This is the spring that put Big Spring, Texas on the map. Indians would stop by on their way across the desert. I hope to find similar refreshment as I travel the deserts found in some of the lives I touch.


2/18/06 Saturday
It’s a bright sunny 5 degrees outside day. We plan on going to the home show this morning. I am doing well, running a 7 on the Bob scale. Decided to only take the 100 mg. pill instead of the 150 to see if that helps me with the alertness. I can still feel the affects though and am dopey. Don’t like it but if that’s what it takes to prevent seizure I reckon I don’t have a choice. I will be seeing the VA neurologist in May. If I can remember I will ask if there are options.

5:22 – It has been a long and kinda hard day. Cherie just went over to her parents house to do a little laundry but mostly to talk with them. We went to the home show and it was OK. There was lots of stuff and we did get a few ideas but mostly a ton of literature. We have lots of research to do. Of course this spurs the dream we have. Cherie has always wanted a home and now it is in her grasp. Of course for me it a dream renewed. When we first got married twenty years ago we, like all or most young couples dreamed of life together. That was rudely quashed when I fell out of a tree, resulting in another brain injury leading to our separation. Now, after my accident and coma, we are miraculously rejoined and, despite my disability, are able to build a life and home together. Brain injury tore us apart and brain injury brought us together.
At the home show we saw many possibilities for our home and after we went to the Erie St. Market. There we went through the antiques mall. I am constantly amazed at how similar our tastes are. I pointed at a large copper bin (or something, Don’t know what it’s called) and said I liked it and Cherie said “I was looking at that too”. Life is good and I am looking forward to what we will share together. We looked and imagined what we can do with the place. Of course there is always reality but we understand that. It’s OK to dream but there is the practical side of things. I already told Cherie that we will prioritize things. First order of business is to make the house safe and livable, taking care of essentials like water and power first. After that we will develop a plan on how to put our dreams together over the following years.
I want to go back into business but need to learn what I am capable of. I’m sure I’ll be fine as long as I design a business that allows me to work when I am cognizant and to take breaks during the slow times. No stress and no big rushes cause that triggers the slow downs. The VA has programs to help those with disabilities get back to work and for that matter so does the Federal and most state governments. It would be good to get my pride back in that arena. The other consideration is writing. I am constantly hearing how impressed some are with that and enjoy writing. Actually I write to help me think things through so it is like therapy. I love woodworking and am highly skilled at it and writing also fits the criteria of something I can do during the prime times so those are paths to consider. Don’t know squat about how to earn money as a writer so need to research that.
As we went through the antique mall another thing began to come out. I would be reminded of the many antiques I had in my old warehouse. I have no problem accepting the things I lost because of decisions made while in the severe depression, that’s done. But what is hard for me is the things that I have watched being looted out of that warehouse over the last few years and have been powerless too stop. I had asked for these things to be secured and even offered to pay for safe storage but River East, primarily Mary Ellen, refused to do so. Mary Ellen consistently lied and had told Holly that I took everything I wanted and the rest was up for grabs. I asked Holly to please call me if they were going to go through that stuff and throw it out. Cherie could tell I was getting sad as we shopped but didn’t understand I was also getting angry. Nobody can feel good about being crapped on again and again.
That affected the rest of the day. Fred called and asked if I could take Barb to cash her check and get some chicken that was on sale at Kroger. He knows that I have asked to not be bothered on weekends because that is time I like to spend with my wife. And he knew I was with Cherie. “Yeah Fred, I’ll take her but I’m not dropping everything to run out and do it now. I’ll go when Cherie and I are done” I told him.
When we picked up Barb I asked her why she called me on Saturday. She lied and that’s not a good thing to do with me. “I didn’t call” she protested, “Fred told me you’d take me”. I know better cause I’ve seen Barb’s constant manipulation and told her “Barb, that’s bullshit. You know you called Fred and got him to call me. I’ve told you before I spend my weekends with Cherie so don’t pull this crap again. Not if you want me to help you”. That shut her up. At Kroger I told her to get her chicken and get out quick. Cherie and I also got some chicken cause it was a good deal (ten pounds for $2.90) and we will give half of it to Wayne. Getting out to the car there was no Barb. After waiting for five minutes I went back in to look for her with no luck. We were parked right in front at the first handicap spot but Barb said she couldn’t find the car. By the time she showed I was fuming and let her know. I hate getting mad. It’s not a good thing for me to do. I got Barb home and dumped her off. Cherie noted how simple she was. I had told Cherie that Barb operates at a ten year old level because of her brain damage but she also lies and manipulates at a ten year old level.
I let Fred know I was not happy when we got back. Cherie got the mail and in it was a packet from the MS Society that was sent in response to a conversation I had with Susan there. This will be real helpful with my getting Wayne’s approval for Social Security. Some real good stuff I will read tomorrow because right now I am tiring and have pushed to get this entry written.
I just checked the blog and am again amazed at how the number of readers is growing. One was from San Antonio so I can hope it was my sister. I am a stranger to them all and it is my hope that through this blog they can get a picture of who I am. Not just a hope but a prayer. Whatever the past, it is the future I look to build and understanding is a good foundation to renew relationships on.
We were going to visit Eileen but when I called her daughter Suzie answered. Eileen is in bed sick and has one of her cluster headaches. I wish I could do more for her but can’t work miracles. Suzie said she didn’t want anyone’s help. I’m not sure what to make of that. All I know is she’s a good friend and wanting to help goes with that.
I need to break now. It is 7:43. A headache is there but not too bad.

Cherie just came home from her parents house. It always breaks her heart to see how things are falling apart and know there is nothing she can do because they won’t allow it. Another window was broken out. The back door again torn off it’s hinges, and the list just grows. Nate, the 6’ 5” three hundred pound grandson who lives in the home with his mom and brother, still has the run of the place. It’s trashed and he won’t do simple things they ask him to. Cherie came home and just cried. I know what needs to be done but haven’t the right or power to do it. This story will continue to it’s inevitable sad end and to sit and watch is hard. Any advice??

Goodnight.

Church and Injustice

2:56 – Headache is coming. Closed the blinds and took aspirin. Will hold off on the Zomig as I only have two left until the prescription I ordered a day or so ago comes. The cat is getting on my nerves with his incessant meowing. Wayne called to apologize for yesterday when I should have been apologizing to him. He realized he was whining and focusing on his problems and thanked me for setting him straight and opening his eyes. I guess I did good by accident.

Here’s a good example of jumping to a wrong conclusion. I looked out the window and saw two women take a bag of garbage to the dumpster in our parking lot. When they came back I saw one of them look at Fred’s car and walk over and kick it. OOH… I’M Pissed. I started to grab my coat but she was gone before I could get outside. I got her license plate and went out to check Fred’s car. There was no damage so I came back in and knocked on Fred’s door. “Did you see that blonde out side” I said, bridling with indignation. “Yeah Bob, she’s the cleaning lady. That was her and her daughter picking up trash from the lot” he replied with a curious look on his face as he wondered what had me riled. I said she kicked his car and he said “No, she just kicked something under the car they had missed”. Boy am I glad I was slow getting out the door cause I was hot and would have sure put my ass in my mouth.
Anyway I need to lay down. I turned the gentle Celtic music off and will most likely not watch TV. I checked the blog and noticed someone from Plano Texas looked at it. That’s not far from Paris Texas, where my ancestors had settled early in their arrival to Texas, at least I think so. Not real clear on that.
Unless I get better we won’t be going to the home show tonight. It’s 3:56 and the headache is increasing. On top of that is the loss of balance. I guess I will have to take a Zomig.

5:17 – Migraine still there and I am operating at a 6 on the Bob scale. Not good but not bad with a migraine. I talked to Virginia earlier today so want to write about that while it’s in my mind. I called her partly to discuss the probate on Lee’s will but also to see how she’s doing. We talked for quite a while. She was at work and had to put me on hold a couple of times, once hanging up by accident but she called back. She was to see her doctor this afternoon who evidently is not up to speed on her being in the hospital with an infection. I don’t know that for sure you know. Don’t always hear things right.
We talked about all kinds of stuff, much of which I can’t remember. Talked about the water problems in that part of Texas and she said there is a government agency running around and registering wells or something. The aquifers are drying up. There is an aquifer that is all salt water that there is discussion of creating desalination plants for. She had a well drilled on her place just a year or three ago and said it cost around $5,000. That was good to hear cause it will give us a ballpark for the well we need to drill at the farm.
We also talked about God. Virginia can tell from this blog that I have developed some serious issues in that area. This is partly from what we have been through with churches and church people as well as my personal experiences. I told her that while I would love to be a child of God I no longer want to use the term Christian because of the negative connotations that word now carries. If you go up to some one and say “I’m a Christian” there are instant walls they throw up in self defense. She told me of splinter groups in her area and how divisive they are. I’ve got other questions but won’t go into that now. I plan on a blog just for that subject.
Cherie just came home. I never know how slow I am till I have to talk with someone. Then it comes out. I kinda wish I could describe how I sound at these times. I heard this voice before when they had people on TV who had brain damage or were retarded. I don’t like that word but can’t think of another one that fits. For me these states just come and go. I can be sharp and lucid at one moment and then slow at another. I like to point out that I’m not stupid at slow times, just can’t process information as fast and get more emotional. My joke is that I am either the smartest dumb guy or the dumbest smart guy you will ever meet. It just depends on the moment you meet me.
What a small world and what another in this series of coincidences my life has been since I woke up. I told Cherie about Darlene Parish’s response to the E mail I sent out to everyone entitled “Keeping in touch”. She said she would like to invite us over one night. Cherie thought that would be real nice so we called. It took a moment for Darlene to recall this so we began to have a nice talk. Darlene is a woman I met at one of the MS luncheons who has a sweet spirit. She was there helping one of those with MS. As we talked she said she would like us to come over for one of her church home groups.
That was fine with me but it brought up some reservations. “What church do you go to?” I asked just to get an idea what I would be walking into. You never know. The phrase “Church group” can cover so many categories it is as innocuous as possible. They could be Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, Scientologists, Pentecostal snake handlers, and who knows what.
What I didn’t expect was her answer “You know, Cedar Creek”… BAM. The very same church that had caused the immense pain I was just talking to Virginia and writing about a couple of hours ago. My head was spinning as I heard myself telling Darlene that Cedar Creek had asked us to go somewhere else. Cherie was instant with her “I don’t want to go there”. This hurt was much deeper with her than me and it had torn me up so I can grasp what she was feeling.
Darlene started asking questions and expressed her disbelief that anyone higher up in the organization would do such a thing. She asked me “why” and I really didn’t have an answer. Nobody there really took the time to say why, hell they never took the time to talk with us with the exception of Lauri White whom I retain the deepest respect for. The rest just got together and passed sentence without my input at all. Kinda like being tried and convicted in absentia. As I struggled to answer her questions I realized that this would violate one of my principles, which is also a Biblical precept. That is to not cause divisions within the church, to not allow that kind of bitterness in so I backed off. Darlene was in the middle of getting dinner ready for her kids so I told her to just call back when it was more convenient. This will give me time to think, which is what I am doing as I write.
How do I approach this? What would be right? My doubts regarding God run deep now, triggered by what happened at the church we had looked to and loved. So I will follow the principles outlined in their Bible. It says that when you pray, if you know any man who has something against you, go to him and make it right. I used to think it said that if you had anything against a man go to him and ask forgiveness but was surprised one day to see how I had misread that.
Of course I can see how I did. It’s allot easier to go to someone you’ve got a problem with and say “Hey buddy, you done me wrong but I’ll forgive you”. That makes you the better man and you can pat yourself on the back and say “Look what I did”. But to go to someone who is upset at you, probably for some real or perceived wrong you did to him, and try to make that right is a lot harder, and requires humility.
So what do I do? There is a Bible study I had intended to write over a year ago before I was soured on all things Christian that I need to complete called the “Anatomy of judgment”. I wrote most of it in my head and have most of the scriptures so will now take the time because this has been thrown in front of me. It’s just that this brings up all the pain. When those you loved and trusted turn and stomp you into the ground you don’t want to revisit that memory much less actually visit them. Yet you want to bring darkness into the light, hopefully to prevent further harm to others. I will sleep on this.
I had forgotten to take my seizure pill this morning. I was pretty sharp most of the day. Just took one at 7:46 and it is hitting me now. I have to wonder if the pills are causing more problems than they fix. I had them get me off the first seizure pill because it doped me up but this Lamotrigine does also. When I forget to take it I have lots of energy. I still have slow downs but they are not as bad or as long.

I am again watching the show “Injustice” and it stirs my heart as it always will. There are too many kids I have seen sent up by the system, including myself, who should not have been. There was one in the Texas prison who I watched as he was “turned out” and traded like a cheap trinket. Sometimes I can remember his name. Not right now. He was a small kid who had been used by others to break into businesses by them lifting him up through windows they couldn’t fit through. He would then unlock the door to let them in. When it all fell apart the kid took the fall for them all, pushed into confessing by the police interrogators. He was a weak scared kid who wasn’t all there. I have known many like him who’s lives have been destroyed by unscrupulous justice officials ranging from police officers, prosecutors, and judges who were more interested in getting their numbers up than true justice. Sometimes it’s ambition, sometimes it’s laziness, sometimes it’s keeping the budget down, but always it is at the cost of innocence and truth. Good night. It's 11:30 at night. I just remembered the kids name. It was Wysong

Just wait. Something good can bloom out of any thorny situation. It's almost here.

2/17/06 Friday
I’m doing good this morning. Running a 9 on the Bob scale. As always I hope it lasts. The Mega Ball lottery is up to 146 million so I suppose I’ll buy a ticket. The Powerball is something like 350 million but I’d have to drive to Indiana to get one. Let’s see…120 million to one chance of winning…gas is $2.27 a gallon…I don’t think so.
Of course I could join the ranks of Christians who are praying and promising God all the good things they’d do if He makes them the winner. Then it would be a lottery with God, you know, who’s prayer He listens too out of the millions sent up. Fact is that kind of money destroys lives and would destroy most devout Christians because few can resist the temptations that come with wealth.
Now I have imagined, as I am sure most of us have done, what I would do if I won. I wouldn’t let others know I won or even that I had “money” because that changes how people treat you and brings out the leaches. If you don’t like me poor, why should you like me rich? I would start a non profit organization to help those who need help, like the ones I help now.
Wayne I would get housing for that’s not in “crack town” and a lawyer to get his disability from Social Security. Barb would be a bit harder. I would also like to put her in a better environment but that doesn’t make a difference if she chooses to continue her relationship with the users around her. Everyone needs friends and you can’t expect her to give up her’s so what do you do?
A couple or three years ago I wrote up a plan that stemmed from the time I wandered an the streets and experienced poverty at a level few can truly comprehend. I called this “The Dream”. It addresses the issues that are at the core of poverty and is, at least in my mind, a long term plan that can circumvent the cycle that keeps the poor, poor. How does it do this? By creating a sense of community and pride.
When I was in St. Louis I was housed in a gang banger area where crack was sold at every street corner. As is usual it was riddled with boarded up buildings, both residential and commercial. My thought was to teach some of these kids skilled trades like plumbing, electrical, and construction through renovating these buildings. Then setting them up in business’s housed in these buildings as well as augmenting home ownership. These people would be positive role models where the only other sign of success was the dope man in his Beemer with the fancy wheels. Plus, if you fixed it up or built it you would frown on someone defacing it. There’s the pride. “Hey man, don’t you mess up my place”. These areas are close knit communities where everyone knows who’s kid is who. This pride in your community is infectious and has a degree of peer pressure cause “you know his mama”. Everyone wants to be somebody, to be looked up to so just change the focus. Instead of impressing folks with how bad you are or how much money you made selling dope, impress them with success.

I just got back from meeting with Jeff. This is prime time for me. I am operating at a 9 or 10 on the Bob scale. I hope, as I always do, that this level of cognizance will remain but must face reality. It won’t. But I will make as much use of it as I can. With Jeff I did most of the talking and told him of Texas prison. How I picked cotton, chopped with a hoe till my hands were slipping on my blood, how the guards would have us fight, how they would beat us, and what it was like when the supreme court ordered desegregation. That was wild. In the criminal arena of racist Texas they threw us together. Not pretty. Jeff had lost my Blog address so I gave it to him again and told him to check out the “Timeline” by typing it into the blog search engine at the top of the blog. This just barely gives a skeletal look at the life I have lived.

12:05 – This sucks. I was doing so well. Just sent out tons of E mails to those I haven’t been in touch with and it was a bit of a chore as I had to figure out who’s addresses weren’t right. Now my ears are ringing and I am slowing down. Running about a 6 on the Bob scale but getting worse. Cherie called me about going to the home show. We had talked about it earlier because we will actually have a home in Texas. I was going to Andersons and see about discounted tickets. Probably should go quick cause may not be good to drive soon. Maybe I shouldn’t go anywhere.
I went anyway. Got $20 out of the ATM and bought a lottery ticket. Then I ran to Andersons for the home show tickets. I thought I would look around but couldn’t. Too mush stuff for me when I am slow. Walked to the first isle, which was plumbing, and quickly knew I couldn’t do this so came home where I will stay quiet with the hope I am able to go to the show. It’s for the whole weekend so if I don’t make it tonight I will later. Right now I will wash dishes and play the rest of the day by ear.

2/16/06 Thursday
I’m doing better. The fever broke last night. Just changed all the sheets as everything was soaking wet. I am tired but have a busy day. Today I take Wayne to the MS luncheon. We’ve missed the last one so I want to make sure to get him there today. That may be tough as Fred wants to go to the store and after all it’s his car I drive while Cherie is at work. Better give him a call. Gonna hit the shower now to clean up from a night of sweating.
I’m getting more and more hits on the blog and some regular readers. This MapStats thing is cool. http://mapstats.blogflux.com/13230.html It lets me know who is looking at my site and where they are from. So far the Netherlands is the farthest out I have reached.
It’s almost 10:00. I will take Wayne to his luncheon first and then to get some groceries. Fred said he would go to the store after and that Barb may get her check today so we could get her some food also. I am tired. Running about a 6 on the Bob scale. Ordered my medicine refills from the VA online. That was confusing today. Didn’t know which was which because they just used numbers instead of saying the name of the pills so I ordered them all. Mostly I need the migraine stuff.
I probably should fix something to eat. Only had a bowl of cereal yesterday. I don’t feel the sensation of hunger because of the brain injury but I can hear my stomach making lots of noise.
Just got back from taking everyone around. I am exhausted. I got Wayne to the store and Fred called. He said Barb got her check so I picked her up, took her to get it cashed and then to buy groceries. Had a hard time when I was with Fred at the grocery store. The leg wasn’t working and the disorientation was bad. Wasn’t sure if I would make it. Getting back to the house I took his groceries up and then we ran over to Tom’s Marathon to get Fred’s tire looked at. Tom was manning the station alone so asked if I could help. “Sure” I said. Taking the tire off I found the problem. It was a piece of metal we probably picked up when we took Barb to the scrap yard to turn in her beer cans for the average five bucks she gets. Tom showed me how so I put a plug in the tire. It was hard for me to do because I am still pretty weak. I’ll have to write more when I feel stronger. Need to rest.

I guess this fever took more out of me than I thought. My tolerance for crap was at an all time low. Got mad at Wayne because of his constant “I’m sorry” stuff. When I told him to quit it he said he wouldn’t. Wrong answer. “If you don’t quit your whiny ass crap then your going to hear it from me” I yelled at him and went off. I know he is depressed but will not allow him to keep that stinking thinking going. He has to learn that he has the power to choose how to think. I told him that instead of focusing on how bad he’s got it and what he can no longer do he needs to think about what he can do. That’s one of the reasons I take him to the MS luncheon. The people there are in far worse shape than he is but still keep going and positive.
The luncheon, by the way, was not today. They had rescheduled it for next Thursday but we didn’t know that. I just put it in the calendar to make sure it happens.
We just got a copy of the will and notification of when the probate hearing will be held. It will be on the 27th and that will be tough. I get my pension check on the first of the month and we had drained our savings when we went to Texas for my grandmother’s funeral. I literally can’t afford the gas to go there at that date. Two days later and it would have been fine. Time to do some figuring out.

Just checked MapStats and see that my brother Larry looked at my blog at 4:14. Wonder what he thinks about it, for that matter I wonder what he thinks in general. I am still not doing good. There was blood in the toilette the last time I went. I’ll have to keep an eye on that potential problem. (Sorry to the readers out there. This journal also allows me to document medical issues for the doctors because I won’t remember when I see them so unpleasant details like this will be there)

It’s 8:20. I think I must call it a day. Real tired. Good night all.
No wait. Here's something my son in Iraq sent me that I thought was neat so will share with the world (You know, the small world of those who read this)
A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly
jar from its hiding place in the closet.
She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully.
Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.
She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention
but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!
"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of
voice. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question.
"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in
the same annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick... and I want to buy a
miracle."
"I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.
"His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head
And my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a
Miracle cost?"
"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help
you," the pharmacist said, softening a little.
"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will
Get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs."
The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and
asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"
"I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know
he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money."
"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago.
"One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly.
"And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need
to."
"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven
cents---the exact price of a miracle for little brothers. "
He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her
mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your
brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need."
That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon,
Specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Andrew was home again and doing well.
Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had
Led them to this place.
That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how
Much it would have cost?"
Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...one dollar
And eleven cents .... plus the faith of a little child..

2/15/06 Wednesday
I’m sick. Did not sleep at all last night and was using the bathroom every hour. Don’t know what I got but I’m crapping green fluid. This is the wrong time to fart. I couldn’t get warm no matter how deep I burrowed under the covers. I figured that if you were running a fever you’d feel hot and sweaty. I got the sweaty part down pat. When I took my temperature it was 100. I took it again twenty minutes later and it was 98.7. Just took it again and I’m back up to 100. I called Fred to let him know it wouldn’t be a good idea to go shopping. The last thing his 87 year old self needs is to get sick. I’ll call Allen later. He’s just out of luck. Headache is on the way to visit. Will take the full regimen of pills to hopefully slam the door in it’s face. Drinking lots of orange juice cause I got rid of a few gallons of fluids last night.
I think this is settling down, haven’t had to run to the bathroom and the fever is down to 98.8. Of course I have one of those migraines that put me away. Can’t believe I can’t sleep. Didn’t sleep a wink last night. Not too fast, not too slow, running about a 6 on the Bob scale. Briefly went on line but this migraine made even that rough. Cherie called to check up on me. She’s a sweet heart.
2:30 – I haven’t had a migraine like this in a while. Still non functional. I tried the TV but can’t even stand the noise with volume turned as low as it will go. I even took the Darvaset Wayne gave me for this. That’s strong stuff and didn’t phase it. At least the muscle cramps in my feet went away. I just forced myself to eat a bowl of cereal. Now it’s back under covers time.
2:45 – My temperature is back up to 100.2.
7:00 – Still sick. The migraine is gone at least. Fred, Wayne, and Allen have all called. Wayne needs food, Allen is just sucking up, Fred is genuinely concerned. I’ve been in bed all day and am going back there. Hope I’m doing better tomorrow.

2/14/06 Tuesday
Last night was rough but I am sharp this morning. I’ve been studying how to do things on my blogs like RSS and HTML. I’ve done this before but have to repeat it till it stays. That’s providing I get to where I understand what I read. If I was a ten year old kid I’d probably have it all down pat. It would seem that my audience is growing. I am getting more hits every day from new sources. Allot of the new ones are from California. With a growing audience I have a growing sense of responsibility. Not just to make things understandable for those who wander into this blog but to try and convey the wonder of this new life and the values that have enhanced it. I must get back on building my website.
I wrote the timeline to give you guys an idea of the life I have lived. One of the things I am trying to learn is better ways for visitors to navigate this blog and find key entries such as the timeline and the Love Story I will put on today. (Or at least try to) I’ve seen on other blogs words that are highlighted you can click on and it takes you to a place related to the subject. I’m sure it’s easy to do but I get confused and also forget easy.
Today is Valentines day. For Cherie and I it is just another day because every day is Valentines day with us.
I took my pill at 7:00 this morning and now, at 9:00, my head is doing that dizzy thing and the right ear is ringing. I am now pretty sure it is the medication and should only last an hour but my partial seizures often start the same way. It don’t matter. I push on no matter what and make as much use of the cognizant times as I can. I’m alive and I’m blessed so love every good moment.
One of the things I heard somewhere that I tell myself and others and helps keep things in perspective is this. “I used to complain about having no shoes till I met a man with no feet”. I have met so many others who’s brain injuries are way worse than mine but they keep plugging away. For that matter the folks with MS I met through taking Wayne to their luncheon put me to shame. It is incredible to see their spirit. My life is a direct result of decisions I made and I accept that. I did this to me. Their disease is not and they still live life with as much vigor as they can.

It’s 10:00. I did slow down. Had difficulty cooking the omelet I just made. Would be holding the skillet in my hand and get confused what to do with it. Basic decision making is hard at these times. I used to pay money to put myself in this condition. Kind of like being stoned or drunk with out the feel good part.
This ones a doozy. One of the real physical ones. If I closed my eyes I would fall over. The partial paralysis is more evident. I can write OK and am mentally running about a 5 which ain’t bad all things considered. Just the decision making part is rough. This is one of the weird things with these partial seizures. They seem to affect different parts of the brain at different times.

I just installed a blogging program I saw when I went to do something I don’t remember. Probably shouldn’t have while I am in this state. I thought it was free but it’s a 30 day trial. I make lots of mistakes when slow. The slow down is getting worse. It was hard to get to the bathroom because I really had to concentrate to make my right leg move where I wanted. Headache is coming.

It is 1:54 now and I am doing much better. I just called Allen. He’s all depressed because I wouldn’t come over yesterday. His mental confusion was illustrated when, during the conversation he said that we didn’t talk yesterday. “We didn’t talk yesterday, You were supposed to come over and help me fill out this form, remember” he said in response to me asking if he took it in. I reminded him he had called me yesterday and wanted me to come over and do some work.
I just went back and checked my journal and Allen was right. He had called me Friday, not Monday. This is why I keep a journal. I can remember something happening but this brain is unable to put a time stamp on it. In my mind we had this conversation yesterday. It’s embarrassing. Here I am trying to help others when I get lost myself. I’ll keep trying. One of the things I was taught at the brain injury place in St. Louis is to schedule everything. If it’s not written down it won’t happen.
Anyway, I explained again to Allen that I would not be around until he did the things I had outlined to get some help. He tried his little guilt trip thing but it doesn’t work. I reminded him of my creed “Say what you mean and do what you say”. “Allen, I’ll bust my ass to help you but won’t come around till you get help” I told him. That was the end of the conversation.
I just vacuumed with the new sweeper I bought yesterday. The Singer vacuum had died last week or sometime. Cherie took it in to get fixed and it would cost more than it’s worth. She had picked out one she liked and came home to check with me as we always do with financial decisions. She wasn’t able to get back before they closed. She was worrying about getting it today because we are going to meet at the YMCA after she gets off work. I said I could do it. I have been trying for two years to get her to ask me to do things like this. She keeps putting it all on her shoulders. I know I’ve got problems but I’m not helpless.
It is 3:00. My head is still thick. Just a mild headache. That’s fine with me. I can deal with that and have learned to live with pain since I woke up. Just don’t want one of the migraines.
Allen just called back. It’s working. He is doing the things he needs to get help. At least he is starting to. It will be hard for him, especially in the state of Ohio where funding for social services place this state as the 8th worst in the nation. I will do what I can. Allen practically begged me to come over and help him. I told him I would give him one day but it would have to be on my schedule. “How early can you get up tomorrow Allen?’ I asked him. We settled on 10:00. I’ll have to call him to make sure he is up.
I’ve been working on the love story and it is hard for me to go back to the divorce twenty years ago. Still hurts. But I know the story has a happy ending. I may or may not get it done in time to publish it today.

Cherie and I made it to the Y and worked out. I hope to make this a routine. It’s nearly 10:00 now. We are both tired so I’ll call it a day. Goodnight

Valentines day

For Cherie and I every day is Valentines day. We don't do any thing different today. Just love each other. I carved this for her two years ago.

That says it all. If you can't read it here's what it says. As the line on my Celtic heart has no end so is my love for you. Happy Valentines day everyone. May your love be full and your hearts filled with joy. Bob and Cherie

Abreviated timeline of the life of Bob

This just scratches the surface.

Born on Webb Air Force Base in Big Spring, Texas. My father was a fighter pilot and my mother the local beauty. Their marriage was rocky to put it mildly with a divorce, remarriage and another divorce.

My fathers mother purchased my brother and I from mom. Dad went to Korea where he became an ace in the war.

Grandma couldn’t handle us and was sick so dad had to take us. I had called my grandmother Mama. She was mom to us, the first person I remember, the first one who showed us love. This stranger shows up and I am told this is my dad and my new mom and he took me away from Mama.

Dad was strict and beatings (spankings?) were regular. I was angry and couldn’t get along. We moved to Dayton where I was kicked out of kindergarten. Then we moved to Spain. Then we moved to England. Then we moved to Florida. Then we moved to San Antonio, Texas. There were never any real friends. I was the kid everyone picked on. I was always the one nobody wanted on their team.

At fourteen I took my first swing back at dad while being beaten again. That night I ran away from home, breaking into the high school where I lived while still attending class.

I was sent to live with my other grandmother back in the town I was born. There nobody knew me and I wasn’t chased and beaten like I had been in every other school I had attended.

I found a group who accepted me and had friends for the first time in my life. Unfortunately they were the “wrong” crowd but I worked to fit in. I smoked pot for the first time, I got drunk for the first time. Not wanting to be a virgin anymore (I never had a girl friend till I met my first wife)I went to the building downtown everyone in Big Spring knew was the whore house and had a not to memorable experience.

I still had no social skills but kept up an image of the wild James Dean type. I did more and more things to impress everyone that I was cool. Drugs and drinking were a central part of that. Stealing a car because I was drunk and didn’t want to walk home I was arrested. The judge gave me a choice. Go to prison or join the military.

On my seventeenth birthday I was taken from the jail and put on a bus for basic training in the Air Force. There my rebellion continued and I was set back to another class until I finally completed basic training.

Upon graduation I was sent to be trained as a crew chief on B-52 aircraft. I continued my drug use and was exhibiting extreme rebellion against all authority. After a year of this and with the end of the Vietnam war I was given an honorable discharge and told to go away.

I returned to Big Spring, jumping back into the drug crowd. I sold drugs and committed petty crimes until I was caught selling ground up aspirin as cocaine. This resulted in a sentence of ten years probation.

I quickly violated this probation by getting caught with a joint and entered the Texas prison system at nineteen. This was a violent wake up call. I became involved with a program called Operation Kick It” where I was taken under armed guard to high schools and civic organizations such as the Rotary Club. There I would tell my story to show kids the consequences of poor decision making.

This gave life meaning so, wishing to continue doing positive things I enrolled in Bible college upon my release from prison. There I fell in love for the first time and married the love of my life.

Graduating and receiving my ordination we moved to Toledo, my wife’s home town. There things were tough as we both tried to learn how to be married and survive.

In 1981 I fell out of a tree, breaking my neck and back and sustaining a concussion. This resulted in a drastic personality change, which no one, including the doctors, could explain. This resulted in our divorce which tore our hearts out.

The wife of a friend made advances while the divorce was in process. Alone and heartbroken I foolishly became involved. She divorced her husband and moved in with her two children. I resigned my positions in the church and married her to make things right. This was a big mistake. I should have taken a clue from her infidelity with her first husband but had to learn the hard way.

The next seventeen years were a yo yo of me leaving and coming back with her finding male companionship every time. I did desperate things to feed the kids but finally started two companies which were successful.

My drinking and drug use escalated. One night I broke into a fireworks stand and passed out on the fireworks I had piled up in the parking lot. I was sent back to prison with a two to ten year sentence. I stopped drinking and using drugs at this point.

Upon my release from prison I rebuilt both companies from scratch and renewed my relationship with Barb, the second wife. This was again rocky but I tried for the kids I loved. As the business grew it took more and more of my time till I was working eighty plus hours a week. This didn’t help things at home. I caught Barb having sex in the parking lot of the mall she worked at so I moved out of the house into my warehouse.

There I began a slide into madness fueled by extreme depression, drugs and alcohol, and a year long bitter divorce. Set up by an employee I had caught stealing I was convicted of receiving stolen goods, a felony. By this time I was delusional, hallucinating, and suicidal.

I left town, running from my conviction and wanting to return to my home town in Texas. I didn’t make it. Falling asleep in Oklahoma while driving I was flung from the car as it rolled at eighty miles an hour. I was pronounced dead at the scene but revived by the medics.

I was in a coma for a month and woke up with a traumatic brain injury and amnesia. My brother showed up and took me to St Louis where I eventually found my way to a brain injury rehab center. Just when I started getting the badly needed medical help I was extradited back to Toledo because I had violated my probation by being in a coma and not reporting.

The courts recognized I was in bad shape so simply continued my probation put me out on the street. At this time I did not recognize the streets I had driven for 25 years. I wandered around homeless looking for anything familiar and researching who I was at the library. As I worked to recover my memory the local ABC television station heard about me and ran a story, calling me Toledo’s John Doe.

Friends I knew I had but couldn’t remember came forward to help. This got me off the streets and greatly reduced my stress. Stress is debilitating for those with brain injury and in my case rendered me nonfunctional. Now I was able to work on getting my life together.

One of those who saw the TV show was my first wife. She called in to help. Meeting for the first time in twenty years we realized we had never stopped loving each other and remarried June 20 2004. She helps me with my disability.

This is a quick timeline which barely covers the life I have lived. I wrote this to help give a dim understanding to the growing number of those interested. There are many blanks which will be filled in when or if I ever get my books written.

Our first wedding. 1979. There are no pictures of the second one which was done in a pastors office when we had just gone in to talk.

2/13/06 Monday
I’m going to take Fred to get his haircut this morning and I now get mine there also. Makes sense. Why just sit around while he gets his cut. The phone rang about nine this morning. I thought it would be Fred, reminding me of the haircut but to my surprise it was Allen. I hoped he was calling to tell me he had filled out the forms and was going to Family Services but he wasn’t. “Are you busy?” he asked and I told him I was taking Fred to the barber. “What about tomorrow?” was his response and I knew what was up. “Allen I don’t have anything scheduled all week. What do you want?”. “Can you come over and help me do some work?” he replied with a question. I kept it simple “No”. Now started the “why not” sequence. Allen said “You said this was about trust. I already apologized to you. Besides what about the $80. Are you just going to walk away and not do anything?”. This was in reference to a gift he made to me that was worth maybe $80 and had later asked me to sell and give him the money. This started the whole thing and was the violation of trust referred to. Because I knew he did this so he could get money to buy more pills I told him I would no longer come around until he got the help he needed.
I just talked to Holly at River East. She is about the only one there who was not tainted by the stories Joe Pena had been spreading about me to cover what he and his friend Melvin were doing. Stories are more believable when part of them are true. I sure wasn’t acting in a way that would show otherwise. I was a mental case by the end of things at River East. I wasn’t a thief and didn’t need to steal because I had gotten a $60,000 second mortgage but I did blow through that quickly. In fact that contributed greatly to my slide into madness for it allowed me to buy as many drugs as I could pump into my system. There is no question that my severe depression had gotten to the point I no longer cared to live and was actively destroying everything I was proud of. This on top of the brain injury which had happened at the beginning of all these problems.
Enough already. I’ve written on this before. Holly said she will present my letter too the board when they next meet. I told her about more stuff disappearing and reminded her again that I had offered to pay for safe storage before. Of course this was to Mary Ellen who did nothing about it. Perhaps because I have evidence she profited from selling off my stuff. Holly mentioned again that she was told I had signed a letter giving everything to River East. Of course no seems to be able to find it but it wouldn’t surprise me if I did. Nothing mattered to me by the end. I do have to wonder if any of the money they made selling my stuff was applied to my debt. There are several I interviewed who paid a decent amount of money for what Joe had sold them. I have considered filing criminal charges against Joe or legal action to recover my personal possessions but that would be stupid. I can document some stuff but it’s all gone anyway. I need to move forward, not look back. I’ve done what I could to atone for my past mistakes.
I stopped by to see Wayne and make sure he had everything he needed. I visited a bit and talked him into playing a game of checkers which I made sure he won to build up his self esteem. It’s 4:00 and I am wearing down. Probably need to take my afternoon nap. It will always frustrate me to not be able to keep going like I used to. It is like I am eighty years old. Hard not to get depressed. I am slowing down now.

Still haven't worked on this for a while. Tried the other day but couldn't deal with it.

2/12/06 Sunday
It’s 10:30. I woke up at about seven this morning. Had dreams about heroin with me trying to score. Not at all pleasant especially considering I had been an addict during my slide to madness five years ago. I took my seizure pill about an hour ago and am now getting tired. Was researching what is available out in the West Texas desert where we will be moving. When it comes to high speed internet access there’s not much. Many of the cell phone companies don’t have much coverage. Gee! What happened to “Can you hear me now” Verizon? It looks like we may have to go satellite for that.
I’ve got lots to learn and learning is tough with this brain injury. It’s not impossible, just takes twice as much work. I learn then forget so learn it again and repeat the process till it stays. Then I have to refresh it later. Now when I talk to others about these difficulties they say “What’s the big deal? That’s true for us also. We all have the same problem”. I have sensed that some think that I am just using this as an excuse or a tool to gain sympathy. I know we have all gone into a room and forget why we went there.
I know that as we age these mental problems get worse. This judgment by others is one of the reasons I stay out of society. It is safer at home. Rejection and this disdain hurt. My house has several books I bought with great interest in reading. I would start them and mark my place so I could continue where I left off. But when I did I would be lost. I couldn’t remember what I had read before. The characters were strangers to me so I would have to start from the beginning again. After doing this several times I would give up and park the book on a shelf, where it remains to this day. I quit buying books. This is frustrating because I was an avid reader who would consume several books a week and retain what I read.
I’m not dumb as I hope my writing shows, I just forget and go through daily periods of confusion, what I call slow downs. My joke is that I am either the dumbest smart person or the smartest dumb person you will ever meet. It just depends on when you meet me. Humor is something I cling to for it reduces the sting and helps fight the depression that clamors at the door. No matter what I am blessed and my life is a gift. I have met many others with traumatic brain injuries who are in far worse shape than I. This helps keep things in perspective.
It also helps to find the bright side of every problem. There are advantages of having this severe short term memory loss
It’s 11:00 now. The headache is growing. I am grumpy and slowing down so I will lay down now.
1:33 – Now I am running at about an 8 of even 9 on the Bob scale. That’s the way it is. Like being a Yo Yo. (Alright, quit laughing. I’m not the yo yo, my brain just acts like one) Like I was saying a couple of hours ago, it helps to find the bright side of every problem. There are blessings that come with having this severe short term memory loss.
Here’s one of those blessings. We were just watching the movie “Die Hard, With A Vengeance” starring Bruce Willis. Now I know I have seen this movie several times in my life but I don’t remember most of it. Because I want to help people understand TBI (traumatic brain injury) better I will go into a little detail on this.
For me memory loss is not like the amnesia portrayed in movies or on TV. It is not like the slate has been wiped clean. When I woke up from the coma I could remember my home phone number but not my address. The description that seems to best describe that is this. Imagine your memory as being a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle. Someone comes along and snatches up handfuls of the pieces. They throw some of them back on the board so they are scattered haphazardly around. Then they throw the rest out. I have many bits and pieces of memories and have been spending the last four years finding the right places to put them. Done a good job of that. Many of the holes have been filled in. Now that is the long term memories.
Medical science recognizes several areas of memory. There is long term, short term, and immediate memory. That is a very simplified version. Different parts of the brain handle these different areas of memory. Hell, while I’m giving lessons I will touch on some more of it. Memory is not just recalling events, places, and details like names. This complex computer we call our brain records every little thing and stores it in many compartments. It coordinates the retrieval of this information to assist us with every decision and judgment we make. These memories include the emotions tagged with events, the smells, the tastes, the sounds, the joy, the pain, and things we don’t even realize when they are happening.
I digress again, as I am prone to do. Short term memory loss means I get to watch the same movie over and over again as if it is for the first time. With the movie “Die Hard” I recognized things like the dump trucks but didn’t know what they were used for. I still was surprised at every turn despite detecting a dim familiarity about it. When I saw the Wizard of Oz I knew most of it but was surprised when they sang. Cherie and I have seen many movies together and when they come on a year later I would be telling her how I liked this movie. “Honey, we saw this last year” she would say. Eventually the movies stay.
Our Sunni Moslem neighbor, Ahmed, just knocked on our door and gave us another gift of sweets from his native land, Lebanon. Cherie had an observation that really resounded. She said that his kindness far exceeds that of the Christians we have known. In fact he puts most of them to shame. Now I have some serious misgivings about his beliefs regarding Jews and the world but I have to say this. At least he practices what he believes. For that matter so do Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mormons, and many other religious types. I know there are many Christians who also do so but haven’t seen too many of them. We have been judged and rejected by those we turned to for fellowship and help. They talk of love but practice it only when it’s convenient or it fits their social group. You know, when it makes them look good.
Enough on that. I need to get my other blog up and running. I will call it Balaam’s Ass, based on the biblical story of the donkey that spoke to the prophet Balaam. I figure if God could use a donkey to talk to his people he could use me. I have some serious questions about God, serious doubts, and real problems with what I see in the church today, for that matter with the whole history of Christianity. I met Cherie in Bible College as I studied for the ministry and know the Bible better than most so the blog should be interesting.
Something else I wanted to cover today. This Map Stats program I have on the blog is really cool. The farthest away I have attracted readership is in the Netherlands. Wow! There is someone in Castalia Ohio who seems to be a daily reader and I am most curious about them. Feel free to E mail me if you’d like. (That goes for anyone out there) The E mail address is listed on the description at the top of the blog. It is bobcarver2@yahoo.com. I don’t go out much socially, sticking to a few friends I feel safe with. This is for two basic reasons. It is embarrassing for me to go through a slow down in public where others can see me. The other reason is the deep pain my wife and I have experienced. This was mostly at the hands of those who professed to have the “love of Christ”. You know, it has been said that Christians are the only ones who shoot their wounded. Now a cowboy will shoot his horse if it breaks a leg but this is an act of mercy to prevent the horse from enduring a life of pain. He will feel real bad and even cry when he does so but Christians will gossip and justify their actions, proud to point out the failings of the victim.
I E mailed Bruce and he replied. This always makes me feel good. I also E mailed Adam but I’ve never gotten a reply from him. Now that I realize there are others around the world reading this I need to explain things. Bruce and Adam are the two boys who came with the second wife. I raised them from the time they were four and five years old. Bruce is the oldest and is in Iraq right now. He is a MP in the guard and a deputy sheriff working at the county jail here in Toledo. I am proud of both of them and love them much. Unfortunately the bitter divorce and my slide into madness has caused problems with our relationship. Bruce seems less affected but Adam is quite distant.

6:14 – It’s another partial seizure. A slow down. I have different kinds. This one is the ears ringing head spinning one that comes on fast. It comes with a headache. I took my second pill. Will probably fall asleep or something. Hard to write.

8:01 – That was a quick one. Two hours later and I am sharp again. I really wish they could get me medication that would stabilize this. That is doubtful. All of my medical comes from the VA. I am grateful as a veteran for the help the Veterans Administration gives me. Without them things would have been allot worse. Unfortunately our government has been cutting the VA’s funds for years. Now that we are at war in Iraq and our soldiers are coming home with serious injuries (with brain injuries the most prevalent) Bush just cut more funding. I just watched 60 Minutes where they exposed billions of dollars of fraud and waste in Iraq. No money for our kids who are dying but plenty for Bush and Cheney’s cronies and republican suck ups. War is good business for those who are in the right place.

Our first first wedding in 1979. Still in college, still had hair. Now, despite not seeing each other for twenty years, we are still in love. Too cool.

2/11/06 Saturday
I’m doing good this morning. As you can see from yesterdays entry it got rough towards the end of the day. Cherie fixed some scrambled eggs and English muffins this morning. I took my pill about an hour ago and now am slowing down and getting tired. This is a pattern, my slowing down an hour after taking the seizure medicine. The other day when I was awake and the mind was alert all night I had forgotten to take the evening pill. It makes me wonder if I would be better off without it but there is the fear of another grand mal seizure. I so enjoy and desire the times of clarity when this brain operates at it’s former (before the accident) level I almost want to risk not taking this medicine. The first pill the gave me (Delantin) zombied me out so they switched me to this. Perhaps there is something else. I don’t see the neurologist till April or May. I think I will lay down and rest. It’s only 9:00 in the morning, this sucks.

It is 1:42 already. I said down for about two hours and got up when I heard Cherie being distressed. She was having the chest pains again and the anxiety that goes with it. The last time this cost us $2000 because I insisted she go to the hospital and we had no insurance. There we were told she had nothing serious going wrong. I worked to cheer her up and eventually she did and the pain left with that.
We loved each other as we do every day and I tell her how beautiful she is. Last night I had a thought as I sat on the toilet (Where I do some of my best thinking) Yelling out from the bathroom I said “Do you know what a symbiotic relationship is?”. “No” she answered “What is it”. “It’s where two life forms need each other and help each other survive. You know it’s like the bacteria you have in your stomach. Without it you can’t digest some food and without us it can’t survive.” (How romantic is that!) “That’s us” she said and it is true. I was wandering lost with this brain injury that incapacitated me because stress freezes my brain up and Cherie had given up on having a life, damaged by twenty years of pain that began with our divorce.
Now we support each other and have life. There is allot of meaning to be found in the word “Life”. We have joy, we are complete, we are one, and if we didn’t have each other we would just be empty shells existing day to day. Cherie just left to do laundry and hearing her keys I did what has become a routine. Rushing up I spread my arms wide and said “Kiss”. She laughed and gave me that smile that just moves my heart. As I held her face, looking at her eyes and everything, I told her again how much I loved her and how I was still amazed to hold her in my arms after twenty years of absence. I started to cry again and she said “Now you better stop cause I’m going to cry too”. “You know Cherie, we’ve been married for two years now and it’s like the first day. I’ve known couples who’s marriage has become just two people existing together. I think we will be like this forever.” I told her.

I am struggling again to do things. It is a constant battle to remember what I did and didn’t get done. I know I registered the Walked with Angels blog with Blogflux and think I did so with the What about Bob blog but don’t know. This is normal confusion for me. I think I will break and do some of the carving I have neglected for so long. Besides, sitting at this computer is painful after a while.
2:52 - I am slowing down a little. Some of these are a result of the mental fatigue that comes with this injury. That is why I must take naps during the day. It’s not all days just some. I detect the beginnings of a headache. If I am lucky it will be just an everyday headache like normal people get. We’ll see.
4:54 – This is hard. I got the blanket spread out, lights set up, and got out my tools to carve. This is something I love, something that reduces my stress, something I am good at. But I couldn’t. Not even simple cuts. I am down to a 3 on the Bob scale. Had a hard time spelling the words in this paragraph. It’s not a fatigue slow down. It’s another partial seizure. How can I stay positive. Time to hide in bed. Probably won’t even watch TV.

7:45 – I’m better now. On top of everything I’m kinda depressed. It is hard to continue to see what little I had left at River East still being stolen and not be able to do a thing about it. The top of the mahogany table I had been making for the attorney, James Adray, is gone now. The hand carved legs are still tucked in the back. His other mahogany furniture that I had stripped to refinish to match the table are still there. I had hoped to complete this job despite it being five years now. For me it is a matter of honor and part of the list of wrongs I am trying to correct.
They had Don Monroe, the director of River East on TV today, announcing he will be heading up the Marina District project. This just brings it home. I still grate at him calling me a thief. All he knows is what he was told and that was from his employees who were stealing my stuff and had set me up for the felony I was convicted of. I know we will be moving to Texas and I will probably never see them again but I still would like to clear my name. I know I was a nut case from the severe depression, a fall that knocked me out resulting in a drastic personality change (A sure sign of brain injury) and the subsequent extreme drug use, but I never stole. Hell, I had a warehouse full of computers, some of the remains are still up there, and they said I stole one. That’s a part of the story I will need to publish because I know this is confusing to many reading the blog.
Here is a thumbnail of these events. I fell fifteen feet from my pallet racking in the warehouse, knocking myself out and breaking two ribs. This was when I became angry and irrational, making poor business decisions. I caught my second wife having sex in the parking lot of the mall she worked at. I caught an employee stealing and when I filed charges and fired him his wife and dad went to the police with a computer they claimed to have purchased from me. That computer had been stolen from a business in my building a few weeks prior. Then that employees friend, the maintenance man in my building, just happened to go visit him. Despite this computer looking like all computers with no outside identifying marks he “recognized it” as being the one that was stolen. By then I was a mess anyway and the court appointed attorney lied to me and sold me out resulting in this conviction.
Now this former employee and his friend are fine upstanding citizens, right? Melvin, the employee, was in the news a couple of years ago when two people stormed into his house firing shots into the ceiling. Kinda sounds like a drug thing. Joe, the maintenance man, was convicted and put on probation for possession of cocaine and multiple drunk driving offenses. But I’m the bad guy. I’m the one Don Monroe calls a thief. This is the real short version of things. I’ll have the full story written sometime. It’s hard to get done with my disability but I’m working on it.
Nuff said for tonight. The Olympics are on and I am tired.

Renewed inspiration

2/11/06
I have had some of my inspirations renewed. I used to go “Blogging” where I would click the “Next Blog” button and it would randomly drop me on another blog. Many of them were in languages I couldn’t understand, several were porn that would drop all kinds of nasty spyware on my system, and some were just wacked out people who are truly frightening.
Then, I found this place that has something called “map stats” http://mapstats.blogflux.com/ that tracks who visits your blog, where they are from, and other cool stuff. In addition to that they have a registry where you can register your blog. The part I like is they physically read your blog and you must meet their standards to be registered. Standards are basic, no porn, no spam, and I think No Nuts though I can’t say for sure. I just read it two days ago so it is gone. Anyway I registered my walked with angels blog and then started looking through their directory of registered blogs.
It was refreshing to not have to wade through a ton of crap to find something decent. One of the spots I found belonged to the author John Scalzi at http://www.scalzi.com/whatever/. (I know there is a way to make it so you could just click on his name to go there but I don’t know how) Actually I found a poem he wrote on the public defenders site and it linked to his site. I went there to ask permission to put his poem, entitled Poor, on this and my other blog. In his blog he answered questions about agents and publishing books and that is what renewed my dream of making a difference by talking to thousands (or millions) through writing.
One of the things my dim mind has noticed is that most blogs have short entries instead of the lengthy discourses I have so I figure I will put in a few short ones like this.

Here is the poem with the graceous permission of John Scalzi (So much for keeping it short)
Being poor is knowing exactly how much everything costs.
Being poor is getting angry at your kids for asking for all the crap they see on TV.
Being poor is having to keep buying $800 cars because they're what you can afford, and then having the cars break down on you, because there's not an $800 car in America that's worth a damn.
Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.
Being poor is knowing your kid goes to friends' houses but never has friends over to yours.
Being poor is going to the restroom before you get in the school lunch line so your friends will be ahead of you and won't hear you say "I get free lunch" when you get to the cashier.
Being poor is living next to the freeway.
Being poor is coming back to the car with your children in the back seat, clutching that box of Raisin Bran you just bought and trying to think of a way to make the kids understand that the box has to last.
Being poor is wondering if your well-off sibling is lying when he says he doesn't mind when you ask for help.
Being poor is off-brand toys.
Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.
Being poor is knowing you can't leave $5 on the coffee table when your friends are around.
Being poor is hoping your kids don't have a growth spurt.
Being poor is stealing meat from the store, frying it up before your mom gets home and then telling her she doesn't have make dinner tonight because you're not hungry anyway.
Being poor is Goodwill underwear.
Being poor is not enough space for everyone who lives with you.
Being poor is feeling the glued soles tear off your supermarket shoes when you run around the playground.
Being poor is your kid's school being the one with the 15-year-old textbooks and no air conditioning.
Being poor is thinking $8 an hour is a really good deal.
Being poor is relying on people who don't give a damn about you.
Being poor is an overnight shift under florescent lights.
Being poor is finding the letter your mom wrote to your dad, begging him for the child support.
Being poor is a bathtub you have to empty into the toilet.
Being poor is stopping the car to take a lamp from a stranger's trash.
Being poor is making lunch for your kid when a cockroach skitters over the bread, and you looking over to see if your kid saw.
Being poor is believing a GED actually makes a goddamned difference.
Being poor is people angry at you just for walking around in the mall.
Being poor is not taking the job because you can't find someone you trust to watch your kids.
Being poor is the police busting into the apartment right next to yours.
Being poor is not talking to that girl because she'll probably just laugh at your clothes.
Being poor is hoping you'll be invited for dinner.
Being poor is a sidewalk with lots of brown glass on it.
Being poor is people thinking they know something about you by the way you talk.
Being poor is needing that 35-cent raise.
Being poor is your kid's teacher assuming you don't have any books in your home.
Being poor is six dollars short on the utility bill and no way to close the gap.
Being poor is crying when you drop the mac and cheese on the floor.
Being poor is knowing you work as hard as anyone, anywhere.
Being poor is people surprised to discover you're not actually stupid.
Being poor is people surprised to discover you're not actually lazy.
Being poor is a six-hour wait in an emergency room with a sick child asleep on your lap.
Being poor is never buying anything someone else hasn't bought first.
Being poor is picking the 10 cent ramen instead of the 12 cent ramen because that's two extra packages for every dollar.
Being poor is having to live with choices you didn't know you made when you were 14 years old.
Being poor is getting tired of people wanting you to be grateful.
Being poor is knowing you're being judged.
Being poor is a box of crayons and a $1 coloring book from a community center Santa.
Being poor is checking the coin return slot of every soda machine you go by.
Being poor is deciding that it's all right to base a relationship on shelter.
Being poor is knowing you really shouldn't spend that buck on a Lotto ticket.
Being poor is hoping the register lady will spot you the dime.
Being poor is feeling helpless when your child makes the same mistakes you did, and won't listen to you beg them against doing so.
Being poor is a cough that doesn't go away.
Being poor is making sure you don't spill on the couch, just in case you have to give it back before the lease is up.
Being poor is a $200 paycheck advance from a company that takes $250 when the paycheck comes in.
Being poor is four years of night classes for an Associates of Art degree.
Being poor is a lumpy futon bed.
Being poor is knowing where the shelter is.
Being poor is people who have never been poor wondering why you choose to be so.
Being poor is knowing how hard it is to stop being poor.
Being poor is seeing how few options you have.
Being poor is running in place.
Being poor is people wondering why you didn't leave.

I can't help but to put pictures of Cherie here. It is good to be in love. She is my caretaker and my partner. As I write this I remember I fixed meatballs and Alfredo sauce with spagetti for dinner. It was good. I am not doing so well right now. It is the end of the day.

2/10/06 Friday
I am at the Pilgrims church right now. Picked up Barb, Dawn, and Dee to bring them here. Barb asked if I could take them to the Pharm and I said no. Then, as they talked with each other, I heard Barb say she only had $11.00 and the other two said they had no money. One of the problems Barb has is shoplifting and frankly I don’t want to be around that. I don’t know about the others but if they are broke there is no legitimate reason they have to go to a store. I might be wrong but just don’t feel like taking them.
I didn’t get any sleep last night as my mind was plagued with the memories and emotions stirred by my visit to River East. After laying awake in bed I got up at 1:00. Cherie was snoring loudly. She woke as I stirred and I asked her to roll on her side as that sometimes helps. It did but now she was restless and every little noise like the drip from the bathroom faucet just reverberated in my ear. I got up and toyed with this computer on the internet till 3:30 when I tried to go to sleep.

It is 9:28 PM now. At this moment I find it difficult to recall my day. Much of it will come to me as I write. I know I was to meet Jeff for our Friday morning breakfast but he called to say he couldn’t make it. I am slow right now (Slow is what I call the partial seizures I have) Around dinner time I was at what I call prime time level, about a 9 on the Bob scale. Now I am operating at a 4 or so. It’s hard to think through a fog but I don’t quit. Another headache is on the way.
Back to recalling this day. After taking Barb and gang home I called Wayne (The guy with MS I helped get off the street and in the system so he could have a life of sorts) I haven’t just visited him in a while, just took him to stores and doctor appointments, so this time I just came over to give him some company. I got him to play checkers to make him use his brain. This is something he needs because of the mental degradation from the Multiple Sclerosis. I used to play chess with him but it was too much for him. I coached him at checkers and made mistakes so he could feel like he was doing well. This is good for his confidence. I ran to the store and bought some eggs for him and got milk and bread for Fred. Wayne’s MS is progressing and his right arm is becoming less functional. It is a shame he cannot access some of the medication that has been developed for MS. When you are poor you just watch others do well as you die.
It is spotty what I did next but I do know that I called Allen. For those of you who haven’t been following things Allen is an old friend from before I went to sleep for a month. He is manic depressive and suffers from serious chronic pain. This has led to his addiction to pain killers, with Oxycontin being at the head of his list. It is sucking him dry. Because it is the drug that led to my self destruction (Nah! I can’t put all the blame on the drug) I understand what he is and will go through. After he tried to again take advantage of my short term memory loss I wrote him a letter telling him the only way I would come around him was if he sought the medical help he needs. This was a couple of weeks or so ago and we haven’t talked.
He was actually awake at 1:30 in the afternoon and answered to phone. (I am having a hard time writing this. The last two paragraphs took an hour. I will have to continue this tomorrow.)

2/9/06 Thursday
I seem to be doing well this morning despite barely sleeping all night. Cherie also was restless. I laid in bed wide awake till 2:00 this morning and would just snooze and wake up the rest of the night.
I’m tired. Imagine that, I don’t sleep well and I’m tired. Just called Fred to see if he would like to go anywhere today. I’ll take him up to Crissey Rd thrift store where he hopes to get some free bread. He’s not worried about the bread, just wants to get out. This will be a fair day for that though the cold air will hit his emphysema pretty hard. It was 13 degrees this morning but is a cloudless sunny day and should warm up to 30.
I’ve showered and shaved now. Fixing to head out to the gym. I have neglected that lately and so has Cherie. It’s hard for her because she is tired when she gets home from work. I will take the letter I wrote to River East with me and run it over there.
Worked out pretty good if sweat is a marker for that. Didn’t have time to run to the east side. Folks at the Y are friendly and open which I am not used to. There was a guy I could hear doing a loud “Daay oh” as he took a shower. He came out and said “That was me” and asked my name as he stood there holding his towel in place. I told him my name and shook the hand he had extended. He was saying something about “God Bless You” as he hung on to my hand. This made me rather uncomfortable and I had to pry my hand out of his grasp. “I gotta get going” I told him and headed for the fitness area.
As I worked out another guy came up to the machine I was on and said “You getting a good workout aren’t you”. I said yes and told him I needed to get back in shape because of being in a coma. Then he started talking about being in a seminary and began to expound on his revelation about Jesus’ being raised from the dead. He said that when Jesus was in the ground three days before his resurrection the apostles went home and had sex with their wives and it took three days for their sperm to fertilize the eggs and that is what brought Jesus back. OK. This must be weird people day at the YMCA. I was nice and didn’t tell him he was a nut case, I just said that was interesting and I would have to think about it for a while. Then it was “I’ve got to finish working out because I have someplace to go, so I’ll let you go now”. At this point I don’t even want to look at someone because I don’t feel like dealing with any more of this stuff.
With that done I came home and took Fred to the thrift store. They didn’t have any bread so Fred just tooled around as I explained what he was peering at. After we got done there I took him to a thrift shop called Savers. He looked around and found a knife block he could use. He purchased it and asked me to take him home.
I got Fred to his apartment and then left to go to River East. Walking into the office the receptionist recognized me so I figured it was Holly. I didn’t recognize her but facial recognition is part of my brain that was damaged. I remember talking with her but can’t remember the face. We talked a little and I left the letter with her. I just sent her an E mail to tell her of the blog and I think to thank her but that was ten minutes ago so I don’t really remember. I will remember tomorrow but that is one of the quirks of this memory.

After that I went upstairs to see my old wood shop. I knew Bernie was real busy and his lights were turned off so I wasn’t going to bother him. His door was wide open so I peeked in and saw he was lying down on his couch. “Bernie” I gently called and he sat up quickly, obviously startled.
We talked for a short time and he told me he was seeing Sally (I think that’s her name. I knew her but am not always clear on stuff). We filled each other in a little on our lives. Bernie showed me his latest project and as always I am impressed with his talent. I took some pictures of him and had to go so he could attend to pressing matters.
Then I went and visited with Keith. He too was hard at work so I snapped a few shots and headed to the back where my shop had been.
It always breaks my heart to see the remnants of that life and what’s happened to it since. There was more stuff gone. This is hard. I just wandered around and looked. I didn’t take any pictures like I planned. Just got depressed and left.
I miss all these friends and the life there when it was good and I was better. Bernie said he would like to go out for lunch, maybe in Lucky Ohio. I know the name and know I’ve been there but don’t have a clue where it is. If I go it will be another of those returning memories times.
I don’t feel good and the headache is getting bad. Cherie asked me to fix dinner and I had chicken marinating but got to writing this and forgot. Just put it in the oven. Cherie will be home in five minutes. It will be good to see her. She always helps to brighten up things when I am down.
The headache turned into a migraine. I took the usual battery of pills and they dulled the pain a little but not much. I got real slow as I prepared dinner. Making simple decisions like how to get the vegetables out of the steamer were hard and I had to ask Cherie for help. Cherie is real emotional this evening and there was nothing I could do that wouldn’t make her break out in tears. I apologized for being crabby and she just cried. She is tired but I think it is mostly the menopause thing. I fixed some coffee because it sometimes helps the headache by constricting the blood vessels. I am doing better now. Still don’t handle bright light. They showed skiing on the news and all the white snow really bothered me. Now I am in the dark with the screen on this laptop dimmed as far as it will go and there is no noise so this works.

I’m still depressed from going to my old warehouse and looking at the ashes of my dreams. There is no one to blame but me. I did this. Bernie told me that he was…not impressed but something like that, just can’t remember how he put it… by how I had defeated the drug addiction. He said that he thought I was a goner, that I would be dead by now. I told him about what I read in the hospital records when I was placed in the psych unit after being found crying and not knowing my name. It said that I told the doctors I was trying to die. In my depression I was destroying everything, including myself. Now I am blessed but the past still hurts. Because of my injuries I am a shadow of the man I was before the divorce but I am at peace.
It’s 8:40 now. I think I will call it a night for this journal though I will search some art on the net to give me some ideas for a drawing I will make. I already know what I want it to say, just want to explore some styles.

We still don't know what to do with this old school bus. I suppose I could strip it and sell the parts. Maybe I could outfit the carcass for barbeques or something.

2/8/06 Wednesday
Not doing to bad this morning. Running about an 8 on the Bob scale. I’m not sure what to expect today and need to check the calendar to see if there is anything scheduled. Nope nothing in the calendar. I fixed to egg muffin sandwiches and took my pills. Considered going to the Y but decided not to because I hope to get Cherie to go after work.
Because I am contemplating visiting Bernie I shaved. I usually don’t shave every day so I can stretch how long my razors last. It is 9:38 and I am experiencing a change. My head is getting lightheaded and the balance is off. Also I am feeling warm and have a light sweat. A headache is starting. I have to wonder if this is associated with me taking my morning seizure pill. This sucks. I am down to a 7 now on my cognizance scale. It is hard to tell unless I am talking to someone though my typing speed and ability to think things through as I write are also good gauges. I’m gong to take a headache pill now.

10:35 – It’s an hour later and my head is still a little thick. I washed the dishes with the usual increase in back pain. With that done I called Bernie to see if it would be convenient for me to visit. He had just taken over as commander of the VFW post and was swamped with that and his work. He was very friendly and open which I was glad to see. I am always nervous about seeing old friends because of my actions prior to the accident. He asked for my address and phone number and said he would like to meet for lunch.
After talking to Bernie I sat for a while to process this and then called River East. I was hoping to get Holly but Don Monroe answered. The last time I saw him I was walking in the building as he was walking out. I said hi and he said something about me being a thief. Because of this I expected a cold reception and was surprised when Don didn’t just brush me off but asked me to hold on as he covered other calls. I told him about offering several times to clean up my old shop area and he was surprised. He had never been told this by Mary Ellen whom he said no longer worked there. He asked me to write again and he would present it to the board. I will do that now before it vanishes from this brain.
I managed to get the letter written but it took me an hour. Here is a copy of it.

To Don Monroe, River East
I have offered several times to clean up the mess left in my former woodshop, once in writing. These offers were made to Mary Ellen who said I was not to be in the building and that if I returned she would call the police. At one point she did allow me to try to recover what personal property and records I could find under the supervision of a maintenance employee. My wife and I only had a short time to find these items by digging through the rubbish left by those who have scavenged what they could over the last five years.
I would still like to clean up this mess as best I can. I am permanently disabled from the injuries I received but can still do some things. I wrote a letter of apology for my condition prior to the car wreck that I handed out to residents and left a copy with Mary Ellen. I now assume she never let anyone see it.
I know this offer would be considered unusual but I have been trying to correct as many of my mistakes as I can.

I took out the addresses and phone numbers as I don’t want any of you following my story to call there. While I am sharing this I suppose it would be helpful to my readers to show you the copy of the letter of apology I wrote three years ago.

This is a letter of apology and explanation. I woke from a coma just before Christmas 2001. I had incurred brain damage resulting in partial memory loss and paralysis as a result of an accident I had while traveling to Texas to visit my sick grandmother. I have spent the last three years recovering my health and restoring my memory. That process involves interviewing those who knew me and with those triggers I am able to access the memories locked in my brain.
Much of what I have learned is not pleasant. I was declared dead at the accident and brought back through the wonders of medical science. As I lay in the hospital I had much time to think about this. My life is a gift and I will make as much use of this gift as I can. Thus I apologize for any wrongs I have done. I would greatly appreciate it if you could tell me any details you may be aware of. I have recovered much but there are still some gaps. I do not expect to hear much good so do not hesitate to share.
In 1999 I had fallen from my pallet racking knocking myself out and breaking 2 ribs. I was given a prescription of oxycontin for pain. I was unaware this is a highly addictive form of synthetic heroin. My secretary Eileen tells me that I went through a drastic personality change becoming an ass to use her words. Also at this time I had caught my wife having sex with another man. While I was no angel myself this tore me up and I eventually moved out of my house into the warehouse. It was the start of a long bitter divorce and a depression that was to become progressively worse.
My drinking and drug use escalated adding to the depression. At Joe Pena’s urging I hired his friend Melvin Losek. Melvin was selling me drugs and at the same time stealing from me. When Joe found out I was setting up cameras to catch Melvin stealing he of course let him know. Melvin quit and I filed charges against him. Then Melvin’s wife and dad showed up with a computer they claimed to buy from me that had been stolen downstairs. I have also learned that Joe was aggressively spreading stories about me. They were generally not true and it is my personal opinion that they were designed to cover his and Melvin’s actions.
There is no question that at the end I was not sane but I was not a thief. This is not a justification of my behavior, which I am deeply ashamed of, but an explanation of the events involved. I want everyone to know that I am drug free and that I am determined to be a man I can be proud of. Please accept my apology.

Honesty is seldom comfortable but without it one is just another who puts up a false face for the world to see. That is a crowd I don’t wish to join. I would much rather be with the few who share my philosophy but they are hard to find. As you can see on the plaque I carved after I woke up part of that philosophy is to live a life you can be proud of. I feel it takes more of a man to humble himself and face his mistakes than it does to run and hide.
I had to go back to bed from 11:00 to 1:00 because I was not doing to good. Took a little nap and that helped allot. There has been a general dull headache there all day which is no big deal for me. It was the migraine like I had yesterday that just puts me out of commission.
I E-mailed Virginia to see how she was and to ask how it went with the lawyer Friday. She didn’t reply so I called her at work. I don’t know if I caught her at a bad time or what but she was uncomfortable so I kept it short. Evidently she did not go see Jim McGilvray, Lee’s attorney, Friday like we thought. She did say she had a big load of papers to fill out for this.
I called the lawyer to see how things were going and to try and determine a timetable for all this. He said Virginia was scheduled to see him next Friday and that it would take a couple of months after that. I asked for a copy of the will and he said to call the courthouse. His secretary gave me the number but when I called it I got the bank. I talked with the banker a bit about things and then got the courthouse number from her.
Suzie Holt is the clerk of courts and told me that the will had not been filed. She said it may have been filed at another county but it is usually filed in the county the property and assets are. She was very helpful in telling me how things proceed and suggested I get a lawyer. I’m sure she tells everyone that but I don’t think I will need one and besides that they cost money. I’m to cheap and feel it would be a waste of money. As a general rule I don’t have a high opinion of lawyers, at least not the ones I have had dealings with up here.
If there’s a problem then I’ll get one in a heartbeat but I figure any problems would come from Larry. We got along the last time we talked so that should not be an issue. Who knows which way the wind will blow when it gets down to it. I had mentioned to Suzie that the house had been ransacked more than once. She told me that would be a criminal matter that I should let the sheriff’s department know about. I don’t see what good that would do. Not even CSI could figure out who stole what or even what was taken. Maybe they could keep an eye on the place though.
Cherie just fixed a nice simple dinner. We talked about what we would like to grow in the garden when we move to the farm. Pretty much a little of everything. I think I will need to do some studying on this. Actually not too much cause I had a large garden at the house I owned in Temperance where I grew what I called a salsa garden. Lots of different varieties of tomatoes, peppers, and a spices. One of the things we will grow for sure is some good sweet corn. Michigan has some of the best corn you can find and I will be sure to get seeds before we go.
I just told Cherie to sketch out what she would like for a sewing area to give me an idea so I can plan on how to build it. We are going to make this house as self sustaining as possible. Some of the things like rain water harvesting, solar and wind electricity, and basic insulation have government incentives to reduce the cost. Figuring out a cost benefit ratio will take a little studying. I know water is an issue because the well is in bad shape along with the plumbing.
We’ve looked into composting toilets and that looks like it’s feasible. It will be strange to use a toilet with no water but they’ve been using them in Europe for decades. Besides it turns waste into fertilizer. I’m going to have two composting areas. One will be a worm pit and the other a standard rotary composter. This will allow us to turn all the vegetative and grass clippings into humus for the garden. The table scraps that contain meat and fats will be fed to the chickens who will then turn it into fertilizer.
Lots of plans but I will have to prioritize them. I am unsure what I can actually get done so will have to take care of the basics first. I always push myself and am motivated so it should be alright. But I am working with a disability whether I like it or not. I really don’t like facing that fact and have pretended it didn’t exist to my detriment before.
I just got an E-mail reply from Virginia. I always appreciate communication. She said the boss from Midland was there when I called so I’m glad I detected my call was inconvenient. She said the will was filed in Martin county so I suppose Suzie just didn’t find it. She will go to see Jim the lawyer Friday and will let me know how things are proceeding. The CS number I found for Lee’s insurance was a big help and I am glad I was able to do something to help instead of being in the way.
It’s 9:31 now. The headache has been there all day but is more noticeable now. I will go ahead and publish this and take some aspirin and go to bed. Cherie’s got the Grammy’s on. Goodnight