Holding on. Why is everything so heavy? part 1 and part 2

Part 1:

Holding on

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Don't really know where to start here, as per UZH!!!! I guess you all might need a bit of awkward, unorganized backstory vaguely describing my last few months. So here ya have it, folks!

     I was in Houston about a month ago for some tests, one being a blood biopsy. Details of what that means aren't that important. Google it if you must, but it's just a way to figure some shit out. More details for story's sake: I have had some tumor growth and spikes in my liver enzymes over the last 3 months or so despite having incredible results just before to the point where they actually weren't able to see any tumors! The most incredible results! Liver enzymes, by the way, are a way to see how hard the old gal is working and she's a working, team. Sheeeeee's a workin. God Bless her.

     Flew into Houston this last Sunday with the expectation of having an exploratory laparoscopy to check out my liver, assess the damage the cancer and chemo as done, and then see if the tumor was operable. I was going into this with the only expectation being that I'd acquire more knowledge about what's going on. I wasn't holding my breath about the surgery and I wasn't going to be let down if they said I was not a candidate for it. It was just more info for me, my family, and my doctors to assess and use for further treatment.

      The exploratory surgery went off without a hitch, recovered like Wolverine in typical fashion, but it turns out I was not eligible for daddy surgery. Bummer, but oh well! Now, here's where some bullshit happened. While they were in there, they saw that my liver has been getting its head kicked in. I mean, Ol' Livvy (hereinafter referred to as Erika for reasons) has been through a lot, what with the chemo, the cancer, and maybe me giving it the occasional pump up punch (they work, i swear.) The equipment in Houston is some next level shit, so it also picked up a few more tumors than the stuff at home did. So there's also that. #sick #tight #blessed

      ON TOP OF THAT they discovered that the chemo that was so effective for so long stopped working. Apparently every cell in my body, healthy or otherwise, is stubborn as fuck. So my healthy cells were like "bro....get tf out of here. I'm sick of your shit." and developed a mutation to fight the ol' cheem cheem. Pretty fucking cool actually. But of the 3 chemos I've been getting, one isn't working and the other two are just running rampant and have been wreaking havoc on poor Erika fro 4 months. A lot less fucking cool. She's a little upset with Papa bear.

    So, now we're here. A few extra tumors I didn't know about, Erika just went three full bouts against Conor McGregor (knocked that bitch out each time though....) can't have surgery, and.......we're in a pretty rough spot here.

     One doctor wants to do radiation because it would wipe out the tumors, but, due to the beating Erika's taken, he can't because there's a high risk of it pushing me into liver failure(read: It would definitely happen) and that would totally fucking suck even though failure isn't in Erika's vocabulary. Radiation these days is SUPER accurate which I didn't know. It's no longer just blasting the whole organ with radiation, they shoot hyper accurate laser beams at the tumors. Also pretty cool, but even with that level of accuracy the small, small amount of healthy liver it would singe would do this thing called throw me into liver failure. Probably. Would still totally suck.

     Now, here's the good news. Remember the blood biopsy I mentioned early? Well, if you googled it, you're about to find out why what it is really doesn't matter and that you should have just listened to me so go fuck yourself. Results from all those tests came back and they were actually what discovered the mutation I developed in the first place. So they discovered why the chemo wasn't working. That's awesome, right?! Well!!!! They also discovered a totally different chemo that ignores the mutation and it still works and will be effective! Dope!! On top of that, it's less harsh and I won't require the other chemo that is beating my liver up! Super doope!! Erika gets a bit of a breather, chemo goes back to working, bing bang boom.

     Now, That's well and good. But here's the deal...effective chemo or not, I've been getting A LOT of chemo for a long time now. Two years now, with two other radiation based procedures mixed in I've been handling all of it and the side effects really well for the most part, but can I do it forever?

              Now if I were a betting man, and I'm a betting man, I'd for sure bet on myself. I will always bet on myself because fuck the odds. However, I don't WANT to do this forever. I will if needed, of course, but I really don't want to. Believe it or not, the rumors are true: Chemo fucking blows.
                                                    I want that fucking radiation.
                                                    I want to blast this shit to smithereens.
                                                    I want it to fucking die.

     Now, in order for me to do that I need to normalize my liver enzymes. My liver enzymes are very high like I said earlier, but going off the harsh chemo should help a lot. Food intake will help a lot. My mental state and focus will help the most....uss.

     Now if I can do it, I will be eligible to receive radiation. That would kill a whole mess of the cancer. a whole fucking mess of it that I want to kill. It will do some serious damage, but Erika can handle it. She'll be fed the good good for a few months and feel like a super saiyan. It would also give me another opportunity to raise my middle fingers and thrust it in everyone's face that said I can't. I've made a career out of that shit. Tell me again. I live and breath that shit. So fuck you.

Fact of the matter is though, it's game time. I can do this, but I'm at the point where minor set backs aren't minor any more. So, I'll grab the ol' lunch pail and get to work and if I could ask all of you fine folks for your continued thoughts, prayers, vibes, vaginal jade eggs, or whatever else you hippies do. That would be just excellent and most appreciated. Thank you. <3

Interlude:

Erika

(Scroll to part 2 if you don't give a shit about my liver's nickname)

     The Liver.

               The Filthy Filter.

                    The Dastardly Distiller.

                          The Lungs. That we Call Liver. Because They're Not Quite The Same. Separate, but                              Equal.

                                     The Ol' Soak Through.

                                               The Big Ooze.

                                                    The Duchess.

                                                           Ol' Livvy.

     Names all of us have used to describe our livers and livers around the world. My liver, she goes by Erika. It's not a very long story, but it starts in a hotel room. a boy. on his phone. on instagram........

         In a very special, invite only, group called The Thunk Tank someone said to me, in a conversation semi revolving around this general subject and of me complaining,

Friend 1: "You don't complain about shit outside of politics."

Me: 'The health of America is more important than the health of my liver."

Friend 2: "That's sort of true tho..."

Friend 1: "An America without Matt is not America."

(really great half time line right there. Got my freedom juices flowing.)

Me: "Let's just call her America."

Me: "América. For better representation."

Friend 2: "What about Suzanne?"

Friend 2: "Erika for short!"

Friend 1: "Fucking Erika."

Me: Erika. That's it. A popular Japanese name that thinks it's Japanese, but that shit is so clearly European. It's fucking Erika.

Spoiler alert: Sometimes I think I'm Japanese.

Then I found out that some of the roots of the word mean "one, alone, or unique." We have a joke in that group that I'm a One Man Wolf Pack. So...............

It's fucking Erika.


Friend 3: "Erika's a bad word, bro." (presumably about a girl or relationship that went sour)

We ignored that though.

<3

Part 2:

Why is Everything So Heavy?

     Now, I'm really not one to blast my emotions about all of this every where or to talk about certain things that inspire me or what tools I use to get me through all of this bullshit, but occasionally something happens where I feel like I should mention one. The last one being that beautiful soul Craig Sager whose energy and abundance of joy I fed off of daily. Truly a wonderful guy who dealt with what I'm dealing with with infinite grace and an iron jaw. Love him. He sadly left us for the next place.

     The one I want to talk about today is sort of wishy washy. A lot of thoughts are happening at once about this one and I'm not really sure what to talk about or how to talk about it, but I do know one thing I use to help me get through all of my issues and to help me deal with the stress. That's music. Certain songs in particular.

     There's A LOT of songs and musicians I listen to to gain strength or to find a second wind. A lot of times it's the pure feeling it makes me feel, the raw emotion it evokes, or the lyrical content.
        Some of the mainstays are:

            River Flows in You - Yiruma
            River Flows in You - Sungha Jung (they deserve their own shout outs)

            Angels on my Side - Rick Astley  (seriously. Soul Pop, team. Soul Pop. 50. Great album)

            Maggie May - Rod Stewart

            Want to Want Me - Jason Derulo
            I Took a Pill in Ibiza - Mike Posner (Seeb remix)

            Sia. Just all of Sia.

            Foxy Shazam and Coheed's entire discography.

            The Rocky Soundtracks (Every. Single. Day)

            Heavy - Linkin Park

     Now.....Typing that last one today is weird and I don't really know how to address it. I love the song because Linkin Park successfully, again, went to a different genre and succeeded. I haven't really liked Linkin Park in a loooong time, but I, like most of us, did at one point. Meant a lot to me then somehow. The real story here though is that their newest song "Heavy" spoke to me. It asked questions and touched about things that I could so intimately relate to, now more than ever.

     When you go through certain type of mental and emotional struggles, you tend to find heroes around you to feed off of and help get you through them. I have my family and friends who are god damned miracle workers and do more than you all could possibly imagine, but then you find people like Craig Sager, Frederick Douglass, Russell Westbrook, Conor McGregor, Muhammad Ali, Han Solo, Bernie Sanders, and.....Heavy by Linkin Park.

     Now, I don't know if I feel comfortable saying Chester Bennington has been my hero through all of this because I don't know how true that is. What I do know that, whoever that song personified was. Something about the lyrics were so depressing and melancholy, but Chester sang it in a way that was honest, sincere, and hopeful. I heard it as everything was so heavy, life is full of bullshit, but I'm still holding on. Maybe I heard it that way because I needed to, but who knows. It was working and it meant a lot to me. And whoever the person who it was about meant a lot to me.

     After the news of Chester's suicide this morning, it turns that song song wasn't just a song to me. It was more than a song to Chester as well. Turns out that that song was him entirely and probably not diluted by the horseshit that is Hollywood. So really, it turns out that Chester Bennington was unknowingly my hero. Which is weird to think about. I'm not really sure what to say about all of this or why I'm saying it really, but I know enough that I wanted to mention Chester in some way as just a public showing of my appreciation for what he's done for me lately (and I guess all of those years ago?)
   
     Suicide is a weird thing. It's especially weird for me to hear. Initially I think about how ungrateful those people are and how fucking unfair it is. It's hard for me to find sympathy at first for obvious reasons. Then I think about it for a moment. I'm going through some shit right now and it's heavy. I can't come close to defining the amount of emotion, the thoughts, and the feelings going on in my head at any given point in time - or even what they are! It's a lot, team. Dealing with them all is even more of a fucking event. These aren't feelings people feel unless they're in particular situations and luckily most people never come close to those particular situations. I would say the hardest part of this is that there's no blue print for me to follow. It's all so new. It's all so serious. It's just so fucking much. like I said, I can't explain it. Or I'm not in the mood to currently. But...even I'm not planning on offing myself.

          Then it hits me, what the fuck could this poor shmuck possibly be feeling or going through if this is what he thought was the answer?

          Enter Sympathy. Guys, it makes me feel sad. Terribly, terribly sad. It kills me so much that there are people out there, some that I probably know, that are feeling this about themselves or their lives or whatever. I don't know. I really hope that with another very public suicide that a healthy dialogue about mental health earnestly opens up in this country and that we're able to address such heavy topics without taboo or assumption.

I never said Part 2 was going to be well written, team.
      I said I needed to say something.
          For the record.
              Team.

     I don't know why exactly I'm writing any of this or how (clearly,) but I just want you all to know that I am so impossibly grateful for all of you in my life. All of you are such beautiful people, whether it's my immediate family, my girlfriend, my close circle of friends, or anyone beyond. If I've met you, if I've talked to you, if we've had ANY interaction. I remember you and I promise you I appreciate you. From all of the nice things you all have said to me over, not just the last two years, but the last 27, to all of the things you've done for me in the same time span. All of it has culminated to me getting this far and being who I am. I fucking love myself and I have all of you to thank for that.

     Speaking of all of those nice things, I never want to be remembered for them. I never want to be remembered for the things we've done or the things we've been through. I never want to be a memory.
     I want to continue to be those things for you, or do those things for you, or go through more bullshit together! I want what's transpired over the last two years to be one of the many stories I share with you. I use all of you every day as inspiration to get through whatever bullshit I'm going through in any particular moment. I think about the people I've met and the friends I have multiple times per day and I can't thank you guys enough.

Now, my final point I suppose is that if ANY of you come close to feeling what Chester Bennington did I will do my damnedest to try and recognize it and reach out, but if I'm missing something or if it's 3, 4, 5, 6 in the morning and you got a big cases of the anxieties please come find me. I know that's the stupidest type of advice, but the only thing I can say is I promise I know how shitty life is and I will do everything in my power to show you what an integral part you play in the beautiful thing we call life. Life isn't mine, it's not yours, it's ours. It's all of ours. We're a fucking team out here and all of us are in it together. It's so easy for any of us to periodically lose sight of that, but we're all humans, baby. It's in our DNA to help each other out. (Except in politics apparently, but they're probbbaaably Reptilians. Let's be honest.) But please. If something is getting too heavy, please unload it on me. I still got some room left. We'll get through it together.

Love you.

<3

Sorry for the super lengthy, unorganized, poorly written, hitting everywhere Part 2. But I warned you! I think! If I didn't, jokes on you I guess.

P.S. I've been given the suggestion of having an ask me anything about cancer some time. About my feelings, about what I go through, my day to day, treatment, fears, relationships, or literally anything. I know there's such a weird, morbid aura about that topic that people want to fucking know about, but are too scared to ask any random person with cancer. I didn't always have cancer. I fucking know. So that shit's not off the table either. If that's something you'd be interested in, let me know. I'll start compiling or putting something together to get it moving.

Stay Juicy

Matthew "OMWP" Klamka







   

Problems

Well it seems I'm updating this less and less. I'm going to do my best to change that, but for whatever reason writing is not coming easy to me anymore. Writer's block of the century! So for the time being, ya'll (read: me) are stuck with whatever the fuck this is:

PROBLEMS.

Sometimes you need to give yourself a pep talk

Look at yourself in the mirror and say

“Go ahead and bring that chin up.”

The world’s not all fun and games.

Seems good times are few and the bad comes in waves

It’s up to me and you to see one another through

She’s a cruel one, the mistress we call life.

She rubs your back before driving in the knife

No excuses, play like a champion.

Look to one another to lean on

There’s no better way to end the day

Knowing that in some little way

You helped someone who went astray.

We all need a little bit of guidance

A little bit of help now and then

Has helped millions of (wo)men

Get over a millon of problems.

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