deciding what to write about

well i've no problem thinking about stuff to write about, but i want to put it all down in some semblance of order. it would be easy to just start typing out stories one after the other, but as i do that i realize sumtin i say might not make sense without an account of a previous experience.



that said, stuff that has happened most recently tends to be fore most in my mind as opposed to stuff from 18 or so months ago.

plus i don't want to bore anyone, least of all myself.

i've already given the readers a chance to be confused at least once.

i've mentioned 'my friend'. well her name is amelia, and she is much more than a friend. we met as coworkers, years ago(1989), became friends and more. she is currently my ex girlfriend and best friend. i insisted on the friendship part, despite her objections. i was not so keen on the 'ex' part.

lets see if i have a photo


not the greatest, but best i could do on short notice. anyhoo, this is the friend that found me and stayed with me for 3 days or so in the beginning.

she is a strong women, with a big heart. she had just lost her father the previous december and then in february, she lost her grandmother, while i was adjusting to my tragedy. i didnt see her for a couple weeks, but i certainly understood.

ok, so thats cleared up right. friend=ex=amelia.

the lady in the ambulance taking me from hosp #! to hosp#2 was quite nice. her only concern was that i was comfortable, and i was only concerned about being comfortable, so that worked out. i realized at some point, that no mattre how special she may have made me feel, i was just another delivery to her. just another package to be picked up and dropped off. her hair was a bit askew, so i figured she had had a rough day. i was nice to her. i didnt pee on her gourney.

they wheel up me up to my new 'home'.transfer me to my new 'bed'(it had lots more buttons) and i meet 'bill' for the first time. i mentioned him before. he asked if i had had dinner, i had not, and promptly fed me. nice guy. he also gave me 'peeing in a plastic bottle' pointers.

don't laugh. its not as easy as you might think with one hand, lying on your back.

i spent alot of time on my side, that first week in rehab.

the meds started and the shit hit the fan literally.

these bozos gave me a laxative and a stool softener. i wasn't aware of this until about 2 weeks latre after i had grown quite tired of sitting in my own poo, i asked what meds i was being forced to take.

it was a shitfest fer sure. it was so bad they started coming in the room wearing hazmat suits.

you nust understand. i couldnt get out of bed by myself and half my ass was paralyzed. when my bowels decided to move there was nothing to stop them from breaking on thru to the other side.

the poopnazi nurse was convinced that there was something wrong with me and i did not disagree with her assessment. but we did almost come to blows on her diagnosis. i don't remember what desease she was convinced i had, but i do recall screaming at her about the meds being the problem. she informed me that all patients get those meds cuz stroke victims tend to have a bit of a problem 'moving'. she said it was standard.

now this was the one time i got sorely pissed. no Doctot talked to me before these meds were administered and i wasnt blowing crap across the room in the first hospital. i quit taking the meds until i talked to a doctor.

they finally saw it my way and i became regular.

moral:if you or a loved one are in a hospital, dont take any meds unless you know what they are and what they are for.

one time after i graduated out of the diaper, they put a port a pottie next to my bed. it was a chair with a hole in it, with room for a bucket. sure to ruin any decor.

anyway, a nice young nurse helped me out of bed to the chair, encouraging me to hold it, but no bucket!, she had to leave me to fetch the bucket, she asked me ' can you hold it?

i was concentrating on sitting on this paul bunyun chair(my feet dangled) and on holding it, and silently berating her for not being prepared. i could tell she was trying not to panic and i could tell she was failing. i started to see humor in the situation and before i knew it i yelled ' i'm coming!' now im sure i meant to say ' its coming' or 'i cant hold it' but when your brain is damaged, there is no telling.....

this precious innocent young girl, stuck her hand under the seat, no glove, no towel,no nothing, just her bare hand, and caught my turds as gravity did its thing. it was a brief initial movement and i assured her i could hold it til she fetched the bucket.

then she went to wash her hands and me, i let loose the dogs of war..

next she showered me and i probaly took a nap.

i'm not gonna mention her name. cuz i don't remember. but a guy tends to fall for a gal willing to catch his turds. maybe it was the shower.

i wonder how she wrote that up in her report. they wrote up everything. i shouold have. i wanted to. i asked frieds and familt to get me a laptop. this blogging idea started quite early. i couldn't convince anyone to bring me a laptop. i couoldn't even get a big chief tablet.

i did keep a log of evertime i fell, but i turned it in when i was discharged. i wish i had made copies. i wonder if i go back if they will have my original notes. i want to go back and take pictures, so.....

ok, the turd nurse, lets call her ella, when she showered me, it was heaven. she was willing to bathe mostly my entire body. lets just say during my times with her in the shower were the only times i was upset that i had one working arm. the other nurses thought they were therapists and had me bathe myself, which is not so bad if you don't mind being half clean. couple of them wouold just make sure i got to the shower safely, then say pull the cord when your done.


ella was sweet i liked her.

ok, did you read all of this, you better had, i took the time to type it...

peace