A LETTER TO UPDATE MY FRIENDS

Starting during the summertime, And continuing until today the number of people who I call friend has been growing exponentially. Christian bikers, 1% a motorcycle gang members, old shipmate from the Navy, and many wonderful people right here in the blogosphere have reached out to me to say hello. Additionally I have regained contact with people that I went to high school with 40 years ago. Mostly on Facebook. Most of the old friends to see me remark that the bad boy image does not surprise them. But within the closer and see the pictures of my wheelchair I get bombarded with questions about what's the matter? Or what happened?

I am not embarrassed to tell the story. But after explaining it 200 times in the last three months it gets a little tiring. So for all of you people that I call friend, here's the story…



Long story short;
1.    Chemical exposure in the Navy resulted in a rare form of leukemia.
2.    Chemotherapy complications
3.    Coma, renal shut down, 0 blood pressure, at least 2  strokes,
4.    One full year of total quadriplegia
5.    Infections (caused by chemo) that required removal of my lower intestine
6.    Infections (caused by 0 blood pressure) that required removal of left leg below the knee. And all the toes on the right foot.
7.    3 ½ years battling sepsis,

And now I’m writing to you about this portion of my life journey. I have to warn you, at this point, I don’t tolerate pity in any form from anyone. I have had an insatiable lust for life. And I put more living into the first 30 years of my life, than most people see in 80. During  21 years in the Navy, I visited every continent on the planet, save Antarctica. All the places I couldn’t get to on a ship, I visited via motorbike. I have always owned a motorcycle. I own 1 now. My first car was a motorcycle. And I believe that bikers know exactly how the birds feel in flight. I enjoy chasing the horizon, with no particular destination in mind. Whether on two wheels or skimming across the surface of the sea.

I have no bucket-list (a list of things I must do before I kick the bucket) because I did all the dos, and saw all the sees, and tasted all of the tastes I have ever wanted before the opportunity escaped me. And if I were to die today there would be no reason to feel sorry for me. I have lived so close to the edge my entire life. So close that I have faced my mortality many times. The first time at age 9. And another half dozen times before my 20th birthday. In the latter portion of my life I have found great strength in my faith in an all powerful creator God, who knows my name and listens when I pray. No one has been to the abyss as closely or as often as I have, and does it without meeting that same GOD.

And one of my goals is to be able to ride a motorcycle again. I'm currently involved in the VA physical therapy program where we are trying to strengthen my arms and legs again and get back into life. During the protracted battle for life under the care of the people at Kaiser Permanente, we gauged success on the fact that I was still alive. I have recently reached a new stage in life were simply being on this side of the sod is not considered living. While the people in the are cautiously optimistic about my ability to walk again, they are staying very close mouth on the subject of motorcycles, and the riding one. Something about why put all that effort into saving you just had to get killed on a motorcycle. To which I respond "look at me now, motorcycle had nothing to do with this."

One last note:
Another friend remarked that, "it seems rather unfair that all of this should happen to a good person like you!" To which I respond, I have very seldom been a very good person. And all of this would only be unfair if it had happened to someone whom God had not given the strength endure and survive it.

I am truly blessed to have so many caring people in my life. And if you're reading this now I consider you to be my friend and for your friendship I am truly thankful.

Respectfully,
Kurt