@Vivek4real_@nayibbukele I hope you're also educating people about the different versions of Bitcoin, not just #BTC. There's one in particular, #BSV, that has already surpassed the popular options in terms of technical scalability and supports on-chain smart contracts. #BSVisBitcoinNotBTC
The house of cards is falling soon and he knows it.If I’m a liar why block me I simply pasted his statement into chat gpt and its answer was he’s spreading false and misleading information. He’s really the liar. 😂🫵 he wants you to think the real bitcoin is extinct
For the last five days I’ve been battling norovirus and gastroenteritis, and it has taken me apart in ways I didn’t expect. For three of those days I could barely move, barely think, barely do anything more than exist in bed. I wasn’t fully present, not even close. My body and my mind were running on fumes.
The lowest point came when dehydration dragged my blood pressure down to 81 over 40, with my heart slowing to 41 beats a minute. Normally I sit at about 108 over 89, with a resting pulse in the low 60s. To drop to that level meant my circulation was collapsing. When the heart slows instead of racing in the face of dehydration, it’s a sign the body is giving in. That is a dangerous place to be—on the edge of shock, where organs aren’t being fed enough blood and clarity begins to unravel.
Now, I’m no longer in that state. My blood pressure has climbed back up—102 over 80—with a steady, normal rhythm in my chest. I’ve rehydrated, and physically I’m steadier, but my head is still clouded. It feels like I’ve spent days under a burning sun, skull baked, the brain itself dried out and struggling to find its sharpness. I’m moving again, but the fog remains, and I can’t pretend otherwise.
Norovirus doesn’t just empty the body—it strips it of strength, of fluid, of coherence. It leaves you hollowed out. That’s what these last days have been: weakness, confusion, the sense of being scorched from the inside. But the worst has passed. I am stabilised. I’m still in recovery, still far from full strength, but I’ve turned the corner.
I want you to know that I’ve been through something brutal, that it left me in a dangerous place, and that I am now climbing out of it. Not whole yet, not clear-headed yet, but recovering.