Geek Habitat

Like Rob and Dana, and the rest of Darn-Tootin.com’s readership, I am rooting for the Chubbin’ and have been mercilessly sticking needles in my voodoo “Schuyler’s Monster” doll since she was diagnosed. Now that Rob had a chance to report on their trip to Chicago to see the specialist, it puts my knee hassles in a decidedly different light (as well it should!) I know every parent in the world would give all they had if they could choose a knee brace, physical therapy, or knee surgery, over something that seems driven to f— with their little girl by attacking her from the inside-out.

And while I know the specialist in Chicago meant to help them by providing information, it just seems wrong to tell a parent their child will never speak, will experience serious seizures at a point in her life (puberty) when young women already have enough problems as it is, etc. The rational part of me nods slowly. “Doctors aren’t paid to have good news. Or even bad news. They just relay facts, and interpret signs and signals from our bodies.” But still, something in me wants to go wring the Doc by his neck. Which is I suppose why Rob was so astute as to never share the distinguished doctor’s name — he probably would have had an onslaught of Chubbin’-fans beating down his email box.

I don’t know Rob, Dana or the Chubbin’. I feel closer to them after having been a reader for so long, and knowing they live just an hour up the road in Austin, Texas. But that closeness isn’t currency, and it certainly isn’t a cure.

For what it’s worth, Chubbin’, I look at that face (17MB MPEG) online and I think, “There’s a soul that really understands how screwed up this world is, yet still has the strength and attitude to laugh at it.” In your face, Monster… you’re no match for Schuyler, everyone’s adopted Chubbin’!

F— That. Sometimes what a doctor says is only useful in the way top caliber endurance athletes use everything that’s ever pissed them off, slighted them, hurt their feelings, or sullied their reputation — as FUEL for their FIGHT… an angry, gnawing incentive for why they have to win the next race — to prove all their detractors wrong.