November 5, 2024

Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my present.

I’m gonna dedicate this blog to my old coach, The General.

It’s amazing to me how a person that’s only been in your life for like five years can profoundly affect our whole life. I’m talking about my coach. I’ll write about him because he just died. He was truly amazing. The guy was obsessed with running. He lived for it. The guy was pretty cool. He would open up the doors to his house and take us in for pre-season training. We’d spend about three weeks training at his house. It was pretty brutal. We’d run about 5-8 miles in the morning then 12-14 miles at night. But you know what? it got us in great shape. I’ve always used the cliché, Strong bodies, Strong mind. His training definitely got me through what I’m going through right now, and what I’ve been through at the hospital. I’ll give you an example, a small example:

When you’re running a race, you’re in a lot of pain. I mean, serious pain. You never say to yourself, “Oh man, my arms hurt, my legs hurt. This is brutal.” You never talk to yourself that way. You always say, “I feel good. I feel great.” and you stare at your opponent right at the base of their neck. You always run behind them until the last minute. Now, you can use the same strategy when you’re in the hospital. You basically say to yourself, over and over, I feel good. I feel great. And you pick one spot in the room, usually the ceiling, to stare at. As a racer you also live moment to moment. In the hospital, you live moment to moment as well. When I was training, I would always say, “Hey Coach! What’s next.” The same thing applies to the hospital. You’d always ask the nurse, “What’s next?” So basically, what I’ve learned I’ve applied to what I do now.

It’s bizarre that my friends call me and told me the General had died because I was just thinking about him about a day before he died. He used to walk into the locker room, or should I say waddle, because he walked like a penguin due to an injury, and he would hold up his finger and announce the run of the day. Everyone would moan and groan, but we’d get to it. The guy was amazing because even though he looked like Danny DeVito, he would run with us the whole way. The scariest thing was at the handkerchief he always carried in his left hand. I think the thing came from like 1929 and had never been washed. The handkerchief probably could have done a marathon all on its own. That thing should be in the Smithsonian. Anyway, he would run the whole way with us.

Bottom line is, you guys should always try and stay in shape. You never know what’s around the corner and being in good shape could save your life.

That’s it for now. I’ll share with you some images. I always look at photos I used to take, to get my mind off things. Here are some in gallery form.

Love and miss you guys. Love, B. Nice

October 1, 2024

Hi everybody. Welcome to October 1st! Can you believe it? September is gone. Crazy. Anyway, this is my blog where I talk about my present.

I told you before but I used to be a competitive runner. I was pretty good. I was an NCAA runner. I held all sorts of records. I ran a relay race with 11 other guys. We ran across the United States. Every two hours I would run two miles. The race was 24 hours a day and it lasted for two weeks. The race landed us in the Guinness Book of World Records. To this day, I still don’t know why I did this. It’s probably why my brain exploded. Actually, brain surgery was a piece of cake compared to the race across the country.

Anyway, enough of that. The point I’m making is, racing was both physically and mentally brutal, but I always knew there was a finish line. In fact, the strategy of your race was based on that finish line. Now I’m in another kind of race where I have no idea where the finish line is. That’s what makes this whole thing mentally brutal. But, I figured out how to deal with this whole brain surgery thing. It’s kind of like I used to train. You live day to day, hour by hour. Training was like this, so was the rehabilitation hospital. I’ll give you an example:

Every morning at the rehab hospital, I would wake up with a schedule taped to my wheelchair. The schedule broke the day down, hour by hour. For example, this would be my schedule:

  • Wake up at 7 am

  • 7-8 am - Shower / Bathroom

  • 8-9 am - Breakfast

  • 9-11 am - Physical Therapy

  • 11-12 pm - Gym

  • 12-1 pm - Lunch

  • 1-2 pm - Nap

  • 2-4 pm - Occupational Therapy (hands)

  • 4-5 pm - Speech Therapy

  • 5-6 pm - Dinner

  • 6 pm - Bed

  • Lights out at 8 pm

That’s pretty much how I live my life now. Except I forgot to throw in the stripper pole. Anyway, it’s pretty brutal, but you know, if you don’t put in the work, you don’t get any results.

Getting better does not just happen if you’re sitting around. You’re never gonna get better unless you work at it all the time. Hey, you know what’s kind of fun? Look back at what you used to do. Here are some photos of what I used to do. Enjoy them, because I do.

Love and miss you guys, B. Nice

August 27, 2024

Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my present.

I’d like to dedicate this blog to a friend of mine who helped me fix up a room in my house, my daughter’s room. The room looks great.

So, August 18th came and went. August 18th 2009 was the beginning of this journey I’m on. I always get nostalgic around August 18. I remember some things. Oh man, some brutal things like, when they take off the machine that’s breathing for you. Trying to take your first breath is scary. There’s nothing like the doctors putting a feeding tube through your nose and into your stomach. I would panic when they would roll me over to give me a sponge bath. I would panic because I couldn’t move at all. I was afraid I would suffocate. At one point, I truly believed I was being suspended from the ceiling like a bat. I thought, “What on Earth are they suspending me fro the ceiling for?” It was all so surreal. Either and/or the drugs were kicking in.

Anyway, the list goes on and on. Basically, it’s been a tough journey. But it’s also been cool. I mean, the way I see is like no one sees. The best way I can describe it is, I feel like I’m looking though a kaleidoscope or like I’m in a Picasso painting.

On another note, ironically, my cousin is here. He’s here for a visit. He was here at the beginning of my journey. I’ve been lucky enough to have plenty of people help me. My friend here still helps me. It’s importent to have friends and family around you when you’re like this.

As long as someone held my hand, I felt OK. You literally live one minute to the next. It’s crazy. And also, I could hear everything, but I couldn’t move. I was basically trapped in my own body. I remember thinking, “Man! Don’t pull that plug!” Although, my friend here says, and I agree, Mom would never have let them pull the plug.

That’s it for this week. I’m gonna share with you some images I’ve picked out from when I was normal.

August 20, 2024

Hi everybody. Welcome to my blog where I talk about my present.

When one has a traumatic brain injury, like myself, you have to keep your mind off your condition. You can get really bummed out, and the way you are can get to you. I keep in mind what I used to do. I used to be a photographer. I mean, I still am a photographer. I just photograph in a different way. But back in the day I used to carry a camera with me all the time. Everywhere. I mean, even when I got married, both times, I carried my camera both times, down the aisle. The whole nine yards. Maybe that’s why my marriages didn’t work out. Sorry I went off on a bit of a tangent there. But I always carried a camera with me, everywhere. I always had about 5 projects I would be working on. For example, one was about airplane travel. Another one was about landscapes. Another story was about pointing. I would always keep an eye open to contribute to each story. I’m gonna include some examples of what I did. Now there’s only a few because my project was cut short by something called a traumatic brain injury.

Love and miss you guys. Check out the images. Love, B. Nice