Written by Brian Xu
My name is John. I was born in New York. I have two older brothers and 2 younger sisters. I love them all. My childhood was fine. My family moved to Pennsylvania when I was about 4 and I have lived there pretty much ever since then. Growing up, I went to catholic school for two years, but later I didn’t want to go to school anymore, so I dropped out, and joined the army. It was the only branch accepting 17-year-old dropouts.
After joining the army, I went through basic training as an armor crewman for a tanker. I spent 4 years in the army but didn’t fight in any wars. I wasn't scared to be put in an actual war cause I was young during that period. But they just never put me in one.
We didn't do much at the time. We just stared at the Russians and they stared back at us. That was all. A couple times, we got fired up. When the Iranians took over our embassy, we said, we’re going to kick their ass. But we did nothing, we’re still doing nothing. One time they blew up the marine barriers and killed a bunch of marines who were sleeping. But we still did nothing. It’s politics. We got fired up, we thought we would do something, but we did nothing. Reagan was a war monger, but he did nothing.
But I really liked being in the army. I liked playing army, especially our war games. We fired tanks at targets and tried to beat other teams. We had cool equipment on the tanks. Lasers. They would put targets on each person and vehicle. When we got hit, it would start beeping.
Eventually I got out of the army, came home, and went back to work. When people get out of the military, most of them feel it’s hard to adjust. But all I wanted to do was to get a job, maybe drive a forklift. If I hit stuff, fire me. It’s easy enough. I bounced around, doing warehouse work, fixing lighting, and working at a sock shipping company. I made conduit and armored cable for a while in a cellphone accessory warehouse. Then I worked 17 years in a drug packaging plant. But in the end, I lost my job and became unemployed. Now I’m here in the hospital. I got a mass, in my small intestine, looming right after the stomach. This is my third stay here.
I got some enlightenment for people, especially for the younger folks. What is the value of life? Well, it depends on who's life. If it’s a single parent taking care of 3 kids, that’s pretty valuable, isn't it? If you’re just some jerk who is not helping anybody, that’s worth nothing.
Another important thing I want people to know is that we need to get rid of all this plastic we keep throwing everywhere. That may be what’s getting everybody sick. It’s in everything, it’s in the milk right now. When TVs used to break when I was a kid, you had to get it fixed. Now, it’s cheaper to just buy a new one and toss the old. At present, there are no methods to better the situation. What are we going to do, stop plastics? Put everybody out of work? I think scientists are looking to alternatives. Biodegradable products maybe, as long as it works.
My hospitals service is fine. Every day, I meet a new doctor and they say they are on my team. I can't even remember their name; I just recognize their face. I just met two new ones yesterday. I haven’t seen my psychiatrist in years, but he still calls me at home. If he doesn't hear from me, he says, what’s going on? I tell him, I’m okay. I’m bipolar with depression. Everybody thinks bipolar means I’m going to start screaming at them. But it’s not. Sometimes it works to your benefit. You work hard, sometimes you talk too fast, but you’re working. You get the job done. And your hands just keep moving.
I hope they can do something to help me recover. It depends what they do. I could be on feeding tubes, colostomy bags for the rest of my life with what I have. I might die. Who knows? Maybe then I won’t have to worry about it. But that can't happen. I plan on leaving here. I plan on running around doing job interviews. I plan on getting social security. So, I don't know. I guess it all depends on the outcome.
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