TheRevoltingBlob
Club Member
After being nominated as one of the finalists for Best New Poster, I've decided to "introduce myself" about 9 months after re-joining (so I'm not sure I even technically qualify for the award). I never posted an intro because I honestly didn't think I would remain healthy enough to stick around. So stop reading if you don't want a long winded story about my life because that's what I'm about to post. People tend to find it interesting, and I enjoy sharing it. It also includes disturbing details, and I really do mean that as a warning to those that are squeamish. I also promise that FinHeaven comes in at some point.
When I was in college back in 2007 I moved into a house with 8 of my friends that was severely contaminated with black mold. We were unaware of the issue. I was on medication that suppressed my immune system, so while my roomates did suffer effects, it had by far the worst impact on me. After a semester living there I was having difficulty concentrating in school and was suffering significant anxiety, depression, and emotional detachment.
(***explicit content begins here) I was so far gone that one day I decided to take a knife and attempt suicide. I hope none of you have ever attempted suicide, but the movies make it seem a lot easier than it is. I cut my left arm, my jugular, and my abdomen (this is my attempt to sugarcoat how bad it was). Eventually my roommates grew worried about me and barged in. Though they were in shock after seeing me, and understandably hesitated in stopping me from walking out of the house. I ended up in a neighbors backyard, where I hoped that would be the end. A police search involving helicopters led them to finding me and they were successfully able to re-start my heart, since I had flatlined.
After spending enough time away from that house, which was quickly torn down upon inspection, I started feeling much better. However, in the hospital I developed MRSA (aka. flesh eating bacteria) in my arm. It was very similar to the situation that Alex Smith went through with his leg. I went into surgery with a 50% chance of losing my lower arm, and am grateful that did not happen. However I was now missing over 6 inches of every nerve, artery, and tendon on the anterior (palm) side of my arm and you could see plenty of bone.
My father, who was actually an unofficial dental specialist for the Dolphins, used every connection he had to get me the #1 hand surgeon in the country. Given the state of my hand, their expectations were for me to hopefully be able to pinch so that I could tie my shoes and such. Just try living a single morning as a 1 handed person and you'll realize how much being able to pinch with the other is a life changer. But I had always dreamed of being a dentist like my father. So I was not going to accept that when there was a much more promising, but also much riskier option on the table. So I chose the route of an very complex experimental surgery (technically multiple separate ones).
Dealing with all these surgeries was the first of many times that I experienced extreme social isolation. Even though I had plenty of friends, but you drift apart when your life stops and theirs all move forward. I didn't help that I loathed social media. So looked at online communities, where I could interact w people yet still remain anonymous. I took to one particular site in 2009, FinHeaven. My username was CharlieTheTuna then. I was on a constant stream of morphine drips and other opiates, so my post count was not very high. But I loved it here. I tried finding equivalent sites like this for other teams I am a fan of, but this one stood out. The drugs turned me into more of a lurker, but I probably read every post on the main Fins forum that year.
The surgeries were a massive success, but now was the hard part, rehab. After this type of surgery, your hand comes out like a stiff claw. It is up to you how much function you gain. This is where I completely disappeared, not just from this site, but from the world because I was determined to prove everyone wrong. They give you a sheet of how many times you are supposed to do each exercise. I basically said **** your sheet, and did every exercise and stretch imaginable every waking hour of the day. I developed an opiate addiction in order to deal with the pain I was putting my hand through. I was able to kick that surprisingly easily all things considered. They were still handing out Oxycodone like candy back then.
In the end, my doctor (who was considered the #1 hand surgeon in the country mind you) declared that I had the single-most remarkable hand recovery of any person they had ever witnessed. They still did not believe dental school was a possibility though. So I finished my last semester of college, but I knew it would take something extra to get dental schools to take someone that had 7 hand surgeries under their belt seriously. So I applied to work at a dental lab and made crowns and bridges. A common theme in my life began here, bc while I had to do many things differently, my results were always good. Not only did I get into dental school, but I got into basically every one I applied to.
After this accomplishment I was invited to be featured in a "you can do anything" sort of commercial for Clorox, along with an NFL player and a Navy Seal that had also overcome serious injuries with the help of my Dr's network of high profile colleagues. Not sure how they were going to tie this to cleaning supplies, but that's marketing for you. However they pulled out and decided to go in a "different direction." Basically what I'm saying is **** Clorox.
I don't want to get too much into motivational BS. But I was told I would never get into dental school and I would never play basketball or guitar again. I did all three. I actually relearned guitar by simply flipping it over, since my left hand can't play chords. But I didn't restring it lefty. I just figured out how to make it work. And in my first organized basketball game since my return, I scored my dental school intramural team's first 16 points (even though I can't really dribble with my off hand). Some things are impossible, but only you know what you are made of. Never let someone else try to tell you what that is. I heard a lot of opinions on what I would or wouldn't be able to do, but the only one I ever cared about was mine.
So dental school started out just fine, but no one had any idea that the old mold infection was a ticking time bomb that had been brewing in my system all those years. By my 2nd semester I had to leave early bc there was obviously something very wrong. My cognitive abilities and motor function were declining and I had lost the ability to sleep without heavy duty antipsychotics. It took years until a doctor tested me for mold, where my levels showed to be off the charts. An fMRI scan showed that my brain was completely inflamed and swollen. Certain areas were shrunken so that it could simply fit in my head. I was diagnosed with a neuroinflammatory condition due to chronic mold toxicity.
About 2-3 years ago I found doctors that actually understood how to treat me and finally began showing progress, even though it is an endless battle bc the mold always seems to find a way to grow back. But overall I have made steady gains, and am no longer bedridden and in completely unbearable pain. Having proper meds helps a lot there.
It was this past year that I finally began feeling like my old self for the first time in over a decade. I started tutoring organic chemistry again, which I had done professionally in college. I began reconnecting with old friends and am no longer dead to the world. Don't get me wrong, I am still extremely sick, but I make the best of it and I have what I would consider somewhat of a life now.
But I still feel pretty damn isolated (nothing to do w Covid). So I had the idea in April when draft talk was in full swing to become active on this website again. But my old account was connected to a deactivated school email address and I couldn't remember the password. So TheRevoltingBlob was born. When I did finally remember it, it seems like you jerks had scrubbed all my old posts anyway. I have my good and bad days, but I have tried to be as active in my 9 months here as possible. And I have honestly been made to feel right a home (99% of the time). I want to give shoutouts to @fishfanmiami who informed me I was a finalist for Best New Poster (and has genuinely seemed liked a really good guy in our interactions) and @13marino13 who early on named me as a poster worth sponsoring for a club membership during a fund drive. And thanks @Ozfin for sponsoring me. And congrats to @Fin-Loco and @Neptune for also being named finalists. Both very good contributors IMO.
These might seem like dumb things to take much meaning from, but this football season has been my favorite ever by far. In part bc it was the first I could fully enjoy since my 20's. But a whole lot has been due to my time here. I honestly don't care about winning some online forum award. But as someone that has been dead to the world for really long time, it has felt good to know that I'm not just typing words at a screen (using both hands mind you). It seems like you guys have liked what I've had to say (for the most part), and I just felt immediately embraced in this community. I aim to continue on my path to toward healing, and desperately hope I avoid anymore serious setbacks.
I don't know what to expect in terms of responses to this post and I'm not looking for anything in particular. But it is not hyperbole to say that I am in a constant battle to remain alive. I have kept the vast majority of my journey to myself during this time, and I have found it therapeutic to share it with anyone or group that might care to hear about it. And I'd like to think that sharing my story might help out others that are going through their own difficult times in some way.
Sorry for the book I just wrote, and sorry if this isn't an appropriate place to put so much personal info. But sharing this seems to be an all or nothing deal for me.
But honestly, thank you for making what has been a really ****ty year (for everyone) a little less ****ty for me.
When I was in college back in 2007 I moved into a house with 8 of my friends that was severely contaminated with black mold. We were unaware of the issue. I was on medication that suppressed my immune system, so while my roomates did suffer effects, it had by far the worst impact on me. After a semester living there I was having difficulty concentrating in school and was suffering significant anxiety, depression, and emotional detachment.
(***explicit content begins here) I was so far gone that one day I decided to take a knife and attempt suicide. I hope none of you have ever attempted suicide, but the movies make it seem a lot easier than it is. I cut my left arm, my jugular, and my abdomen (this is my attempt to sugarcoat how bad it was). Eventually my roommates grew worried about me and barged in. Though they were in shock after seeing me, and understandably hesitated in stopping me from walking out of the house. I ended up in a neighbors backyard, where I hoped that would be the end. A police search involving helicopters led them to finding me and they were successfully able to re-start my heart, since I had flatlined.
After spending enough time away from that house, which was quickly torn down upon inspection, I started feeling much better. However, in the hospital I developed MRSA (aka. flesh eating bacteria) in my arm. It was very similar to the situation that Alex Smith went through with his leg. I went into surgery with a 50% chance of losing my lower arm, and am grateful that did not happen. However I was now missing over 6 inches of every nerve, artery, and tendon on the anterior (palm) side of my arm and you could see plenty of bone.
My father, who was actually an unofficial dental specialist for the Dolphins, used every connection he had to get me the #1 hand surgeon in the country. Given the state of my hand, their expectations were for me to hopefully be able to pinch so that I could tie my shoes and such. Just try living a single morning as a 1 handed person and you'll realize how much being able to pinch with the other is a life changer. But I had always dreamed of being a dentist like my father. So I was not going to accept that when there was a much more promising, but also much riskier option on the table. So I chose the route of an very complex experimental surgery (technically multiple separate ones).
Dealing with all these surgeries was the first of many times that I experienced extreme social isolation. Even though I had plenty of friends, but you drift apart when your life stops and theirs all move forward. I didn't help that I loathed social media. So looked at online communities, where I could interact w people yet still remain anonymous. I took to one particular site in 2009, FinHeaven. My username was CharlieTheTuna then. I was on a constant stream of morphine drips and other opiates, so my post count was not very high. But I loved it here. I tried finding equivalent sites like this for other teams I am a fan of, but this one stood out. The drugs turned me into more of a lurker, but I probably read every post on the main Fins forum that year.
The surgeries were a massive success, but now was the hard part, rehab. After this type of surgery, your hand comes out like a stiff claw. It is up to you how much function you gain. This is where I completely disappeared, not just from this site, but from the world because I was determined to prove everyone wrong. They give you a sheet of how many times you are supposed to do each exercise. I basically said **** your sheet, and did every exercise and stretch imaginable every waking hour of the day. I developed an opiate addiction in order to deal with the pain I was putting my hand through. I was able to kick that surprisingly easily all things considered. They were still handing out Oxycodone like candy back then.
In the end, my doctor (who was considered the #1 hand surgeon in the country mind you) declared that I had the single-most remarkable hand recovery of any person they had ever witnessed. They still did not believe dental school was a possibility though. So I finished my last semester of college, but I knew it would take something extra to get dental schools to take someone that had 7 hand surgeries under their belt seriously. So I applied to work at a dental lab and made crowns and bridges. A common theme in my life began here, bc while I had to do many things differently, my results were always good. Not only did I get into dental school, but I got into basically every one I applied to.
After this accomplishment I was invited to be featured in a "you can do anything" sort of commercial for Clorox, along with an NFL player and a Navy Seal that had also overcome serious injuries with the help of my Dr's network of high profile colleagues. Not sure how they were going to tie this to cleaning supplies, but that's marketing for you. However they pulled out and decided to go in a "different direction." Basically what I'm saying is **** Clorox.
I don't want to get too much into motivational BS. But I was told I would never get into dental school and I would never play basketball or guitar again. I did all three. I actually relearned guitar by simply flipping it over, since my left hand can't play chords. But I didn't restring it lefty. I just figured out how to make it work. And in my first organized basketball game since my return, I scored my dental school intramural team's first 16 points (even though I can't really dribble with my off hand). Some things are impossible, but only you know what you are made of. Never let someone else try to tell you what that is. I heard a lot of opinions on what I would or wouldn't be able to do, but the only one I ever cared about was mine.
So dental school started out just fine, but no one had any idea that the old mold infection was a ticking time bomb that had been brewing in my system all those years. By my 2nd semester I had to leave early bc there was obviously something very wrong. My cognitive abilities and motor function were declining and I had lost the ability to sleep without heavy duty antipsychotics. It took years until a doctor tested me for mold, where my levels showed to be off the charts. An fMRI scan showed that my brain was completely inflamed and swollen. Certain areas were shrunken so that it could simply fit in my head. I was diagnosed with a neuroinflammatory condition due to chronic mold toxicity.
About 2-3 years ago I found doctors that actually understood how to treat me and finally began showing progress, even though it is an endless battle bc the mold always seems to find a way to grow back. But overall I have made steady gains, and am no longer bedridden and in completely unbearable pain. Having proper meds helps a lot there.
It was this past year that I finally began feeling like my old self for the first time in over a decade. I started tutoring organic chemistry again, which I had done professionally in college. I began reconnecting with old friends and am no longer dead to the world. Don't get me wrong, I am still extremely sick, but I make the best of it and I have what I would consider somewhat of a life now.
But I still feel pretty damn isolated (nothing to do w Covid). So I had the idea in April when draft talk was in full swing to become active on this website again. But my old account was connected to a deactivated school email address and I couldn't remember the password. So TheRevoltingBlob was born. When I did finally remember it, it seems like you jerks had scrubbed all my old posts anyway. I have my good and bad days, but I have tried to be as active in my 9 months here as possible. And I have honestly been made to feel right a home (99% of the time). I want to give shoutouts to @fishfanmiami who informed me I was a finalist for Best New Poster (and has genuinely seemed liked a really good guy in our interactions) and @13marino13 who early on named me as a poster worth sponsoring for a club membership during a fund drive. And thanks @Ozfin for sponsoring me. And congrats to @Fin-Loco and @Neptune for also being named finalists. Both very good contributors IMO.
These might seem like dumb things to take much meaning from, but this football season has been my favorite ever by far. In part bc it was the first I could fully enjoy since my 20's. But a whole lot has been due to my time here. I honestly don't care about winning some online forum award. But as someone that has been dead to the world for really long time, it has felt good to know that I'm not just typing words at a screen (using both hands mind you). It seems like you guys have liked what I've had to say (for the most part), and I just felt immediately embraced in this community. I aim to continue on my path to toward healing, and desperately hope I avoid anymore serious setbacks.
I don't know what to expect in terms of responses to this post and I'm not looking for anything in particular. But it is not hyperbole to say that I am in a constant battle to remain alive. I have kept the vast majority of my journey to myself during this time, and I have found it therapeutic to share it with anyone or group that might care to hear about it. And I'd like to think that sharing my story might help out others that are going through their own difficult times in some way.
Sorry for the book I just wrote, and sorry if this isn't an appropriate place to put so much personal info. But sharing this seems to be an all or nothing deal for me.
But honestly, thank you for making what has been a really ****ty year (for everyone) a little less ****ty for me.
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