My Life in a Nutcracker

03/28/2010 at 2:51 pm (Personal Opinion)

I live in Ontario, Canada.  I use a power wheelchair to get around, due to several health issues.  My entire income comes from the Province’s Social Assistance system.  I’m capable of working, I’ve had skills, I’m intelligent.  The problem (or rather problems, to be accurate) is, I’m in a wheelchair (many employer’s office space are inaccessible, even though, legally, they’re suppose to be), I’ve been unemployed for a very long time (though not for lack of trying on my part) and I declared bankruptcy over a year ago (due to chronic unemployment).  Of course, it doesn’t help that every employer in this area feels compelled to run a credit check on me, discover my bankruptcy, and then make judgements regarding my character (or lack there of) and what type of employee I might make.

I tell you these things, my gentle readers, merely for perspective.  Not every poor person lack skills (or character).  I’m a writer.  I’ve written 2 complete novels (as I’ve mentioned earlier), and many many screen, radio, and stage plays, as well as more short stories, essays and articles, and poems than I can count.  Not to mention, I taught myself to program computer (as well as many other fun things to do with them).

My major complaint, the elected officials in this city, province, and country, vote themselves a 20% – 40% raises (not to mention allowing the price of everything, especially groceries, to rise by at least 10%) while only giving those of us on at the lowest point on the socio-economic totum pole, a raise of about 5% (and they celebrate with a $200 dinner.  If I’m lucky, I can afford to eat 2 meals a day for the whole month, pay my bills, and my rent.  I have to plan for the simplest things, like going to breakfast or a movie with a friend once a month.  LIFE SUCKS!

And I do ask myself, frequently, if it’s worth it.  And sometimes, I can only answer no.  I guess that makes me depressed.  Just like the fact that there are a great many days  that it’s too big a pain in the ass to actually get out of bed, get dressed, and do something, anything.  I’ve spent my whole life being good at solving problems.  And I just can’t come up with a solution to the problem my life has become.  And some days, I just don’t care that I can’t.  I use to think that my life would always be, at least, enjoyable.  And now, it’s more of a surprise when it is.

And that, gentle readers, is my bitch for today.

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The Scariest Night of My Life

03/20/2010 at 11:02 am (Uncategorized) ()

What follows is a diary (of sorts) I kept while in the hospital, back before Christmas 2009.

Wednesday, 2 December 2009    Day 1

It’s 8:45pm.  I’ve just been informed that I may very well have had a heart attack.  I was told such things were impossible with me nearly 30 years ago.  I can’t make plaque and if I could, the Arthrotec would desolve it.

So, I don’t know what to make of this…except that I’m scared shitless.

I’m here overnight, at least.  After that, who knows.

As it turned out, I had blood clots in my lungs.  It seems they’d migrated from my legs because of being in a wheelchair for nearly 5 years, smoking for more than 2 decades, and taking suplimental estrogen for nearly 2 decades.  No one with an M. D. was ever able to explain this, except to suggest that the blood cells sinply got sticky and stuck to each other clumping up.

*     *     *

Monday, 7 December 2009    Day 6 (entry #2)

5 days later…. I’m still alive…. Wow!  I feel more mortal than I have…ever.  To be honest, until Wednesday last week, I never actually felt truly mortal.  Knowledge of one’s mortality is truly (a) terrible thing!!!  I think in the “Garden of Eden”, the’ fruit’ came (from) the tree of (Knowledge of one’s) mortality.  Mortality, accepting one’s mortality, is the most terrible of all knowledge.  Knowledge of our mortality makes us fearful.  I HATE Being Fearful!!!!

*     *     *

Wednesday, 9 December 2009    Day 8 (entry# 3)

Questions…. Questions…. Questions.  Over the next year (10 – 12 months), I’m going to lose 200-225 lbs., walk again and get fit again, start writing again, learn everything there is to know about website design & programming and computer animation.  Basically, I need to change my life!  Including finding a way to earn a decent living (become self-reliant).

*     *     *

Saturday, 12 December 2009    Day 11 (Entry# 4)

I have to admit, I’m currently more concerned about the effects of the Warfarin, than I am about the clothing problem.

My major concern also, is the lack of access to my doctor (admitting/attending physician – rather than my family physician)).  I have questions that require answers from my doctor, and after waiting around for 2 days (Thursday & Friday) for him to appear, so that I can get the required answers.  So, how the hell do I get answers, if I’m not important enough for him to bother with.

On a good day, I believe doctors are an evil necessity.  Add to that, I HATE being ignored.  Basically, being in hospital, at the mercy of the whims of doctors, I was not having a good time!

*     *     *

Sunday, 13 December 2009    Day 12 (Entry# 5)

I finally saw the doctor.  Among other things, my transition is OVER.  So, that leaves me trapped in the middle!!!  He doesn’t want to help me lose weight…unless I want bariatric surgeryYet another MD who thinks the only way you get fat is by putting (large quantities) of food in your mouth and the ONLY way to lose it is to stop OVER-eating.  I just love ignorant doctors!!!  Life Sucks!!!  And now I’m very depressed!!!  So now, on top of everything else, I have to deal with the depression too!!!  FUCK!!!!  God, save me from ignorant doctors!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*     *     *

Monday, 14 December 2009    Day 13 (Entry# 6)

Well, I’m not going home today.  Maybe tomorrow.  This is rediculous.  The doctor’s waiting for my INR to get to the right percentage…and, according to Norman, it’ll take upwards of 3 months to get it (Warfarin) regulated at an appropriate level.  So, why the delay???  Oh well, it’s a pain in the ass but, what can I do.  If I want follow-up care, which I need, then I have to put up with their bullshit.

*     *     *

Saturday, 19 December 2009    Day 18 (Entry# 7)

Apparently, I’m going home today.  Wahooh!!!  We’ll see.

And after 18 days, I went home, without home care.  On the subject of home care, I finally got home care, after I developed cellulirous…again, I needed an IV line for…22…days.  And I discovered that the walls of my vascular structures are calcified, meaning no flexibility…because of a blood pressure medication.  Ain’t that lovely!!  At any rate, that’s how I spent my Christmas.

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