How can we chat in private? I don’t know how much I’ve told you but I’ve been looking over my shoulder at the Grim Reaper my almost entire 79 years of this nightmare. I didn’t even get out of my mother’s body before I was thrown into the crisis that has haunted me ever since. Nothing like getting stuck in the birth canal, with only short moments to live before death takes over. I made it out, actually yanked out, while my brain and pituitary gland were damaged beyond repair back then.

Just 6 short months later, my mother rushes to me the local hospital in tears I’m in critical condition, unable to hold down my mother’s milk because of an unknown and untreated genetic bowel disorder. Two doctor’s there exam me and proclaim to my weeping mother, take your child home, they’re dying from a condition call “Waste of Life” and there’s nothing can be done. I still suffer from the condition and wanted to go see a geneticist to see what can be done to help me. I’make it thru that crisis with the help of a medicine man/shaman because my maternal grandfather is Native American.

Just 4 short months later, fate and my destiny has me crawling from a dining room into the kitchen. In between them is a archway and a door leading to our basement. Someone (my 2 1/2yo brother I believe) opened the door to block my way to the kitchen. Not realizing the danger, I proceed to fall down a complete flight of hard, bare wooden stairs and hit the concrete wall and floor. No sounds passes my lips, no tears exit my eyes, nothing but a limp baby being cuddled in their mother’s arms. Unknown to my mother, I have suffered a nasty concussion and more untreated brain damage. My daddy was a coal miner but wasn’t working at the time, so there is no money to take me to a doctor or the hospital. I’m not even 1 year old yet snd I’m living a nightmare I can’t wake up from, literally. My mother comforts me, writes in my baby book about the event as I sleep in her arms (not good). She tells how I tumbled down the entire basement steps till I hit the bottom wall. She makes this notation. Didn’t make a sound, only got a few scratches, gee mom, didn’t even cry!!! I wonder why. Could it be because I was knocked unconscious and sustained my 1st of 10 life long, knock out concussions.

I must stop but my nightmare continues for another 78 years, that’s 3 quarters of a century. So how do you chat privately on here, I have no idea? I know how much you’ve suffered yourself and would appreciate having you as a friend and comforter. Becky1024