Background

Back in July, I had a simple surgery for a gallbladder removal. Little did I know that this would turn into a 6+ month ordeal. The surgeon made a mistake – he clipped the wrong bile duct. This led to the inability of the body to drain any bile from the liver causing severe issues. I was in severe pain, turned yellow (jaundice), had very bad liver labs spending a week in the hospital. Then I required an external biliary drain for 3 months, couldn’t lift more than 15 lbs, got an infection, spent another 5 days in the hospital, and then had countless procedures to adjust the drain over those 3 months. I finally received the ‘fix it’ surgery in early November which led to another week in the hospital. This has given me a nice 8.5” scar. Then to top it all off, that incision was infected and required to be re-cut open in a 2” and 1” spot in December. The final level of this… adventure… was weaning off opiods after requiring them since July to be able to semi-function normally. But I did it, I won.

Putting Ego Aside

I am a shitty patient. My (now) wife who is an RN with a Master’s in Nursing told me something was wrong early. I didn’t listen. When I turned yellow – I still fought it as ‘normal’ and not needing to go to the hospital. Thankfully, she took it upon herself to call the doctor who told her to get me the fuck (my words) to the ER ASAP. Then I attempted to convince her that I could drive myself. How much easier – and potentially less impactful – it would have been to admit something was wrong, stop fighting the pain and get my ass to the ER a day earlier.

The second instance of stupidity was laying in the hospital at some ungodly dark hour in intensive pain. I was determined not to hit the call button thinking “I can fight through this, I don’t need meds”. I eventually realized how stupid this process was, pushed the button and got pain medicine. It was idiotic to not hit the button for hours because my ego told me not to be “weak” and instead I just laid in pain for more time than needed.

The third instance of stupidity was getting released from the hospital and a few days (not even a week) later a tree fell from a storm in the yard. Pfft – easy shit, I lifted the tree off the bushes it was crushing, cut that motherfucker up into pieces and carried it to the woods. Two days later I was back in the hospital where the external drain got pulled out 1” and now there was an infection. This led to me to believing the doctor and restrictions placed on me. No lifting more than 15 lbs from here out.

I’m sure there was other instances where my ego got the best of me, but those first two weeks, I refused to accept what I needed to – I was in bad shape and this was going to take awhile to recover.

Refusal to accept reality is a big part of your ego fighting the true nature of your circumstances. I didn’t want to be seen as “weak” or “vulnerable” or “less than”. But let’s be honest – I was. I was in bad bad shape.

Negative Thoughts and Frame

Throughout the ordeal, staying positive was… difficult. Stoicism was extremely helpful. Re-reading Meditations frequently helped. However, there were some dark days. Where the pain, the uselessness, the weakness did get to me. My outlet was to vent to friends or family – never my wife. But she knew (they always know). It was important to focus on what I could do and not what I couldn’t. I still could work, I could still lead the family, I could still manage finances, I could still do some hobbies that didn’t require a lot of physical effort.

At the end though (late October), I couldn’t do much. I was needing to be in bed most of the day and I could barely work. It was tough to be positive. I took a new mental tactic and just worked to survive until the next day. No expectations on myself except make it until tomorrow.

Not Being a Victim

Despite, this medical… incident happening, I rarely felt like a victim. The situation was what it was – I couldn’t magically fix it. I would have to survive through it, and I told myself I’d have a great story tell (I do). The biggest challenge was in talking to others who knew the situation (mainly my wife and mother). These people were pissed at the original surgeon and the situation. Not feeding their emotions and just continuing to live life to the best of my ability was the answer. It is vital to look at circumstances in terms of what you can and can’t control. Their emotions were theirs – it would have been easy to get into a victim mentality, but focusing on not being a victim, being as strong as possible – being the oak helped not only myself – but those around me.

The Importance of Lifting

I could not lift for months. This was tough. Maybe the toughest part. My main outlet of negative emotions was lifting and now this was removed from my life. Too much time stuck in bed with nothing but my thoughts reinforced my belief that lifting is a critical component of any man’s life. As soon as my doctor told me to lift again – starting at very low weights (which is still better than half of the OYS which is.. sad) I did. That day – I was back with weights testing myself.

Embracing the Challenge

Mentally – it was all about one challenge after another. First the error, then the hospital stays, then the pain, then the recovery, then the setbacks, and finally the opioid addiction. All were challenges. All I could have succumbed to. I didn’t – I beat them. And I’m a better man for it. In life when facing a challenge, we can either overcome it or let it beat us. I won. Every challenge, I won. At times it was two steps forward and one back, but I won.

In Summary

MRP gave the tools not only to 1) get the sex I want 2) be comfortable with myself 3) find a woman who adds value to my life 4) allow me to be the fun, engaging person socially and 5) give no fucks about being who I truly am, but also to overcome this challenge. If this happened before MRP – I shudder to think of the outcome. I would have been a whiny bitch and allowed life to rule me versus me ruling life. The application and lessons here can be applied to shitty sex lives, bad marriages, being a fat fuck, whatever. They’re just… challenges to overcome. One by one, set goals, and achieve them.

Some of you know me – I’ve been through some shit in life. That’s ok – I wouldn’t have had it differently, because all those challenges, all that shit – that’s what makes me who I am. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thank you to /u/hornsofapathy /u/red-sfpplus /u/inchargeman /u/bobbyperu for putting the 'dark times' in perspective.