I briefly visited this in the first “edition” of this site. Back in the day. Before it was a blog. And when I was rooting around in my hard drive, I relocated it. Bam!

“How can he declare his existence as ‘unbounded’ when he uses a wheelchair as his only means of mobility?” I can hear it now. A tad shorter in length. With a slightly more urgent tone. “What the fuck? Is he serious?”

For what it’s worth, I didn’t choose the word “unbounded.” It was a term La La used when I asked how she’d describe me upon registering the domain for this website. And plopping the “existence” on the end was the next logical step after looking up “” and seeing it was already registered. Besides I like the ring of “” So does Spags…

But seriously…

I’ve never much thought of my “potential,” specifically where I wanted to be in, say 1, 2, 5, or 10 years from now. I’ve always approached my “recovery” with the attitude “I’ll see what happens and deal with shit as I need to.”

My thinking never went too far past knowing limits (my physical limits, in particular). I’ve always done what I needed to do to get by. Or, better still, knew what I had to work on in order to accomplish what I wanted to do.

A strategy that has faired me remarkably well, thus far.

However I’m not convinced past practices will get me much further. I’m not at all saying the past 11 and a bit years were a waste, or a lost opportunity. Far from it. It took me the better part of 21 years to find myself the first time. And since my accident, this time it took roughly half that? Time needed and well spent, I’d say.

I just feel I need to start striving for grander goals. If I’ve accomplished everything I put my heart and mind into so far, why should it stop there? Why not think bigger? I’m ready to go further.

And if my latest fight isn’t proof I will accomplish most anything I try for, I truly don’t know what is.

In mid-to-late 2005 I got a Diabetes Mellitus (Type 2) diagnosis. And instead of accepting the prognosis, and bowing to expectation (using medications to control my “sugar”), I vowed to fight it. If I didn’t allow my accident to beat me, I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this “enslave” me.

Knowing my weight was most likely the culprit, I needed to get myself down to a more heathy mass. And just over 3 years later I’m happy to report life is “grand” (see what I did there?). I’ve lost most of my “extra” self and am feeling, 1000% better about myself, my health and most importantly my future.

If a wheelchair “bound” individual can alter his lifestyle and lose, I’m guessing, a good “5 stone,” all while educating myself against a great many modern medical/health myths, who is to say I couldn’t do anything else I put energy into?

After all I’m still here, annoying the shit out of people and it doesn’t appear that will change anytime soon.

Attitude and a reason to get things done were indeed all the motivation I needed to do anything. Go figure. I guess that’s what La La saw and called me on. She’s one attentive lady.

“Pulling and punching the rest of duration. No-one can piss on this determination… Buh Buh Beeda. Buh Buh Beeda. Buh Buh Beeda. Buh Buh Beeda… Uh!”