needed hip surgery thatís needed alone along with everything one would need to endure such a operation with uncovered stem cell therapies. It's because of this at this time lawyers wonít touch my case. This company claims to advertise heavily on protecting your dreams as a policyholder, when all theyíve done is completely shatter and destroy mine for the sake of profit. Though to keep on task during this timeline, January of 2012, my parents and family started upping the ante on the degradation. In January, my parents asked to borrow a thousand dollars to go on vacation in cancun mexico, and said theyíd pay me back right after dishing out their interval abuse. Never felt like I had a choice and they never paid me back While they were gone for their 7-10 days, the abuse I endured from siblings aided in me falling behind in classes when the authority left the house leaving the other siblings to werewolf and run wild in regards to derogatory and demeaning degradation. Almost like a campaign of their own was launched to make me as uncomfortable as humanly possible. Later in march, as I struggled to maintain my 4.0 GPA (which ended up a 3.8) I noticed my savings had fallen from my computer case shortly before I left for campus on my day off nearing my finals, and had reluctantly texted my mom to make sure nobody found it and stole it.

Obviously a mistake, but when I got back, an additional $1300 was stolen, and my parents conveniently went on vacation to mexico again shortly after. By the end of March, I knew I couldnít keep it up, even though I had condensed my schedule down to two days, for some reason it seemed harder like I mentioned before, almost costing me an entire quarter of classes and my grades, plus tuition costs. So I decided to take a break and continue treating for my hip, I needed confirmation regarding that injury. After I somehow pulled off an A for a grade in my game art and design class which I thank my professor for. I passed out for 17 hours, and when I woke up on March 25th, the day before my birthday, I began looking at hip specialists to get the recommended MRA arthrogram to confirm as to if my cartilage was torn or not with a cam lesion. It took forever to get an appointment anywhere, I tried scheduling at RUSH university, but they wouldnít accept me as a patient unless I gave them all my car insurance money and information, which I obviously couldnít do. Then, I scheduled at North Shore in Evanston, IL, I refrained from telling them that the reason for my visit was due to an injury from an auto accident because of my experience with trying to schedule with RUSH. Didnít matter, the doctor ordered the MRA, and a bone scan which I filmed for documentary purposes. Now I had to wait for this, until the first week of july to get the tests done being as it was early june of that year. And I had been trying to rekindle the flame with the love of my life at the time. She always got the best of me, but this time, things were pretty serious. I reached out to her and told her, the first and only at the time that I told, that I thought I might have cancer. Nobody in my family would listen, they just balked at me, ostracized me, called me crazy, told me I needed a straight jacket, that I needed to be in the loony bin, that it was all in my head, you name it they said and did it. So she was kind enough to listen and potentially help when I was impossibly alone, with no support of any kind, extremely troubled and bothered by an abusive family that was not helping the situation and making it worse. Though the abuse spoiled the relationship, and I lost that love again, for a second time which crushed me. Though the devastation was so, that I further sunk into the belief again that I would never amount into anything in this world, something my family/parents had ingrained in me from a young age. I was inexplicably stuck. So what does one do at a time like that? Believe the hate.

When youíre told something enough times you believe it, even if itís something you know isnít true. You get treated a certain way long enough you become convinced you deserve it, you feel it. Thatís what happened to me, so I stopped looking, before I say anything else its important you know I found it more than 4 years later by accident in an ER visit which we'll get to. Things like, ďgo kill yourselfĒ among much worse and others were all that were echoed my way and still to this day. Right when this happened, it was the first week of July in 2012, I got the results from my hip, and was practically giving up on looking for the cancer I suspected I had. I then got robbed of another thousand dollars cash while on the phone with this particular female, left my keys to my safe out and a younger sibling got to it. That was a rough blow, right after filming earlier that week for a fundraiser (which only left me with footage and an unfinished documentary) I was working on for myself and other students, one of which had cystic fibrosis, and was having to drop out due to medical reasons like myself. The working title for that was ďEmpathy Vs. Apathy.Ē

After my experience in Chicago, I couldnít help but notice the abundance of apathy everywhere, and knew something big would have to be done to jar people out of apathy and into action. Though this is the time where things really got bad, just when you thought the dial couldn't get cranked up higher. As it continues to do so throughout the lineage of this story.

From the summer of 2012, to present. So Iíll try my best to recap as I struggle to write this. The first week of July of 2012, after losing contact with the love of my life againÖ.

I was lost as could be, and then something even more ridiculous happened. My dad seemed to think I had $10,000 that he could ask of me, will never forget this. It never even seemed like a question, moreover a demand in which I had no say. Though I didnít have that kind of money and actually considered giving it to him, though I didnít, thank goodness. Yet later in September right after, they stole the very last of my money and that marked the true beginning of how and why I am in the position I am in today. On september 18th of 2012, he pulled the same stunt at midnight, demanding what money I had left from me ($3200 to my name, that was it) thinking I had more. I'll never forget my dad trying to tell me "it was a life and death situation," I told him that was all I had, so he took it anyway, it was to purchase the property under his restaurant to save him an alleged $2500 on overhead/bills every month, and figured if I did, at least heíd be able to pay me back at $1000 a month which is what he had told me he'd do. It took 3 months for me to learn, that they had no intention of paying me back.

I recorded the whole trip to the bank on my phone at the time with my mom in the car, had to go to my safety deposit box to get the cash, and hand it to her, (which will be featured in a video if necessary.)

This was September 19th, 2012. By January of 2013, I lost my vehicle, later in april I lost my health insurance, and a working cell phone.


30,000 character limit, posting the next 30,000 shortly, it's a 59K character post that like I said, is 4.5 years short still.


Its nearly 1am, I typed that all in one go, in about 46 minutes, I'm dead beat, took chemo about 3 hours ago. I intend to finish this and continue to work on it tomorrow night. I hope you all can understand and moderators I beg of you, some of this stuff is tough to read, but this story needs to be told and more so needs to be learned from. I've got 4.5 more years left to speed you all up on, and believe it or not, it gets worse. Hang in there everyone.

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Old 01-13-2020, 02:58 AM #10
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Location: around chicago
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Part 2 Still unfinished

Things progressively got worse from there, the verbal abuse, the physical abuse, all I would ever hear from siblings was encouragement telling me to go kill myself and later when cancer was a reality to them and me as this story traverses into 2014, ďJust die already or leave,Ē repeatedly (featured in the video yet to come,) threats of physical violence was barraged my way on a very regular basis simply in attempt to provoke me into defending myself physically so that when or if I did, they could turn around and try to pull the "lynch mob lie" tactic, and claim to be a victim and later oust me onto the street. Which by this time, I was kinda contemplating, my younger brother I mentioned earlier after my shoulder surgery... a year from this point will be revealed to be a heroine addict, and actually caused exactly that, homelessness, but we're not there yet.

This was their plan all along I came to learn. This of course by this point had gone on for yearsÖ. and only got worse. I went for 2 and half years looking for ways to obtain money to purchase a vehicle with no success. Nobody would let me use a car, nor consistently enough to remedy that problem let alone eat regularly or get a job. This went on the entire time, I was never allowed to shower, use the bathroom, eat or sleep on any of my own time/schedule. I was left to seek refuge on a dining room floor to sleep, or a broken leather couch which actually got me sick, or the toxic storage room where billows of cigarette smoke would flow over the drop ceilings and through the styrene and formaldehyde exposed insulation, along with black mold and radon that I told you about earlier which. So obviously/naturally thatís why I chose not to sleep in their toxic substandard space and slept only on floors or a couch that was wellÖ. not any help at all in terms of getting some recuperative sleep. All I did was fall to the mercy of the abuse, stolen possessions and belongings, prescription medications from my addict brother and sister as my parents just sat in their bathroom and smoked like chimneys and drank like fish, their nightly vice which is all they ever cared about. Still do to this day. So fast forward to May of 2014 when I accidentally found the cancer I'd been looking for all along. So one day, I wake up to someone in that dining room having closed a window while I slept, I had left it open, probably another stolen amount of prescription drugs I thought, but I had noticed that my lymph nodes in my neck were extremely swollen, my ears were getting just as bad and later worse. So I debated as to whether or not I should go to the hospital with no insurance. I did eventually, and kept getting kicked out after finding out my white blood cell count was over 40,000 points. I was told there after waiting 6 and a half hours in agony in a notoriously awful ER. Found out that a normal count was 1,000-4,000 or so. So I knew something was wrong but no doctors were saying anything, literally. It took about 5 more visits over the next 5 weeks of me getting kicked out and not being admitted because I didnít have insurance, (this part is recorded on video, the hospital, getting kicked out and told I had cancer.) When they finally mentioned to me in early June that they thought I had leukemia. I was so offended by the suggestion considering they did almost no tests to make such a statement or diagnosis let alone suggest it. I was only able to pick up on this as I'd read the discharge papers where a diagnosis of "leukocytosis." What this is, is white cells (the leukocyte count) above the normal range in the blood. It is frequently a sign of an inflammatory response, most commonly the result of infection, but may also occur following certain parasitic infections or bone tumors as well as leukemia.

After I first spotted this, complete disarray sets in psychologically for me, but I've got no one to talk to. Iím told to go to a doctor near by, a hematologist oncologist, who wasnít available, due to lies from the ER, typical. So I wound up seeing the same doctor who treated my older half sister for Hodgkins lymphoma as a replacement weeks later. Ironic, two cancers caused by radon radiation in two siblings sleeping in a basement next to the concrete walls spewing that radiation out at us. I remember reading research data on radon exposure, and that's what I found, is that radon is notorious for causing specifically lymphomas and leukemia's, and her hair was falling out, and so was mine, I was only 24/25 at the time. My immediate thought on that reading was, "I knew it."

June 16th, 2014

I see this doctor, and he confirms what the ER was telling me through some alleged blood test which wasn't fully made clear to me, I recorded this all on video, each appointment with this doctor as my family still mocked me for having cancer, or in their minds, me making it up that I thought I had it.

I start to get pummeled by the aforementioned abuse even harder now. I still to this day remember when he said the words, I sat their like a rock, I didn't even flinch and the first words across the billboard in my mind was, "I knew it."

It wasn't even that fact that I had cancer that put me in this state of silence, it was him telling me he thought it was leukemia, I could literally feel the life and desire to live to start to leave me at that very moment. As the doctor then proceeds to tell me he thinks Iíve had this a while, and recommends a bone marrow biopsy for staging purposes, I was still silently in my mind processing hearing the word leukemia, knowing what it meant, what was in store for me, what lies ahead, and to hear that there is no cure for my particular type.... I couldn't help but sit inside my head and scream, "how many damn years looking for this, and then not, only to find out I was right all along, and not being able to do a damn thing about it." After missing all 3 summers previous to this one, I had been naturally hungry for a good one and really needing one quite frankly, or even some good sunny days to try and enjoy up onto and before this point in time, though after this visit, the bone marrow biopsy scheduled a week or so out, the 25th to be exact, I remember looking up into the sky, not a cloud in the sky, the specularity of the sun beaming on the lush green leaves of trees, the gleam of the blue sky and piercing sunshine, just starring upwards at it all, I'd discovered that it wasn't the same anymore, what I found so beautiful in that was gone, that diagnosis had stolen the life from me that day.

The sun didn't look or feel the same, the chlorophyll that makes leaves and foliage green didn't look the same, the blue in the sky wasn't as majestic or.... medicinal even, hell.

My sunny days were ruined. I'd later come to learn through my own introspective, that the abuse of my family made me feel like I deserved this. Starring at that sky wondering when exactly I'd lost my sense of purpose. Or and only to wonder if I could even regain what was lost inside. When I arrived back to my parents house, there was only my mom sitting in her bathroom, and I tried to tell her, she wigged out on me for some odd reason, still sticks out in my mind/memory the way she did. It was strange, like she enjoyed hearing it to some degree, only to later complain about it to my heroine addict brother like it was a fake burden I was trying heap upon them. Later that year I wound up in the hospital for over 5 days straight on 3 different types of chemo 24 hours around the clock the whole time. Though the reason for that is tied to the sentiment of the previous sentence you just read. They again, still not believing me, or at least as the on-surface impression they projected outward among the rest of the "family." Only to later berate me with disbelief, again calling me crazy, telling me to leave and get out of the house, insulting, belittling me, then later physically attacking me in two instances right near father's day. One right after it and one one the day of.

After the official diagnosis on June 16th of 2014, I had called a friend who'd been offering me cannabis for any measure of relief, and I'd been turning him down, which I'll get to in a minute, merely because I was just fearful as hell from the looming bone marrow biopsy, which I demanded to be put under anesthesia for because my sister had it done, and even without that secondhand experience, I knew it was awful.... also having been in so much low back and hip pain, I warned the doctors, that if they didn't put me under, I'd thrash around from the pain, so they agreed to do so under anesthetic. Though before this could happen, I called my friend on the way out of the doctors visit, and told him I'd take him up on his offer, he gave me a giant nug, and I used a vaporizor because I didn't want to smoke, smoke causes lung-inflammation and my cancer was in the blood, so naturally from my studies, I just avoided it at all cost. What comes next will surprise many of you reading. My white blood cell count around this time, was 89,000.... pretty damn high. After using this single nug gave me, I had no tolerance, so a small amount worked wonders, I had no clue it was actually killing the cancer, and working better than the chemo I'd later come to learn whilst in the hospital which I'm about to get into. I did the bone marrow biopsy, and when I came out of anesthesia, my doctors and nurses were there trying to explain the numbers to me but before that, told me I had to call someone to drive me back to my parents house. I called my neighbor, and told him to come and pretend to drive me there, so I could drive the car I'd used to drive to the hospital back to where it came from, borrowed it from a friend. He agreed, came in, and out we went. But before we did, the doctors told me, that my white count in just one week exactly, had dropped to 31,000. I was thinking in my head at that moment, "holy sh*t this stuff actually works."

Fast forward to Late September of 2014 Right after the Bone Marrow Biopsy on 6-25-14

Through the summer, my neighbor, who used to be a good friend of mine a good deal of the way through school, from about 4th or 5th grade up to this point, was all I had to talk to and was actually quite relieving due to a family member of his getting diagnosed with cancer as well in the same year which I'll explain in a second. The only person that I could communicate with intellectually and also know that they were indeed hearing me, or so I thought for the most part. He definitely helped, and at this point, I hadn't touched any kind of cannabis in any form in nearly 4 years, I'd been trying to get a decent job for so long and they all required drug tests. So he mentions it to me as potential treatment, and I just in jest say in my own way, "thanks but no thanks." Which I really did mean, I was grateful that he not only offered, but was kind enough to show he cared, because earlier that year his mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer.

It pains me to look back on this period of time because as much as my friend cared, I couldn't see how powerless he really was in the grand scheme of things. So the summer came and went, and I would chit chat with him throughout this time to help me through, untreated with a cancer that wasn't covered by insurance. I went nearly 4 full months of knowing I had cancer, without being able to be treated in any way at all. Finally, in september, somehow I got on state medicaid, which would cover a chemo drug I named in the opening of this story, the TKI, Gleevec it's called, and it was costing the insurance to provide it to me, 13,600 dollars a month.

So I started it in total disappointment because me and my neighbor wanted to try the famous "rick simpson oil" regiment before any conventional treatment, to see if it actually worked by this time of the year due to our research and previous experience. Though, the chemo became necessary as I was getting worse because of no healthcare coverage, and we couldn't find a way to obtain the oil needed to treat me adequately. The regiment calls for it to be taken 6 months straight, every single day, and the cost, for this, is even more astronomical than the chemotherapy drug. So I started to take the chemo. My body started to react badly to it, I started getting worse, and wound up in the hospital. The hematologist oncologist even (again, recorded on video) lied in his clinical notes claiming I had been refusing to take this drug, or any treatment at all, to cover his ass, even though I had my cell phone recording the visits in fear of medical negligence and was right in doing so. Pretty much every time I ever have. Anyway, there I was in the hospital, I think it was the first or second week of October of 2014 which I have pretty heavily documented on video and photo which again, I'll link to when I get this written, who knows, maybe sooner. Anyhow, for 5 or nearly 6 days straight in the hospital, on 3 different types of chemo including the gleevec, the drugs were still struggling to get my white blood cell count down from a fatal 189,000, I'm told that's near what's called "blast phase" which is the end stage of the leukemia where a bone marrow transplant would become emergent and a last ditch effort in regards to treatment. I was away from the abuse of my "family" for this duration, and what sounds like a nightmare in the hospital, was actually a cake walk, it was a vacation to me by day 4 and 5, even telling my nurses as such. I was actually on 3 different types of chemo, 2 that usually are taken for lymphoma patients, and the main one called Gleevec, the TKI. Getting food brought to me whenever I wanted.... well not whenever but enough to where I wasn't starving, had a TV and remote to kill time with, mainly sat on my computer at the time though and just documented everything, and again, I have a large portion of this specific hospital stay on camera. Ran it off my computer, it was so nice to not hear constant sounds of directed sonic abuse heading my way.

It was jarring and traumatizing actually not hearing all of that abuse heading my way, both the verbal and physical, felt very much like a PTSD come to think of it. Which is why I mention all this, I remember thinking to myself, "wow I can't believe that even a small part of me views this as a relief/vacation/escape from what was awaits me back at my parents house." The patient next to me had dementia and cancer, he'd just come out of surgery and had a catheter in. Though he kept forgetting and kept also trying to pull it out. I constantly kept hearing him on the other side of the curtain yelling "Ouch!!!" Then his nurses would come in and remind him what was going on. This went on for the first 2-3 days before the nurses noticed it was keeping me up, and really starting to bother me. I couldn't focus on anything, eat, go to the bathroom, or sleep, nothing at all with him in there and I hadn't even really viewed the man in that light to think it myself. Though the nurses quickly moved him after he vomited all over 2 of them and sh*t the bed at the same time. I couldn't believe that happened, poor woman walked out with chest paint all over her right past my face. The doctors where very touch and go, they sucked, the actual oncologists. They didn't care it seemed like, every time I'd try to spark some dialogue with them, they'd just ignore me and it always seemed like they were trying to "get away" from me when I'd start asking the hard questions. At any rate, eventually my white count got down to the 40,000's, and then the 30,000's and for some reason they thought that this was enough to let me go back to my parents. Wow was that a mistake. The first 3 days back I was on crutches the first day, googled what the hell was going on with my body which I learned as follows. The TKI chemo builds up in the joints, because it targets the bone marrow telling a sub-group of blood cells not to grow, one of which eventually winds up being the cancer cell once fully matured and grown out of the stem cell. The others, same thing, but they are actual healthy blood cells my body actually needs that are being signaled not to grow all the way down to the DNA/RNA level. So through some research I'd discovered that sucrose and glucose, the natural sugar found in fresh fruit, like apples, pears, cantaloupe, etc. and vegetables like broccoli and whatever other leafy greens you can think of do a good job of spreading it around evenly throughout my bone marrow so that it doesn't build up in the joints. Suffice it to say, day two.... I couldn't move at all. The night before on day one, I was so wiped, that I just looked for a spot on the ground anywhere in my parents house to lay flat, found a spot in my parents dining room that never ever got used underneath the dining table partially, maybe once or twice a year it ever got touched or anyone ever walked through there, and was the only floor I thought even remotely clean enough, soft enough to lay down on, which eventually became my bed over the years.

So day two when I lay on my back and open my eyes at whatever hour the morning was, the pain was so damn bad, that I just silently in my mind waived the white flag, and for 16 hour straight, just stayed there, laying flat, couldn't move at all, and by this point you already know nobody gave a damn if they even saw or had an inkling of what I was going through. Day 3, back on crutches, though this time, it wasn't just most of my joints that were messed up, it was all of them. Day 1 was one shoulder, one knee and one hip. Day 3 was both shoulders, both hips, both knees, completely on fire. It radiated down through the bones, you could feel it travel the length of the femur, I remember that one vividly. My shoulders I can't even think of words to this day because the crutches in my armpits just made it so much worse, and I couldn't think straight enough to anticipate that part coming as I looked back on it a few days later. Though what happened next was and still is pretty shocking and awful, even to me and even after everything you've read so far.

My younger brother who's addicted to heroine steals my parents stash of their own cannabis, and they wig out, they question everyone in the house, which when they asked me, I just laughed, I literally responded in no other way or said anything in response, just a laugh and some mild giggling. They knew I had nothing to do with it, but out of spite, they deliberately refused to let me borrow a car, and drive less than 3 miles down the road to where my dad owns a restaurant, and eat food to take my chemo. For 5 days straight.... I starved, I had this powder meal replacement protein that was plant and fruit based, I used that, and a single pear a day for 5 days straight to survive, well more like starve, but yeah. Right out of the hospital for nearly a full week straight, and then the 3 days nearly incapacitated completely due to my body adjusting to being on the TKI chemo, and then in less than 5 days following that, "F you buddy you can't drive this car down the road to cook food to feed yourself because well, I said so because your younger brother snagged some of our pot." To this day I still don't have words to describe how that hit me inside, how that makes me feel even now, how it did then. All I can remember is this is when things after the diagnosis started to really turn. My neighbor friend, whom I'd told what had happened, had access to his dads truck, and I thought it strange that even then he didn't even think once to drive me down the road to where he used to even work/eat at one point with me. He never thought as I called him, emailed him, any of that what was going on, to drive me even one damn time, so I could go cook some food and finally eat, for 5 damn days. To this day.... I stare back at that moment in my mind still in complete awe of how obtuse that whole situation was to me, against me.


Though little did I know what was brewing yet and still behind the scenes even inside the very house I was trapped in. Some people might be thinking right now, why couldn't you use public transportation or anything like that? Well first off, there was none, this town is in the sticks, like way out there, so no pace or anything like that exists, and I'm surrounded by nothing but trees in about 20 miles in every direction if not further. So really in retrospect, they've always wanted me to have it as hard as possible, and little did I know, which is where this next section comes into play. During the summer of 2012, around the time when I originally reached out to my ex-girlfriend about support regarding suspecting having cancer, and when I simultaneously got robbed by a younger brother living in the house with his girlfriend to pay for their abortions and own indecent lifestyles. I heard through the grape vine in the oddest of ways. This is what I was told, that this specific younger brother had been running his mouth around town, really small town mind you readers, and this girlfriend of his, has a brother. This brother, happened to be dating one of 4 sisters of a friend I used to know since I could remember, and he was good friends with someone whom I've known for well over 20 years, we were like brothers, literally. When I come to tell when the homelessness finally hit in 2015 you'll hear about him. Anyhow, I remember calling him back then, right after I found out my money had been stolen, and because that girlfriend of his was in the same house as us, I told him to keep his eyes and ears peeled in case he heard anything abroad in that tiny town. What he told me next blew me right out of my shoes. I was told by him, that the brother of this girlfriend, had told the sister of my friend who'd he was dating ironically, that they were planning on accusing me of sexually abusing a kid..... that had yet to even be born FOR FOUR DAMN MONTHS!!!! October 30th of 2012, and I was hearing this in the first week of July of the same year. This was their plan, to get rid of me, out of the house, right after I'd contacted a cousin who one, wanted me to come live with him to straighten my life out and get away from their god awful influence, and then later even offered to spot me my own apartment until I could get steady on my feet. Though when family found out about that particular part which I tried my hardest to keep a secret, they poisoned that too little did I know, the reason why he pulled off and reneged on his offers, was because they lied to him about what I just told you. They told him they were afraid of me "touching" his daughter and god knows what other slew of lies pertaining to the same stomach churning mention, which to me, as a man who's wanted to be a father and now can't, due to injury and illness, there are no words for what I feel has been taken from me because of this. Moving on, so I had no idea that this had been their underlying narrative throughout the entire time until late 2016, actually I think it was January of 2017 I found out about this stuff, at any rate. I was told by this friend, that again this was their plan, also important to mention, right before I'd offered my older half brother 1500 dollars, 6 months of rent in advance to move in with him instead of the younger heroine addicted brother. Though they too stonewalled that effort as well which I urge to you remember this part well, because it comes up again later in 2016. Why want me out of the house so bad but get in the way on 3 separate occasions to do exactly that? Well as this goes on I think many of you should be smart enough spot the motive/plan in development for them. Money, they thought I was going to fall into a load of cash due to my personal injury case, what a joke. Like I said, they wanted it as difficult as possible for me, and around that time I was eyes deep in that personal injury insurance claim against a lawyer from american family insurance (who I do want to name personally) that was and still is notorious for trying to infiltrate families with private investigators to deny claims among other unspeakable and corrupt/illegal ways of spying on claimants. This was one of this particular attorneys tactics and had been told so by some very prominent attorneys in the chicago area who deal with him quite frequently.

Its nearly 1am, I typed that all in one go, in about 46 minutes,I'm dead beat, took chemo about 3 hours ago. I intend to finish this and continue to work on it tomorrow night. I hope you all can understand and moderators I beg of you, some of this stuff is tough to read, but this story needs to be told and more so needs to be learned from. I've got 4.5 more years left to speed you all up on, and believe it or not, it gets worse. Hang in there everyone.
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Old 01-21-2020, 01:49 AM #11
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CASCADING FAILURES - From October of 2014 to June 9th of 2015


This next year I'm about to describe really is the catalyst in many ways as to why I am what I am now, and where I am now, and what's its cost me, very well might not be able to be conveyed by words, which is why I mention the stockpile of video, audio and photo content I have on 13 external hard drives I desperately need to get online. Continuing on with the story though. I do my best to make it through the rest of that year, I dive deep into my video game development it's all I've got aside from drum sticks at this point, always outgunned but never out-manned in my talents, I had practically nothing to work with in terms of a viable computer powerful enough to get the job done, but I made due. The trick which under such duress, was to get a portfolio of my work online for someone to see in hopes to wrangle up a job that could finally pay me what I'm worth, and I could finally land where I aimed dating all the way back from before the accident. In a job, making games, not depressed, thriving, uplifting to those fellow artists and creationists around me, skateboarding and playing drums on my off time, smiling, driving a car that suited my ambitions not just needs, maybe happy even. What a prospect, one in which the mere thought of overwhelms me. Through this stretch I begin to find out just how far gone my younger brother is with his addiction, from arrests, to property inside the house getting stolen and pawned, and not just him, my youngest sister as well, it's really not like me to be tossing out dirty laundry in the wind like this, but truth be told, my story has to get told as mentioned a many times already. Just know that every time I mention this, is an inside battle knowing that I'm doing something I should've done when I was 17 years old, about to leave my parents house, to this day I wish I could go back to that moment and just walk out that front door, I would've been a million times better off than I am now. Staying on track, I muster my way through to March of 2015, and discover a program called "Unreal Developers Grants" which is a contest in a small way in which anyone building a game using Unreal Engine from Epic Games could win up to $50,000. I though to myself this had to be a message from above, that whoever it was looking out for me, was speaking to me, but without a computer, or hardware (DSLR cameras) or a workstation powerful enough to put this demo together, I stood no chance. So I looked to my neighbor who had DSLRs, not powerful enough for photogrammetry which is considered widely one of the most bleeding edge 3d modeling techniques due to it's unrivaled quality in terms of visual fidelity, but still enough to get the full amount awarded from my demo. Meaning in plain English, with this technique I'd been teaching myself via an online mentor through is work, I knew if I could just get access to any workstation long enough with the content I could create with little to no money utilizing the cameras from my friend, I could pull it off. Though that never happened, he let me borrow a camera for about 3 days, which I was able to test my theory, and I was spot on, but then came the problem of not having the insanely expensive software such as Zbrush, Maya 3d, Agisoft Photoscan Pro, Reality Capture, Marvelous Designer, SpeedTree Modeler, the list goes on, even at the time Adobe's Creative Suite Master Collection which was still available on disc and cost a pretty penny. Just to give you guys an example of how expensive these programs are, forget the computer that is equally expensive, Reality Capture alone costs (at that time) just over 17,000 US dollars. Yup, I was looking up a mountain without a doubt, but I knew what I knew, I knew what I was capable of, and I knew what I had, nobody else did, I knew I had what it took inside to do it. So I grind....

From March of 2015 to the first week of June of 2015, I struggled to keep this effort up, again it was if my family knew what I was trying to do, and was passively trying to stop me. Little did I know at the end of that first week, or first month even in June of 2015, my neighbor whom I thought was my friend, had been secretly communicating with my family members and siblings while also being fed lies about what I was up to in order to garner more help in their efforts to squeeze me out on the street. The summer was upon me, and the theft of my younger brother who stole so damn much from the entire family and not just me, to the point where not even my gopro being used as a security camera was stopping him at all, not one bit. It exacerbated to the point where having not just caught it all on video, but a judge at one point at the end of this particular eruption completely ignored me, and actually made me homeless in spite of having evidence sitting within a fingers reach in front of his face, and by doing so which I'll explain in greater detail next, rendered me homeless. So, here that part goes, the real moment it all came together, and on the street I was. I don't want to speed through too much of this because there's just way too much to write about and it's all important.

One day, I forget if it was exactly the 7th or the 8th of June, it's recorded so I tend to try and not think about it that much. But my camera is running, and I'm on my computer looking for storage units to put all my stuff away, by this time things in the house had become so hostile, that I could just feel something like this coming, like tremors in the ground, so I began to prepare as best I could. My neighbor, had finally caught a taste of how bad my brothers addiction was, I don't know exactly how, but he'd heard me tell him stories about what he'd been doing in the house, stealing all the flat screen TVs and pawning them, my moms wedding ring, other jewelry, my dads gun (yeah, I damn near sh*t myself when I heard about that one,) so he sat beside me one day a couple months right before all this happened, and let me borrow a safe of his to keep my hard drives in, among other things that were sensitive and valuable. It was in this moment that he told me that he was in just in awe of how far gone my younger brother was, and that he had no idea that he was as bad as he was. I was slightly taken aback by it because I had tried to tell him, but not surprised. Though, right before the day it all popped off, I could've never known this would've happened, my parents at one point tried getting into the safe I had borrowed until unknowingly to them I was able to move everything I owned into a storage unit safely away from them. So no matter what happened after that, at least everything I bled for, all my possessions, nothing/meager to anyone else, but meant the world to me and needed for my future in 3d modeling, would be safe. Suffice it to say, by the end of this stroke of theirs, I felt gutted like a fish. You'll later come to read about how this neighbor of mine was planning on helping my parents try and get into this safe, for whatever reason to me is irrelevant, I just knew that after finding out that he was trying to help them do so, was such a betrayal that I still have no words for it to this day. Maybe I will by the end of this. Though trying to continue on. I was only able to piece this together by re-watching the footage over and over again of where I put the key to the safe down, because someone had stolen it, and it was my mom. Apparently she'd been coordinating with my neighbor to try and break into it. I watched that video footage over and over and over until it finally clicked. I walked into the kitchen, took it off my neck, placed it down for not even 30 seconds, and she swiped it right behind me while my back was turned at the sink, just like her addict son, she stole that key.

But there was just one problem, there was no way for her to open it without being caught on camera, and someone was guiding them through all of this too, as if they knew exactly what to do to avoid being caught so red-handed. I figured it out before they could make the attempt, literally the day before or two days before the actual event took place. Ran over to my neighbors house, and told him, and told him to find a way into the safe. It took a while, and I gave him some space to make some things happen, he claimed that the key I was given was literally the only copy and written on it was "do no duplicate." So I believed him, but all of a sudden, one of the two prior days he somehow was in possession of the key, he said it was a copy, but I knew without saying anything, he was lying, and that's how I pieced it together. I went back and watched the video again, I put the key down, my mom stole it and left the house with my dad, as my neighbor was gone for the same amount of time at the same time, and all of a sudden after a bit of time it wound up in the hands of my neighbor within 30 minutes afterwards. As I emptied it and put everything that was in it, inside my back pack. As I was doing this, was the last time I spoke to that neighbor whom I trusted, thought was my friend, but as life teaches us....

Anyhow, the day of, as I mentioned earlier, I was sitting on this broken leather couch that nobody liked to sit on because not just being broken and would break your back should you choose to sleep on it, gave anyone who laid on it disgusting rashes that came at a time when my family members were spitting on my bath sponges (that same summer of 2012,) with cold sores on their lips, trying to literally give me herpes and laughing about it out loud in front of guests outside by their pool, in front of non-family members galore who just stood by and watched, ones who later pretended to not remember because they had to work at my dads restaurant as waitresses and didn't want recognizing what they did being wrong to jeopardize them losing a job. So on top of encouraging words of suicide, and not caring about any type of cancer, the disregard for human life in these moments is so over the top I still wonder how karma hasn't come around full circle on this individual along with all of those who stood by and did nothing but watch. Sitting on this awful couch, it was almost like they knew, I was trying to leave before they could really maximize their damage, like they knew I wasn't going to go silently, that I was going to tell everyone I possibly could what evil was lying within those walls.
The day it happened, my mom came bursting in through the front door, apparently thought she could approach my next door neighbor friend about my younger brother stealing her pot, as if he and or even I was supposed to know or do anything about it. According to my neighbor, she was so hysterical, that she was apparently incoherent, and he just said to her face, "I don't care, I don't like you, please don't talk to me anymore, it's not my problem." I kinda laugh as I write that, because god damn did someone need to tell that 60 year old child that, and it totally took the wind right out of her. So what does she do? She comes storming through the front door, (on video mind you readers) and starts to blast at me, as if I'm supposed to magically pull a solution out of my rear for her, all I did was sit silently on the computer looking down, small near-silent chuckles because really, what was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say? This is the second time this happened and the first one caused me to be starved for 5 days right out of the hospital after starting chemotherapy, so sitting there, I could't have cared less for her meaningless loss.... and that's what I believe to be the moment she just inside broke, and let her irrational side take over and saw nothing but red. So the physical abuse and verbal abuse ensued... yet again. I remember she pulled a knife, and I just sat there scared out of my skull thinking, "am I really gonna have to get stabbed on camera for anyone to actually do anything to help me?" I begin to get ready to call the cops, the last thing I want.

She continues with her constant threats and further berates me as if I did all of this to her, and of course, like the little girl she is, calls my dad, as if he's going to help. Some third world foreigner who raised a bunch of kids in the back of cornfield and beat us non-stop because he knew no better way to raise us. So as I continue to record by this point both on my lap top and on my gopro, I remember sitting there ignoring them as best I could, my camera on my macbook was sitting on my lap, and my dad walks over with a knife in one hand and crushes my hands in my lap top while the camera was running while he sticks a knife in my face claiming that he's gonna kill me, says it in his own way, without repeating what he said I'll just leave that part at that. Mind you all that this is the evidence I tried to show a judge later on, as I plopped the lap top down on his desk and said simply, "press the space bar." He refused.... but we're not there yet.

I finally broke, I called the cops, and what I thought was going to be even an ounce of relief, only turned out to be 2 or 3 more calls to the house because when the cops left and shut them up, they just waited for the cops to leave and started it up again, except each time turning the heat up worse than the time before.

Story Continues - Smaller Entry, it's January 20th at 11 PM, I wrote as much and as fast as I could, and will continue to update and clean up this particular entry throughout the week to make anything that may not be, more coherent, and easier to read. Where I leave off, is literally the day it happened. And what proceeds to happen beyond this point very well may be the worst of it all.
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Old 02-05-2020, 03:12 AM #12
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A quick update here, as to why I've been absent from this for a couple weeks now. I rolled my right ankle on January 3rd, and heard/felt torn ligaments on my way down to the ground. Before I went in to the ER I called them to make sure that their radiologist for an MRI was still there to confirm what I knew was wrong.
I couldn't have been more adamant or explicit in my demand/request for an MRI before showing up on the phone and when I arrived in a rental car, I almost fell right inside the ER doors, literally caught less than 3 feet from the floor. Their refusal to diagnose let alone treat led to what you read next.

Thing is, if I'm right about all this, they need to operate, and re-attach the ATFL ligament and CTFL tears.

ATFL was a complete tear requiring surgery and stem cell PRP shots, still reading as a complete tear over two weeks out on an MRI I had to fight for elsewhere without the ability to walk. With leukemia, nothing heals, as I struggle day by day just to even hobble around, it resonates even further and deeper into the mentions of needing the "RANGE, RELIABILITY, MOBILITY, DURABILITY & DEPENDABILITY" I had mentioned earlier, aspects of need that have been absent from my life for far too long now. My doctors refused to approve my MRI with whats known as a "Peer-To-Peer Verbal" authorization, which should've done the trick on the spot in a matter of seconds to approve the MRI through my medicaid insurance.

Though as I later learned 4 days after my MRI when I found out about the the complete tear, that what they were ultimately doing was trying to cover the rear ends of the ER hospital they all work at by trying to allow the ankle to heal enough so that none of this would show up on an MRI. Or at least that was their hope...., nothing short of pure idiocy that has now potentially cost me my right ankle permanently, but any form of skateboarding that I used to keep myself going for the last 22 years of my life.... because the ER doctor refused to MRI my ankle due to me having insurance that pays them pennies on the dollar and 6 months late (not really, just a saying I use to help articulate why they behave this way,) to avoid the hospital fronting it, they literally gave the excuse of one, it being too late at night, and two, that the MRI test was "expensive."
Thus, I was discharged on torn ligaments requiring surgery with an ankle I still to this day can't walk on.

It's clear medical malpractice and yes I've had to call many lawyers as I used to prosecute this type of work myself, so I'm very familiar with it, and not one single lawyer I spoke to cared, not one. It's true what they say about lawyers here in illinois. All 90,000+ lawyers here in this state are pure scumbags, especially the personal injury attorneys who clearly are in the business of cherry picking cases and ignoring ones like mine for the sake of profit and pay days leaving individuals like me to decay on the street. Might as well be just another pygmie in the jungles of africa.

I'm still bitter that these morons thought I wasn't going to figure out they were trying to cover themselves by thinking an ankle in need of surgical repair would heal itself enough to a point where my points of argument/medical concerns wouldn't show up on imaging, though unfortunately for them it did. Yet I'm still stuck trying to find a way from near Chicago, to Colorado, and the Mayo Clinic if not New York for my orthopedic doctors who are actually capable of bringing me back physically and able at a high level, or even bring me back to what I was before the injury which without the help I'm clearly going to need to ask for, is impossible. Now, I face a possible total loss of ankle function and what's more commonly known as "drop foot" syndrome. along with PSOAS syndrome along with ankle instability syndromes of many with inner-deteriorating ankle cartilage. This is why you all haven't heard from me in a week or so. Of course I intend to keep this up starting this week, and fill in as much as possible if not come close to finishing the novel so to speak that aims to chronicle everything I've been through from the start up to this point where I'm at now, the next chapter in the entries are so pivotal and important for you all to read, that I can't afford not to tell this particular part of my story, because truth be told it was the single most dangerous stretch of time that came closest to killing me thus far. I'll be back tomorrow night to try and finish.

Hope you guys are still with me.
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Old 02-05-2020, 12:54 PM #13
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To be honest, I'm not even sure anyone will read all that.
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Old 02-07-2020, 04:35 PM #14
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Quote:
Originally Posted by pableaux View Post
To be honest, I'm not even sure anyone will read all that.
I'm afraid you're right, but that gave me an idea literally last night as I'm about to update it now, is at least get it written, and then make a video where I essentially just read it to everyone so they don't have to be so burdened with such a lengthy read. So I"m going to essentially provide an "audio book" version of this, because I am going to have to start a crowdfunding campaign with the help of this community and one other toyota online community to purchase two specific vehicles that can get me to and from Texas, Colorado, New York for both my cancer treatment, and orthopedic surgeries and stem cell treatments there. What do you think? Put out an audible version of this so nobody just skips over it and they can actually see the person themselves finally and hear the severity in my voice as I read it? I personally am coming around to the thought of that thinking it's a better approach. I just had a really good talk with some folks at apple who are willing to be a part of this, and potentially send me a computer that's capable of doing what I need to do such as upload all the videos I've mentioned already and more. I just want the story told, that's step one and in the eyes of the community, the first step is solving a problem like the one I'm facing, is recognizing there is one and the only way to do that, is get them interested in actually caring enough to do so by providing an audible version of this.

I'm going to make a poll soon about exactly that, such as would you all prefer the video version I'm going to upload of me telling the story, instead of making them trying to read it all and equally daunting is me having to write it all. Do you and others think that this would be a better method of getting my story told in hopes to lead to a crowdfunding page to help a man get two vehicles needed to travel enough for healthcare that eventually to these states from the suburbs of chicago. I need to move to one of these states permanently soon too this year at the end of September.

continuation of story

The 2nd and 3rd time the cops were called back were filled the intermittent violence that I'd mentioned earlier, but it's really not until now as I write about it, that I realize that what was happening was a constant re-upping of the agitation they thought was eventually going to lead to me finally breaking and standing up for myself in a way that they could use against me with a reaction that was more ideal than what they had actually gotten out of me, which was nothing at all. It was ridiculously hard, to sit there while typing on a laptop to have someone walk right up to you with a knife in their hand then ultimately your face blatantly out loud threatening to kill you, and telling you that they're going to stab you as your eyes stare at the knife while your fingers just typed away on auto pilot. Only to then have them be offended by that, I laugh right this very second, a small chuckle in retrospect because as I write this, I realize that someone had put a knife in my face literally, and then smashed my macbook pro closed on my hands to take my attention off it just to maintain their threat against me.... and I had no choice but the just sit there and take it. Sad that I have to bring that back for a moment. Anyway, and maintain that "poker face" so to speak of total control and calm, which I can assure you as calm as I seemed at the time, underneath it all I was one flip of the switch away from giving every bit of hell they'd sent my way over the years right back to them. Though as I mentioned, this is exactly what they wanted, and they knew I knew it, I still remember my dad sitting on the stairs in front of the front door of his house he's now losing, screaming cuss words I won't write here, with cops standing off to his right, right in front of me, angry that I was in a position to at the drop of a hat, ruin his whole life. The cops didn't care at all, that's when you'd normally think this story would finally start to introduce some relief, but as I mentioned before, things only begin to truly heat up right now. One of the times (recorded on video mind you) I had the cops come back, or maybe it was the first time they came, they gave me some stupid sheet of a domestic violence victims rights sheet, and expected me to know exactly what it said, sign it, read it and fully understand it in less than 20 seconds if that, so they could just be on their way like they had a date at the donut shop or something. Literally on video, you can see them with the most smug and obtuse look on their face, and you can hear it in not only their voices, but the choice words they were using that signaled to me, that well.... cops still to this day = useless when you need them, and up your rear when you don't. So flash forward to the 3rd and final time I called them back, one of the cops finally caught on, but told me straight up that there wasn't anything they could do at that particular time (the 3rd time) because my family members by then had removed all drugs and paraphernalia from the house to avoid me throwing them under the bus which is what I should've done when my dad was sitting there on those steps afraid of exactly that. He's lucky I had any bit of a heart for him at that time not having my nephews sent to foster care because of that. At any rate, this cop proceeds to tell me, that I should just leave on my own accord, and that the cops will take me to a hotel, pay for it, and then come morning they would drive me to the courthouse and help me fill out a protection order. This everyone, is the moment everything went straight to hell. I can't believe I believed this ass, in his eyes, he saw a kid with evidence galore that proves his story, and later the judge also, but I'll get to that in a minute, and that I would just wind up another docket number in their court calls for them to have a job to wake up to in the morning for, and eventually, I'd be alright, because I wasn't the guilty party in this particular altercation if you will. Wow was I an idiot for believing this guy actually meant what he said that convinced me to go along with this dumb idea. So me agreeing, I grabbed what little of my stuff I could fit in my back pack, my external hard drives, my lap top, my chemo medication, wallet, chargers, just some very bare essential basics. Maybe a sweatshirt, I don't even remember really, but what worried me most, and what I told the police was I was afraid of them ransacking all my possessions and belongings, growing up with nothing I'm sure I already mentioned before everything I have I bled for, and the tiniest of possession to me may be meager to you, but meant the world to me. So I tell the police as I take photos of everything of mine, and left my security camera running, it had about 20 hours of run time left on it and figured I'd be back before it was out of space on the SD card to grab my stuff and just get out of there once and for all or god only knows what beyond that day. Anyhow, a game of chicken ensues as I get escorted to the courthouse the following day, worried sick that my loser brother is stealing all my stuff, looting and destroying it, later did I realize, I was right. He was, and he wasn't the only one. I was texting back and forth on the phone with my parents basically telling them I didn't want to have to do this, but I'm going through with it because simply put, I can't take it anymore. They wouldn't relent either. My dad being the hot head he is, couldn't control his temper, and every time anyone around any of us thought any resolution was anywhere near in sight, his outbursts would destroy everything instantly. I was not going to take back what I had said to police about them, and I was not going to allow myself to be treated like that ever again, and for some odd reason, that offended my so-called dad who kept blowing up at the sound of that very reality. He didn't like hearing of the possibility of me having to live in the same house as him without him being able to treat me like literal property.

So, the judge on the 3rd floor of this courthouse finally is ready to see me and hear my side of the protection order to basically get rid of both my parents, and I had everything with me, all video evidence, hell everything. I had my macbook ready on his desk for him to look at, literally inches from his fingers as he flat out looks me dead in the eye and says he will not look at anything whatsoever, so as I told him the story further, he interrupted me at the part about my parents having pot. He asks, "who sold your parents the pot." I couldn't help but think to myself, after everything that transpired, this was all this guy was really interested in? Who cares who sold my parents the pot, really!? Really.... I mean, I could guess and assume it was my neighbor at that time, but there was no way for me to know because I hadn't spoken to him by this point in a few weeks, and I wasn't going to throw him under the bus for the very individuals that had literally tried to assault me on more occasions than I can remember. Literally my dad tried to drown me in front of a bunch of my younger brothers friends at a birthday party and I'd completely forgotten about it until an old friend years ago reminded me by telling someone else as I stood next to him. Staying on track though, this judge just staring me in the eyes, at that very moment, flipped the protection order on me, and in that very instant, a very injured and ill cancer patient with no money, no credit, no car, nothing, in sandals, with a back pack and hardly even a cell phone, was stranded, homeless, from less than zero at a super 8 motel parking lot in woodstock illinois. Lucky for me, I was able to think quickly, and was frightened to death about my stuff being looted. So I googled on this god awful phone I had which was being monitored by my parents, and I found a u-haul place within walking distance. Magically begged for just over $45 to get the rental, so I could move all my stuff out of that house the next day. At least for 24 hours, I could drive, had a safe place in the back of the truck to sleep, and think, or so I thought. Within hours, it was so humid and I couldn't lay down at all, I found myself in the ER, starvation, exposure, physical fatigue, overall fatigue, without chemo. I told my ER nurses what happened, and then an ER doctor came in and after asking me if I "hated the government" 3 separate times, as if I was supposed to even know what the hell that means/what she's talking about, in my head I'm thinking, "lady have you ever heard of edward snowden?" Of course I didn't say that out loud, though forgive me, this was after she had asked me if it was alright if she tried calling my parents, the enemies, at nearly 4 in the morning, like that's a good idea in any way shape or form ever? To this day, I can't help but look back on the stupidity of this lady who said that, and did what she did in trying to talk to my parents which just resulted in her walking off, and literally allowing herself to be told lies about me by my parents who were petrified about me ratting them out about the drug use of themselves and my siblings. I later learned that they told the ER doctor that I had threatened to blow the house up.... I wan't to put a question mark here, but in writing that just doesn't visually translate. What moron believes this crap and even worse, did this ER doctor really willingly believe them or just go along with their psychotic story just to get another bed free? In an ER/hospital so renown for getting sued it's been bought out 3 separate times since this all happened. Anyhow, there were other lies that were told/said to this particular doctor that I'm still unaware of to this day that eventually led me to a 72 hour psyche hold for suicide watch.... where in the world did this come from? Yeah, so now I'm strapped to this bed thinking, yo my stuff is getting stolen right now and I don't have much time left with this u-haul, what the hell is going on? I later learned through my youngest sister sibling who confessed to all this in front of one of my oldest friends that my parents were really just doing all this as cannon-fodder if you will, to slow me down so they could protect themselves should I finally hit my limit and rat them out in regards to all the things I know about them. They couldn't have gotten any more lucky that all I cared about was my stuff, which left me oblivious to all this insanity that was starting to forcefully populate my life in an overwhelming fashion. So my little sister came to the hospital to tell me what their game plan was, and how to get out of it, but it was too late, I was sitting in that 72 hour hold which was completely unfounded with no proof of any suicidal possibility whatsoever talking to a cop/hospital security knob who claimed that he was there to watch me in case I tried to off myself. I laughed at him, I asked him why I was being restrained, he claimed it was so I didn't hurt myself, which later I learned of course, was a lie. I told him immediately after, that if that was true, "why can I spot like 10 different things in the room right now that anyone who, if they really wanted to, could kill themselves with very easily?" Next thing I know I'm being carted off to the loony bin.... even the people driving me there were afraid of getting sued and even were speechless that this is how I wound up in their ambulance transport, 19 hours after my arrival, I could hear staff at this nuthouse conversing among themselves about releasing me because they knew I shouldn't have ever been brought there. 19 damn hours after being dropped off at the nuthouse even they were going to release me because of how wrong the situation was and they could see it. Later, my old friend and my little sister had done enough to force the place to release me 5 days later. I almost called an attorney but thankfully, one of my old friends whom I've known for over 20 years, whom my sister told the truth to, called and demanded they released me. I don't know what he said but somehow it worked. The hospital had to give me a taxi voucher to a house about 20 minutes away that I later learned my friend used to get me released, and from that point forward, I walked around the hospital all day and all night, wondering if I was going to collapse, I was so starved, I was so tired, it was wet, the mosquito's were also hungry, and all I remember before someone found me on the floor of an adoration chapel unconscious, which again is a story of its own, I resorted to door knocking after accidentally running into a local church group who tried to help me with food, but really all it did was give me too much to carry and also stuff I couldn't eat either. So it was after meeting these people I gave up, and began the door knock mission. It was brutal to accept it mentally, the humiliating, embarrassing task I was about to embark on, but each rejection at a time, I became more numb to it, but unfortunately more exhausted too. I remember the last house I took a flyer on, opened the front door, dude looked frightened as hell, he pointed down the road and said that there was an adoration chapel that's open 24 hours a day, and that I could get out of the rain and the night and at least in that building to use as shelter, it was an off-shoot building in a large parking lot of a much larger main church building.

I'll be back tonight to finish writing more, in preparation for narrating this story so it's easier for everyone to read on video. I hope you're all with me on this, because I learned something last night and today that indeed this is going to have to turn into a crowdfunding effort to save my life, I can't go on like this anymore, it's a certainty now. Until then my fellow 4runner lovers.
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Old 03-07-2020, 03:41 AM #15
antithesis antithesis is offline
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Join Date: Jul 2017
Location: around chicago
Posts: 26
antithesis is on a distinguished road
antithesis antithesis is offline
Junior Member
 
Join Date: Jul 2017
Location: around chicago
Posts: 26
antithesis is on a distinguished road
Quick Update/Entry - I've been overwhelmed with not being able to get medical treatment for my ankle that's needed surgery for 3 months now, finding attorneys to pursue a medical malpractice case which there are none, they're all sallies. Burping up blood now occasionally, don't know why so every time I got hospitalized since my last entry not even burping up blood did anyone at these ER's care one damn bit about. Anyway.... here's tonights entry.

That night, was the first night I'd crept inside that adoration chapel, and there were benches on each side, 3 to my right, 3 to my left. I walked around backside of the left, nobody was around, so I quickly found a spot on the ground to hide behind the benches so I could at least get enough shut-eye until the morning before someone would tell me to leave or who knows what. What happened next when I woke up the next morning was someone waking me up and asking me all the typical questions out of the assumption of me being homeless. Also happened to be a lady in there who had a daughter who was very young with hodgkins lymphoma, she was an absolute sweetheart, her name was grace, I'll never forget it.... and her cancer, well that's a bad one to have. So they ask, why are you here, where are you from, how can I help, if at all, what do you need, all the typical type stuff. Then they brought me to some older couple who then brought me into their main building and frankly I was kinda scared because they brought me through such a large maze of corridors I was starting to worry what was going to happen to me, felt like walking through the overlook hotel. One of the two people put me up in a motel for 2 or 3 days, I can't remember, they do this in partnerships with hotels that allow the individuals who do this to get financially reimbursed for putting someone up in a room like that. I needed it badly, all the while my two faced little sister was constantly trying to find me for reasons I'll get to later. Moving on here, I remember I was so hungry, but had no money, and no food, I had a bag of quinoa and walked about a quarter mile down the road to a gas station to get a dollar gallon of water. I had nothing to cook it in, so I looked in my bag, found some stern-o's and a coffee pot from the hotel room. This is embarrassing, but I had to try and prop up the coffee pot to light the stern-o's underneath to try and cook the quinoa. Not only did it fail but it failed because the glass of the coffee pot broke, and cut my right thumb so badly that it definitely needed stitches, but I was stuck within walking distance from the hospital that shipped me off to the loony bin to save money on avoiding tending to a medicaid patient, the ones who sent me to the loony bin that let me go to nearly upon arrival to avoid getting in legal trouble because an ER nurse was recognized for profiling someone they had no interest in actually learning the truth about. Anyhow, I should've gone to an ER to get stitches in my right thumb, still have a gnarly scar to this day, I was pretty worried it to be totally honest. I knew that once that time was up in the hotel, that I was going to be stuck back on the streets, without any shoes to wear, and one less thumb to use that also put me at greater risk of infection and worse due to the leukemia and chemotherapy every day. As that hour glass drained, I did what I could, I washed the clothes I had on, I washed the spare clothes I had in my bag, literally nothing but shorts, boxers, a t-shirt and a ripped up hooded sweatshirt. Put it all back in my bag, and went back to the chapel to sleep. I'll never forget it, I think it was my 2nd or 3rd night there, one particular individual tried getting snippy with me, he said to me with his shoes off fidgeting with his bare feet and toes, "excuse me, but this isn't a place to sleep," so I responded, "if you think I'm trying to use and take advantage of this building or anything of that nature, you're wrong." I told him if he didn't like it, or if he had a problem with it in any way, to go talk to the people I gave to him by name (the ones who'd helped me and were a little higher up in the echelons of the church.) He quickly buried his nose back into his bible with nasty look on his face. There's a part coming up here pretty soon that's a little fuzzy to me still, was thinking about it for the past two days trying to remember how I got there, and that's what I'm about to start talking about now.
I think either my sister, who only was paying attention to me to try and seek drugs, prescription drugs from me, drove me to a friend of a friends house, or the brothers of this particular friends apartment. The old friend of mine who helped me get out of that nuthouse my parents fibbed me into while I was asleep in the ER that one night. He somehow convinced his younger brother to let me use his old car that used to be his before he gave it to his younger brother. Neither of them had a license, so I forgot if I asked or if it was offered, but nonetheless I took them up on it in nothing flat. This is the part I kinda don't remember, I just don't remember getting to my friends little brothers apartment where the car was parked, I can't remember if my sister drove me and my old friend there, or if someone from the local church I was sleeping at somehow got me a ride there. Right around this time, I was getting really really worried about all my possessions and belongings stuck at my parents house, wondering what was happening to it all. Whether or not it was being stolen or looted or destroyed, which it was I just didn't know it yet. So the arrangement was made, and even though I don't speak to this particular friend anymore, I'm still extremely grateful for what he did at that time, which was make his little brother let me borrow the car until I could figure something out. So once I arrived at the apartment, his younger brother and I arranged for the car insurance to have both names on it so I could drive it and god forbid anything happened, he wouldn't be held responsible. So there we were, a 1994 mercury tracer in pink salmon color. Still makes me laugh to this day when I think back on it. So, this part gets pretty interesting, I picked up my older friend, who had me crash at a friends house with him for roughly 5 weeks while I had to battle it out in court to clear my name due to that judge who flipped a protection order around on me that was originally filed to protect me from my abusive parents and siblings. It consumed literally everything, every penny I somehow made, and all my time. The house I was crashing at wasn't exactly friendly either, they were drug addicts, and before any of you start judging, hey.... when things are that bad, you'll take whatever you can get. I was literally the only person in the house that not only didn't do drugs let along their drug of choice being cocaine (all the other residents of that house) but I was also the only one that didn't smoke, drink or do any actual drugs of any kind, not like I could afford it anyway in my current state at the time. So it was really tough, these people, still being grateful for them letting me at least stay there, were up all night, drinking and doing you know what else, while I was trying to sleep, every night. Only upside was when I got up, nobody else was awake, they were all usually an hour or two into their slumber. So it always allowed for me to get out the door relatively quickly to meet with attorneys to help me with the OP case against my parents that I eventually won. I made all the evidence public to local news stations, and they then contacted the courts, the judge got punished and sent down to bond court on saturdays as his punishment, and the case that was flipped against me was disposed. My parents didn't want news stations pointing cameras at them while a judge would force them to answer to the horrible things they'd been doing to me that I had recorded on video. I remember during this time, as June bled into July, I was always up late at night making evidence exhibits and making documents to brief my psychologist who had been video documenting my suffering for about 5 years by this time once a week. He agreed to testify for free, and showed up to each of my court dates to testify to the truth of my story not just because he believed me, but he was willing to actually watch the camera footage that I brought him every week to prove what I was saying, because otherwise I'd just always feel like I was venting to someone who secretly thought I was making it all up. So with that said, it was nice to know that someone else.... actually knew for a fact too due to having actually watched the video footage.
Though, one minor problem was secretly brewing at the flop house I had to use as a crash pad/couch surf base, and I'm going to get into that now, but before I do, it's important to note that right during this time, I was only contemplating reaching out to my ex. I was still in love with her, and things weren't looking good. Before I arrived at this house I was couch surfing at, I remember calling this friend who vouched for me to get me in, crying, because I did what's called a "stand by" where police come with you to a residence to keep the peace so to speak while you gather your stuff, and upon my first visit, I had noticed that everything, every single trinket, work related object, even my college artwork, my game artwork, my clothes, were all either stolen or destroyed. Things that took my nearly a decade to accumulate. To say I was crushed doesn't even come close. I remember now it was that night my friend told me to drive over and stay at that house. Anyhow, the house I was at, was owned by the residents parents, well I think owned by one of the residents by name legally, but paid for by their parents. And they after one point, stole my hard drives with all my evidence, and footage on it, my gopro camera, my SD cards, among many other things because one particular resident cocaine addict of this house was friends with a waitress that worked at my dads restaurant. They were secretly communicating behind my back. This ultimately led to the mom of this cocaine addict coming to that house and before she could even say a word to me, my friends at that house warned me, to just pack your stuff and dip before they try to force you out. I think they were under the impression that I was going to rat them out for being cocaine addicts and didn't want it getting out, so they stole my security cameras, and hard drives which I luckily backed up literally the night before everything was stolen to one single large capacity hard drive I had locked up in a safe. So the evidence was still preserved unknown to them. So I trusted my friends word, and packed up as much as I could in this tiny car, I had absolutely NO space in the car to sleep in it due to how jam packed it was with stuff. For 9 days straight I used that car to go to the local train stations to head down town into chicago to do dishes at a pizza place called "beggars pizza" of all places, how fitting right? So back at the adoration chapel I was, only this time, I finally met more people who were more kind to me, and had realized at this point that I wasn't the typical homeless type derelict addict or nut job. They saw a young man with a car, working, and would park at night in their parking lot and use their chapel to sleep because I was so balled up at one point that the herniated discs in my spine were hitting my spinal cord so badly as I wrote a letter which again, I'm about to elaborate on, and tried to sleep in but just wasn't really physically possible. As I wrote a letter to my ex int his car my spine was curled so badly clear fluid would drain from my nose, and my ears. So after a while, the time on borrowing this car was running out, and the folks at this church were trying to help me find a donation car so I could keep working at least. Grace and her mom were the ones who were heading up the search.
Now earlier, I mentioned myself writing a letter inside that car at night before I'd go into the chapel to sleep, it was a letter saying goodbye to my ex, because to all of you reading, at that time, I was truly convinced that I wasn't going to last much longer, so I was saying my goodbyes to everyone I could think of, those who I cared about, and to those who were always nice to me, the ones who were never mean to me for any reason. I messaged my ex on facebook, with no response, and I sent a message to her younger brother to relay the message to maintain some sort of respect for her privacy hoping it would go further in showing that I was serious and really needing to get through to her. Weeks went by with no response at all. So I continued to hand write my letter saying goodbye to her, before I later was going to attempt to type it. More days came and went, and one day.... a lady woke me up, and within the first 120 seconds, my phone chimed off, she had messaged me, it felt like someone had opened me up and took my dead battery and replaced it with a new one, I flew to the local library like the wind, and sent her the unfinished draft I had written to her over an email I think, some type of online message, I'm sure it was an email. From there, we were back on, first and second week of July.

I'm going to try and make a video documentary narrating all of this, figure that might be easier for you all to absorb and better understand. Crowdfunding is going to have to happen without a doubt, my health conditions have deteriorated to a point where I've no other choice. Sad, we have to start crowdfunding pages in this country to stay alive these days. Hope you're all still with me.
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