PRAISE FOR THE WISE

BLESSED ARE THE WISE AT HEART,

FOR THEIRS WILL BE SAVED,

BY THE HAND OF THE LORD

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.

There comes a time in a person’s life when he or she wants to share their stories or problems with others so that they can reach out to other individuals before we realize that that time we wish to have runs out, and there is nobody else capable of telling these lifelong stories but themselves. These are the more then major things that have happened to me, but I did not know yet when or how to share them due to the intensity of some of them. (Please be aware though that these stories are not all, so to say, peachy, as they are down to earth)!

There are reasons of why I am alive today, why I can share the knowledge that I have about my serious conditions with you. My life has been a battle of ups and downs, struggles and sacrifices, schools, bullies, sports teams, you name it. But, my mentality has never escaped me as is; I WANT TO AND CHOOSE TO DO BETTER, WORK HARDER SO THAT THE TIME WILL COME WHEN I CAN HELP ANOTHER LIVING SOUL IN NEED!

Blessed are they who mourn,

for they will be comforted.

I have been pushed to my limits many times repeatedly and have not succumbed to them, all of them, along with some of the amazements that even my own doctors didn’t see coming. From absence (Petit Mal) seizures to generalized Tonic-Clonic (Grand Mal) seizures to almost being killed on a bicycle over a street divider thrown into on-coming cars and only breaking my left collateral (collar bone) when I was thirty riding to see my future wife.

Blessed are the meek,

for they will inherit the land.

This was the my first and only bone ever to be broken, and I remember these things like it was yesterday. I opened my eyes laying there on the ground, my front wheel bent, not spinning, with five cars around me. About ten Good Samaritans, almost all of them said that they had family members with the same problems (once I told them) helping me up calling for an ambulance. But they could see that there was a problem, something wrong with myself, a normal pedestrian. All I wanted was to do was rise like I always did and say thank you for the help! They said to stay down, your hurt, and we already called for help. My biking helmet still on, secure, but that was the very last time I road my $1,400 Specialized mountain bicycle, or anything on wheels ever again. I never wanted to see a bike, especially that bike, from the memory of almost being killed. But my brother Michael wanted to fix it for himself, so I let him have it, although it mostly just stayed put in the garage where he left it.  

Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

for they will be satisfied.

At 29yrs of age, a broken collateral can be healed on its own, depending on the damage done, but at 30, it’s a nice steel bar with 9 long screws, 6 down and 3 across, which still hurts to this day, and will forever. Any pressure placed on it, mostly by Michelle’s arm being thrown over or across my head for a simple hug is too much. I already had a VNS in my left pictorial wired to my throat, which is a piece of metal that can never be removed. When I left that hospital, I felt more and more like Robocop, as I joked about with my friends. I was alive because I was smart, if I had not of been wearing my helmet, I would have fractured my head, face and jaw. Let’s just say that I would have died! But God knows that I am far smarter than the ones you see on the road today, riding bareheaded! 

Blessed are the merciful,

for they will be shown mercy.

And then the Grander of my falls which sealed the deal of me being watched 24/7/365, and to date:

The LIRR Train Track Incident of 2012!

Going into details about that haunts my parents, my father mostly still today who were there to see it happen. Nightmares of that day when the three of us were standing at the Auburndale Station one late afternoon and me checking to see for a train coming any time now. Something I did for years, alone. That day I thought that I would go again, without anyone’s help. We were the only three people there at the time on that platform, and when the signs say stay back, away from the tracks, you do it, because then something like this may happen! My mother cried for months about this accident and myself when telling me stories about my father crying in bed for nights trying to understand Why?

Blessed are the clean of heart,

for they will see God.

Why his son, a 200-pound healthy man can suddenly fall dead down onto a 6 foot drop railroad track smashing the right side of his body head first, as we thought at the time. A hero, my father, jumped down, helped me up, and we walked the entire other way of the train track, slower than ever, until we finally made it to an old wooden ladder that we could climb. With no train in sight.

I had blood that was gushing out of me from what I thought at the time was my chin. And we waited and waited and waited which seemed like forever until the ambulance finally arrived. I noticed a man and a woman with a stretcher, and the man was average in size, but the women looked like she could have been my young baby sister. I didn’t freak out, but I did ask if they were anyone else with them. I kept saying to myself “This is going to be interesting”, and I was right. Rolling me over and into that ambulance took a bit more time then I would have appreciated. And then there was the big question, “Where are we taking him, he’s epileptic!” They started with Booth Memorial, but in years past Booth has no idea what epilepsy is, not one neurologist on hand. So, my mother and I were fighting with them to take me into NYU, my hospital full of neurologists, and especially my own! But then the driver said “Where is it, how do I get there”? and he wasn’t kidding. I wanted to grab him by the throat and say, “What kind of a damn ambulance is this?”! I was obviously in no shape to. I rolled my eyes and my mother took control of things from there.

Blessed are the peacemakers,

for they will be called children of God.

Into NYU we went and my father was traveling right behind us. We were still confused, nobody had an answer, and I was still bleeding profusely. But my face was fine, it had already been cleaned from inside the ambulance. My head on the other hand, was not good and different doctors told me different stories. The facts though, first was that the blood that hadn’t stopped was from blood in my brain. The second, was that my shoulders, broader than most, hit the ground before my head hit the track, saving my life, but it wasn’t done with yet. Another doctor said that he noticed a crack in the back of my scull.

After that I spent a couple of weeks in NYU having to flush the blood build up out of that same ear, while keeping my head to its side. Draining the blood out was a job that had to be done by myself, under supervision, without doctor’s tools or surgeries, just check-ups (This had to be done at home for a long time until the blood was completely drained out, in bed. This went on for a year, and some)!       

Now, this one doctor’s assumption and observation of my fractured cracked skull could have been wrong, but he may have been right as well. This is because that first night on that bed at NYU, without a doctor or nurses visit, was healed. That morning when doctors and nurses started to pile in, testing me about the usual, Name, Day, Time, How many fingers and such. I answered all their questions correctly and then when they checked the condition my head was in, they were all confused and amazed at the same time. I was just waiting to hear what the plan was now, yet I was not afraid of what they were about to say, and then I heard them chit-chatting like all doctors and nurses do, that it’s okay, he’s good. And then telling me that my head was healed, with wide opened eyes!

The blood although, persisted, and to this day on I find blood every day in my ear and more in my nostrils. Everything that comes blown onto a rag has dry and crusty blood, more than the average gook which is expected.  

Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,

for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.

The major falls continued throughout 2012, but this time it was in my bathroom, again. An metal heater can do great damage if it is fallen on and can slice the not so fortunate up like falling on shards of glass. I had four staples shot in my head to prove it. I was very lucky to of not been severely hurt, it hurt a lot less going in than coming out. It’s not a string, and it needs to be pulled out medically with a pair of pliers. For a word of advice, make sure that there is a man in the room, or a tough woman who knows her stuff, because I had my head yanked round and round by another one that could have passed for my baby sister, again! Just goes to figure. I had enough and told the girl to find someone capable, and one, two, three, four, they popped out, with a man’s help! (my wifecushioned the heater right after to keep me protected from that ever happening again!).

Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you falsely because of me.

Rejoice and be glad,

for your reward will be great in heaven.

Once that was all over and done with, I wanted my first tattoo to be a rather large one of Jesus Christ on my right arm with my father’s name Arcangelo Fiacco under it, scribbled in professionally as ‘MY FATHER, MY HERO’, for lifting me off those train tracks, risking his own life, like all great fathers would do, before being killed on those tracks by an on-coming train. My great parents are still alive and healthy today, just a bit slower and very much more tired than before. But, that tattoo is still up in the air until I can fork-up $5,000 or more for it, just hoping that one day I will be wearing something about him for all to see! 

The Beatitudes as told by Jesus Christ at the Sermon on the Mount. Matthew Chapter 5

Part IV - A VISIT WITH MY NEUROLOGIST

JANUARY 11TH

Going to see Dr. Kuzniecky with my parents and his team of epileptic scientists and nurses at 4p.m., I walked in and out with a face of happiness and laughter, not sorrow and depression!

This was a great surprise to see, by my doctor, that an oil along with all other meds was finally working in my favor. I offered him my bottle of CW OIL which he accepted thankfully, being that he hadn’t had one or seen it in hand; the bottle was close to finished, possibly only a few days left, so to study the oil in the bottle seemed smarter rather than an empty glass bottle, plus I had another waiting for me back home.

Be that at it is, my mother, father, Michelle (on the phone, working as usual) and I, all gave him the same story of a much healthier and much more loving person than ever before. “I love my momma, I can’t go a day without kissing her hello and goodbye”. My mother said the same, sort of “Bruno is like a totally different person now”!

My mother, always the Mother of a Million questions, was speechless. We were just waiting to see what Dr. Kuzniecky had to say, what did Kuzniecky have up his sleeve to share this time, which in the years past given the question “So what’s next?” (medication wise). Not this time. This time I wanted to ask “So how soon until I can start running track & field again Doc, or my laps up and down the Hudson River?” (Too much too soon). Instead he requested and Ambulatory EEG for a day in April. An AEEG for those who are not familiar, is an EEG just like any other, but to be worn for a day to show your results in your daily lifestyle, while strapping a bag to your waist for the device to work. Then the information is delivered back to your neurologist for further review the very next day.  

Pictured above is my greatest Neurologist, Dr. Ruben Kuzniecky from the NYU Epilepsy Center in NYC.

The one and only thing that was not changed in my life was my napping epidemic. On an average day, my napping pattern is an afternoon 2p.m. hour and a half rest, two at most, anything longer affects me, plus I’m not planning on sleeping my day away, no matter how crazy the situation may be. Dr. Kuzniecky always has the best and obvious advice, a quick one two punch! To take an extra amount of oil, just one more afternoon drop of your normal amount and let’s see how that does, because apparently, its working for everything else. And it does indeed! From that day on my naps were not so dreaded, but rather accepted in my life’s personal issues. No more waking up dazed and concerned in my Epileptic Netherworld of what was to come.

As it went on I could see how they were all dumbfounded, but I was not! Nor was Michelle. Her and I could see all the major differences that were finally happening, but some could not. Or just couldn’t conclude on what they always wanted to happen was finally happening. And many people can’t, even those you know. And for myself, it seemed like something that was pulled out of a Tim Burton movie. I could see my life being pulled into different directions, the right directions, and everything was moving in slow motion. All on my behalf from a now 36 soon to be 37yr old who’s life has been upside down and spinning all around since I was ten, and from birth!

On a side note - a little back story about myself - as we all hope to God know already, being yanked out of your mother’s womb with a pair of metal forceps on an infant’s delicate not to be touched head is trouble waiting to happen!!

PART III - THE MIRACLE: Ryhme & Reason

Many people call CW OIL the Miracle Oil, but how would you know about that unless you or someone else you may know has tried it. For those who want to listen and hopefully learn to better their lives for brighter and much heathier, longer future keep reading.

Once you have figured out all the necessary medications with your neurologist, who helps to break down the walls of unnecessary predicaments due to your everyday problems caused by seizures, epilepsy or not, it is best to realize that today and tomorrow are the days that we look forward to having.

For better and not worse!

Have you ever woken up on a Monday morning, flipping yourself over to the side of your bed, smiled, saying out loud “Yes it’s Monday”? Probably not, because who would, unless there is something great that is happening now that wasn’t ever there before, and the same goes for the rest of the week. There is something to live for now and to share with others the possibilities of that New Life. And the possibilities of that New Life are endless!

There are stories that I could fill you in that never ends, but boring my readers with the same dreaded life just isn’t my way anymore; not my style. This New Life now of can’t waiting to be woken up by my wife or alarm and giggling that this is going to be a big day, no matter the day, is a Miracle itself!

To do something good for others in need and to those who have done something good for you is Rewarded by God!

And by that everything in my life has changed almost 360 degrees, and all for the better, not one thing for the worse. It’s truly an unbelievable feeling of how a little bottle of oil can change our lives, hopefully forever. You begin to see all the Joy that the world has to offer and that has been handed down to you by others. You have no fear of the world that which you may have had before. You begin to see things much more clearly now while keeping yourself safe, occupied, in control of things that we only wish we could of have before. That sensation sticks with a person for the rest of their lives.

The oil can’t save you from everything, there will be times when problems occur, but that’s life for an epileptic. A seizure will come, but finding a New Life to live won’t unless you put your FULL HEART AND SOUL into it!

If there ever was a Miracle medication that had to be found as simple as a Marijuana leaf being grown from the ground, along with an unbelievable amount of prayers being said throughout the beginning of time, and two brothers from Colorado with all the respect for a young girl named Charlotte who have found a way for a better, normal, more action-packed life of opportunities, it is finally here!      

As a bonus, Part IV will be additional information on a day with my neurologist.