Chuck Norris, Bears and X-Ray Vision. OH MY!

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I’ve put on this “cavernoma” ruse long enough. It’s time for me to come clean. Here is the true story of how I got my TBI –

Let’s go back to early May of 2009. I was a typical suburban dude – married with a young daughter, good job as a teacher/coach, house in the suburbs, etc. Later on that month, while driving home from work, I came across a giant bear (Bruce the bear) chasing a group of orphans.  I spent my youth wrestling bears in the wilds of Montana, so I stopped to render assistance.
You might be saying, “Jarrett, there aren’t any bears in North Texas.”
So that we may proceed, let’s assume that there are bears in North Texas (now that I think about it, it might have been a VERY LARGE squirrel).

Either way, a large furry animal was chasing after some orphans (hmm…they might have been leaves *shrugs shoulders*).

I sprang from my car like so much Chuck Norris. I then willed my car to pull over to the curb and park. 

I ran and got between the squirrel bear and the orphan leaves. Bruce the squirrel bear reared up on his hind legs and started pulling acorns out of a pouch in his abdomen (perhaps he was a squirrel bear kangaroo? A squearoo) and throwing them at me. Imagine a pitching machine at the batting cages times 57 (give or take).

I deftly evaded the oncoming oak tree fruits (The Matrix style) until the squearoo ran out of acorns, I then ran up to him and we engaged in fisticuffs. I quickly realized why I called him Bruce.The throw-down has since become legend in Sherman, known locally as “The Thrilla in Sherman-uh.”

I dealt what I thought was the fatal blow and turned to tend to the traumatized orphan leaves, but that scoundrel of a squearoo picked up a nearby acorn and launched at the back of my head. It struck me, but didn’t seem to phase me.

Aside from a slight headache for the next week, I felt fine. Then, the night before I was to meet the president at a ceremony organized by NASA (I don’t know?) to thank me for saving the orphan leaves, the headache became more of a head explosion.
The next day, I stayed home. I started vomiting and my headache only got worse. I went to the doctor, threw up in the waiting room. After the upchuck situation I was swiftly lead to an exam room.

The doctor suggested I go to the ER to get a CT scan. I scoffed at the notion of relying on such technology for a diagnosis. I suggested looking into a mirror and using my x-ray vision. I did this and drew an exact replica of this image on a post-it note.
From this very detailed drawing, the doctor informed me that the acorn to the head must have caused some sort of head trauma. Given the location and severity of the trauma, he suggested calling for a helicopter to take more to a hospital in Dallas. Again, I scoffed.
I then lifted from the ground like so much Superman and flew to Zale Lipshy in Dallas.
It feels great to finally get that off my chest. Before you ask, the flying and x-ray vision nerves are in the Pons – that’s why I can’t do them anymore.



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