End of year blog update.
So far I had alukemia scare and spent the week in hospital including Christmas day with raised heart enzymes. Good news is I get myeyes operatedon the 6th and will be able to see well enough again to start writing more. Still arguing with the NDIS with them claiming i cant prove I disabled enough and suggested i had a third double lung transplant rather than rewquie their assistance. We llIll be abletosee withoutblowing up the font to 24 and do proper spacing again in a few weeks.Decidedto still dobushcraft posts.Had somegood advice.If I still enjoy it then dont give it up.It may just be setting up hot tents in the back yard testing productsinstead of goingbush.
Category: Other (Page 1 of 23)
Still having fun with the NDIS flith. The tribunial has been adjourned another 3 months. May have gotton some short teleprinter the interim, still waiting. In the meantime i have stopped driving. My eyesight gets operated on in two months and will be able to start writing more again without using the phone to zoom in.its too hard trying to look through mist to see the screen. I managed to save enough to get work done on the van but have found out I need another $2500due to siezed injectors.On top of that my white blood cells are through the roof and the other markers show normal. so if a week of antibiotics dont being the cell count down Im to be refered to a arhaeologist for lukemia. Yet the NDIS still are saying i cant prove Impermanently disabled after 25 years of disability, or the best one is that I can stilldo things it just takes me 4 hours instead of 30minutes and two days torecover.Fuckers !
Just got out from another 12 day stay in hospital. I had spread it out to 6 weeks from 3 weeks. 2 litres of fluid in my lungs. Have been informed I have multiple organ failure. All though the kidneys have been at stage 3 for ten years. I have been placed on permanent oxygen. I dont know if Ill be continuing with the bushcraft section of the blog..I wont be spending large quantities of cash on toys to try out but might continue the smaller items.Will be selling my van, trailer and some of my knife collection.Ill be cleaning out my camping gear much of which has not been used. posts forthcoming.
Had a few chats with others in the bushcraft community. Rick J Peterson and Dan from Ochoco Bushcraft. I started this blog to show what disabled people could do if their heart was in it.I was told to do what brings contentment and joy. Im not sure I know what that is anymore.
Im a Retard Martial Artist, short answer long.
I was asked this question some time ago and its taken a while to answer.
When Im healthy, Im the type of retard that trains 4 nights a week in 6 different martial arts.
When I injured Im the type of retard that still attends training covered in bruises.
When my instructors need a hand rebuilding the dojo, Im the type of retard that packs up my tools and turns up every week until the job is done.
When Im at seminars, Im the type of retard that after training hard all weekend.Ill say I may have to sit out the punching today and lift my shirt and show my stomach and chest covered in bruises.
Im the type of retard that still shows up to sit and watch training when Im too injured to train.
Im the type of retard that even though Im nursing an injured ruptered quad tendon and reduced lung capacity will still get up off a chair to help out with partner training, when theres an odd number of students.
Im the type of retard that trains even though Im on disability.
Im the type of retard that gets home and takes endone and skulls two beers from the pain after training.
So Id say Im a Retard Martial Artist.
I like the new channel Randall.
Really Good Talk for those with PTS. There’s no “D”. I was reading through the comments and had to list a few of the good ones.
The “3 F’s”
If someone isnt feeding you, financing you, or fucking you. You really dont have to listen to anything they say.
Listen to my wife about problems and concerns.I talk to my dog about feelings.
I never talk about my problems because half dont care and the other half is happy I got them.
At 55 I only have two feelings left.its either indifference or anger with borderline alcoholism thrown in. Life is good.
Very familiar with this. when I first doing knife reviews on forums I was dragging an oxygen bottle to the local creek and beating up foliage and dead tree limbs testing out blades. Never told anyone about my health back then.
I have a lot of respect for Sara and what she passes on to people through the lessons shes learnt.
The only thing to fear is fear itself. Might be a new tattoo or Fear is the mindkiller.
Embrace the suck. Maybe this is my problem. i get damaged then do rehab. the Suffering never ends.
“Never quit on a bad day”
Is this really what people spend their entire lives working for. Ive had to move into a one bedroom flat for a while. An overpriced, lonely, empty box. A prison box for me.
I have spent 12 years of my life confined to a box while I was on an oxygen hose. Only ever leaving to walk the dog on a mobility scooter or for doctors appointments. They only supply so many bottles of oxygen a month.
Too many hospitalizations this year,my oxygen level keeps dropping to 82% with excertion.They are now putting me back on an oxygen concentrator for using the bike to try and pick back up. Ive had to place my gym membership on hold for three months and Im at the gym everyday.
I cant have a garden or a dog at this new address.I will be truely amazed if I dont cut my wrists in the first two weeks of being there. I just keep thinking all I have to do is stay here for six months,get back on my feet.
I keep watching bushwackerman and dreaming of living in a tipi.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ggZe7nC6yGo
I wrote the following letter to my head instructor
https://seratbushcraft.com/aussies-arent-so-tough/
I had two weeks to prepare my self to start training and then promptly ended up in hospital again. I crashed out in the afternoon and woke up with 80% oxygen level .I dropped the van off at a mates place. A mate I had met through AMOK. Luckily he was home ,I was going to call an ambulance when arriving. He rushed me to the hospital and stood in line for me for 15 minutes waiting for the nurses at the front counter to do anything as the line slowly increased. I was almost alseep on the chair, I couldnt wake up.All my energy spent on leaving the van some where safe. He was meant to be getting ready for a date that night.
I only have a hand full of friends,all like this and I constantly try to think of ways to pay them back for the friendship and being in my life. All I can do is buy lotto tickets every week hoping to win enough to pay off their morgages.
Yet I still go to training every fortnight I just have to sit and watch and occasionaly give hints to the beginners. This is so frustrating,I still learn. I see the patterns and come up with ways around the techniques, stratagies to overcome my limitations.
I now focus on the reply letter Tom sent me,Ill post below. The last few weeks Ive been feeling tired, not tired in my body but tired in my soul.Too many dumbarses to deal with in government departments I guess. That letter reminds me to keep fighting.It came at just the right time. The level of depression that swept over me at having to take the prison box was overwleming.
I have a new thoery about crayons. Im buying crayons and putting stickers on them saying ” Chew slowly,choking hazard.” Everytime I come across a crayon eating window licker that amazes me every time that they are capable of wiping their own backside or tying their own shoelaces. I hand them a crayon. That seems to apease them and they wander off. The crayon gives them something to chew on as they lick windows.Im assuming.
It seems more appropriate then saying walk away from me before I dislocate your neck you fuking dumbarse.
I constantly try to think of ways to control my temper.Im not good at making friends,not good at peopling. Ive always been better with animals.My dog always made friends for me. I wasnt able to raise my voice for 12 years while I had her. She had been abused so much.
Shes been gone almost three years now. I still miss her. I cant open a garbage bag loudly even now. The sound would make her run under the table and hide and shake until I crawled under there with her and hugged her till she calmed down.
I pushed my self through several levels of hell just to make sure my animals were taken care of.All that mattered was out lasting them. I still dont know what Im doing here now, that theyve gone.That wasnt the deal I made.
Back to my prsion box and my thoughts, too much time, not alone more isolated. I can barely see the computer screen from the glare as I wait for eye surgery. I have to enlarge the font to write.
Ill be writing more. The hospital will be regretting ever asking to put down my thoughts about organ transplantation.
Tom Sotis Reply Letter.Its amazing how afew words can turn your day around.
Brother Zac,
I read every word of your message — and I had to sit with it for a moment. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because I wanted to say it right.
What you’ve lived through… what you’ve fought through — it’s staggering. I don’t say this lightly: I have the deepest respect for your spirit. Your grit. Your refusal to let hardship define you. The world is full of healthy people who find excuses. But you, Zac — you found a way.
You’ve trained through pain, through surgery, through oxygen lines, walking frames, and setbacks most people wouldn’t survive, let alone fight through. You didn’t just survive it — you chose to show up. You chose to be forged by it.
That kind of courage humbles me.
I admire the way you’ve carried yourself, not with ego, but with sincerity and respect for the art and those around you. The way you speak about your training partners, your instructors, your dog, and your fight back to life — it’s a reminder of what this path is truly about. Brotherhood. Purpose. Inner fire.
You’ve earned your place in this tribe ten times over — and I’d be honored to share your words with others if it can light a fire in them like it did in me.
I know this: anyone who trains beside you trains with a warrior. You might move slower on the stairs, but there’s nothing slow about your heart.
Much respect, brother — and when you step back on the mat next week, know that I’m standing with you, even from across the world.
Your friend and brother,
AMOK!
Tom