The easter bunny was blind.  He had to be lead around by his cute assistant.  He was blind because of the costume he wore which the eye did not match up.  I found the whole experience ironic. 

Easter was always a big deal in our Catholic home when I was married to my Catholic wife and we hd our Catholic daughter at that time.  Luckily she gre out of being a Catholic the older she got.  I do however miss the Easters we would have.  Large baskets full of candy and surprises.  My wife was good at things like that. 

Listening to Mahavishnu Orchestra is bringing back memories.  Hell sneezing would bring back memories right now. 

I got up and started wheeling toward the main area to find my nurse so that ai could score my latest perc when out of the corner of my eye I saw my mother heading toward me.  My shocked response was, "Mom what are you doing up?" And at the  same time she was asking, "What are you doing here. Take me home." 

Mother proceeded to go through a tiraid of how she couldn't make a phone call, didn't have any numbers to call, got left at the theatre with no way home and I was the last person she figured she would see. 

We went through the normal drone with mom becoming angry but more scared and the bottom line she didn't want to believe that she ended up here and it was hard for me to argue the point because I didn't want to believe that I was in this facility. 

Mom's whole premise was that she was homeless and had nowhere to go and she would get the little green clutch purse out that my daughter gave her for Easter and count out the few dollars she had thinking that we had to pay for a room. 

Logically I knew mom was right where she belonged.  She was safe here but illogically I wondered why she had to end her final years on this God Forsaken planet thinking she was lost in a movie theatre and what the fuck happened to her as a child that has her so frightened and yet so determined. 

Mom was a fighter.  Dad wasn't.  He bailed first chance he got.  It's been five or six years and I still don't know how it feel to have him gone.  Of course I spent three of that five or six dying myself. 

This God forsaken life. This ridiculous thing called life and death. 

Mom finally crawled into her single hospital bed and went to sleep. I did not climb into my bed.  I was haunted by all the strange consciousness that was going on all around me.  Haunted by my past and my mistakes.  Ravaged by my poor choices in friends and business partners. 

The Rippingtons grooved the night away as I sat in the dark and contemplated life and death. 

My first wife and mother-in-law thought I was a beast the way I worked  Sixteen hours a day seven days a week brought in some big money.  What they didn't know was that the gang worked like we did because we all got high and we spent hours getting high and loading railcars.  The truth finally came out when I came home early one night overdosing on speed. I mixed the combination of crystal meth with bootleg black beauties.  I was out of my mind heart beating out of my chest.  It was not a pretty sight. 

The irony is I quit using drugs except pot for years and now I am on three narcotics and a bucket full of other stuff. I believe it is all a form of awareness, a form of consciousness.  If I could get someone to bring me in some brownies I would be thrilled to death.  We used drugs then to get high now I use drugs to make me feeel normal and not be in pain. 

The concept of night dialysis is that they hook you up and you sleep the rest of the night away.  Well that's not the case.  We got three burgers who talk all night long.  a behemoth of a man, the fisherman and the black woman and there is no other way to describe this woman.  She exemplifies a black woman.  The behemoth and the black woman don't really like each other because they both like the fisherman so there is competition going on there.  They spend the night talking into the wee hours about food.  Food!  the thing that got most of us here.  Abusing food, diabetes, high blood pressure and finally kidney failure. 

So...  You lay there all night being hungry and the next morning you lay down and sleep away the day only to wake up and spend the next night up to only get a full day of daylight and then back to dialysis and finally the weekend where you get to days to live.   It's like having a full time job I hell. 

It's almost unbearable to think that the next ten years will be spent in this wheelchair going to dialysis.   The limitations are profound both for self and for those that are there to help.  I don’t understand my life right now and that has been the worst part of this all.  I don’t understand my life anymore. 




Views: 75

Comment by Zanelle on March 30, 2016 at 9:22pm

I don't understand it either but I sure appreciate your posts that get right to the nutty gritty.   Thank You!


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