My Seal - Praying to the Machine Part Duo
So I went to the machine and I prayed to it as I've done every couple of years since I was 5. Everything has been structured around it. I am not a mortal man, I am dead and only these brief pardons can allow me to live. "By the grace of the machine I go"
This time it has been 10 years and I've shoved a lot of shit through my body, gallons of this, some pounds of that stuff, a few ounces of something-something, and probably just a little what-cha-call-it. I am sure I have prematurely aged my body. Do I regret it? Some of it. Nah not a lot of it. Regret is a nasty beast. The what-ifs can cripple. Fear is not the mind killer, paying attention to fear is the mind killer
Ah, Prayer the last resort of the scoundrel.
So I went in and I warned the woman, as a professional courtesy, that I have a large tattoo. She hooked me up to the echocardiograph and I watched my inners move. And after the half-hour examine (of which I took pictures) the only thing the woman could say is 'Wow.' Not only am I not degrading but it looks like I am improving - an unheard of proposition. As they laid it out I can follow their rules and live or deviate and die. Nothing gets better, biological failure is going to happen and the choice is not pretty. Now the situation is different : should I want to throw caution to the wind I could. Of course I've already proved that to myself.
The only other thing I wanted to note here is that at the end the doctor said something interesting. She said - and I have a short video to prove it - 'I think the tattoo healed you.' Me too.
I spent a long time thinking about it, before and after I obtained 'my seal'. At times I felt scarred for life. But I knew 'she' was there to protect me and to alter my mind set. And I thank 'her' for 'her' protection and 'her' healing.
"Me and my brother were talking to each other
'Bout what makes a man a man
Was it brain or brawn, or the month you were born
We just couldn't understand
Welcome to my life, tattoo
I'm a man now, thanks to you
I expect I'll regret you
But the skin graft man won't get you
You'l be there when I die
Tattoo" - The Who, Tattoo
This time it has been 10 years and I've shoved a lot of shit through my body, gallons of this, some pounds of that stuff, a few ounces of something-something, and probably just a little what-cha-call-it. I am sure I have prematurely aged my body. Do I regret it? Some of it. Nah not a lot of it. Regret is a nasty beast. The what-ifs can cripple. Fear is not the mind killer, paying attention to fear is the mind killer
Ah, Prayer the last resort of the scoundrel.
So I went in and I warned the woman, as a professional courtesy, that I have a large tattoo. She hooked me up to the echocardiograph and I watched my inners move. And after the half-hour examine (of which I took pictures) the only thing the woman could say is 'Wow.' Not only am I not degrading but it looks like I am improving - an unheard of proposition. As they laid it out I can follow their rules and live or deviate and die. Nothing gets better, biological failure is going to happen and the choice is not pretty. Now the situation is different : should I want to throw caution to the wind I could. Of course I've already proved that to myself.
The only other thing I wanted to note here is that at the end the doctor said something interesting. She said - and I have a short video to prove it - 'I think the tattoo healed you.' Me too.
I spent a long time thinking about it, before and after I obtained 'my seal'. At times I felt scarred for life. But I knew 'she' was there to protect me and to alter my mind set. And I thank 'her' for 'her' protection and 'her' healing.
"Me and my brother were talking to each other
'Bout what makes a man a man
Was it brain or brawn, or the month you were born
We just couldn't understand
Welcome to my life, tattoo
I'm a man now, thanks to you
I expect I'll regret you
But the skin graft man won't get you
You'l be there when I die
Tattoo" - The Who, Tattoo