1984, The Saga Begins

The Life Uski takes us back into the mid 80’s, 1984, November 21, to be exact. Life then was, well I don’t know, I wasn’t old enough to know or understand the world and its workings. Like all babies, I came into the world the usual way, and usual it was. At birth, it’s chance. Do you live? Do you die? Or when the doctor slaps your bum does the first urge of survival come into play with a loud rebel yell! For me, I came in silent as the lamb, not breathing, and . . . green. It’s hard being green, y’know? Well according to my dad I was green. Go figure. Why? God only knows.

So at first glance I am this freaky looking green thing with the umbilical cord wrapped around my little neck; already life was trying to kill me. Well the questions stands, did you survive? Gee, you tell me, did I? Or is this some kind of Plus One/Minus One thing? Seeing life with me in it compared to the alternative. I’m sure some great philosopher will be able to give you a better answer than I could. I’m not going to try.

Well, I did survive. Life didn’t defeat me there, it was not my Waterloo.

The doctors removed the cord and got me breathing, one of my lungs was under developed so I spent some time in a machine so that my lung would fully develop-even to this day I don’t think it has. The doctor said I’d have juvenile asthma, he was right. Through birth and the early part of my life, I struggled. It was an uphill battle sometimes but I wasn’t as bad as my cousin who needed shots and breathing treatments, so I guess in reflection, I was lucky? When I cried out for the first time, it let people know I was going to be just fine, and boy did I have some pipes or what! Did I swallow a pipe organ or something, though you’d thought I had?

I can’t tell you much about my earliest years because, like I said, I wasn’t old enough to understand. I’ve heard my parents talking about how I was quiet as a church mouse and that a lot of people thought I was “slow” or “retarded” and they meant it. I didn’t talk much to anyone; I really didn’t have anything to say to anyone about anything. I was in my own little world. I was an odd child, some would say.

I didn’t talk, I didn’t play with other kids, I did my own thing, I hid from people that I didn’t know, I would shy away from the world and everyone that tried to have contact with me. There was only one person who I followed around and that was my mom. Of course, mom was the first word I said. I didn’t say “Dad” until I was three.

Ok so I’ve kind of side tracked a little, my great-grandparents thought I was slow because I was different from my brother and my other two cousins. One of my other relatives thought I was stupid and retarded because I did not understand the concept of death. My great-grandfather had passed away and I kept asking where he was.

So for someone who struggled at an early age, for someone who was slow and retarded, for someone who was different and didn’t fit in; I think I’ve done quite well for myself and to be where I am. I think I have proved them all wrong in my own rights.