Is dad ok?

The hardest thing to hear is my children asking my wife, “is dad ok”? How do I explain. Where do I start. I could spit it like an Eminem sorta a way, “Hi kids, do you like Primus, do you wanna see me stick 9 inch nails through each one of my eye lids”? So it could go like this, "Hey kids, do you love freedom, you wanna see me stick Military Grade Vaccines through both of my biceps". My oldest Ashen would understand and question me further. Consiquence and cause he would say.

I hoped not to be defined by disabilities but at the end of the day I have no choice. I was able to shine at any employer since day 1. Always moved to the top. Unfortunatly lately I am limited to 8 hours a week. Even that is to much. Chronic pain fighting and cognitive disfunction are a full time job. Not to mention light sensitivity, rashes and fatigue as overtime.

So I wake every morning to see the inspiration from Andrea, support of Kelly and Mary, help from Jim and David, likes from Rita and Samantha, posts from WSJ, FDA, NIH and CDC, GWI/CFS, while listening to old webinars from scientist and counting on the our leaders. Searching for the answer so my kids don’t have to ask that question, “is dad ok”?

Our family bond is strong as we laugh at Wife Swap or Nanny 911 and cry at AFV's montages. Hockey defines our religion as we are touched by ghosts pasts. Example: Upon awaking from a coma in Oakwood Hospital a tv was brought in. The same thing was on every channel. It was a huge funeral. It was Maurice Richard. A great left when I woke. That September my son was born and named Mason and not Maurice as we planned earlier before his death and my illness. Mason's first birthday was on Sept 11th as we forgot to mention it to him because of the news. Hell, the lottery numbers were 666 at his birth as the city was under water a year prior.

Funnier things have happen. I am a real Forest Gump.