14 Nisan 2012 Cumartesi

Dying in Pain

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It's Friday morning, or afternoon if you're a normal person.  I'm grabbing a coffee before my first real doctor visit in twenty years.  Yes, twenty years.  I haven't had a check up since I was eighteen; it was for a job.  I mean, I went to the ER when I cracked my elbow, but that doesn't count.  Lately I've had some pretty crazy pain in my legs, mostly the joints, and now my ankles have been swolen for a week and a half.  When I wake up every day, I can barely stand up.  Who knows what's wrong; hart failure, kidney failure, blood clots from sitting my ass at a poker table everyday, poor circulation, who knows... well, I guess WE'LL know after today.  Oh, and apparently, according to a urine analysis at an Urgent Care facility I visited after the initial panic of having my ankles sweel up like an elephant's, there's protien and bilirubin in my pee.  These idicate not-so-perfectly functioning kidneys and liver.  WTF?  See why I'm panicked?

Enough about the fact that I'm on my deathbed, or death-Starbuck's-chair, on to poker.  There's not too much to tell.  This week was a bit crappy due to starting out at 5-10.  Don't get me wrong, the game is soft.  I just happened to be card-dead and the game, both monday and tuesday, sucked ass.  They were the slowest games ever and there seemed to be a whirlwind of unfocus and confuson swirling the table.  They couldn't keep the seats filled and running a must-move seems beyond the floor's comprehension.  The players were more concerned about filling the one open seat than playing hands.  Players get on the list and then don't want to play when they're called.  I can't explain what sucked so bad.  I guess it's because 5-10 is normally the biggest game in the room.  After two days and a downtick of $1200, I went back to my bread and butter, 2-5.

Wednesday night I played eight hours and scooped up $672.  The goal last night was to grab the rest of what I lost at 5-10 and make up the hotel for the week at least.  No such luck as I battled all night, downswinging  to -$400, upswinging back to +$600, downswinging back to -$600, and then finishing +$215.  I flopped AdKhQh holding AhJh against a guy who didn't even know what the "turn"was.  That costed me 500 smackers.  Then I turned the nut straight with T7 on a 5896 board. Guy bet $15, I popped to $40, and a crazy, old asian lady re-popped to $215.  $215!!!  Guy folded, and I shoved and the lady put her last $180 or so in with a lonely 7. What a roller coaster of a night.

My hourly is staying strong at $57.12 over the last 326.2 hours.  I like that much.  I just need more hours.  I've found that the earlier I get in the room, the bigger my stack grows by the end of the night.  I'm trying to work hard, I really am.  I have an enourmous amount of stress.  One non-poker-related life-stress that I've been dealing with for the last two years has reached epic level in recent weeks.  Thing that have never happened in my life have happened.  I think the stress has caused this health problem, whatever it may be, to openly present itself.  For all I know, that may be a good thing.  I don't drink, smoke or use any drugs, but I am NOT the healthiest person.  I'm scared to go to the doctor, but I will go.  And in case anyone cares whether I live or die, I'll report back here.

The sick part about all the life-stress is that part of me feels that I deserve it.  I think that, for most of my life, I've felt that I don't deserve to be happy.  I thought I was getting past that, but maybe I'm not.  I am still trying though, and the fact that I'm allowing myself to be dedicated and work hard at poker and make money is evidence that I AM trying.

So long as they don't rush me into emergency surgery, I'll keep posted on the health issue.  And if that wacko is right and Jesus comes back tomorrow (right), it won't matter!


Gone through days without talking
There is a comfort in silence
So used to losing all ambition
Struggling to maintain what's left

Once undone, there's only smoke
Burning in my eyes to blind
To cover up what really happened
Force the darkness onto me

There is a wound that's always bleeding
There is a road I'm alwasy walking
And I know you'll never return to this place...

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