About two weeks ago, I noticed a strange bending at the sides of my vision. I saw an eye doctor who asked me what my blood pressure was. I told him I hadn’t checked my blood pressure in ten years. He checked it. 198/131. He told me that the bending in my vision was most likely caused by the fact that I’d been living with stroke level hypertension for god only knows how long. He said the pressure of the spinal fluid in my brain against my optic nerves was causing them to swell and distort my vision. He said I was going to die if I didn’t go to the emergency room the second I left his office.

I didn’t. I went home because I don’t have health insurance and I can’t afford a hospital visit. Two days later my face went numb and I felt like I was dying. The ER visit happened. I was put on blood pressure medication. I scheduled a follow up visit at a free clinic. I was put on stronger blood pressure medication and had blood work done.

Today I got the results of that blood work. I’m diabetes free. My kidney function is normal. I will survive. This time.

The two weeks since the eye doctor visit have been dark times for me, gang. I thought I was a terminator. I thought I’d never get sick. I haven’t had a flu or even a common cold in years. I have Wolverine level healing powers. My blue collar, mid west genes have served me well. But I am no longer young and I am no longer healthy.

I had a vision at the worst moment after I came home from the ER. I saw myself stroked out, sitting in a piss soaked hospital gown in the back corner of some horribly run state hospital. No friends around. No family. No access to this website. No way to communicate with you all. No control over my literary and film estates. I saw everything I’ve worked for these last 13 years rendered completely meaningless.

It scared the living fuck out of me.

I’ve called my close friends and family. I’ve cried to them. Told them how much I love them and how much I care about them even though I’m not around enough and I don’t tell them enough. I called my editor and told him I’m going to draft legal paperwork to ensure that my artistic legacy remains available after I’m gone. And I started taking care of myself. I threw out all the shitty food from my fridge. I’m watching my sodium intake and I’ve begun a doctor approved exercise regiment of mall walking until I’m cleared to join a gym and really start knocking the weight off.

I hate meds and I hate doctor visits. I’m going to get off the meds and I’m going to be healthy again. I’m not finished Strange-ing up your lives, yet, gang. I have 40 or 50 more books to write before you’re done with me.

Get your health right. Someone loves you.