My Heros

“The hero is one who kindles a great light in the world, who sets up blazing torches in the dark streets of life for men to see by.”
~ Felix Adler

Once again, it's been awhile, and there's a lot I want to get down. I hope I'm able to get it all out.

Working with animal research has been harder on me than I first thought. Today we had to put down two sheep. What's the big deal, right? I've been putting sheep down for weeks now, right? Well, these two sheep had been surgically fitted for in utero study - I won't describe the surgery, because I think some of you would be unable to stomach it - and these fetuses died. We could tell that the fetuses had died because we were getting no readings on the monitors we had implanted. This meant the mommy sheep had to be put to sleep so we could do an autopsy to see what went wrong. It just seemed so fucking useless and wasteful. We put these animals through enough, and it's really, really, really sad when, after it's all said and done, there are no results or useful data from their brave sacrifice. Emotionally, I'm NOT cool, very NOT cool. I cannot get used to this, and maybe I lose a part of my soul - my humanity - if I ever really do become cool with it. I KNOW these animals go through what they do and die so that we may learn more and hopefully translate that knowledge into real human fetal medicine. I have to hold onto that. These animals are my heros - real fucking heros - and I hope there is a special place reserved for them in Heaven.

Other than the sad part of my work, I really like what I do. I'm enjoying things in the lab and it looks like I'm finally getting hired on full-time. I've got some ideas about areas we can look into, and my PI wants me to draw up a proposal so I can start my own project - my own publication. Things are going so well, that I'm beginning to worry about them going wrong. That's fucked up, huh? I don't know why I do that, but ever since I can remember I think everything I touch will eventually turn to shit - like I'm some sort of gigantic fuck-up running around and causing destruction as a necessary function of my very existence. YES! I am neurotic - I know on an intellectual level that none of this is true, but it still feels the same, you know? Like boogey-men . . . you KNOW one is not under the bed, but you are afraid all the same. Welcome to humanity. Welcome to the world.

Sammy. My little boy is growing up so fast and I miss him. It hurts. I miss him so. I feel like such a bad father, him there, me here, but this is the best situation for now. It will not always be this way. I get to see him in a week! I cannot wait! I have more guilt and remorse - probably just holding onto some old hurts here - than I really care to describe. I'm just a simple man who wants simple things, and I cannot wait until the day that I become an everyday father again - God willing me and his mother can get along. She's not a bad person, and we're not the greatest match; but we sure did make a GREAT kid.

All the existentialism shit has taken a bit of a backseat - truth is, more will be revealed. I can only know what I know (I know it's trite, but it works for me). I'm a spiritually deficient person whom God saw fit to try and save anyway. (Thanks God!) My mood is a bit up and down, honestly. I'e had moments of pretty decent depression - especially when I think about all of my wreckage - but mostly I'm good - mostly. I have hope. I have faith. I have a newfound freedom. That angry man who wrote the first few posts of this blog, seems to have evolved into whatever this is today.

To everyone who keeps coming here to read this blog - thanks. To those who have actually said prayers on my behalf - God Bless.

Good night and God Bless.