Long-time followers of this site remember when I used to blog about my training sessions with my wife. They read as I tried various methodologies with her, placed speakers in various parts of the house, and began the process of generating the file library that we offer here at this site. They’ll recall hearing about how my wife found out she was being trained, and even though she went bat-shit insane at the idea, she realized I had been doing it to try and save our relationship. She accepted more training, and she’s been a partner in the business ever since, helping write some of the scripts and allowing her mind to be an open book when new files are being developed.
Since the site went “commercial” I’ve posted less and less about our personal lives, but it’s cropped up here and there. Earlier this year I mentioned that my ability to put files out was being hampered by a 150-mile (each way!) commute, and then early this summer I posted about our need to build out a better recording studio (spoiler: you guys ROCK, and we got nearly everything we needed!). But other than that, we’re pretty private folk and keep to ourselves. If I’m not mentioning what’s going on at home, it’s because everything’s going the way it ought to.
That changed recently.
Back in the middle of summer, I had what seemed like a really bad allergy attack. Except, it didn’t go away. The wheezing and coughing and sneezing turned into something like pneumonia as a deep clogging blech just filled my lungs and made me hack and cough all day lung with tons of productive phlegm and gross crap coming out every time. I was shorter and shorter of breath up until the point where I became literally winded just getting up to go to the bathroom or pick up one of my kids.
Then at work, one day, I was at a meeting, and I fell asleep at the meeting. Mind you, this is something I just don’t do. Not only that, but when it was my turn to speak, I couldn’t think of the right words to say… and not because of lack of preparation, but because I couldn’t remember how to say the right words. I would start saying something, realize it was the wrong thing and try to restart the sentence mid-word, which made it sound like I was stuttering. I texted my wife, “I’ve developed a stutter.”
Then, my eyes got jittery. By that, I mean I would look at a stationary object, like a coffee cup, or a pencil… and it would be moving all zig-zag and crazy like. Like this:
At that point, my wife had had enough. She rushed to my work, came and got me, and said, “We’re going to the urgent care.”
When we got to the urgent care, I told the doctor what I’ve just told you, and he said, “My God, man. Why are you here? You need to be at the ER. Stat!” (Stat is a medical term meaning, “Wizard is about to die.”)
They rushed me to the hospital, where I got tested for an aneurism (nope!), a possible allergic reaction to a new allergy medicine (nope, but ironic, right?), or a stroke (nope) or… and hey, why isn’t my blood pressure going down even though they’ve got me on a ton of blood-pressure medicine?
So they tested my kidneys to see if they weren’t processing my medicines right (nope!) and then they tested my heart to see if it was… oh. shit. Why is that valve…broken? Not just broken, but… shredded?
From somewhere in the bowels of the hospital they summoned a cardiologist to come and explain to me that I had an actual broken heart. My four-cylinder engine had a broken gasket, and blood was going the wrong way down a one-way street.
For those who are medically minded, I have what is known as a “flayed mitral valve.” For those who aren’t, think about it this way: there are 4 chambers in the heart, and when your heart beats, it’s really pushing blood in or out of one of those chambers. The mitral valve is the connection from one chamber to another. It opens, blood shoots through, and it closes, preventing blood from regurgitating back into the old valve. There are little strands of muscle and tissue that do the opening and closing called chordae. Except my chordae are torn in several spots, and the valve doesn’t close right, and every three-or-four times my heart beats… blood backwashes the wrong way.
Left untreated, my broken heart is going to kill me.
Now, I have a morbid, morbid sense of humor. That part of me says I should just jump out right now and say “Before I die, though, the Oral Sex Bundle has been updated with all-new 3rd generation files! Get it today!” But that would be crude. Funny, but crude.
My wife is terrified. We have pretty good insurance, but there’s a big deductible that started to come down hard on me for the hospital stay I had in July. We have pretty good insurance, but the rest of that deductible will come due when I have heart surgery on October 20th to try and repair it. We have pretty good insurance, but that doesn’t negate the fear and anxiety that comes from knowing that in little more than a month, a surgeon is going to slice me open, stick metal tools into my chest, and literally try to cross-stitch my heart back together.
What this means to you:
We’re going to keep pushing out the 3rd generation product line, upgrading all our old files as quickly as possible, but there won’t be any new files coming out in the next 30 days. We’re going to stop accepting custom orders for the time being, but we will bust ass trying to close out the open custom orders still in the queue (and apologies to you guys, thanks for your patience).
If I die…
If I die the site will go on. I’m training my wife in something new this month: how to do the mastering of our files. She will continue putting out new files, and will reach out to our core of beta testers to do all of the testing that I originally used her for. I hope you treat her right… you all owe her a little bit for the hoops her brain learned to jump through on your behalf. :p
In the meantime, I’ve put a Fundly.com site up asking for folks to help cover the costs of the hospital stay, the hotel costs for my family while I’m in the hospital (it’s half a state away from where we live) and the loss of income from being out of work for 3-4 weeks (!) after surgery (best case scenario).
For those of you who don’t care about any of that shit and are just here for the mind-fuckery, you can help just by buying something, and to make that easier for you to do, I’ve put Everything in the store on sale for 20% off. Sale price will be reflected on every item.
For those of you who care, but want to donate without being a part of some crowd-sourcing mumbo jumbo, you can always just send us a Paypal to SubliminalSexTraining@gmail.com
And if you want to help out with the Fundly.com, then please send me an email (either the subliminalsextraining@gmail.com our our official email here, trainher@subliminalwifetraining.com) and I’ll send you the link. Because we’ll be sharing that campaign with the general public, we want to try and keep it separate from the business here, as I’m sure many of you understand.
Whether I die or not, I want every one of you to know that I am constantly humbled and amazed at your support. The testimonials we get are mind-blowing. The letters and correspondence we get from folks offering audio engineer advice is gratefully accepts, and we always get folks encouraging us, offering to help, extending hands of friendship and I am overwhelmed with this community every day — even though we’re all degenerate perverts, we’re good people. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
And now the morbid humor part of me wants to end by saying, “And since life slammed it up my ass this summer, be on the lookout for our next 3rd generation updates: the anal sex line!”
