I guess my profound thought of the week would be, take it slow and
controlled. That's what my therapists say. In therapy this week I walked
with an Arteo harness and walker. It felt great to walk. Each step is
thought out, planned and executed. Slow and controlled. It's amazing to
me, I ran across America, yet, here I am just barely making it down the
hall. I guess both are achievements and marathons in their own right - long
distance runs.
This week was a crazy week. We had record snowfall on leaves that were
just turning. It was the week before Halloween. The event caused a lot of
branches to break, trees to fall and power lines to tumble. There were
blackouts everywhere. Including our home. We still don't' have any power
and it's been almost a week. My family has cabin fever. My mother and
father are like cats and dogs. I try to be a fly on the wall. Never a dull
moment, and yes, life is stranger than fiction.
The County people from Medicaid stopped by to pay a visit. I guess they
come by once in a while to check up on me. A friend from Helen Hayes also
stopped by. He was in the same room as I. Was good to see them. And it
was also good to hear them say, "Boy, you sure have improved." It's great to
get some reassuring news. It's like I said before, when you run a race and
there are people cheering you on, you're gonna run better. I just thought
I'd share that with you.
Oh, by the way, my friend with whom I shared a room, he had an aneurysm.
He is so much better, you would never know he had a problem. He was in a
bad way when I saw him last. Remarkable what therapy can do to help you
get better. The first time I saw him he looked like a wild man from Borneo -
crazy eyes, crazy beard, crazy hair, pissing all over himself and having a
great time. Whenever he'd get a little cocky, I'd remind him of that
moment. We talked about our room. It was great. We had him, he's
Jewish. Next to him was a Black Panther. The guy next to me was an Italian
Catholic drug addicct. The there's me. I don't know what I am. I guess I'd
be a wasp. But I just called them by their names. One thing we did have in
common was, we were all messed up.
Now for my introspective thought of the week: I have Traumatic Brain
Injury and we have no power. This is not a good combination. I felt so
helpless all week. If something were to happen to me, I'd have no way of
getting a hold of anyone. The cell phone works, but I can hardly hold it. I
was on our porch the first day of the storm listening to branches break and
trees falling. That's kind of how I fell. I wish I could help out or build a
fire, help my dad carry wood, help my mom cook. I can't help at all. It's a
feeling of helplessness. Well, soon the power will come on. We'll get heat
back. Lights back. Everything will get back to normal. I guess it's kind of
like me. I guess I can't wait for my power to come back. That's OK. I've
had a lot of time to think.
The last thing I'd like to say is, I think more attention should be given to
our caregivers. For example, my mother, father, sister, cousin and friends.
They've all spent valuable time taking care of me. Yet they get no financial
support. I could easily become a ward of the state or just dump myself in
some institution run by the State. The system works, but it needs some
tune up. Something is not right.
Anyway, it doesn't make sense that there's people out there who need help
and there's people willing to help, but there's a disconnect between the
two. OK, I'll get off my soapbox. That's it for now because I have no more
to say and my friend, Julie, is writing this. Remember, we have no power.
See you next week. B. Nice
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