To Start

Hi, my name is Randy and this is my blog. I've decided to make this blog due to numerous people telling me that I should start one. I've had a blog before but that was for a video game.

Alright, so let me tel you about myself. I'm 23, I've had a double Lung transplant, and I've lead a very long and interesting life. You see, I was born with Cystic Fibrosis. It's a fun little disease.

See, CF(Cystic Fibrosis for short[And no, I'm not insulting you. I've had people who didn't know what I was talking about after I told them I had Cystic Fibrosis and then abbreviated it.]) affects many things. First and for-most it affects the lungs. The way I like to explain CF to people is it's like a row of Dominos. You start out putting up one at a time and as soon as you get your first infect, the row starts to fall over.

For me, my Dominos started falling at the rip old age of 13.

When I was a kid, I was stupid. As was any kid. I never grew up never thinking about CF as any sort of threat to my way of life. Sure, I'd constantly tell people I have it but for me, it was just something there. I never held myself back as a kid, I never missed anything school wise cause I was sick. I was basically a normal kid. But once 13 hit, it all fell apart.

At the ripe old age of 13, I had one of my doctors inform me that I wouldn't live to see 25 because CF would most likely kill me by then. While it hurt to hear it didn't really hit me like it should have. If it did, I would have taken much better care of myself. I was a very stupid kid. For me, I weighed anything health related on the outlook of my doctors. If they never worried, I never worried.

I was an active child, just like any child. I played Baseball, I roller bladed, biked, all that fun kid shit.(Yes, I do swear. I enjoy swearing). So, because I was so active CF never really hit me hard as a kid. I was sick only a few time.

The first time I remember ever being in the Hospital was when I was 5. It wasn't for a lung infection or being sick. No, that would be too simple. For you see, I was in the hospital for something much more....painful.

First, let me explain that I have a family, much like any human on this planet. I have two Brothers, and my mom. My dad wasn't ever really in the picture. I'll explain about him in a later post. Anyways, back to my family. I have an old brother, Matthew, a younger Brother, Jason, and my mother, Denine.

Both my brothers are extremely selfish and angry at the world. I don't know why they're angry but they are.

Back to the story.

Matt was having some friends over and they were playing Kickball in our Backyard. After sometime in, one of them hit the ball over our neighbors fence. Me, being the younger brother wanting to impress my older brother said "It's okay, I'll get it" and thus began my first embarrassing story.

I climbed the sharp metal wired fence, I got the ball, kicked it back over, and on my way back, I caught/cut/tore/ripped something on said fence. I didn't cut my leg, arm, or anything fun. No, that would be too simple. You see, I caught my penis on the fence.

As I begun to rip my penis on the fence, I let out a scream of extreme pain. Everyone stops and looks at me, I finish climbing over the fence and start to cry. For about 3 seconds everyone looked confused, then, the blood started to roll down my leg. Everyone had this look of worry and confusion as no one knew what I had cut. I think the starring lasted for 10 seconds before I dropped my pants.

That's right, infront of my older brother, his friends, and my younger brother, I dropped my shorts after I cut my penis on the fence. The looks of confusion then turned to looks of horror. My brother soon fainted and split his head open on the cement part of our backyard.

Now, it gets a little hazy after but that I remember I was laughing for a bit. I think the shock got to me and that's how I ended up handling it. I then remember my younger brother, Jason run inside screaming to get my mom. I vaguely remember her putting a massive towel on my dick and rushing to what I believe was a Taxi but she always said we drove.

Ya, that's my first hospital incident that I remember. After that, my whole life was.....blank in my memory till I was 10. I remember bits and pieces but I know I'm missing a lot.

So with that, I will end this first blog post and I will post many more. I wouldn't worry about running out of medical stories as they constantly continue to happen.

Till next time, and thank you for reading this.