Kevin's Property, And A Second Birthday...

You poor things...I'm almost done. In fact, this should be it. Thanks for hanging in there! Unless you didn't. Then, THANKS FOR NOTHIN', MOM!! dang...

And for those of you who missed the first, second and third installments of this over-dramatic saga, well, there they are. I won't blame you if you choose to give the neighbor's cat a bath instead.

So, I went on a heavy chelator to rid my body of the excess copper that was literally destroying me. I was almost as frightened by the longterm side effects of the medication as I was of the condition.

Unfortunately, I was probably on the medication a year longer than I should've been. That was a lapse in judgment on the doctor's part. And when I questioned him about it, he was incredulous about my curiosity. Now, there's a surprise...

So, I found a new doctor. And he had his shizz together. And between the two of us, we sent those no-good-copper-chumps packing, without killing me in the process.

I have since managed the condition with zinc. I'm suppose to take 50mg of Zinc 30 minutes before every meal. And avoid foods that are high in copper. (Are you asleep yet?)

And I did that. For a looonnnngggg time. And then I got lazy.

I was still taking the zinc, but I was taking it WITH my meals. (You're sleeping, aren't you!!) And it didn't have enough time to absorb into my system to bind with the pending copper and flush it out my ass...or my peep...or in my boogers...or wherever the hell it goes flying out of.

And...living so close to wine country (look at me making excuses, like it's Santa Barbara's fault), a glass of wine here and there, turned into a glass of wine here and there and everywhere.

So, yeah. I got lazy and foolish and drunk.

A few days before Christmas, my doctor called...persistently. Which he never does, so I became concerned. I put down my drink and called him back. He said that my liver enzymes were 3 times the normal limits as were my copper levels. And he was concerned.

I snatched up my martini, swigged it down, bit the olive off the toothpick, threw the pathetic, vacant glass into the fireplace, and said, "Ohh, REEAALLLY!? Well, I'll be damned..."

It was humbling and a little depressing to hear right before the holidays. But, then again, it was a good thing to hear of it before I continued to do more damage...which was certainly the original plan.

WOOOOO--HOOOOOO!!! PARRRTAYYYY!! WOOOO!

Wasn't happening, damn it.

But, something else happened.

I was re-introduced to the pleasures of sniffing glue.

NOOOO!!! I'M JUST JOSHIN'!!

Okay, for real now. Something else happened...

I went back to dropping acid.

NNOOOOO!!! I'M KIDDING!!!

Okay, for real real...Something else happened...

I had tons and tons of anonymous sex and it was awesome. Will took pictures.

NNOOOOO!!! I'M JOSHIN' AGAIN!!! AAAHHHHH!!!!

Okay, okay, I MEAN it this time! I'M SERIOUS!! I quit, I promise.

Something else happened...

I was reminded of a few things. Over this past month of contemplation, I have gradually been taken back to a time 9 years ago, shortly after my diagnosis.

After I began to feel better from the chelation therapy all those years ago, I realized how truly terrible I had been feeling. It was as though I had forgotten how good it felt to not feel pain.

And when the dust started to settle and the smoke began to clear, I realized what a gift the Wilson's disease was to me.

It WAS a gift.

I was better because and in-spite of it. And I was extremely lucky that it hadn't been worse.

It slapped my mortal ass and even pulled my hair a little. But, it made it glaringly apparent just what was important. And more crucially, what wasn't. And when I contemplated what wasn't important...Well, that list was pretty long.

So, I've been reminded of those things.

And appropriately, I write of them today, on my 39th Birthday. I felt re-born in a way after recovering from the initial diagnosis of the Wilson's. And I feel that way now. A second Birthday on my 39th.

As messy as life is, far more so than I ever really knew, it's still beautiful.

I bought one of these the other day,


an exquisite violin.


Years ago, I played the violin, the cello and the piano.


And I have since let them all go. But, I'm going to remedy that.

I forget who said it, but art, whether it be music, literature or poetry, paintings, or sketches or sculptures or gardens, makes the unbearable, bearable.

And I cling to that.

There's also a quote from Sir Edward Burne-Jones that I love when he talked of art. He said, "I mean by a picture a beautiful romantic dream, of something that never was, never will be - in light better than any light that ever shone - in a land no one can define, or remember, only desire..."

I'd like to share with you some of my favorites that the brilliant artist William Bezek (my Bubba) has painted;


"Trio - Self Portrait" (Oil on canvas) He's the hottie on the far right.




"Dreaming of Venus" (Oil on canvas)




"Sugar Hiccup" (Oil on canvas, 66 x 44)


And correspondingly with how I feel today,


"Salvation" (Oil on canvas, 42 x 68)


And now, some art for your ears...



W.A. Mozart - Requiem




Maria Callas - "O Mio Babbino Caro"


So, besides celebrating my 39th Birthday today, I'm going to celebrate my 2nd as well. I want to remember how incredibly resplendent it all is. And to be grateful for it. And to inform the next 39 years, that I'm going to kick them square in their ass.

When I first began telling you about this whole thing, I titled it "The Wilson's Property" alluding to myself. But, now I believe that it's quite the contrary. It's the other way around. I don't belong to it...

It belongs to me.