FA+
Shop
01-20-2019
7 years ago
General
Life so far...
The foot is improving. The ulcer on the side is almost closed up, but there's always going to be a divot to remind me never to take a step without shoes again. The front of my foot where my toes used to be hasn't closed up yet, and I can still feel my toes.
Kidney disease and hypertension are under control. The closest I've come to a heart attack in May was when my brother told me he was opening my mail and that I was finally receiving disability checks. I had $3500 he was keeping a secret from me because he was afraid I'd go on a spending spree. My blood pressure rose to something like 190/70 for three days.
Eyes aren't getting much better. Blindness is a real possibility.
My brother Robert is vacationing in Africa. Kenya as a matter of fact. Besides the obvious, I won't have any visits from anybody for the next three weeks. If Mona is reading this, or somebody who knows Mona, please ask her to visit. Besides my brother Robert, I've had no visitors since May.
For the last few months, I've been in this rehab ward here a woman screams "Help me!" over and over again for hours because she's lonely . The guy in the next room is as big as a mountain and screams incoherently because most of his brain is gone. There's a morphine addict with a goddamn booming voice trying to convince the nurses to give him another shot for his pain all around the clock.
My routine is simple: take my pills and injections and ambush the snack lady when she comes around. Sometimes I have a medical appointment. Sometimes I go in an outing to a store. But mostly, I sit in my room all day long.
I want to go home so much. I miss my books. I miss walking my brother's silly dog. I miss cooking a meal. I miss so damn much.
My psychiatrist is starting to get under my skin. She wants me to forgive and forget the people who hurt me and neglected me while I was growing up. I just want anti-anxiety medication so I can talk on the phone and maybe drive a car some day. But our last session wasn't tea and dumplings. She tapped into my bottomless reservoir of anger and almost let my green rage monster run loose.
I have so much anger inside of me. And I'm like my mother in that I will cut you into pieces if you trigger me. Mona did that a long time ago when she reminded me of how lonely I am.
Some new Haggis art is incoming thank goodness. There an unfinished pic of Haggis wrestling a raptor in my gallery if anybody wants to tackle that. If anybody wants to do a Haggis picture, you may as long as it's not adult. Topless is fine, but nothing porny. I don't want Haggis to go the way of other Furry Fight Farm characters that have less class than a Tijuana bible. I apologized to Brian Burke for my previous bad behavior and I've given him permission to draw Haggis for anybody wanting to commission a picture from him. Put some money in his pocket, okay?
That's about it. You guys be careful out there. And be grateful you still have all your toes.
The foot is improving. The ulcer on the side is almost closed up, but there's always going to be a divot to remind me never to take a step without shoes again. The front of my foot where my toes used to be hasn't closed up yet, and I can still feel my toes.
Kidney disease and hypertension are under control. The closest I've come to a heart attack in May was when my brother told me he was opening my mail and that I was finally receiving disability checks. I had $3500 he was keeping a secret from me because he was afraid I'd go on a spending spree. My blood pressure rose to something like 190/70 for three days.
Eyes aren't getting much better. Blindness is a real possibility.
My brother Robert is vacationing in Africa. Kenya as a matter of fact. Besides the obvious, I won't have any visits from anybody for the next three weeks. If Mona is reading this, or somebody who knows Mona, please ask her to visit. Besides my brother Robert, I've had no visitors since May.
For the last few months, I've been in this rehab ward here a woman screams "Help me!" over and over again for hours because she's lonely . The guy in the next room is as big as a mountain and screams incoherently because most of his brain is gone. There's a morphine addict with a goddamn booming voice trying to convince the nurses to give him another shot for his pain all around the clock.
My routine is simple: take my pills and injections and ambush the snack lady when she comes around. Sometimes I have a medical appointment. Sometimes I go in an outing to a store. But mostly, I sit in my room all day long.
I want to go home so much. I miss my books. I miss walking my brother's silly dog. I miss cooking a meal. I miss so damn much.
My psychiatrist is starting to get under my skin. She wants me to forgive and forget the people who hurt me and neglected me while I was growing up. I just want anti-anxiety medication so I can talk on the phone and maybe drive a car some day. But our last session wasn't tea and dumplings. She tapped into my bottomless reservoir of anger and almost let my green rage monster run loose.
I have so much anger inside of me. And I'm like my mother in that I will cut you into pieces if you trigger me. Mona did that a long time ago when she reminded me of how lonely I am.
Some new Haggis art is incoming thank goodness. There an unfinished pic of Haggis wrestling a raptor in my gallery if anybody wants to tackle that. If anybody wants to do a Haggis picture, you may as long as it's not adult. Topless is fine, but nothing porny. I don't want Haggis to go the way of other Furry Fight Farm characters that have less class than a Tijuana bible. I apologized to Brian Burke for my previous bad behavior and I've given him permission to draw Haggis for anybody wanting to commission a picture from him. Put some money in his pocket, okay?
That's about it. You guys be careful out there. And be grateful you still have all your toes.
Working in health care myself, I certainly can sympathize...