About Us

Hello, my name is Kenneth McFadden. I’m a disabled veteran dealing with traumas from the service. After exiting the Air Force, I struggled quite a bit with PTSD. My mother passed away unexpectedly; I had just talked to both parents the night before. My father asked me to come home and be his caregiver, as that was what I was doing in Washington State at the time. I relocated to Georgia, and we shared many great times together. I learned so much from him. He lived a great life and did so much for so many people, all while being polite, humble, and a great person. He was now suffering from prostate cancer and other illnesses. Seeing my father wither away as the cancer broke him down made me a basket case, to say the least.

I became Dad’s caregiver, and we grew very close until his passing. While he was on hospice, I took him to many places and appointments. Everywhere we went, he left people with smiles and positive vibes. He was a great man, father, husband, grandfather, provider, and hero to me. I knew his passing was coming, but even then, I wasn’t ready, as many are not. I was in the next room and missed his final moments. I blamed myself, thinking “if only” scenarios. I was a wreck, not knowing how to release this burst of energy, I was lost for words. My father and I had done yard work and gardening together for a few years. He liked his yard looking right and tight, so I went and tightened up his yard, crying the whole time. One of the many things Dad always said was, “Why not me?” He showed me, by watching him deal with his issues, to keep your peace and share it at the same time. Very hard to master.

Two months later, my brother also contracted prostate cancer. I was overwhelmed with stress and anxiety. Through it all, I talked to my oldest son about my mental state. I was a wreck. In the midst of our conversation, I went to the bathroom and noticed blood in my stool. Anxiety jumped from 100% to 500%. I went straight to the ER. This is where my cancer season began, and after all I had just been through with Dad, now it was my time to fight the good fight.

After talking with the doctor, I was scheduled for a colonoscopy. Nervously, I prepped for it. While under anesthesia, the doctor kept trying to push the camera through the blockage. He pushed hard enough that it woke me up. As my eyes opened, all I could say was, “Damn, that’s a big TV.” “Oh damn, he’s awake!” was all I remember someone yelling. When I woke up, I was confused. After the doctor talked to me and asked if I had any questions, I had one: “Will I wake up during this operation?” “NO,” he said loudly, “I will make sure of that.”

A day later, I nervously went in to get prepped for the operation. My mind raced in every direction. I was wheeled into the operating room. As the lights shone on me, I thought of all the times I took Dad in for his procedures. The anesthesia made the lights fade to black. When I opened my eyes in a private room, it was like there was an air horn going off in my head. The staff came running. I was in the bed yelling, “Turn it down, it’s too loud!” The staff said there was nothing on. It turns out I now have tinnitus that rings to this day. It’s a conflict with my headaches and migraines. On one hand, the worst thing for tinnitus is silence, but I need quiet for the headaches. As I fought to figure out some kind of self-preservation to survive myself, I turned to my digital art; it came to my rescue. The pieces I’ve created came from feelings and thoughts I couldn’t express. I truly needed to release these feelings—they were eating me alive. The side effects from the meds have been the worst for me, and the feeling of loneliness was overwhelming. I also turned to friends and social media for support. I was so surprised when strangers sent me love and support. Not knowing how much it would feed my soul, I say thank you all. I also have to thank the doctors and nurses who cared for me. My real friends rallied together and loved me until I could love myself. Love the ones that support you when you’re down.

I was blessed to get to the ER in time, knowing when something is wrong and just going. I have not had to have chemo, radiation, or a colostomy bag. This season was a test to elevate me to another mental level. It was nothing like I thought it would be and way more than I could stand. It’s not an easy road to travel, but I’m strong. Prayers to the Most High.

I wanted to share my story to support and encourage others going through their season. Whatever you suffer from, there are worse symptoms than we have. I want this platform to allow others to release stress and anxiety. A site to let you know that you don’t have to be alone while you recover. This site is also for others to see how therapy helped them survive their season. If you see art and are interested in it, all sales of art go to supporting people in their season. I’m a self-taught artist who has found my blessing. I give all the praise to my God, my father, and my mother.