Home Again

A friend of mine contacted me from very far away.  She wanted to know how everything was going now that I'm living in my new apartment.  It's a strange thing.  I am enjoying a wealth of freedom and privacy in this two hundred thirty square foot apartment.  Even without the refrigerator and stove, without the countertops, this room is still smaller than my old bedroom at the house I just left.  Of course, that's not why I left.

There is a degree of satisfaction I get in being able to prepare my own meals, make my own coffee, and decide what time of day I will shower.  Living where I was living all of that was gone.  It's a care home.  As far as care homes go this one is actually pretty damn good.  The house was always immaculately clean, and the meals were well-prepared.  On those accounts I have no complaints.

Living the way I do, is easy to forget the problems I had when I moved into that house.  Coming out of surgery on my spine, I was unable to effectively move out of my bed, or even lift my head off the pillow.  I had a neurosurgeon that told me I had no symptoms that day that I didn't have the day before my surgery.  On that account I would say the man was insane.

So I embarked on thirty days of rehabilitation in the Valley medical Center spinal cord rehab unit.  I learned about my spinal cord injury, and started learning about how to live effectively with my problems.

one piece of hardware I left behind at the house, a unit paid for by Medicare,  is a specialized hydraulic lift my caregivers used to pull my body out of bed, into my chair, into my bath chair, and back to my bed again.  With the strength and abilities that I've regained it is hard to remember that I was living so helplessly just a few months ago.  Over the last two years I've dispensed with most of that stuff.  It would be insane for me to think that I would need to live in that environment any longer.

So, when my friend e-mailed me from Indonesia to ask me how I am enjoying my newfound privacy and freedom, I feel a little bit overwhelmed.  It is strange to know that after two years of having virtually no privacy, I now have all of that back.  Having minimal control over my diet, I now have the ability to prepare all my own meals, and control my portions as I wish.  Well I live in a complex surrounded by people immersed in all kinds of drama, I am still able to sit here in complete quiet, untouched by any of it unless I want to participate.

In response to my friend's question about privacy and freedom, I was afraid that I might mislead her with my response.  I went to the lady who runs the office here at the apartment complex, and I told her how much nervousness or anxiety I feel in the absence of all the chaos that I lived in before.  (That is not to say that I want any of it back) there was plenty of people at my house that wanted to take control of my decisions, control my actions, and interrogate me about the minutiae of my day-to-day existence.  The apartment manager said that if I miss any of that, there are many many people here in this complex that can fill that need.  I assured her that I would call her if I decided that I need her assistance.

Today, one month after moving out, I had a refrigerator full of vegetables.  I'm finding many obligations to keep my time.  I exercise on a regular basis, and I'm already losing weight.  Clothing is fitting me that hasn't fit me in a long time.  as a spinal board patient, I still have difficulty doing a few things I have a caregiver who comes into my house and helps me a short ten to fifteen hours a week to help me with a few items that I can still can't attend to myself.  That emptiness and anxiety is leaving me.  With time, I may even find a way to decorate the small little home that I'm creating for myself.

Thank you for reading.

Another Day Closer

"I found your nose today.  It was stuck in my business again."--Spotted on a T-shirt on the 25 bus in Willow Glen, San Jose

Everything I have to move in preparation for Saturday needs minimal organization, and will fit in just a couple boxes.  For all the satisfaction I feel about moving, I am still feeling a little apprehensive.  This change will be a big one.

When a mind is strong as mine, I always imagine that based on willpower alone I could resist someone's efforts to diminish my self-confidence.  I was wrong. I have watched for the last two years as people would come here to interview to live here, and think to myself, may God help you to see your options to more clearly than I have mine.  I believe all the good food prepared here does little to compensate for the unnecessary negativity of the management here. How sad to think that I, or any adult, should Be subjected to the yammering of an idiot, puffed up over time by some unrealistic, and wholly undeserved, sense of self-importance.

Two years ago, back from my Spinal surgery unable to walk, stand, or actively transfer myself to another chair, I felt completely  incapable of effecting control over my own life. I've since been able to develop my strength, balance, and confidence to where I'm no longer as dependent on others for my daily needs. Now, I accept that as an adult I should be able to live with some small degree of privacy, and not have strange people prying amongst the minutia of my daily affairs. Last month I found application to an apartment complex, and started to prepare myself to  live as a normal human being again.

I mean this concern goes way beyond my dislike of living with other people.  Every man is certainly entitled to have opinions about his fellow man.  Even with my strictest observance of Scripture, it can be very hard for this man to avoid judging his fellow man.  I know I do my best.  But I do take note that since I decided to quit drinking alcohol twenty years ago, I had a group of people, my friends, that taught me the value of staying out of other people's concerns.  I have a vested interest in keeping my attention focused onto my business.  I suppose it is this fact that, conversely, makes me impatient or intolerant, when someone else wants to get overly involved in my life.

Fine people work with me daily to remember the peace and calm that comes from just managing my  life, my own business well.  It is with this in mind that I finally decided to leave this home, and move to a place that has a lock on the door that I can lock, and guests typicallyt will arrive here only if invited.

Tomorrow, once my family and my friends have helped me- all my clothes are hung up in the closet, and all the boxes have been unpacked- I'm quite certain to leave my home To seek out my friends. Aside from the caregivers that will be managing my home and personal needs to my precise specifications, I think I'll be quite content not inviting anyone over, perhaps for a long, long time.

With this new arrangement, I am quite excited to say that I will now be able to write my own menus, and sauté onions and garlic on a regular basis (no one here cooks with sautéed onions and garlic) and make sure that my refrigerator is stocked with a bounty of fresh vegetables and greens.  standing in my steaming frame more regularly will magnify my strength and they'll be able to go to the gym and start swimming for once.  This is going be the starting point for much more exciting existence.

Thanks for reading.

Counting the Days by Candlelight

I have one week left to go. Sitting in this home- constant care, good food, and no privacy- some people might feel that I am torn about my decision to move. I'm not torn. I crave my privacy, and I enjoy knowing that I'll soon be in more control of my day-to-day activities. I received notification yesterday that my apartment has opened up

 I can't say that my home here is not interesting. I glance at our elderly cat, Sherbet, and am pleased to note that since his trip to the groomers, he is already starting to grow back his hair. He's now made the transition from looking like a sickly Chihuahua, to looking like a shorthaired cat with a fuzzy tail. I found a brush that I don't use the ran that across his back, and he enjoys the attention pressing into the brush with his face, his chin, in his back.he's enjoying a lot of extra attention now that he's getting old.

 Someone is watching the Smurfs movie on the big screen television. Next to me, on the coffee table, someone has replaced this morning's orange rind candle. The orange was sliced in half, and the fruit was extracted from the rind, leaving behind an empty shell with the pithy core of the orange rising up as a makeshift wick. I've already watched this process once today, and it's amusing to see that someone wanted to re-create it. The only point of contention I would have over this process, is that they are using olive oil as the fuel for the candle.

 I can find no justification for that. It may be exciting to watch Rachael Ray on television, and watch as she sprinkles her EVOO on her food products, but olive oil was not meant for combustion. This, of course, is in my own humble opinion. I stare at the olive oil- a light, flavorful, monounsaturated oil-and can only think of its expense, and how it relates to its limited potential as a fuel. Indeed this candle is only an experiment, but if I'm to watch this repeated more than this one night, I would have to protest. For a far lesser expense, they could invest in a polyunsaturated fat, far more hydrogen rich, then this olive oil; this candle would be a sustainable experience, that would definitely give us more bang for our buck.

As I have listened to Dr. Bill Wattenberg, I know this is the path I have to take, and I must fight the good fight. But, in a week this will all be a moot point. I am packing up my boxes, switching up the addresses for my magazine subscriptions, and hoping the best for that little kitty who will live out his final months here. I will celebrate my independence, and I will start writing my own menus.

 I will not look back to the fine people here, the good food, or their general concern for my well-being, with any kind of longing. I am grateful for the assistance that I'm getting here, particularly their assistance in helping me move. Yet, when I move it will be unceremonious, and without regret. For as long as I  lived on this planet, I have Truly come to like many people. I don't believe that I like anyone enough, though, to want to live with them. I believe this change is a good one, well overdue.

Thank you for reading.

preparing to move

I am on a quest to find Apple boxes. Apple boxes are the perfect, free packing boxes for anyone that needs to make a move. After twenty months  living in a board and care home, I finally decided that my sanity depended upon me living alone.  It's not that I don't like people.  I just don't particularly want to be around them at home.  So, I searched my soul,and decided to get an apartment rental application.

As a spinal cord patient, making this decision was not easy one.  I can remember June, almost 2 years ago, when I moved to the board and care home.  I have to remember that's coming out of spinal cord rehab, my attendants needed to move my body using a Hoyer lift.  A sling was placed underneath my body and attached to a hydraulically powered lift the and drug across the room to drop me into my chair, or into my bed.

The Hoyer lift remains in my closet, and reminds me of the progress that I've made, the progress my body has made.  Whenever I get disgusted over the people with whom I share a house, I have to remember the humble state I was in just two years ago.  Two years ago, before my spinal cord surgery, I did not have the strength, the knowledge, or skills needed to safely move about my home.  I should stay grateful for the patience I learned living with others.  Now, I'm ready to reclaim my peace of mind.

Where I lived before the surgery, I had a number of friends.  One was my friend Jack, a man of known for almost 20 years.  Deciding reapply at this complex again, the thought occurred to me to call Jack, and see how he is doing.  Today was my appointment, and I came my identification, my bank statements, and my general good sense of humor.   I sat with the lady for less than half an hour, filling out and signing various documents.  I went outside to find many residents I knew from my previous time living there.

Because I knew they had ADA apartments on-site, I wanted to know what it would take for me to gets on the waiting list for one.  Apparently, the wait for a standard apartment is about three or four months.  The lady asked me if I wanted an ADA apartment.  Looking down at my legs, my hands, my power wheelchair, I smiled and told her that that would be splendid.  She told me that in that case, there was an ADA apartment available and ready to rent.  Maybe this process of moving is going to move smoother than I realized.

My desire and need for lowered countertops and a role in shower, has shot me to the top of the list.  I checked out the unit ,  I thanked the apartment manager, and went out into the courtyard to say hello to old friends..  I got to share with them that I was moving back in, and that I'd seen the unit that I'll be moving into.  Someone asked me," what unit will be moving into?"  I told them number 415.  He looked over at someone else and asked," wasn't for fifteen good unit number of that guy jack who died a couple months ago?"  And in the next 5 minutes I got to find out that not only is my friend passed away, but that as a result of his passing, I now have a place to live.  I copied down lots of phone numbers in my cell phone.  I happen to know that his is there also.  I guess that's one number I won't get around to using.

Thank you for reading.

Embracing Utlity

every once in a while, someone will walk up to me, share with me some value as if it's some clearly verifiable fact, when in truth the value is totally arbitrary and cannot be verified by any source. Estimates are funny that way. For example, when I was a kid people used to talk about nuclear arms, and say crazy things like" there are enough nuclear arms to blow up the world ten times over." Unable to determine what is even meant by the phrase " blow up the world" these estimates are useless.

 Still, people tell us these things perhaps to inform us, but were likely to arouse some kind of emotional response. But, I did a Google search on the number of advertising messages a person sees a day. While there is no real system to get an accurate number on this, most people accept that the number is rather large. The Google search I did came up with estimates of anywhere from 500 to 5000 advertising messages or images a day.

  I do love technology, but historically I've been slow to adopt it. I even once said that I would only accept technology that is at least five years obsolete. Once again I throw out an arbitrary value of my own. Who knows why I picked five years? Yet, I am not absent from this world. I sit on the Internet, I do watch some television, and I am out in the world every single day. Even I come face-to-face with hundreds advertising messages trying to burrow into my brain. Even I fall under the evil influence of advertisers. I know it's shocking to hear me make such an admission.

  I wanted to build an image of myself. I liked the image I had of myself as being technologically resistant. Forty years after the writing of Toffler's future shock, I enjoy putting the brakes on change in my life. I watched the television show Monk, when a woman asked Adrian," you don't like change much. Do you"? He said that he doesn't mind change; he just doesn't want to be there when it happens. I sometimes feel like that.

  I enjoy my Samsung flip phone, my old IBM Lenovo laptop(with the Windows XP OS), my MP3 player, in my small room filled with surge protectors, Chargers, transformers, and single-purpose tech devices. Funny however, I acknowledge my limited mobility. I see that issues that come from my limited digits (fingers) in this digital age. I have become sold on the utility of multipurpose devices. In short, I want an Android. I'm talking about a tablet. My little fingers hate holding books. Backpacks are a mess. People up in hitting me up to buy for myself a book reader device.

  A 7 inch tablet is what I'm looking for. The ability to check my e-mail, read my books, surf the net, take pictures, and report to you; it's all too good to be true. The trick is to find the right one. Piece by piece I am actually researching this information. You would think that I've escaped my impulsivity. Yet, sorting the pros and cons of each one device is taking time. It's scary knowing that owning the most popular readers demand that I purchase my reading material through their parent company. Apparently, there is some truth in that statement. I was lost in a moment's reverie, when I discovered that the android store provides access to over 400,000 apps.( the Kindle Fire apparently only has access to 10,000 of those apps . Hmmnnn.)

  All this would be a moot point, if I never walked into Barnes & Noble on that one day. It was a different day, a day with special vibration, and me wandering about with the curious sensitivity. I saw the Barnes & Noble Nook display, held the device in my hand, and asked the salesman many questions. It feels wrong to confess this vulnerability. But luckily, I had no money. The Android people, the iPad people, the Kindle reader devotees, all played a part in this meme that was planted in my soul. Like a sneeze, like a nervous tic, or the aura of an oncoming seizure this meme begs fulfillment. But, I can still read about them, touch them, and visit them. I do not have to have one right now.

  Thank you for reading

This is the Way to Hear Metallica

apocalypse Look up apocalypse at Dictionary.com late 14c., "revelation, disclosure," from Church L. apocalypsis "revelation," from Gk. apokalyptein "uncover, disclose, reveal," from apo- "from" (see apo-) + kalyptein "to cover, conceal" (see Calypso). The Christian end-of-the-world story is part of the revelation in John of Patmos' book "Apokalypsis" (a title rendered into English as "Apocalypse" c.1230 and "Revelations" by Wyclif c.1380). Its general sense in M.E. was "insight, vision; hallucination;" meaning "a cataclysmic event" is modern. As agent nouns, apocalypst (1829), apocalypt (1834), and apocalyptist (1835) have been tried.

This is the band Apocalyptica, starting out as a Metallica tribute band from Finland, I never learned their music until recently. In fact, it was not until I discovered them that I realized an appreciation for Metallica's music in general. Here are the four playing Nothing Else Matters.

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

So, last Sunday I went to mass at St. Joseph's Cathedral, and I met this man who was toasting hot dog buns, while grilling hot dogs wrapped in bacon.  These are the things that I like to think about on the first day of Lent.  Our first day of Lent, Ash Wednesday we had a mass led by Bishop Patrick Mc Grath.

I can only imagine how hot dog sales are or are not affected by land I do know that I feel somewhat obligated to stay away from such destruction.  Makes me remember when I used to be a vegetarian.  I had a joyful life dining on pastas, beans, legumes, and fresh vegetables.  So, I asked this man how often he sells his hot dogs in front of the cathedral.  He says he's there every week.  I told him my doctor forbids me to do business with him.

I can't pawn all of my decisions off on my doctors.  I do have to take some responsibility for the decisions I make.  The fact is my doctor really does want me to make some changes in the way I eat.  She was exceptionally compelling when she showed me my latest blood tests.  Once upon a time, I used to exercise a lot, eat well, and could celebrate the many liberties that come from just being younger.

I have to exercise greater caution at this point in my life knowing that heart disease runs in my family, and living in a wheelchair limits much of my opportunities to get regular aerobic exercise.  My latest health fixations have involved building strength, increased balance, gaining mobility in my left leg, and learning how to move safely around my room.  I feel this sense of betrayal that my doctor would be bothering me with discussions about low density lipoproteins and something called triglycerides.

I don't suppose there's anything wrong with the man selling bacon wrapped hot dogs in front of St. Joseph's Cathedral, even if he's leading man into temptation with this product line.  How I manage myself during the Lenten season I suppose is my own business.  Therefore, I shouldn't concern myself with how others are during Lent.  Between my blood work and this season of penitence, I have plenty of inspiration to live righteously.  Let's see how well we do.

Thank you for reading.