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Don’t Fuck With Those Frontals, I’m Begging Ya!

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https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2991430/

There are a lot of people who make bad decisions, and often when there’s less than no time to think about that probable consequences will be.

Hello, prefrontal cortex, you snot-slurped asshole.

Many people who live with traumatic brain injury face this challenge every day in the hope that they don’t get into an argument with an idiot, only to be arrested for manslaughter, because he got tired of dealing with someone’s bullshit and pushed the other guy into an oncoming city bus-which only make things worse.

I mean, nobody really wants to do that, but there are some people who:

a) ask for it

b) don’t believe you’ll do it

The next thing one realises, the one who was pissed can’t believe what he or she just did!  However, the person that once was was warned about the consequences.  What seems to spectators as a deliberate act truly wasn’t, because the person who pushed you was on the receiving end of an equal and opposite reaction-and now, traffic is a nightmare because the coroner has to scrape your remains as best they can off the street.

Study the case of Phineas Gage, a railroad foreman who experienced a blast which sent a tamping iron-43 inches long, 1 1/4 inches in diameter, and weighing 13 1/4 pounds through his left cheek, slashed his brain, and rocketed skyward, landing several feet behind him, according to smithsonian.com.

He was never the same after this, as his friends said that he was “no longer Gage,” as Dr. John Harlow accounted.

Gage lost his balance between his common sense and his self-control, or as Paul the Apostle wrote in Romans 7:15-20: “I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do I do I do not do, but what I hate I do.  And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good.  As it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me.  For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.  For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.  For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil the evil I do not want to do-this I keep on doing.  Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.”


Here’s the funny part: those who kicked me out of the church last year are Republicans who espouse the doctrine of personal responsibility.  However, where was Paul’s sense of personal responsibility?


As George Carlin said: “Someone’s losing fucking ground.”

It might be best for Americans to stop judging people who have the tendency to hit someone in the mouth with a chair.  After all, no one starts life that way and there are people who know the particular person’s weakness and exploit it in the hope that such a person will arrested on a assault charge.

Have you ever heard of entrapment?  As Dirty Harry used to say: “A man has got to know his limitations.”

My advice is for instigators to not start anything to begin with, as someone’s fuse is shorter than another-and all because of traumatic brain injury.  If you’re going to a soldier a free pass, you have to do the same for someone else-even when you’re dealing with someone who wasn’t stupid enough to drive over a roadside bomb during a quagmire in which we had no business involving ourselves.

Don’t fuck with the frontals, I’m begging ya!

Savvy?

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How Bad Off Am I-Seriously?

 

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Living with traumatic brain injury is bad enough-and everyone here knows that I have it and how I got it during my infancy.

Not only do I have to wonder what the second seizure did to me in 2007, but I now have to worry whether or not I have chronic traumatic encephalopathy, or CTE.  While football and soccer players are known to have this condition, I have to check this out because I suffered numerous blows to the head when I worked at Walmart.

You see, the pallets broke-a lot.

If the information which I am currently reviewing from the Mayo Clinic is any indication, I think that I will take a pass on the autopsy, because that seems to be the only time to make said diagnosis.

I do not have cognitive problems at this time.  However, my hands do shake and it’s harder for me to control my temper.

I try to control my impulses.

I am aggressive toward objects more than I am people-unless they don’t listen.

I have never been able to plan or execute executive function, so that’s nothing new.

I don’t drink or smoke (Phineas Gage became an alcoholic).

I gave up on the thought of committing suicide-years ago..

I become quite irate, but won’t physically attack.  As for verbal attacks, that’s a different paradigm.  Just don’t fuck with me, okay?

I have always had some motor impairment because of the meningitis, but my hands shake more often, so I must investigate.

There is a possibility that I may come up with this later in life because of the pallets which hit me in the head.

Yeah, God loves my ass, alright-enough to fuck me over more than once.

The best source for information on this is https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/chronic-tramatic-encephalopathy/symptoms-causes/syc-20370921.

This puts Proverbs 22:24 in perspective, does it not?  This is the verse which tells the ignorant not to make friends with an angry man and to not hang around anyone who has a short fuse.

Again, this particular book was not written by a doctor with a psychology degree, but by an idiot who had no understanding of the human brain, nor how it worked.  The Bible was written by ignorant fools who judged people they didn’t take the time to understand.  Hence, there is no reason to pay any attention to it, as ignorance only worsens relationships between people and leads to painful misunderstandings.

I have no remorse.  I have done nothing wrong.  I guess this goes back to a little thing which happened at church not too long ago.  Then again, the person who interfered was once a cop-and we all know how bright they are-not very.

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What the Hell Happened to Me?! Who Cares? I Have Victories To Win

I rehabilitate myself at least three days a week.

I have a great physical trainer with whom I have much in common.  However, there is a peculiar issue with which currently confuses me.

After I acquired meningitis in 1971, my right side became more dominant (I began life ambidextrous).  Although I still ate with my left hand and despite the fact that I played kickball and soccer with my left leg, I batted right-handed and slugged people with my right fist while in the course of defending myself all through my elementary school years.  Remember that I had been bullied almost to death earlier in my life.  Fighting was the only way to keep bullies away from me.

Something is amiss, however, because my right leg is now more stable than my left.

While my balance was never anything to brag about, one of my biggest fears I was in my twenties was being having to perform a sobriety test in front of Los Angeles Sheriff’s deputies because I was never good at heel-toe.

While it has always been quite the adventure to stand on either leg, I now see that my current ability to do this has become much more difficult.

My physical trainer has me stand on one of those big plastic balls that a first grade teacher might improvise to represent Jupiter, but I have to fight for control-regardless of which leg I use.  The irony is that my right leg has now become stronger than my left.

This is a serious concern for me, because the question now arises:

WHAT DID THE 2007 SEIZURE DO TO MY BRAIN?

l knew that something was wrong from the moment I was in the emergency room in Burbank, California.  When the neurologists told me that they could clearly see the original brain damage, but could find no evidence of anything new, I screamed,  “BULLSHIT!  SOMETHING’S WRONG!  I FEEL DIFFERENT!”

The neurologists continued to insist that there was nothing new.  However, my behavior had changed-and not for the better, either.

My fuse became shorter, whereas I had it nearly under control before this.

I was  able to pull off what I call a Yosemite Sam, which is the ability to find a way out of an aggravating situation and defuse in a safe place.

However, I am unable to do so now.

I struggle with social skills again, and it’s almost as  bad as when I struggled with the same skills thirty years ago.  I experience more difficulty with verbal intent.

The biggest mystery to me, however, is why my left side has become stronger and exhibited more control than my right side, as this never was.

What damage did that second seizure infect upon me, and where, other than the frontal lobes-which were already damaged by the meningitis?

One thing which I have always had in my favor is that I refuse to accept what is.  There’s no point in living if you accept limitations.

You do what you can with what you have left.  Whatever you lack, you take for yourself and take the freeways out of town, as quality of life is more important than life itself.

While it’s harder for me to concentrate and while it’s more difficult for me to remain civil to the truly idiotic who choose to believe that I’m a drug addict, I did acquire my college degree-something that most people would never have thought I could ever do.

So, if you know someone like me, don’t count them out.  Not only do they possess hidden talents which can benefit the world, but the same people also a simmering rage if disenfranchised-and you don’t want your family to get that phone call, do you?

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Brain Damage

 

 

 

 

This is what brain damage sounds like, motherfucker!

I used to go to Guitar Center in Irvine, California a lot, just so I could play the Jackson and B.C. Rich axes.  Besides, I needed to stay awake so that I could go to sleep at a normal time on my nights off.

I fucking hated night shift, but it paid a dollar an hour more than days.  What’s more, I’m not really a customer-oriented person (as if you haven’t guessed), because I don’t put up with crap from people who don’t sign my paychecks.

Like I always say, “I’m a whore, not a slave.  So, fuck off.”

How customer-oriented am I?  Okay, you axed for it:

One time, over twenty years ago, a woman looked for a book which was out of stock.  When she looked over my shoulder as I searched the computer, she said: “The computer says you have ten.”

I immediately turned around and replied, “Ma’am, I’m an Atheist in here, and that means I don’t believe in the existence of anything that I don’t have my hands on.  So, until it’s in my hand, and I give it to you, we ain’t got shit.

You’re not wondering why I never made Employee of the Month, are you?   I mean, it’s pretty fucking obvious.

And you thought this is just a character that I portray in cyberspace.  No, no, no, no, no, no, no!  This is who I am in real life-partially because of the fact that my prefrontal cortex is fucked up (source: Neurosci Bull April 1, 2015, 31(2): 198–206. http://www.neurosci.cn) and partially due to the fact that I simply have no patience for conservatives and other intellectual inferiors who refuse to accept scientific facts.

Meningitis is an inflammation of the lining of the brain  (source: Meningitis. (2015). Nursing Standard (2014+), 30(3), 17. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.7748/ns.30.3.17.s20).  People who get hit with it suffer brain damage and often lose their sight, lose their hearing, and lose their limbs.

And God supposedly protected three men in a furnace which was heated seven times normal (Daniel 3;19).

As for my axes, I have a Jackson and a Fender acoustic in storage over in Irvine, California, but I had to buy two more guitars and another amplifier.

I have been able to work on my manual dexterity over the course of time, and I’m a hell of a lot better now than I was when I shot that little bit at Guitar Center in Irvine, California in 2011.

I don’t know why God allowed me to get meningitis-and He’d better have a damned good reason for it.  Exodus 4:11 is something that I don’t accept.  And if you have a child with a developmental disability, you shouldn’t either.

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