the city

I use to live in the city. It was above a pretty popular restaurant which made living there a pain in the ass. If I left during the day I would have to park pretty far away until they closed then go get my car and move it back where I could see it. For once I really didn’t like the other people that lived up there. The one kept getting into my mail box until I threatened him. I’m pretty laid back but I will get in peoples faces if they piss me off. The other neighbor I called him Joe Dirt. That’s exactly who he looked like, the hair and everything. He was straight from the ’80’s. The owner evicted the mailbox guy then changed the locks at the entrance. He tried to get back in and Joe Dirt went to talk to him. Joe, being a little slow, forgot he left hamburgers grilling on his oven caught his kitchen on fire which set off the buildings fire alarms. The fire department shows up at this historic landmark thanks to these two clowns. This was in the summer, so it’s around 90 degrees out and we had to evacuate the building. I was pissed because I just got home from work and I was working a few beers. Don’t interrupt my fucking beers, god dammit! The other guy was evicted for not paying his rent. I mean it was only $400 a month, WTF. So he destroyed everything in his unit. Then it was just me up there. I think the owner liked it that way, I was responsible and kept and eye on his building. But I didn’t want to be his after hours security. I didn’t want to be responsible for anything that happened to that building. It was a popular restaurant, even the local news personalities ate there in the late morning. I really liked the apartment. It was kept up for as old as it was. New cabinets, new hardwood and ceramic tile floors. The one thing I didn’t like was I felt like I was always on stage there. I had to go past all the customers in the parking lot to get to the second floor stairs. And it was two flights of metal stairs, those things made some noise too. Once inside I felt safe. I liked my place, I liked the view of downtown and Broad Street. In the very back is where I kept my computer and tech stuff. I didn’t even have a living room because this is where I spent all my time. The window and balcony to my left was a nice view at night. The streets calmed, the lights dimmed and the city went quiet. This is where I forgot everything and went into another world.

OFFICE

 

I finally get my surgery next week. I’m probably typing this because I’m wigged out on Oxycodone and Gabapetin and I’m not even aware I’m doing this. But anything is better than the excruciating pain I’m normally in. Just one more week…

 

 

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picture and a whine

I should whine more than I do. Or acknowledge that’s something’s not right instead of thinking it will pass. It’s been months telling myself I’ll get better soon and go about my life as it was. It wouldn’t fix itself and gradually I sought help only because pain hurts, it really does. And when it really hurts to where it’s your only fixation, I had to give up the facade that I was O.K. I’ve always saw everything in a positive light (except my art) and never let much bother me. So giving in wasn’t at the top of my list. Today, I gave in. Finally after months of crippling pain I got an answer. My big problem was the MRI. I was scared to death of that thing sucking me in. Twice I tried but flipped out and stopped just moments after that machine started. Claustrophobia doesn’t play fair. As a matter of fact I had never thought I was claustrophobic. It could have been the combination of things. I think plugging my ears was the cause. Cutting off a sense made the rest of me hyper aware of everything else. But this time I gave in to my fear. I closed my eyes and wished away the agony I’ve endured for the last six months. Then it was over. Twenty minutes of pure panic and I made it.

Today I get the phone call. The hospital name shining like a beacon in my caller I.D. and I even answered this time. Casey was so nice. She knew how to talk and made everything easy to take in. She didn’t know how much I appreciated what she was telling me. To her it was just her profession, to me it was a ton of weight lifted off my soul. In a few days the neurosurgeon will be contacting me. At least I finally have peace knowing that I’ll be taken care of. It will probably take all my life savings but will be worth it. All I want is to be normal again. I want to walk and sit and sleep like I use to. I want it the way it was. I think I finally understand I’m not 18 anymore and have physical limits I can’t exceed.

By the way it’s a spine injury. My entire spine from my neck down. So pretty much my entire being hurts. And I never kept it a secret from the doctors that I’m getting non prescribed Oxycontin. I took it that far to where the worst opioid available is my only relief and I’m getting it illegally. It has it’s place and it’s the only few hours of relief. I wouldn’t say it’s addicting. I don’t feel I need it until the pain is unbearable and those few hours of sleep are worth the price I’m paying. One thing I’m aware of is none of them said to stop, but none of them have offered anything else to replace it.

After I got my phone call this morning a sense of of calm came over me. It felt good to know something, to know anything. I got dressed which takes a long time to do now. I keep my shoes tied so I can slip them on. The belt is in my pants and the shirt is already buttoned and on a hanger waiting to be slipped on. It’s funny how I’ve adapted to living like this. I live alone if that’s not obvious. I mean who the hell would want…

Back to the story; I get down my stairs and look out the back door to see snow. I love the snow and winter. This just adds to my excitement. I want to walk and get fresh air and move around. When I opened my front door a calm came over me. It was the perfect ambient atmosphere. The snow muffling the sounds, the temperature just above freezing, no wind. Here is what I saw as I exited my front door. Welcome to my front yard.

 

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