Thread: Personal Journal

Not sure if this will help. Not like these thoughtsmemories will decrease in volume or intensity. Nor will it change my physical distress. Heh... Guess I am just broken. Twas a year ago that I first entered that nursing home. Not even in my 40's and stuck there. First arrived with just the clothes on my back, a transfer board, my wheelchair, and a 10 lb weight. Folks there for the most part were nice enough, if not older than dirt. Most relaying what brought them to the point of giving up on the world in general or what was on TV that day. Only a few stood out, think it was due to them being within 20 years of my own age. Georgia, who was damaged due to a bullet to the head that left her somewhat retarded and unable to walk. All that aside her heart was larger than almost all I ever met and so sensitive that if she thought I raised my voice to her she would break down in tears. Still, she had no qualms about kicking like a mule if she was angered by someone. Rember that damn cold night sitting out front while they loaded her up and carted her off to that facility where they took violent patients. She looked so weak and vulnerable. That hospital bed being loaded into the back of that van. Had to restrain myself from wheeling over to them and demanding they put her back where she belonged... Instead I shed a few salt laiden tears and contined on. Cochren was another. God what a fella! Always sitting out there daynight, warmcold in that smoking area. Gave away more cigs than he smoked. Always taking the quips and comments with a laugh and snarky comment. Chuckles Maybe that was why he was a kindred soul? We were both smart asses that enjoyed picking on one another. Only twice did I ever get into an argument with him. Once over him allowing folks to take advantage of his kindness, and the other over his statement that we that were confined to wheelchairs were less capable than those damned two leggers. Even then my heart wasn't in it, just my pride and concern for one that I knew was a friend. He was the type that when his rolling machine was stolen did not even become remotely angry. Instead was saddened that someone would steal away a device he used to help so many. After all that the flashback of seeing him sitting against that wall, eyes closed while folks there tried to ignore him. Just gotten back from the hospital with that god awful cough. Coming up to him and tapping his foot with my hand, noting his breathing was shallow as if he were dozing, tryng to wake him with no success. Yelling for someone to help and the staff just ignoring me.. Finally grbbing the first one I could intercept and FORCING him to go check out my friend. The paramedics later on saying he had chosen the DNR on his medical files, so they did little more than lay him out until he passed. Would not even bother taking him to the hospital. Instead they moved his thin frame to an empty room and set it up so that his family could decide what to do with the now souless body. Least I got to say goodbye while they waited for those sparse relations to show up. There were others of course. Too many to count. In the year that I spent there I think I witnessed or knew of at least 17 people passing. Some were close, others were not. OF course they paled at times to me when it came to my own pity and circumstances. Always did I pride myself on emotional distance. Who would have thought that I was merely months away from buying wedding rings for myself and Vanessa? Vanessa, my blonde Godzilla. Remember when I first got there that she was hung up on that twit Jr. So haughty was he that when they broke up on a weekly basis he would slip off and begin making out with that N.A. Bertha. Didn't care all that much, I had Alicia to contend with. Only 10 years my senior and cute as hell. All that and being bat shit crazy to boot?! Aye. Ali was fun.. Least till she and I parted ways and she went off the deep end. Refusing her meds, not sleeping, talking to herself.. Worse still was the laughing for no reason to the point of wetting herself? Took them 2 montths to figure she needed a wee bit more than a firendly chat. Carted her off for more 'intense therapy', the kind where police arrived and put her in the back of one of their cars to ensure everyones safty. She came back to find myself and Nessa 'dating' as it were. Worse still was the fact of Nessa's insane jealousy. Not being out there in the smoking area, I had no idea that Nessa had physically knocked over the chair Ali was sitting in and began kicking her in the gut over some imaginary slight. Well, no idea until it was told to me later by one of the gossip squad. Knew she had issues with jealousy. Always trying to break up with me for being friendly with the staff or helping another resident. But she or I would later talk it out and prove it was a misunderstanding. Also I must admit to myself I knew of her cold streak. Like that time she took that injured bird into my room and hid it. Made me make a splint for its broken wing, only to snap its neck literally 3 days later when it was not healing fast enough for her tastes. In a lesser way it showed when she took my cellphone and decided to do a romp and stomp on it when she thought I was texting someone for a date. As if I was interested in going out, more still to the point wy would I do something that stupid with her sitting mere inches away? Haha! When I told dear mother that she smashed my phone when we were discussing what day might be good for a visit!?! 'Get rid of that crazy bitch dude!' How do I explain away keeping her in my life? Everyone thought she was bad news for me. They were right of course thoughlike all that are in abusive relationships, I kept making excuses for her. Remembering how she sweet talked a staff member into letting her on the PA system to sing me happy birthday all Monroe style or how she laid with me all those nights when she was not allowed to be in my bed by that self same staff. I felt as though I needed her. Even now, with what she finally did to me, I feel that way to some extent. Losing her just added to my own lacking sense of self worth. My body is broken, as is what I consider my heart, and though I know one of those two will mend.. I know not how or when. Now off to do those damned dishes. Know my room mate will hardly 'feel' like it. LEast with the heat in here I can be certain they will dry without my help. Yay for semi lazy ideas!