This time, no background music…

No long, drawn out story. Not this time. No whining, no sorrowful violins in the background to pull on your heart-strings, no slow build to the point and the reason why.
You already know that if you’ve read nearly anything I’ve written recently, most likely.

I need the herbs that keep me going & keep the swelling & pain mostly at bay, and I need help to get those things in order to keep fighting.
And right now I’m negative $9.31 in my account. (Love those automatic charges…)

If you can help… and if not, believe me – I completely understand.

Paypal: ksea@culturefluxmagazine.com

or (slower with fees)

https://www.gofundme.com/fightingkflux

Advertisements

More To Do

(I know – this is a bit long for the anti-attention society these days – but I would appreciate if you read it & got the *whole* story. Far too often I talk with people who only know a little – because they only read a little, yet think they know all that’s happening. Nearly the whole story *is* in these pages, but you only get it if you take a couple extra minutes to read the posts in their entirety.)

I first heard of it 15 months ago. Some amazing new drug, with almost no side effects and a 95% success rate of curing Hepatitis-C.

This was a far cry from the Interferon therapy that we – John (my doctor) Val, my Hep-C advocate & I – tried a few years ago, long before the 18 months I spent in the hospice. That was one of the worst nightmares I have gone through with any drug – not only effecting me physically, but as an added bonus some very serious thoughts of cracking the head open of anyone walking too slow in front of me… and frequently of suicide.
I had given up on you. All of you.

I used to wonder how long it would take someone to find me in my motorhome, if anyone would even notice I was dead. None of my “friends” ever called or checked in just to say hello, and my thinking was twisted to feeling as if I already was dead – it was difficult to find any reason not to make it just a little more real. At least the pain in my heart would likely be gone…
Thankfully, after three straight months of this they weren’t getting the results the wanted, and I was taken off the Interferon – otherwise it would have been another year & three months, and deep inside, I knew that I wasn’t strong enough to make it through. Every time it entered my mind, ending everything made so much more sense. If they were too busy to call, they didn’t have the right to miss me… but I couldn’t let John & Val down. They had cared so much over the years, tried so hard – and now it was time to try again.

After 6 months of battle with the insurance companies, I was finally authorized to try this new drug, Harvoni. Six months, one pill a day, and I made them swear – minimal side effects.

They were true to their word.

After six months on Harvoni and another three to make certain it was effective, I got my final blood tests back this past Wednesday – and I am officially cured of Hepatitis-C.
When John called to tell me the news, I didn’t have the heart to tell him what I really feel – that this is an empty victory. That the damage has been done. Being cured of Hep-C at this point means nearly nothing. While the virus caused the problems, they are their own entity. Hep-C was the gun – but the bullet caused the destruction.

I still need to take the herbs daily, still need to watch my diet & eat the best things possible – but now there is a new fight, a new goal. One Western Medicine says isn’t possible – but Western medicine also calls me a “miracle” for coming out the other side of the hell I went through, and should be dead.

I’m alive because *you* didn’t give up on me.

I’m not a miracle more than anyone else is – I just chose to believe that I WOULD live – and now, I choose to believe that I WILL reverse the cirrhosis, and have a healthy liver. No ascites, edema – and when I accomplish that, I’ll be able to inspire others to know that it IS possible – and show them how *I* did it. Even if what I do doesn’t work for them, at least they will know that it is possible – and if they let me, I intend to be there for them as LIVING proof. As I didn’t have anything like that, they will already have an advantage over me, and because of that, I am ecstatic.

But at least for now, I still need your help. You’ve kept me alive this long, and because of you (& that “being alive thing) I was able to finally find my Birth Mother – and now, the book is in high gear and I’m fucking THRILLED.

Thanks to a dear friend in Amsterdam (who I have never met – yet) I was able to afford some critical things I needed for the creation of the Kickstarter, help building an author website, and of course, herbs & good food – *even* one of the most important things for my spirit, which was getting out and being around friends and a trip to visit my Mother.

Now, I need *your* help again, if you can. If you’re still willing, if you want to see just how far I can take this. I am GOING to reverse the cirrhosis – but I need the specific herbs to do that with.

If you can – please help. My paypal is ksea@culturefluxmagazine – and I will be grateful for anything to help me achieve this – to conquer the final thing that they say I can’t.

Thank you again, & again.

I love you.

~ Casey

Lifeblood

Sooo… yeah.
I guess it’s about that time, isn’t it? I’ve been bad at keeping up in my online journal for the past… amount of time. I should do that/this before it gets out of hand, and there’s so much to say that nothing is said at all. Gots to feed the veuyerlits. (Hmm… Vueyerlits? Nope, not a word – or, at least wasn’t until now. Vueyerlit {n} def: One who more or less kinda closely follows (when they have time) the life of another through their writing.

But I digress. Things & stuffs. They’ve been happening. First, lets get that health crap out of the way. In two (TWO!) days I go in to get my bloodwork done – and this is the one I’ve been busting my ass to make right. Eating all the proper foods, staying away from detrimental ones, taking twice the dose of the herbs I need that will help (have to – since my liver is pretty much one big internal scar, I don’t absorb things the way I “should”. (and this is perhaps one of the VERY few times I would be happy to conform to what I “should” do.)

I’ve done all I could, spent nearly every dollar (except the $10 for Bernie & a bit for Isa A Shisha) on things that would help raise my platelets, red & white cells, & iron. All for surgery on my navel, which I have a CRAZY irrational phobia of other people touching – much less hacking away at. (What the HELL am I thinking? Just give me the manual and a scalpel. I’ll do this shit myself! Step away from my belly button, and no one gets hurt – got it?)

So now – money is gone, a few days left on food & the herbs – and countdown to 0:00, which is actually at 9:30am this Thursday, begins. There’s no reason to be nervous – at this point it’s either a pass or fail, essentially – and thanks to all of you, I’ve done all that I could. I’m sure as fuck going to HOPE, though – for whatever that’s worth… and continue with the mind/body meditations that got me out of the hospice, because I KNOW that helps – and hey, if any of you could slide some good energy my way, it sure would be appreciated… min’s running a tad low.

Oh, yeah. One other thing happens on that day, with the same bloodwork. It marks the 3 month limit they set… soooo, if the Hep-C virus is STILL undetectable, I am “officially” CURED OF FUCKING HEP-C!

Man. Talk about a fucking day – and I’m usually just barely getting out of bed at that time.

So, you may ask – what does being cured of Hep-C mean? Answer: Besides having the weight of possibly infecting someone else lifted off of my shoulders after fucking YEARS – not a damn thing, really. Well – the disease won’t progress, but fuck – at this point, where the hell does it have left to go? The damage – that’s been long, long since done.

BUT – NOW, I’m on a mission to figure out what herbs & concoctions can actually reverse cirrhosis. Western med can’t do it – but I’ll bet you my life (literally – haha?) that I can.

Aaaand – as if all of that wasn’t enough – there’s MORE! This is the good shit though – it’s easy, and short.
Three weeks after pulling the surprise attack on my Mother – she finally fucking called. Just to say hi, say she’s feeling better, getting around easier, and how am I?
After 10-11 months of not hearing a word from her, even through my birthday, the visit worked – and I owe it all to Kitty, who drove all the way from Sacramento to pick me up and take me another 3 hours North.

I put her pictures up again.

And yeah, there’s more – there always is, isn’t there? Even, at the rare times, where the outside is relatively calm – the mind never rests.
I fucking love it for that… but that’s for another time.

Maybe tomorrow.
Until again, I love you – and thank you for keeping me alive for all of this.

One last: and strangely enough, it’s actually an original kSea quote – I looked!

“Never let logic get in the way of your dreams.”

I fucking love you.