When you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you. –Nietzsche
One of the problems with treating horrific pain with opioids, is that it creates the cycle of attacks. Doctors treat an attack of pancreatitis with opioids, but then the opioids can cause pancreatitis. Hence, the quote above.
So maybe living with some pain is better than the release of it while risking further attacks. I cannot say if I could get through the type of pancreatitis pain I had in the beginning without pain medicine. Probably not. There is a reason pancreatitis is considered the 2nd worst pain in the world. But for right now I’m just happy I can get through daily life, albeit in an extremely limited way, without even Tylenol.
In my last post I was playing in a tournament with a mere 100 chips at the 200/400 blind level. Naturally I shoved and shoved, eventually regaining the 1500 starting stack. It was back on past that point. I resumed playing in my tight, cautious way.
One advantage a tight player has is that other players who are semi-aware, but not good players notice that a tight player doesn’t play a lot of hands and folds often. So the loose players tend to start bullying and trying to control the rock, equating tightness with weakness. These players are typically the ones who help me win. Thanks guys!
Lots of times I bust out when my AA runs into 63o. But most of the time I double through. And yes, I only play AA.
But people think that. So when I find tables that will fold to my all-ins, thinking I have a group one hand, I sometimes shove 74o. I actually play lots of sub par hands. I just pick my spots to make big moves. Hyper-awareness, kiddos, makes up for a lack of actual skill.
Eventually I got into the zone and managed to win the thing. No, it’s wasn’t my greatest ever come back. Not only have I come back from less, but I’ve even seen others do it, and often. Just yesterday I watched a guy who was busted down to 15 chips, not even enough for the ante of 100. He didn’t win the whole thing, but he got really high into the money, as all of his hands were all-in, and somehow he managed to survive time and again. The last time I looked, he was up to 10k again. I think he busted out not long after that, but normally he wouldn’t have gotten that kind of payout.
Due to the “bad times” of poker, I don’t have many readers to share my stories with anymore. Yet, that in itself is quite a blessing, too. I like the types of readers I have more these days.
All-in-all, I guess I wouldn’t go back to the poker boom. Stud is no longer a bad word, not as many wannabes think Vegas is nirvana and the games still seem super juicy, albeit not as in abundance. But regardless of my own personal preference, the real victory is that I’m still here and that is enough for me to be unbelievably happy (so tough to be bitter, party of one, after everything is said and done).
And that concludes my Good Times, Bad Times trilogy. I wish it was more interesting for everyone. I guess I was more focused on blabbing about my personal health and circumstances. So so so ecstatic to be able to think, to live, to play and at the thought of reaching 45 soon. Shalom!