Attacking Fear.


Peace family. Yes, I know, long time no hear from. And I apologize for that. I've been struggling with finding words for the first quarter of 2020, so here I am, in mid-April, giving this vulnerability and transparency another shot. I truly hope that this finds you staying healthy, staying safe, staying obedient, staying considerate, staying empathetic, and staying prayerful.

Like all of us, I’ve been dealing with thoughts of mortality, as this is our new reality for an unforeseen time. I’m so saddened about all of the loss that we’ve been seeing, and infuriated by the lackadaisical attitude of so many, including some very close to me. This afternoon I’d just gotten off of the phone with my 3rd specialist regarding a pre-existing condition that I’m considering surgery for, and as soon as I hung up, the news reported that Mrs. Jacqueline Towns, mother of NBA star Karl-Anthony Towns succumbed to her month long fight with the COVID-19 virus. (May she Rest In Peace.)

Sigh. And so many more have been called home that did not have to. I don’t recall in my lifetime or maybe in documented history that the entire human population of the planet fighting the same enemy.

Forgive me if I jump around a bit, but this gumbo of emotions I’ve been dealing with are all coming to the surface. And as you all know, it’s been a long while since I last shared with you. To be honest, I held a lot in because I couldn’t find the words. I’m still not sure if I can, but I’ll try. I’ve mentioned in an earlier blog entry my fight to break the hereditary curse of high blood pressure. Well there may be a possible breakthrough, rendering the ”it’s just hereditary“ excuse to be false. And I KNOW I’ve mentioned in an earlier entry the very strained relationship with my father. Well his lineage is where I’ve supposedly inherited the family plague, so I struggled with the possibility of breaking years of silence between us, and reaching out to share the news, I mean, it’s truly life or death. And our feud doesn’t mean I wish suffering or death on anyone. So I gathered myself, took a day or two to swallow my pride, and reached out to him via text.

Here’s how that conversation went:

Well, fuck.

And note the time difference between the sent and reply.


Ok, a couple possibilities here:

  1. He doesn’t even have my phone number saved.

  2. He changed his number and didn’t share the new one.


This is my father. The man whose word I valued so much that I literally put my dreams in storage. The man I defended consistently even in the midst of his mistreatment. Every time we fell out over the years, I was the one to reach out to mend. I know a lot of you who read these blog entries would like for me to add context to the complexity of this relationship I have with this man, and in my heart, I really want to. But to go back to those places mentally is very taxing, and emotionally is very very challenging. It feels like revisiting trauma, so I'm honestly reluctant to go there. I was telling a friend that there are so many stories I completely forgot about until something sparks a memory and then it's crystal clear to me again.

So, this is what he thinks of me. I spent time kicking myself for even reaching out. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it’s safe to say I’m finally done. I once feared that things would come to an unfortunate end without me having done all that I can, or speaking up to try and salvage this damaged situation. That part of my life has since been mourned and eulogized. At least until some other shit happens. Like the old folks say, "Just keep on living".

Let me dive into this surgery I mentioned earlier real quick.

Soooooooo......basically there is a growth on a gland near my kidney that regulates the hormone that controls blood pressure. This growth is causing said gland to overwork, therefore causing my pressure to wild the fuck out. The surgery is to remove said growth and afterwards, everything will be a-ok.

In a perfect world.

Because said surgery will also effect another gland that regulates adrenaline. So if said gland decides to randomly spike my adrenaline during surgery, then I could die. Instantly. So there are a plethora of tests I have to take before we can even begin this process. I've had so much blood drawn that I feel like I'm on a vampire blood farm.

So yeah. I’m scared. Of COVID-19, of this possible surgery (which is going to require me to go through mad hoops just to get clearance for), of the uncertainty of the future. I, like we all, are truly just adjusting one day at a time. Figuring it out as we go. And it’s uncomfortable. But I will not let my goals and desire to lead with love fall by the wayside. This year is proof that God truly laughs at our plans, so now that we have gotten past the point of thinking we are in control, it’s time to find peace in being stretched in different ways to become more than what we’d imagined. I told y’all early in December 2019 how nerved up I was at the uncertainty of the future. But I'm thankful for the ability to wake up every morning and face fear with a relatively healthy body, a plentiful spirit, and a loving disposition. I trust that you will do the same......daily.


I'll see y'all on the other side of this.

Peace & Love,

MGB



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