BEEN SO LONG SINCE WE TOOK THE TIME , NO ONE'S TO BLAME

BEEN SO LONG SINCE WE TOOK THE TIME , NO ONE'S TO BLAME
There was a time that I remember well , that I lay in my bed , a bed where I had slept as a different man , in the house where that able man had lived and I looked across the room at a book that I wanted to read , I had read it long before , had enjoyed it but it was not out of need for it that I suffered . It was the frustration of being now unable to go and get it , would I always have to ask others to get a t...hing for me that was only a few feet away ? Or would I one day overcome the fear of trying to do it for myself ?

I wrestled with this often back then and did so until one day it became too much , When I felt the height of that frustration and had to try or explode I tried . At first it was by working my way into the wheelchair and then retrieving what I wanted and eventually using the quad cane and walking over to do it .
These days , I am most likely walking over without the straight cane I use and trying to carry the item back in my affected hand . A goal set to a stubborn enough person is a goal achieved . We are stronger than we realize my dear fellow survivors , we are still here . Phil.

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YOU ARE ONLY COMING THROUGH IN WAVES,YOUR LIPS MOVE BUT I CAN'T HEAR WHAT YOU SAY

                   Anxiety , it is with me always . It rides my shoulders and it's scent and taste is with me every waking moment . Instinctively we cower , we wait for it to pass , close the door , turn off the lights .

                The many different therapies that I have explored teach of ' grounding' ourselves and centering our focus . My focus is quite clear and from my grounded position I stand and scream defiantly " No ! " it almost had me once , almost made me withdraw and cower . I am beaten raw by toxic environments and people , by the loss of half of myself in the fog and I may have been easy prey but this morsel is ready to fight back .

              I am here , I was here once , in this world , as a whole man , I had carved out a place for a guy like me to be , to live and say I will stay , I love her , I love them , I love US .

               Anxiety , I will recognize you in all of your forms . I will acknowledge your hold upon me , admit it though I hate that it exists . I will confront you , upright and refusing to shrink and cower , I will stand , the man that I am and will always be and once I have done that it will be ME that wields the power , me that walks among your kind and others will stand with me then .

                 Fear does not rule here my dear fellow survivors , walk with me , roll or do what you must to show your defiance , we have survived and we are stronger for it  Phil.

           

         

GOT THEM LOW-DOWN DRIED-OUT DESERT BLUES

                   Nothing ,  nothing growing save a few scrubby and thorny bushes dotting the wasted landscape for as far as the eye , mine anyway , can see . There was a tree , a sharp , skeletal sign post , my memory of it the only thing that acknowledged my passage through this silent dimension .

                   Even the air here saw no reason to move at all during the heat of the day and it had a tinge of saltiness on the tongue as it sat in this ...Strokeland . The previous night , my first in this Sargasso dead sea had taught me that it was not until sundown that the local life became visible . Well , not exactly visible but they could be heard scuttling and skittering among the rocks . Distance here is hard to guage , I can see plainly enough I guess but the atmosphere here distorts what lies just beyond . I put my head down for a short time in the cooler night air when I caught a large sweeping movement in the haze ,It was difficult to discern but what I saw was skeletal and immense , stretching higher than I could really see , it was insect like , my mind calls it mantis but that is impossible , I hope .

                    It is confusion and fear that rule in this hell . I had gone to sleep innocently enough back the world , back in the life I'd lived for my entire existence and when I awoke , one side sore and tired and the other numb and sluggish . I ' d gone to the hospital , walked into the E.R. and those were my last steps that I remember in that realm . I woke up on this arrow - straight , arid road to ...somewhere I hope .

                 As confusing as it all is , the deeply embedded certainty that I have a reason to be here on this road , that my purpose is to reach it's end no matter what . I have no memory of how or when this became as important as it is but I know that I must , I know that to get here I passed through a place that I must never venture into again alive .

                   However it was that I arrived here , I wish that I had been deposited in better condition , My side , the left one is so damned heavy , I'm dragging it along with me and the drive that pushes me along means that stopping and resting is not an option , pain and the promise that it will continue are all that exists on the programme . I do not know what waits at the end of this road but even that big mantis had better take a walk when I get there because after this road , this pain , this one - sided weight lifting , mood wise I'll be one irritated , agitated , infuriated , motivated mother $%^*&^%*.

                                                                   "  ALL ABOARD  "  

AND WE ALL MAKE OUR CHOICES , LIKE A BLIND MAN FEELS HIS WAY

AND WE ALL MAKE OUR CHOICES , LIKE A BLIND MAN FEELS HIS WAY , AND THE CHOICE 'VE MADE IS SIMPLE , PASSION OVER PAIN

             I was lying there , as alone as one can be in a hospital but more alone than I had ever felt before . The realization that a half of my body no longer worked weighing heavily , when from the edge of the dark abyss came the question " And what if it never works again ? "
I hated that question , that voice , that place but though I tried ...the question remained " What if ? " in a voice that sounded like my own , what if ? I still hear it at times and my first defiant " No " has now become a scream with all that I can manage" NO !!! " and it was that simple , one word answer that determined my place , my lane if you will on the long , rocky , recovery highway .

               It is hard this lane , I would not switch though if I could . It is long , it is slow and it hurts , it hurts really badly and although I do not travel it alone and my pain is shared , I will never stop because if I do that lonely voice just gets louder in the distance .
Yesterday , for the second time since my entry in the 'one legged man in an ass kicking contest I did a thing that I had only ever been forced to do once before On this occasion I let go of railing and cane and I walked jerkily on my own and even though it hurts today the feeling is still within me that a part of that chair bound individual took flight somehow . My walk was not pretty , not graceful or regular but every step is remembered , seared into the brain of the man who once heard that voice .


                 There's a place up ahead , iot is sunny and grassy and if one sits on the right side , there is no view of this damned highway , no echo from the abyss . I'll be sprawled there my dear fellow survivors , bring coffee...and maybe a little Van Halen Phil.

YOU ALREADY WON ME OVER.IN SPITE OF ME

YOU ALREADY WON ME OVER.IN SPITE OF ME

I have watched my infant granddaughter playing with her feet , fascinated by those toes. Exploring the amazing possibilities that all of these new things offer.

Just yesterday I was lying in bed putting the paralyzed leg up because the foot was a bit swollen and I lay there Staring at my old toes with fascination. Damn I miss them and I stared , caught up in the wonders that they represent, wishing, wondering, until possibility overtook reality and just for the hell of it I tried.

I started at my waist , the hip and I tensed ever muscle in that long chain til I reached that foot and then the serious weight lifting began and they moved . The toes moved slightly but a movement my dear fellow survivors. Wee wee wee these little piggies came home Phil.https://youtu.be/IKnz3kAwRu8

Head Over Feet lyrics by: Alanis Morissette

Alanis Morissette.. she's one of my favorite singer.. hope you like it... thanks!

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I'M GONNA MAKE A JAILBREAK , I'M LOOKING TOWARDS THE SKY

I'M GONNA MAKE A JAILBREAK , I'M LOOKING TOWARDS THE SKY , I'M GONNA MAKE A JAILBREAK , OH HOW I WISH THAT I COULD FLY

Bars , we all live in prisons of our own, what makes each unique is the bars that keep us within. Mine , my bars are made of pain and memories . The pain of muscles , of spasms that wrack them , screams at the disuse and the memory of what they were once capable of , the simplicity of movement , the wonderful communication between mind and limb that I had and squandered . These things fill my consciousness , they form the cell that confines me . I batter the walls , pry at the locks , and occasionally my spirit gains a moment of freedom . I strive to break free but I cannot run , , my experiences tether me .

My cellmate has been with me always , keeping me sane , if I truly am , and supporting me when I falter. Love occupies the other bunk . Makes up my strength , my resolve and my tenacious belief that a better place not only exists but awaits . I rant at my barriers , bluster and yell but if I were ever to reach out in the darkness and not find her hand the very wind would leave my sails. My heart only beats because hers beats with it , each fearful step I take ends with the sound of both footfalls , hers and mine. I live in a prison of my own making , my choices were made long ago. She , though , she is here by choice , for me , for us and it is that knowledge that gives me strength , makes me feel some worth and hope. Her love represents not only safety and comfort but the possibility of such a choice being possible for me again one day.

I wish that there was only one wall my dear fellow survivors , one barrier that we could all rally against , that we could charge at en mass , but the bars are much more personal than that and the jailor holding your keys exists within each of you , each of us. Should  you manage to tunnel out send me a letter and sign it Inigo Montoya , I will have to dig my own , but I think that I prefer the idea of walking out with my cellmate one day , my sentence will only end when I choose it and it's gonna be hard. see you on the outside my friends. Phil.

I CAN'T SLEEP AND I LAY AND I THINK ,, THE NIGHT IS HOT AND BLACK AS INK

I CAN'T SLEEP AND I LAY AND I THINK ,, THE NIGHT IS HOT AND BLACK AS INK

I see the looks in their eyes , see them in my mind , where I am most broken . I notice the awkward walk , the un moving arm ,, the eye that has ideas of it's own about where to look . I pick over each flaw and imperfection . In my mind's eye I see what I believe all others see .

I am wrong she tells me once more , I am projecting my own insecurity upon the blank screens around me . D...o I crave their acceptance ? I never did before , back when I was still me . Do I require the approval of others ?

" You do not ! " a lonely voice whispers in the far back , dark somewhere . " The acceptance that you seek is not theirs , it is your own " a solemn monotone . Though I try , I still see only that which I blame upon those others .

I set out one day intent upon ' showing THEM ! ' I strike out stubbornly uphill , the grip on my cane more a weld that a clasp and someplace near the halfway mark I realize that my intention is to ' SHOW ME ! ' By the time I crest the hilltop that old ass that is dragging behind me feels that it has indeed been ' SHOWN '

No condescending little smile from passers by as I come back down , instead they receive a look from me that says " That's nothing you should see him as I have... and I got proven wrong " ...

Despite what we are told by the frustrated my dear fellow survivors , sometimes it actually is ' ALL ABOUT YOU ' and in that dark , quiet , mind theater of yours where you are the director , producer and the casting couch , stage manager , you have to stand back , watch the show , listen to the house and give the kid a break , the great ones project the essence of the role upon the blank canvas of the audience . See what you believe that you can be in their eyes , It all starts with you Phil.

KNOW A GOVERNMENT MAN , HE WAS AS BLIND AS THE MOON , HE SAW THE SUN IN THE NIGHT

KNOW A GOVERNMENT MAN , HE WAS AS BLIND AS THE MOON , HE SAW THE SUN IN THE NIGHT

                 This ground , brown and cracked and scorched , it stretches on forever . The sun , always bright now , it's reaching fingers find me everyplace that I go in the salty air . An old one , more mummy than man , who had held a lofty place in one of the tribe camps that I have passed through .
" All of the hear abouts that you can see around you was once a great sea ..." he had croaked " It was like a slow death watching it boil away " . I had following his directions is far toward where the great city had stood but I could see nothing that was any different than anything else .

The world about us has changed , moved on and I'd been walking it for years , crawling it before that and before that ...well then I had walked in a different place with different air , ground and sun . My travels here in Strokeland had begun with purpose I started out hunting a man , a shadowy character who had run out on me once . At some point in the hunt I came to realize that what was gone was gone and I rested .

When I began to walk again , my new purpose was to see this new place , to discover my place within it as I am . My focus however is inward as well as in the hazy distance . I look behind me and realize that more of this Strokeland than is visible to me now has felt the fall of my feet , my uneven gait , the hot , arid wind may erase the footprints but the wind will not erase the marks lreft in me until my dehydrated form joins this landscape .

So perhaps my new purpose is to go as far as I can before it becomes time to lie down . I will see you on the horizon my dear fellow survivors , We can look at it from the other side Phil

DO TO ME WHAT YOU WILL , BREAK THE SPELL , TAKE YOUR FILL

DO TO ME WHAT YOU WILL , BREAK THE SPELL , TAKE YOUR FILL

For a few years now I have lived under the assumption that my own brain was constantly trying to manipulate me . Lately , it has been brought to my attention that my time has come , it is now my turn to mess with that little gray guy .

Both mental and occupational therapies have come to a point where it seems to be necessary to fool my own brain , Hmmmm . I've never subscribed to the whole " Use a ...smaller plate and your brain will think that you are eating larger portions " approach but I honestly feel that this is right for me right now .

At the height of the anxious and emotional turmoil that my mental state can reach , it has been suggested and encouraged that I find strategies to distract my thought process to surmount the problem . In fact , when I was in another city in a strange hospital , my thoughts panicked and terrified , I coped by unconsciously counting obsessively in sevens i.e: 7 - 14 - 21 - 28... and it helped .

For my arm , I am beginning to re-try Mirror box therapy . where I place my paralyzed arm inside of a box that has a mirror on the outside of it , then I do a series of exercises with the working hand while I watch them in the mirror . The point of this is to spark the brain's attempts to repair itself , as it sees what the left hand apparently needs to do . Again , I am not convinced that this is not a viable course of action

So my dear fellow survivors , I know that the paths that we travel are steep and rocky and I intend to meet you all at the top of the mountain , it is possible that we have all only fooled ourselves into thinking that we are there , so I am working on fooling myself into carrying up a case of beer , can one of you imagine a cooler full of ice ? See ya there Phil

I ALWAYS FOUND THAT SILENCE , HELPS TO KEEP ME AND MY KIND ALIVE

I ALWAYS FOUND THAT SILENCE , HELPS TO KEEP ME AND MY KIND ALIVE

The woman has finally gone to sleep , a very fortunate chance meeting in the hotel bar . The two hours of senseless reality television almost got me as well , I have work to do now .

I open my travel bag and remove the black shirt and pants and the small case . Trusting in the drops that I'd slipped into her drink , I pull the sheet over to cover her and cross to the bathroom , turning o...n the overhead light/fan combo and closing the door . I slip as silently as I can into the hallway , all quiet , the staff key card that I swiped from the bellhop opens the door to room 207 letting me in quietly , seeming to cause no alarm inside .

His name is Alan DeVonne , at 6'3" 260 lbs , even lying down he is a big fella . From the case I take the small glass ampule and snap it under his nose for insurance for what is to come . I pry his mouth open enough to wedge the rubber chew toy between his jaws , forcing them open .

Into the case again , I extract the syringe , already loaded and move over the form on the bed . I slip the needle point into the soft tissue below the tongue , he moans his last and even before I finish removing the chew toy and replacing the syringe his breath begins to rattle in his chest . Feet kicking in a death spasm , I close the door on the room as well as on DeVonne's life and return to my room across the hall .

I don my disguise once more , the one that I wore checking in . The close , tight , grey wig and the wrinkled old man clothes and overcoat . I place a tiny bag of coke on the night table beside the woman , let fear and confusion cloud her recollections . With the key card |I let myself into the storage room on the floor , black clothing into the laundry shoot , key card into the incinerator with the syringe , ampule halves and chew toy .

As I await the elevator I turn on my phone , I call the contact name marked as' Dad ' and when the client answers I tell him " It is done ! " Without waiting for any reply I check my bank balance and watch the number rise . When the rattling , old , elevator reaches the lobby , the only notice an old man leaving gets is a short , pleasant wave from the desk clerk . I grunt loudly as I open the heavy door and I am free .

The point , my dear fellow survivors , is that while we all have a similar target , it is through planning , preparation and determination that our goal can be realized , our obstacles executed . Just having a bit of fictional fun , see ya later and stay out of room 207 . Phil .

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AH THE MOON'S TOO BRIGHT ,THE CHAIN'S TOO TIGHT

AH THE MOON'S TOO BRIGHT ,THE CHAIN'S TOO TIGHT. , THE BEAST WON'T GO TO SLEEP

It is through a haze of ridiculous pain that I say to you my dear fellow survivors that even that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow comes with a cost. For these past few years post stroke my dream has been that one day I might be able to care for my lovely wife as she so lovingly has for me.

This  past week she has been in hospital and I have been tasked with not only the unthinkable chore of caring for myself but for our beloved cat ,the Mighty Hatfield. Visiting at our new and quite monolithic hospital requires a great deal of walking . Daily  I visited my love walking essentially half the length of the too large structure using my straight cane and daily I walked in my home unassisted feeding , watering and litter box cleaning for Hatfield , I have to say that stepping into even that tiny bit of my wife's daily routine was exhausting . After the hospital and it's marathon walking I was beat .

I had ample opportunity to awaken old skills to cope with the problems of visiting in a huge building one handed and somewhat unsteady and it felt wonderful .
The pain hit me on her last day there , visiting , seeing her to pick up prescriptions and home and then going back there for an appointment of my own caught up with me . The thigh and calf pain coupled with lower back spasms is excruciating.

I have not felt this accomplished for quite a while and am enjoying the sensation , I found my own pot of gold but I had to crawl the last mile to claim it. Surviving is a great feat on it's own but to reap further reward comes with a hefty price tag . Keep on fighting , never give up. Phil.

I'M LEARNING TO WALK AGAIN , I BELIEVE I'VE WAITED LONG ENOUGH , WHERE DO I BEGIN

I'M LEARNING TO WALK AGAIN , I BELIEVE I'VE WAITED LONG ENOUGH , WHERE DO I BEGIN ?
fear
That feeling , that pure and natural gait as we walk , the weight of the leg aiding in the smooth movement of a step. God I want to feel it again. To enjoy the act of walking , to stroll , to cover distance in the way we were intended to , without the almost paralyzing fear and pain I feel now is a dream of mine.

Recovery , it is my focus these days . I push hard to .Make it happen , terrified at every step , will this body continue to deny me this process , once so instinctive , will I fall / will I let slip some small indication of the pain I feel ., causing a therapist to call a stop to my progress? Will this body , the traiterous thing , give up on me ?

Recently my therapy sessions have begun again, and coupled with the in-home work being done with me and with my own efforts to push through and walk as often as possible , .shit's about to ramp right up !! My nights filling even more with painful spasms and tightness remind me that there is a price to be paid for denying the stroke gods this victory
So my dear fellow survivors , I'd love to tell y'all that all you've endured was the worst of it , but moving forward hurts , hurts bad sometimes and the angry stroke gods do not like meddling , do not appreciate the arrogance recovery seems to inspire.

It ain't easy, I have beaten myself up regularly for not being further ahead after so long a time but every victorious moment has a cost , every jerky step forward causes two perfect and unnoticed steps backward. When we belly up to the bar at that old watering hole at the end of the recovery trail , I'll have a frosty one waiting for you , you tough mother you. Phil