Long story short... I guess I fractured a bone in my left arm (not sure which one, I was never really told) and didn't go to the doctor for three months when I was 13. I couldn't use it much, but I just hate doctors and avoid at all costs. So, from September until roughly November, the hospital up here said there wasn't much wrong with it... They drew fluid from it, took X-rays... Went to a different hospital, did a few tests, an MRI... Nothing. Went to a hospital down in Green Bay (bigger city) and they drew some blood and shot the white blood cells back in to see if they'd attack an infection... Don't really remember the results... Finally, they recommended me to the children's hospital down in Milwaukee around late January...
My dad and I get down there (about 180 miles away) on Monday, they start an MRI, pull me out, give me an IV, and tell me I'm staying there all week and getting surgery on Wednesday. They told my dad they weren't positive if it was an infection, but if it was, amputation may be necessary. So, they cut my elbow open, take out a bone chip, give me a PICC line, and wake me up. Later that night, in my room, as my dad is laying on the couch (he stayed on a small, hard couch the entire week with me) my heart stopped beating because I couldn't handle all the medicine they gave me. Brought out a defibrillator, and got me back to kickin.
Had one arm with a PICC line all wrapped up, and my other arm in one of those metal casts that you can take off, as I had to change the gauze every day. To this day, I still can't fully use my left arm, but it's still here. Had to quit playing bass because of it and switched to guitar.
Also, not terrible, but it really kind of screwed me up... My mom got transferred from Rockford, IL to Green Bay with her job in 1998. She moved up here while my dad took care of my brother and I for about three months down there, until we were able to move up here. So, we moved up here to a one bedroom motel room, my mom had the car so my dad had to walk to work in winter in Wisconsin... Well, she left us to live with a new guy. She got kicked out, so she came back with us. We were able to purchase a house, and she was... My mom. She had the cops follow her here, and when she continually refused to exit the car, they smashed the window and arrested her. That's when my dad said enough was enough and she found... Other guys. My dad raised myself and my brother, who wasn't even his child, but has been raising since he was about five.
When my brother turned 17, he hated rules and moved out, and has made increasingly worse decisions over the past ten years. I honestly don't hate those two for what they did to our family, but I look at them and see how I never want to turn out.
The bad things in life make you realize what it takes to live to the fullest and how to be the best you can. You don't take shit for granted, and everybody in here I'm sure have used the horrible situations they have been thrust into to better themselves.