Monday, December 29, 2014

Joe Zizzi's childhood in the 1950s had everything a kid could want--pro athlete dad, wonderful mom, cool big bro. When the '60s kick in, this ideal life is violently shaken: a car crash claims his mother's life and his father's career, and brother Matt becomes distant and disturbed. Over the 
years, Joe learns to cope and carves out a niche for himself as a college sports star, and later as a coach and writer, but he can't quite shake the family legacy. Diagnosed with kidney failure, the semi-pro husband and devoted dad has life-and-death decisions to make--and life wins, 
though perhaps only by a slim margin.

One day, when I really hadn't slept at all except for maybe an hour and I fell asleep the 
minute I hit the chair and they had to wake me to get a standing BP, I almost didn't feel them poking. Except they had trouble and they called a second tech over to poke. They called for a third tech, and the guy who calls himself Mickey Mouse came over to poke. I felt my arm starting to blow up, both internally and externally.

"Doesn't feel too good, y'know? At all."

"We've gone through."

"What? Gone through what?" 

"Right through."

"Right through the arm?" I tried to crane my head to see the needle sticking out the other 
side. Morbid curiosity.

"No, it went through the vein."

I started praying--granted, with a few cuss words thrown in. They tie an ice bag to the arm with a blue rubber tourniquet, the item they use to make the vein stick out in the first place. 

The arm is ballooning. My eyes are out on stalks. I feel the sensation of all my blood draining from my body and wonder whether this is it. I look to observe the pools of blood dripping out of every pore in the arm; there are none. The thing is a horrible color, a horrible size, a horrible sight. And they tell me to come back tomorrow.

"At a reasonable hour?"

"At the usual hour."

I spent the rest of the day at home, asleep, getting out only to refresh my ice pack. Next 

day I was back. Thank God, it went terrifically. What were the odds?

Chris Six is a writer, the chief everything officer of The Chris Six Group, and the recipient of
somebody else's kidney: "I narrated the story onto tape before I ever wrote a word. I even brought my recorder to dialysis and upset the technicians. Nowadays, I'm in awe of indie authors doing hands-on marketing. I couldn't imagine doing this even five years ago."


Chris Six will be awarding a $15 Amazon/Barnes & Noble gift card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour
a Rafflecopter giveaway

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