My Troubling Chocolate Addiction

 

With all the capability of my soul, I agree with the Incas of old that chocolate is the food of the gods.
         

I don't know what it is about chocolate which tinges my eyes with a worshipful, hypnotic glaze and makes me abandon all rational thought and reason. 

Eating too much chocolate is not good for my heart, The caffeine and sugar makes it flutter and increase in speed, mature moderation is my goal, yet still I persist in partaking in these elaborate gorging sessions regardless of the consequences.
                                                             
Also, when denied my worshipful treat my personality can change in a rather alarming manner.


                                         










The roots of my addiction can be traced to that of my childhood. Take for instance this story when I was nine years old. 


The Nutella chocolate spread was (and is) one of my favorite things to eat. When I ate Nutella I didn't like to spread it on a sandwich at lunch time, that was far too tame for me. In my eyes bread diluted the intoxicating flavor of the chocolaty goodness. I liked to eat the Nutella straight from the jar. 

One day I was up for the school holidays visiting my Grandparents. I was going for a casual wander through the kitchen when I saw to my amazement a jar of Nutella sitting all alone on the table. 


Grandma walked into the room and saw me gazing at he jar with my mouth open, eyes wide with 
longing. Grandma had a mission and it was the same one every holidays. Each day, she would do her up-most and use whatever it was in her power to make us become walking balls of lard. She is still the same today. 

Grandma walked over to me.



She handed me the Nutella jar. 

With every spoonful of the spread, the world became more and more wonderful and I became wonderful and Grandma was wonderful and the Nutella was the most wonderful of all. 

With all the energy I was gaining from eating the chocolate, I felt like I could climb a mountain or  adventure to strange and distant lands.





I then heard my Mother's voice through the grey, chocolate induced haze above me.



Mum reached down, took the Nutella jar and placed it on a shelf. 

But that night I crept out of my room and stole it back. I carried it hunched over, up the stairs and into the safety of the bathroom. 




Then locking the bathroom door, I opened the door of Grandma's towel cupboard. The cupboard was filled with sweet smelling lavender perfume. Each towel was newly cleaned and stacked one on top of the other in a fluffy, colorful pile which reached above my head. 

Roughly, I stuffed the Nutella jar between two towels with my sticky fingers and strolled back to bed, waiting for the chance to put my plan into action.



The next day Grandma was offering me food again,





I ran up to my buried treasure and began consuming mouthfuls of the delicious chocolate.



Then after about a week disaster struck. 




My beautiful Nutella jar, my very life blood for the past couple of days was empty. 

I was filled with deep sorrow. 

Then a sense of panic replaced the sorrow. I had to destroy the evidence, every second I held the Stolen Nutella jar in my procession the more dangerous my situation became. I had to get rid of it as soon as it were possible. 

Should I try and flush it down the toilet? Throw it out the window into the neighbor's backyard? Then I spied a little bin sitting by the bathroom sink. 

This gave me joy.


And freedom




I threw it into the bathroom bin without a second glance. 


Later that day Mum came to see me.





Fear instantly gripped my heart.







I couldn't believe it.








Relief flooded the core of my being.







After finding her necklace, Mum went to the bathroom.





She found the empty Nutella jar but because of the awesome person she is, she let me get away with it. 

I had to eat a lot of fruit after that though. 



- the-average-cyborg-girl 



How you can save lives


Almost everyone has the capability to save lives.




Yes, the potential to save the life of another human being rests in your hands.

Before I tell you more, I would like you to think about all the things that you enjoy doing or have enjoyed during your life.  

                                          
 Maybe its the memory of watching a beautiful sunset with someone you  love



           Or inhaling the delicious fragrance of a dew studded flower 



What about the time you had a picnic in the park with your family?



Or the first time you went to school?

 

Life is full of amazing experiences. It can be a hard journey with disappointments and heartache, but there are always things that make you look back and smile.  

Life is precious beyond words. 

It is also not fair. 

Some people are blessed with a full long life, while others have their  life cut off prematurely. 

My younger sister was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy when she was 17. She died two months later waiting for the heart transplant that never came. 

I was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy further on in the same year. My condition had only begun two years ago while my sister had been living with cardiomyopthy most of her life. I was put on medication for my heart and implanted with an ICD (pacemaker/defibrillator) and told that if I stayed healthy, I should be able to continue just fine. 

After I had been implanted with my ICD device, I knocked one of the wires out of place by slamming a car door on my chest. The four hour surgery to replace the wire went really well and I ended up only staying in hospital for three days and two nights. While I was in the ward, I met another person with cardiomyopathy. She was twenty-three. 

The night she was wheeled in, the nurses were preparing her for a heart transplant. It all felt so familiar. My sister had been prepared twice for a heart transplant so I knew what was going to happen. Then, lying behind the curtain I heard those deviating words.  


I was really sad for her. The two times we thought my sister was going to have a transplant was Traumatizing, The feelings of fear, excitement, and hope for the future surge through you, growing in strength and intensifying with every breath and every arduous
  second that goes by on the clock. 

then to have it all crushed with one tiny sentence is almost unbearable. 

When I was leaving the hospital for home, I said goodbye to the brave young women. "It was nice meeting you." I said, "I really hope you get a heart soon." I never saw her again after that but I hope she found a heart which was the perfect match. 



To answer simply... 


Organ donation is so important. This has been demonstrated in my own life and in the life of countless others from around the world. 

We were made to only live on this earth for a certain amount of time. This is nature. But through our passing we can give life. 

You can give that kid the chance the finish school, you can allow a mother to be able to spend more time with her family, you can let a Grandparent enjoy their Grandchildren and give life to the person who just wants to live.  

Organ donation isn't just restricted to the heart, by donating your other organs more people can be saved. All the things that make you look back on your life and smile, you are giving people the chance to experience those things and smile too. 

and I think there is almost nothing else you can do  which is as exciting as that. 



 - the-average-cyborg-girl

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My adventures setting off security doors at shopping centers with my pacemaker and how it gave me super powers.


A week or so ago I went shopping


Everything was normal, I had bought a mouthwatering book whose origins came from the far flung, airy vaults of the divine ( The Silmarillion)  and I was anticipating a long, extremely relaxing read with my cat.  
                                                                       
             but then something strange occurred when I was leaving through one of the shop's security doors...


 
 

One of the shop attendants came over


I tried to explain that the metal from my cardiac device  had made the security doors buzz



after a brief awkward silence 


By then I realized that I was feeling fatigued and my heart was fluttering a little bit . I went and bought a bottle of water and a small box of pumpkin and feta salad to re energize.  


Drinking water, eating delicious salad and reading the blurb of my new book about sixty times helped me feel better.

I decided to look at a few more shops. 




but then something amazing happened 


Nothing!


the doors didn't buzz. I went into a few other shops and it was the same as well. 

Then I concocted a theory. I was feeling a lot better after the rest, the water, the salad and the excessive blurb reading. My heart wasn't fluttering anymore. 

when my heart skips a beat my pacemaker gets it back into rhythm with a tiny, little electric pulse which I can't feel. 

 

so maybe because my heart wasn't fluttering anymore my pacemaker wasn't sending these little electric pulses and that's why I wasn't setting off the security doors. 


I came to the last  pair of security doors



I became nervous. What happened if my heart decided to start fluttering again and I made the doors buzz?  

I stepped through the doors. 



and then it hit me. 

The doors started buzzing because I was nervous. Nerves make my heart skip beats

now every time I went through a security door I could make it buzz. I could basically do it on command, 

I have super powers! 


- the-average-cyborg-girl



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