Post by anthonyksavage on Feb 26, 2022 23:37:33 GMT -5
“Common long-term effects of sepsis include; promoted organ and tissue failure, nerve damage, psychological shock, significant loss of weight, and heightened swings in mood. Longer-term evaluation is often required for survivors of severe blood poisoning.”
“I’ve been eating like a goddamn horse since I got out of the hospital,and I still can’t keep on any weight. Shit, I think I lost a couple more pounds.”
Tony always hated February. For him, the second month was the worst because it seems everything bad liked to happen then. He calls it “Wack History Month”! Feb. 2022 was just another episode in that fabled shit show.
Weeks ago, sepsis ravaged Tony. He was hospitalized for nearly 2 weeks due to infection,and it wasn’t pretty nor comfortable. He’d lost over 20 lbs and was constantly fatigued. His workout sessions were less than his usual standards;Tony found himself putting in less hours and stopping for breaks more often. He consumed more calories than normal, and couldn’t keep an ounce on him.He looked a bit drawn and thinner and still had a pale tint to his skin despite a few days of soaking up warm Mediterranean sun. It was the shakes and the mood swings, though, that really caused him the greatest concern.
His neurologist didn’t look away from his computer as Tony talked, typing notes and cross-referencing prior cases online. The doctor stopped typing, rubbing his chin. “Any sensitivity in your senses: smells, sounds or colors that come across as too stimulating?”
“Not really, but…”
“What,Tony?”
“Well…being around people, interacting with them’s become really…bothersome!”
He had difficulties explaining what the problem was exactly: “Too many people get talking, or music starts getting too loud, I’m rattled.It’s like sensory overload. And anymore, if anybody’s the slightest bit moody to me, I’m ripping people’s head’s off. Half the time, I don’t want to be around folks at all.”
“It’s got Cass worried. Since I’ve been out, we’ve been snippy with each other from time to time. Don’t talk as much as usual.”
“Not surprising.” The doctor rolled his tools over. “Major illnesses exert stress on everyone involved. You’re both trying to adjust to normal routines after that level of disruption.it’s been a few months since your last visit. Let’s check those reflexes.”
The next thirty minutes consisted of Tony in a hospital gown getting lights shone directly into his eyeballs. Flexing and grabbing objects. Being prodded and poked and pinged to observe the reactions. Or, lack of them. Dr. Fletcher was good at hiding worry; these weren’t by far the worst test results he’d seen by far, but for Tony, they weren’t so hot. Tony’s gotten to know the doc long enough to read the tells behind his calm poker face. If he delivered good news, he kept his glasses on. If it was bad, he put the them away and looked at you eye to eye. If it was not great, not terrible, he took them off for a few moments, tapped them on his desk or computer screen, then put them back on.
The Doctor knocked them on his keyboard a few times before they were promptly put on.
“It’s still early to tell exactly what’s going on, but, you are showing some signs of neurological impairment.”
Tony gulped. Any time somebody in combat sports hears their name and “nerve damage” in the same sentence, butt cheeks tend to clench up. Everybody in the sport has a concern about disorders like Parkinson’s, CTE, dementia. Tony on occasion suffered crippling migraines, as well as loss of feelings and numbness in his fingertips. It wasn’t just a concern for his career; he’d seen plenty of fighters and wrestlers in their advancing years wrecked and hampered by impaired mobility and judgement. It shook him; he didn’t want to end up like that.
“Christ…”
“Again, impairment, not damage” Fletch reassured his patient. “With septic shock, your body has to take time to recover from that. Frankly, I wish you’d take more time off, but…”
“Yeah, gotta fulfill obligations and shit…”Tony was cleared, but he wasn’t 100%, and wasn’t going to be for Monday.The Chaos champ had NO incentive to lie he was not defending that belt with a boat anchor around his neck.
“It could be temporary side effects of your illness, or, this could be a precursor to a more chronic problem.Your reaction times and responses to certain stimuli were noticeably off from prior visits. Slower, muted, and I did notice that shaking. That we need to keep an eye on. If it intensifies, inform me immediately, I don’t care what time of day it is.”
“Dave,” Tony was alarmed. “Something you’re not telling me?”
“We’re going to have to run full blood and tissue work on our end.It’ll take a few hours to collect samples, and at least a week to conduct analysis. Also, I already have the results of the MRI’s and CAT scans from Northwestern,but I’d like to get my own tests in, something to cross-reference. Make sure to schedule additional scans right after the match and several days afterwards. I could be too cautious, but I’m not taking any chances. Thankfully, your symptoms are very low grade, which again, can be contributed to your illness. But if it’s more serious, we’ve caught it early.”
“Only thing we can do now is observe, and wait for the results.”
“Shit, like you needed to hear that right now.”
Once you get out of Vegas, you enjoy some of the clearest night skies on Earth.Although the Mojave in Late February is chilly at night, usually a good coat and warm fire makes things more enjoyable. Tony needed to get out of Vegas, away from the bustle, the noise….the people.His dad Nathan also touched down to visit his boy, but the stop was not a joyous one. After days of delays and infighting, the board of stockholders at Savage Solutions voted on an issue Tony was fanatically opposed to. He lost, and Dad personally delivered the depressing message.
Good thing about the desert ;nobody notices you yelling and screaming like a nutter out in the middle of fucking nowhere. Nathan sat by the bonfire they stoked drinking his Shiner beer, listening quietly as his youngest pup verbally and emotionally unloaded all ammunition for hours. Dad just sympathetically listened to son gripe and vent.
“Never mind that; what was the vote margin by?”
“60% to 40%; your brothers and Uncle Wayne turned the voted in favor of Jody’s deal?”
“You’re shitting me….fuck.” Tony wanted a beer so bad right now, and who could blame him? But, he stuck the course and kept dry, staying with coffee and rubbing his hands near the fire. “*pfft* shouldn’t be surprised. No wonder they didn’t come to visit me, or hardly kept in touch while I was out. They were plotting that vote from the start. Fuck!”
Sparks danced mid-air when Tony tossed another stick in the blaze.
“Looks like it, kiddo. I didn’t even know about it until Friday. They’re going through with the Saudi deal. For them, it was just too much money to walk away from.”
Looks like Tony will NOT be entertaining his siblings for holidays anytime soon. Somebody will fuck around and get their nose broke for taking too many yams at the dinner table.
“And we can’t get a do-over vote because of the margin of victory. I’m fucked!”
“Yup, Tony, the rest of us in your camp have 2 options now; toe the line for Jody, or cash out and don’t let the door hit us on the ass on the way out.”
Jody played this out perfectly; make his big moves while Tony was sidelined, appeal to the greedier natures of his brothers, and do it in a manner where Tony had little to work with to counter. He had to give it up to scheming ass uncle; it was a masterstroke.
“Next play’s up to you, son. If you want to get out, I’ll be behind you.”
“You sure about that, dad? You’ve been involved in the business since you left Vietnam…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Nate waives his beer around dismissively. “But you were right; we could’ve gone a better direction, but they chose the money. I’m too fucking old to deal with that shit anymore; if Jody wants to get into bed with clients like that, he can do it alone. I want my last years in my life to be like your last in that sport; the business was done right.”
Military contracting, like wrestling, isn’t the most wholesome way to earn your dinner money.Whether sneaking a low blow in, or making a deal with people that don’t align with your moral compass, when your primary commodity is violence, it spreads into everything you do and are. Both father and son were worn out from years of making money off conflict,and both were ready to ease into life away from it, after they finished a few things.
“Say,” Nate puts down his beer and stands next to his boy. “How would you feel about me moving to that island you and my daughter in law call home?”
Tony, who was admittedly mesmerized by the dancing flames, looked at his pops with wide eyes. “Wait, you, in Britain?”
“Why not? And no, I don’t need a place to stay. Found a one-bedroom apartment in the area, they even offer maid and cooking services.”
“What about he house in Buckhead, dad?”
“That place is getting too big and impractical for a clumsy old drunk guy that lives alone. And I don’t feel like being in the same postal code as your asshole brothers or uncle right now. Plus, I wanna be around my youngest gran’kid and spoil his rowdy little ass more often. Cass could use the company since you’re going back to long tour schedules. You need the help, you really do.”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, getting to that point again where I’m stretched all over the place.”
“Always been a problem of yours, not trusting folks to help shoulder weight. You’ve got a whole damn team behind you, use them. Regardless of what happens, from now on, you’ll need us behind you until the finish.”
The old man was right, Tony thought. I can’t handle all this shit solo anymore, and Cass isn’t prepared to do everything I need, especially with her career taking off. I’m killing myself physically and pulling my focus away from what I need to do. The last time he was in a UGWC ring, all it took was a few seconds with his eyes off the road, and he fed himself an L he didn’t need to eat. Most of his issues in the company, blemishes on an otherwise outstanding run, smeared on his resume by his own hands. Right now, he couldn’t afford to make any more major errors. He was already physically and mentally weakened, his training routine was hampered, and his personal life was getting messy again. Any assistance would be appreciated, even if it came with shit talking like THIS!
“So, boy, gonna blame your fever for that dumb fuckery against Rydell, or was that just you being your usual simple self again?”
*rolls his eyes* “Don’t even, old man.” Tony shoves Nate in the arm, spilling some of dad’s brew. “I know how you got yourself divorced from mom; that level of stupid’s genetically inherited.”
They talked shit, dad got drunk and son had to Uber him out of the desert. A bad day turned out to be a blessing in disguise. He could be losing his belt, maybe his career and company soon. But the people that mattered came out when he needed them. Seb and Sloane dropped everything to help Robbie out, those that stood in his corner where present when he got knocked down. Loyalty like that cushions the blows the storm of shit new was pounding on him.
Tony couldn’t escape or conceal he had a problem this week. The champ was the slight underdog for a reason. This was the first match since signing with the company where the vibe was truly he might not make it through this time. There wasn’t much in the way of options beside get in front of it. He had people behind him ready to brace him for the impact.
“Being a champion means recognizing some of the problems wearing a belt presents. You wear a crown on your head long enough, you start thinking it’s a bulletproof vest. The longer you hold a belt, the more comfortable you start getting. Every day and every win it’s on you, you start thinking “maybe I AM as good as I tell people.” Complacency starts becoming a problem that creeps in your life. This ten pound chunk of gold and leather,” Tony holds up the Chaos championship “comes with as many perks as it does with problems.”
“I’ve been the Chaos Champion for 5 months now, and that’s no easy feat for a division where everything gets wild. 5 months of a very hot spotlight on you, and everybody who shares it with you beats the ever loving shit out of you regardless if the belt is on the line or not. They see that crown on me, and the axes come out. You take beatings from other sources as well. You slip, people criticize left and right. Fans get disappointed and enemies get hungry. That target on your back starts giving your spine issues.”
“It’s an even bigger problem when you think everything’s okay, until it’s not.”
“Life the last few weeks has been shit the last few weeks. Nothing else can be said about it. One constant clusterfuck after another to deal with. I could lie and say it doesn’t distract me from the goal this week, but, that’s horseshit. I’m tired, I’m stressed, I’m still trying to figure out why didn’t I just MAKE THE FUCKING PIN instead of going after Centurion!? Still slap myself for that shit.”
“That mistake alone has people doubting I can retain against Rydell. “You’re too sloppy right now you’re too weak…”
“Normally, I’d break out the bullet points to kill those critiques. But, I have no bullets right now. This last month, I’ve done a lot to earn people’s doubts this time.”
“It just wouldn’t do any of us justice to come out and do my usual song and dance about breaking somebody down like a box when I’m not even sure I can. Sounds defeatists, I know, but…”
“It’s really not when you accept it and find another way to get it done.”
He looks at his belt again around his waist. “This belt is a burden, but a glorious one. It helped put my name back on the map. Keeps my focus strong. Reminds me this is what the sport is all about, getting to the state where your work gets rewarded with gold. Everything else is just side conjecture. You hold that gold, you accept that burden.”
“I don’t mind carrying that burden; I don’t have that long of a window left to be able to. So, every day that belt stays on me, that validates the effort and the pain that carrying this thing brings worth it. I spent my time wisely.”
Sometimes, it’s only the want that gives you the advantage. I’m not giving this belt up to anybody under any circumstances. Not to Dave, Seb, Monty…to anybody without a certain grade of Hell to go through to get it.”
“I’ve built a pretty good relationship with this belt. It’s turned into something long term.Who knows, I might see if she’ll stick around until the end.”
“All I have this week is the desire to be the champion this belt deserves. And if it can get me over the hump…”
“It’ll prove once and for all no matter the conditions, I’m still the guy that gets it done when it really matters.”
“I’ve been eating like a goddamn horse since I got out of the hospital,and I still can’t keep on any weight. Shit, I think I lost a couple more pounds.”
Tony always hated February. For him, the second month was the worst because it seems everything bad liked to happen then. He calls it “Wack History Month”! Feb. 2022 was just another episode in that fabled shit show.
Weeks ago, sepsis ravaged Tony. He was hospitalized for nearly 2 weeks due to infection,and it wasn’t pretty nor comfortable. He’d lost over 20 lbs and was constantly fatigued. His workout sessions were less than his usual standards;Tony found himself putting in less hours and stopping for breaks more often. He consumed more calories than normal, and couldn’t keep an ounce on him.He looked a bit drawn and thinner and still had a pale tint to his skin despite a few days of soaking up warm Mediterranean sun. It was the shakes and the mood swings, though, that really caused him the greatest concern.
His neurologist didn’t look away from his computer as Tony talked, typing notes and cross-referencing prior cases online. The doctor stopped typing, rubbing his chin. “Any sensitivity in your senses: smells, sounds or colors that come across as too stimulating?”
“Not really, but…”
“What,Tony?”
“Well…being around people, interacting with them’s become really…bothersome!”
He had difficulties explaining what the problem was exactly: “Too many people get talking, or music starts getting too loud, I’m rattled.It’s like sensory overload. And anymore, if anybody’s the slightest bit moody to me, I’m ripping people’s head’s off. Half the time, I don’t want to be around folks at all.”
“It’s got Cass worried. Since I’ve been out, we’ve been snippy with each other from time to time. Don’t talk as much as usual.”
“Not surprising.” The doctor rolled his tools over. “Major illnesses exert stress on everyone involved. You’re both trying to adjust to normal routines after that level of disruption.it’s been a few months since your last visit. Let’s check those reflexes.”
The next thirty minutes consisted of Tony in a hospital gown getting lights shone directly into his eyeballs. Flexing and grabbing objects. Being prodded and poked and pinged to observe the reactions. Or, lack of them. Dr. Fletcher was good at hiding worry; these weren’t by far the worst test results he’d seen by far, but for Tony, they weren’t so hot. Tony’s gotten to know the doc long enough to read the tells behind his calm poker face. If he delivered good news, he kept his glasses on. If it was bad, he put the them away and looked at you eye to eye. If it was not great, not terrible, he took them off for a few moments, tapped them on his desk or computer screen, then put them back on.
The Doctor knocked them on his keyboard a few times before they were promptly put on.
“It’s still early to tell exactly what’s going on, but, you are showing some signs of neurological impairment.”
Tony gulped. Any time somebody in combat sports hears their name and “nerve damage” in the same sentence, butt cheeks tend to clench up. Everybody in the sport has a concern about disorders like Parkinson’s, CTE, dementia. Tony on occasion suffered crippling migraines, as well as loss of feelings and numbness in his fingertips. It wasn’t just a concern for his career; he’d seen plenty of fighters and wrestlers in their advancing years wrecked and hampered by impaired mobility and judgement. It shook him; he didn’t want to end up like that.
“Christ…”
“Again, impairment, not damage” Fletch reassured his patient. “With septic shock, your body has to take time to recover from that. Frankly, I wish you’d take more time off, but…”
“Yeah, gotta fulfill obligations and shit…”Tony was cleared, but he wasn’t 100%, and wasn’t going to be for Monday.The Chaos champ had NO incentive to lie he was not defending that belt with a boat anchor around his neck.
“It could be temporary side effects of your illness, or, this could be a precursor to a more chronic problem.Your reaction times and responses to certain stimuli were noticeably off from prior visits. Slower, muted, and I did notice that shaking. That we need to keep an eye on. If it intensifies, inform me immediately, I don’t care what time of day it is.”
“Dave,” Tony was alarmed. “Something you’re not telling me?”
“We’re going to have to run full blood and tissue work on our end.It’ll take a few hours to collect samples, and at least a week to conduct analysis. Also, I already have the results of the MRI’s and CAT scans from Northwestern,but I’d like to get my own tests in, something to cross-reference. Make sure to schedule additional scans right after the match and several days afterwards. I could be too cautious, but I’m not taking any chances. Thankfully, your symptoms are very low grade, which again, can be contributed to your illness. But if it’s more serious, we’ve caught it early.”
“Only thing we can do now is observe, and wait for the results.”
“Shit, like you needed to hear that right now.”
Once you get out of Vegas, you enjoy some of the clearest night skies on Earth.Although the Mojave in Late February is chilly at night, usually a good coat and warm fire makes things more enjoyable. Tony needed to get out of Vegas, away from the bustle, the noise….the people.His dad Nathan also touched down to visit his boy, but the stop was not a joyous one. After days of delays and infighting, the board of stockholders at Savage Solutions voted on an issue Tony was fanatically opposed to. He lost, and Dad personally delivered the depressing message.
Good thing about the desert ;nobody notices you yelling and screaming like a nutter out in the middle of fucking nowhere. Nathan sat by the bonfire they stoked drinking his Shiner beer, listening quietly as his youngest pup verbally and emotionally unloaded all ammunition for hours. Dad just sympathetically listened to son gripe and vent.
“Never mind that; what was the vote margin by?”
“60% to 40%; your brothers and Uncle Wayne turned the voted in favor of Jody’s deal?”
“You’re shitting me….fuck.” Tony wanted a beer so bad right now, and who could blame him? But, he stuck the course and kept dry, staying with coffee and rubbing his hands near the fire. “*pfft* shouldn’t be surprised. No wonder they didn’t come to visit me, or hardly kept in touch while I was out. They were plotting that vote from the start. Fuck!”
Sparks danced mid-air when Tony tossed another stick in the blaze.
“Looks like it, kiddo. I didn’t even know about it until Friday. They’re going through with the Saudi deal. For them, it was just too much money to walk away from.”
Looks like Tony will NOT be entertaining his siblings for holidays anytime soon. Somebody will fuck around and get their nose broke for taking too many yams at the dinner table.
“And we can’t get a do-over vote because of the margin of victory. I’m fucked!”
“Yup, Tony, the rest of us in your camp have 2 options now; toe the line for Jody, or cash out and don’t let the door hit us on the ass on the way out.”
Jody played this out perfectly; make his big moves while Tony was sidelined, appeal to the greedier natures of his brothers, and do it in a manner where Tony had little to work with to counter. He had to give it up to scheming ass uncle; it was a masterstroke.
“Next play’s up to you, son. If you want to get out, I’ll be behind you.”
“You sure about that, dad? You’ve been involved in the business since you left Vietnam…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know!” Nate waives his beer around dismissively. “But you were right; we could’ve gone a better direction, but they chose the money. I’m too fucking old to deal with that shit anymore; if Jody wants to get into bed with clients like that, he can do it alone. I want my last years in my life to be like your last in that sport; the business was done right.”
Military contracting, like wrestling, isn’t the most wholesome way to earn your dinner money.Whether sneaking a low blow in, or making a deal with people that don’t align with your moral compass, when your primary commodity is violence, it spreads into everything you do and are. Both father and son were worn out from years of making money off conflict,and both were ready to ease into life away from it, after they finished a few things.
“Say,” Nate puts down his beer and stands next to his boy. “How would you feel about me moving to that island you and my daughter in law call home?”
Tony, who was admittedly mesmerized by the dancing flames, looked at his pops with wide eyes. “Wait, you, in Britain?”
“Why not? And no, I don’t need a place to stay. Found a one-bedroom apartment in the area, they even offer maid and cooking services.”
“What about he house in Buckhead, dad?”
“That place is getting too big and impractical for a clumsy old drunk guy that lives alone. And I don’t feel like being in the same postal code as your asshole brothers or uncle right now. Plus, I wanna be around my youngest gran’kid and spoil his rowdy little ass more often. Cass could use the company since you’re going back to long tour schedules. You need the help, you really do.”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, getting to that point again where I’m stretched all over the place.”
“Always been a problem of yours, not trusting folks to help shoulder weight. You’ve got a whole damn team behind you, use them. Regardless of what happens, from now on, you’ll need us behind you until the finish.”
The old man was right, Tony thought. I can’t handle all this shit solo anymore, and Cass isn’t prepared to do everything I need, especially with her career taking off. I’m killing myself physically and pulling my focus away from what I need to do. The last time he was in a UGWC ring, all it took was a few seconds with his eyes off the road, and he fed himself an L he didn’t need to eat. Most of his issues in the company, blemishes on an otherwise outstanding run, smeared on his resume by his own hands. Right now, he couldn’t afford to make any more major errors. He was already physically and mentally weakened, his training routine was hampered, and his personal life was getting messy again. Any assistance would be appreciated, even if it came with shit talking like THIS!
“So, boy, gonna blame your fever for that dumb fuckery against Rydell, or was that just you being your usual simple self again?”
*rolls his eyes* “Don’t even, old man.” Tony shoves Nate in the arm, spilling some of dad’s brew. “I know how you got yourself divorced from mom; that level of stupid’s genetically inherited.”
They talked shit, dad got drunk and son had to Uber him out of the desert. A bad day turned out to be a blessing in disguise. He could be losing his belt, maybe his career and company soon. But the people that mattered came out when he needed them. Seb and Sloane dropped everything to help Robbie out, those that stood in his corner where present when he got knocked down. Loyalty like that cushions the blows the storm of shit new was pounding on him.
Tony couldn’t escape or conceal he had a problem this week. The champ was the slight underdog for a reason. This was the first match since signing with the company where the vibe was truly he might not make it through this time. There wasn’t much in the way of options beside get in front of it. He had people behind him ready to brace him for the impact.
“Being a champion means recognizing some of the problems wearing a belt presents. You wear a crown on your head long enough, you start thinking it’s a bulletproof vest. The longer you hold a belt, the more comfortable you start getting. Every day and every win it’s on you, you start thinking “maybe I AM as good as I tell people.” Complacency starts becoming a problem that creeps in your life. This ten pound chunk of gold and leather,” Tony holds up the Chaos championship “comes with as many perks as it does with problems.”
“I’ve been the Chaos Champion for 5 months now, and that’s no easy feat for a division where everything gets wild. 5 months of a very hot spotlight on you, and everybody who shares it with you beats the ever loving shit out of you regardless if the belt is on the line or not. They see that crown on me, and the axes come out. You take beatings from other sources as well. You slip, people criticize left and right. Fans get disappointed and enemies get hungry. That target on your back starts giving your spine issues.”
“It’s an even bigger problem when you think everything’s okay, until it’s not.”
“Life the last few weeks has been shit the last few weeks. Nothing else can be said about it. One constant clusterfuck after another to deal with. I could lie and say it doesn’t distract me from the goal this week, but, that’s horseshit. I’m tired, I’m stressed, I’m still trying to figure out why didn’t I just MAKE THE FUCKING PIN instead of going after Centurion!? Still slap myself for that shit.”
“That mistake alone has people doubting I can retain against Rydell. “You’re too sloppy right now you’re too weak…”
“Normally, I’d break out the bullet points to kill those critiques. But, I have no bullets right now. This last month, I’ve done a lot to earn people’s doubts this time.”
“It just wouldn’t do any of us justice to come out and do my usual song and dance about breaking somebody down like a box when I’m not even sure I can. Sounds defeatists, I know, but…”
“It’s really not when you accept it and find another way to get it done.”
He looks at his belt again around his waist. “This belt is a burden, but a glorious one. It helped put my name back on the map. Keeps my focus strong. Reminds me this is what the sport is all about, getting to the state where your work gets rewarded with gold. Everything else is just side conjecture. You hold that gold, you accept that burden.”
“I don’t mind carrying that burden; I don’t have that long of a window left to be able to. So, every day that belt stays on me, that validates the effort and the pain that carrying this thing brings worth it. I spent my time wisely.”
Sometimes, it’s only the want that gives you the advantage. I’m not giving this belt up to anybody under any circumstances. Not to Dave, Seb, Monty…to anybody without a certain grade of Hell to go through to get it.”
“I’ve built a pretty good relationship with this belt. It’s turned into something long term.Who knows, I might see if she’ll stick around until the end.”
“All I have this week is the desire to be the champion this belt deserves. And if it can get me over the hump…”
“It’ll prove once and for all no matter the conditions, I’m still the guy that gets it done when it really matters.”