Monday 15 August 2011

Worst Night Of My Life

So last night was literally the worst night of my life. Even worse than the nights when they didn't think I'd live through the night (At least then I had friendly Mr Morphine to keep me company). The day was pretty good, despite some minor 1st degree burns on my legs due to some spilt boiling water. Other than that, it was a pretty good day. Right up until about 8pm.
Many many years ago when I was 22, I got myself an ostomy, which is another way to poo. In case you don't know, a Colostomy is where they take your large intestine and basically pull it through a hole in your stomach and cut a hole in it so now everything that passes through your digestive system comes out that  hole and into a back which is attached to a flange which is glued (which means you have to change it regularly) over the hole in your stomach. An Illiostomy (which I have) is where they do the same thing, only with your small intestine. Personally, I think it would be tons easier if they just permanently affixed a flange to your skin somehow, but what do I know.
Now, AISH (Assured Income for the Severely Handicapped), being the cheap bastards that they are never covers enough supplies to last. I get 60 Catheters, about 30 ostomy bags, and 20 flanges for 2 months. Do the math, that's 1 catheter a day. And I usually cath 6-8  times a day which mean I'm constantly re-using catheters. Luckily all the time I spent in the hospital didn't stop me from ordering supplies, so I have a bit of a stockpile of catheters. Ostomy supplies, on the other hand, I've already burned through. The flanges generally last between 4 days to a week (if you're really lucky) and rarely last through a shower. No, some of us aren't in favor of showering only once a week, so I rarely have one last that long. And sometimes they don't even last 3 hours. More than once I've had to change it 3-4 times in 1 day, and if you get a bad box (5 to a box) you're really screwed. So usually after 5-6 weeks out of 8 I have to order some more and pay for them out of my own pocket. And usually, the place I order from (in Edmonton) screws up the order.
So about 2 weeks ago, like usual, I had to order some more. I had 2 or 3 left, so I figured I'd be ok through the weekend and however long (should be less than 2 days) they took to get here. They're supposed to send them through DHL right to the house. DHL is the only game in town, except the post office, which takes up to a week, plus our mail box requires a key, which my dad keeps in his truck, and is about a block away and too small for the package anyway so it would go to the post office, which is downtown and barely accessible. DHL is clear across town and surrounded by gravel, but they're SUPPOSED to bring it right to the house.
It was a Friday when I placed the order. Well, the following Wednesday there was still nothing and I was down to my very last flange. So a quick, desperate search though the various bags and boxes that had come home with my after my various hospital stays found 1 last box! At least I wasn't completely screwed.
Now, fast forward to last night. Still nothing here, and once again down to my absolute very last flange again, and several more desperate searches confirmed this. Well, ok, as long as this doesn't leak, I'm calling tomorrow to find out where the hell these things are.
Then, about 8pm, you guessed it, the damn thing's leaking (Insert Blue Rodeo song here). So I attempt to seal the leak with ostomy paste and some of that clear sticky crap they used the last time I had a wound vac. It sorta worked for a little while. Then started leaking more aggressively, so in desperation I took the used flange and even more of the wound vac stuff and sorta kinda hacked togeter some sort of home made flange, then using LOTS of paste, stuck it on. That actually worked surprisingly well . . . for a while. Then, again, leaking. More paste and desperation, but by midnight it had fallen completely off. So, took 1 of those nifty urinals I . . . "borrowed" from the hopical and placed that in front of my stoma (The piece of intestine that sticks outside the stomach) in hopes that anything that leaked would end up in there. Some of it did, most of it didn't. And now my stoma is bleeding too.
So about 3am, now soaking in blood and liquid feces (90% of the time it's liquid b/c it's on the small intestine and they did the original surgery too far up, then over the course of 14 surgeries 3 feet of intestine was removed a little at a time, meaning nothing digests too well) I finally give up and decide I've no choice but to spent the night in the shower and hopefully be able to get some results in the morning and get ahold of homecare and beg for a flange.
So I gather some assorted supplies I figure I'll need to make it through the night and put my shower chair in the shower, then get in after it. First order of business, rinse off some of the . . . stuff I'm half covered in. That felt good. Then, clean my chair (which was also partially covered). Then, bunker down for a loooong night.  Was exhausted by this point, but no way in hell I could get comfortable. So I played some Sudoku on my phone, planned out some things for various projects I've been working on, and mostly just tried to keep my mind off the current shituation. In total, I got maybe 2 hours of sleep in about 10 minute intervals. Veeery tired.
Then at about 7am, my dad comes in to the bathroom, somewhat surprised he asks "What the hell are you doing in there?" and "Have you been there all night?" The answers to these questions were "Going through hell" and "Pretty much." He disappears to search once more through the assorted bags and boxes while I rinse off the last thing I ate once more. Every joint and muscle is veeery sore due to the awkward position I've been in most of the night. Well, apparently good ol' Pa could reach some boxes I couldn't, cus he found 1 last flange. That was the high point of my year. So, I shower off and clean everything good, things in my guts have finally settled down a bit, I made it out alive!
Barely.  That's when I notice my penis and testicles are swollen to roughly twice their normal size. Guess being wet and covered in liquid crap most of the night didn't do them any good, or indeed, do any good for any of my skin. So I cath out about a gallon, and am probably brewing a UTI (Urinary Tract Infection) now, luckily I'm still on antibiotics for something else, so I hope that takes care of that. I think I got everything good, and stick the flange on, and . . . SUCCESS! Looks like I made it!
So I gather up my crap and get back in my chair. Leave the bathroom, dad gets in and showers then gets ready to leave. He's got 4 LONG trips to make today, so he's gunna be home late. While he's in the shower I make a call to my grandma to see if she can go by DHL when they finally open and see if that stuff's there. It wasn't, so after a call to the place in Edmonton we find out that apparently they sent it in the mail. So grandma goes to the post office, nope, nothing. And guess what! The new flange is now leaking! Apparently the area around my stoma as well as my nether regions are oozing a clear, somewhat sticky sort of gunk making it difficult for the flange to stay on. So I get on the phone and talk to homecare, and basically beg for a flange. About 20 mins later they show up with 2 flanges. 1 is useless (no bag with it), the other is too damn small. So I make the small one fit and homecare changes the dressings and leaves. More of the wound vac stuff to hopefully help it stick, so far so good, but my guts still oozing gunk, though it's slowed down a bit. My mom called to say she was gunna be coming by tomorrow on her way to Lloydminster (She lives in Edmonton now) so I begged her to pick up some supplies and bring them with her (TBH, I didn't hafta beg too much. Love you mommy!) So now I just gotta last until tomorrow (fingers crossed).
But, I am extremely tied, sore, and irritable so  if I'm a little Krass (or Bernie) I apologize in advance.

Wednesday 8 June 2011

Handicapped Hotrods

Figured while I got peoples attention with this whole media frenzy (maybe a slight overstatement) I should pimp this page too. Join us today!

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?sk=group_77478695239&ap=1

Tuesday 7 June 2011

Manic Media

So a few weeks ago I went to a local "convenience" store and, as usual, the access ramp was half blocked by a cooler and now there was an ashtray tower thing between the ramp and the door making getting in completely impossible for me. An elderly gentleman coming out as I was trying to get in say my problem and helped by moving the ashtray thing and holding the door. He then said to the manager, who was working at the time, that that thing is in the way for people who need to use the ramp. I added that that cooler partially blocked the ramp too. The manager responded with "Well I didn't build it, it was like that when I bought the place". Maybe, but that was 15-20 years ago. This stuff isn't cemented to the ground either. So, granted, I was a little pissed off. So when I got home I wrote the following letter to the local paper.
The following week I got an email from the editor of the paper asking if I would be willing to do an interview with them on the issue of handicapped accessibility around town and in general. I said I would be glad to and we met up that week. 2 weeks after my letter was published they ran the following article.
Now I do wish to point out right now that there are a few inaccuracies in this article. First, it was 11 months before I ever went home for the first time, and that was only overnight for the local car show, and I had to beg and plead with my rehab doctor for that to happen. It was over 17 months before I went home for good (or at least for longer than a few hours). Also, the Shell is just ONE of several places in town that's a pain in the ass to get in. And nothing at all was done until after this article was written. When it was just me, it wasn't important.
Anyway, shortly after that a reporter from the local news station contacted me via facebook and wanted to interview me for Access Awareness Week. The timing just worked out well. And so on June 1, 2011 the following was on the local news;
And so, the following week in the other local paper, this letter appears.
Now where did that come from? Funny thing is, none of the 4 people whos names are signed at the bottom were in any way involved with any of the rest of this. In fact, in my original letter I never even mentioned the name of the stores involved. But they had no problem mentioning my name several times in their "response". Which also brings to question, why "respond" to an article in one paper by writing to a different one? "We have helped him put his purchases in his lap and opened the door for him." So as long as there is someone to save me I'm alright? They obviously missed the point of the article and the letter and the news story completely.

Friday 29 April 2011

Gimp Rant

So it's been a while since I ranted about anything, time to set that right. What now you ask?  Well, a number of things all pertaining to being a gimp.


First, let me say that the next time I hear someone say "handi-capable" I'm going to run over someones throat! Do you call black people "achromicly challanged"? What's wrong with the word "handicapped"?





Hand·i·cap


[han-dee-kap] – noun


A physical or mental disability making participation in certain of the usual activities of daily living more difficult.



Well gee, it sounds like the right word to use for the given situation. Oddly enough, "Hand-capable" returned no dictionary results. Wonder why that is? Cus it's not a fucking word! And if anyone gets offended by the word "handicapped" I suggest they go out and buy a fucking dictionary, or use one of the dozends of free dictionaries online these days. I'm more offended by the word "handi-capable". It just muddies everything. What's wrong with calling a spade a spade?


And I DO NOT need someone getting offended on my behalf! The last little while I've been watching stupid videos on youtube and am sickened by some of the comments. Comments like "This is very offensive to people who are confined to wheelchairs. my uncle is a quadrapoligic and i know he would NOT find this funny. you guys are sick for thinking that a crippled person falling down is humorous" Well guess what bitch, it is funny. Why don't you ask your uncle if he finds it funny instead of assuming his brain stopped working when his legs did. 90% of the time it's us gimps who can relate to stuff like this that find it the funniest. And would it be funny if the guy wasn't in a wheelchair? If you laugh at anyone else, but then won't laugh because "oh, the poor cripple" isn't that just like saying "gimps aren't normal people, it's not ok to laugh"? And what's this "confined" shit? I'm not in prison! I could scoot around on my ass if I really wanted, but the chair is a lot easier and faster. I USE a wheelchair, I am NOT a wheelchair, or confined, or stuck, trapped, or condemed to a wheelchair.
I don't mind someone asking if I need help, ONCE. If I say no, than the answer is no, piss off. Don't keep insisting. If I needed help, I'd ask. Although that's better than the people who just grab on to the chair without asking. Try it and you'll find out that just cus my legs don't work doesn't mean my arms don't, so if you want a smack keep it up. And for god sake an elevator doesn't mean "straddle the crippled guys legs". Not too long ago on an elevator I had some . . . lady yapping on a cell phone (one of those idiots that has to talk loud enough that everyone in a 5 mile radius can hear . . . must be long distance) get on the elevator, put one leg on either side of my frount castors and back her large ass into my face. So I turned 90 degrees and ran into her legs. she bloody near fell on me. For christ sakes, where's the brain?
Anyway, that's all I have to say about that. Gimpin' ain't easy!

Rules of Car Show Etiquette (4/18/2011)

Originally posted to Facebook on Monday, April 18, 2011
 

So spring is more or less here, which means the best part of warm weather, gettin that thing you've been dying to drive all winter out and cruising and car shows. That being said, there are some rules to live by, which should be but unfortunitly arn't common sence. So I bring you . . .
Rules of Car Show Etiquette
BE RESPECTFUL!
Look, but dont touch (without permission, that is). No collector wants a well intentioned, but overly enthusiastic, show-goer smudging or scratching their property.
BE RESPECTFUL!
Avoid wearing a lot of jewelry on your arms and hands. Rings, watches, and bracelets can easily scratch a car. It’s also possible to accidentally scratch a car with belt buckles, zippers, and buttons.
BE RESPECTFUL!
Do not to eat or drink around the cars on display. No one wants to worry about sticky sodas or greasy, ketchup-laden burgers landing on or around their precious car.
BE RESPECTFUL!
BE RESPECTFUL!
Keep your pets at home! Your dog could care less and nobody wants anyone peeing on their tires!
BE RESPECTFUL!
Bikes, Skateboards and Strollers are a scary thing to see near someone’s pride and joy. Strollers are sometimes necessary but remember to keep them as far from display vehicles as possible. Bikes and Skateboards should be kept away from show vehicle areas. This also includes wheelchairs. I know, nobody chooses to be in one, but remember to be careful.
BE RESPECTFUL!
Keep an eye on your children. By all means, bring them with you and share the hobby with them, but teach them to be careful as they enjoy the thrill and atmosphere of attending a show. By following your example, they’ll soon grow to be conscientious enthusiasts themselves.
BE RESPECTFUL!
Feel free to ask questions! People love to talk about their cars and you might catch an interesting story or tip.
BE RESPECTFUL!
Don't start telling the owner what they did wrong or what you would have done different. It all goes back to the respect thing.
BE RESPECTFUL!
It may be "just an old car" to you, but but somebody put a lot of time, money, or both into it. Who knows, maybe that original condition unrestored '62 Ford was bought by the owners father brand new and passed down to the current owner when the father passed away. RESPECT!
BE RESPECTFUL!
Usually, garbage cans are provided. Use them!

Did I mention, BE RESPECTFUL!!!

Near Death and New Life (5/23/2010)

Originally posted to Facebook on Sunday, May 23, 2010
 
Hey y'all, just a quick what's up with me in case someone cares. Despite the odds, I am still alive. About 2 weeks ago they figured I was headed for the morgue. I went into the vermilion hospital Saturday night, may 8 and demanded to be transfered to camrose ASAP as vermilion seems to think all my problems are in my head and self induced. Was extremely dehydrated and unable to eat/drink anythink without throwing it up 2 seconds later. I vaugly remember being in camrose and then don't remember much until the following Friday. I woke up in icu at the university hospital in edmonton and was informed that they had performed surgery Wednesday and again Friday and had removed about 2 feet of dead intestine. I also learned that I should be dead. Not yet, I have things yet to do. I had a tube sticking out of my gut. Over the next few days I recovered amazingly quickly and awaited (hopefully) a final surgery, lucky 13. I also learned that the docs at the rah who did the initial and 5 additional illiostomy surgeries f'd up royally and kept trying to cover their ass. Tuesday I had the last surgery and they created a proper ostomy. By the next day I was off the icu and on to a ward. Now, less than a week later I'm nearly ready to go home again and live for the first time in 3 years. But, for a few days anyway, I'll be on ward 3E2, room 18 at the U of A and would love some company, so if anyone's in the area feel free to drop by. Take care,
The new improved Chris Repp

Rules To Tow By (3/23/2010)

Originally posted to Facebook on Tuesday, March 23, 2010
 
I run a towing company with my dad. We mostly do insurance writeoffs. The biggest annoyance with this is when the vehicle is at a residence. From directions to find the place to getting the hell out of there, some people just don't get it! So if you ever write off your vehicle, remember these rules;

* Learn left from right, PLEASE!
* Never use left or right!
* Learn which way north, south, east, and west are and use them!
* 'You can't miss it' is the last thing I want to hear.
* No, I don't know where the old schoolhouse used to be.
* Get your crap out of the car BEFORE I get there. I've got a long drive and don't need to wait an hour while you find your CD's and cell phone charger.
* It's not your car anymore. Remember that check you got from the insurance company? It's theirs now!
* I have no paperwork for you. Remember above? It's not yours anymore and I sure as hell wouldn't drive 300+ miles to 'steal' a 92 Caravan with 300k on it and a smashed frount end.
* I don't need your help backing up or loading, it's not my first day. Just get out of the way and it'll take 2 minutes.
* DO NOT lock the doors/take the keys. Who is going to steal a vehicle with no frount wheels?
* The keys are part of the vehicle, not a souvenir.
* I'm not going to 'fix it up' or do anything with it. Remember, insurance companies.
* It's just a car. It's not like it's anything special.
* The battery, stereo, and tires are part of the vehicle. Leave them alone.
* If you changed the wheels or stereo from non-factory, remove it before I get there.
* Don't park 5 other vehicles in front of it. You know I'm coming so make it easy.
* I DON'T CARE! I'm here to do a job.

Pointless (12/1/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Tuesday, December 1, 2009
 
I feel like a mushroom, kept in the dark and fed bullshit. I can never get a strait answer to anything and am completly ignored most of the time. I'm told I don't care so much I'm starting to believe it. I get blatenly called a lier. I'm treated like they can't trust anything I say. I get insulted and called 'lazy' and 'useless' and those are exact quotes. They actually tried giving me a bedtime like I'm a little kid! I got nowheres to go all day, I'm stuck in this fucking bed all day every day! Then I'm called lazy cus I slept for a half hour after breakfast? And that's another thing, I can take the plastic wrap off my own damn sandwich and open my own milk! And why do I need 2000 calories a day when I just lay in bed and barely burn any of that off? I have two arms and hands that work perfectly and I can wash my self, damnit! Frankly, I'd be better off at home. At least I'd have some freedom and not feel like a prisoner only with less freedoms. My stuff seems to grow legs and disappear too, pens, ect. Water, books, my phone get put where I can't reach them, lights get left on and glare in my eyes half the night reguardless of my asking multiple times to turn them off. What the hell's the point? Nobody gives s shit anyway, I'm just a drain on everyone and a pain in the ass. If I weren't here maybe 2 or 3 people would grieve for a little while then move on without the burden. I'm sick of it all!

Some people . . . (11/28/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Saturday, November 28, 2009
 
Ok, I am pissed right off! If you don't know, I live with my dad in a small shack. 5 rooms made up of a bathroom, kitchen, living room, laundry room and office/bedroom. Not a lot of room, and with 2 guys, 1 gimp and 1 who's home late and back on the road early most days, things don't stay the cleanest. The biggest things are taking the garbage out (pretty much impossible for me) and dishes (very difficult for me). So we found someone to come in a few times a week and do some cleaning. Sounds good right? Guess again! Some people just can't mind there own damn business andot stick there nose in where they have no clue!
Apparently, I can't take care of myself and I should be 'institutionalised' in a nursing home with 'my own kind' and I'm depressed and suicidal and I can't do anything on my own without supervision and my dad doesn't care cus he leaves me all alone and bla bla bla! GET REAL! I'm paralyzed, not retarded! Butt the hell out and mind your own damn business!

Life's A Bitch

Originally posted to Facebook on Sunday, November 1, 2009
 
I gotta get away for a while. I'm stuck here, I never go anywhere, i've got no friends close to my own age around here, no one to go to the bar or just hang out with, never leave the house unless its with dad. And my so called 'friends' are who knows where and if any of them do come by they just keep driving. No money and my $1200 a month is never mine cus dad takes it and if I say anything about it I'm an ungrateful asshole, i've spent 8% of my fucking life in the damn hospital and 77% of the time i've been gimped there too, I'm 25 years old and done nothing with my life, the only relationships i've ever been in have been lies, bullshit, and taken advantage of, i've never been anywhere, and I'm sick of all the bullshit. And nobody seems to give 2 shits about what I think, what the hell do I know, I'm just a dumb fuck and of course wheelchair = retarded. Even my own family seems more concerned with themselfs to ever bother with me unless I pretty much corner them, and then its still just a fleating curtisy cus I make them feel obligated. My whole life has been false hopes, broken promises, and fake dreams. Maybe its better off not to get your hopes up at all. Every time I turn around life kicks me in the balls. I feel like a prisoner, only with less freedoms. Less control. Fuck it! The hell with it all! I'm sick of this bullshit already!

OR; The Final Frontier (10/22/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Thursday, October 22, 2009
 
Talk about a damn gong show! They decide I gotta be NPO so the doc can put in a few stitches. And as if that doesn't make enough sence, the stroke of midnight they come in here and hide every scrap of food and anything close to water (including a bottle of saline) like I'm some sort of criminal that can't be trusted. Then leave the damn light on glaring in my eyes. I rang the bell for them to come shut it off, but that never happened. Eventually I fell asleep with it on.
Then this morning at 6am an OR nurse, which apparently stands for Old Retard wakes me up. I transfer myself onto the stretcher and when she asks if I want my head up I say no, then she cranks it up anyway, hurting my back. Then hits every wall all the way to the OR. I'm sure she voted in every federal election this country's ever had. She looked like her bones were half dust!
Then they want to stick an IV in my arm. That's about where lost it. Why? We need to hook you up to some saline. Why? Well because we always do when someone goes in the OR. For Christ sakes, he's putting in maybe 7 or 8 stitches and you guys make out like it's major surgery. Last time I had anything debrided total time from when the doc decided to do it to when it was done was 30 minutes and he did it right in the room, here it's 2 weeks! We're not using any annestetic, I can't feel anything. She still insisted that I needed the IV, and I seriously doubt she even knew what saline is. Pretty sure here suggestion would be to bleed me with leeches. I finally told her let's see what the doctor says. She disappeared and returned a few minutes later and never said another word about it. But she still had to stick the damn leads on my chest to monitor my heart. Oi! They were never hooked up.
Meantime, some 12 year old kid next to me there to get his tonsils out pouting and crying over every little thing. They take his blood pressure and it's "Ow! Ow! Owie! Ow! Braahahoo!" Suck it up princess. Of course his old man sits there looking o so important with the same dopey look on his face as the kid.
Anyway, when I finally got in the room with people with brains that didn't have cave rot, the doc comes in, offers me a coffee, then asks for bailing twine and a stapler and goes to work.
Half hour later I was back in the room. Doc says I should be going home Monday.

Parking (10/6/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Tuesday, October 6, 2009

There is a problem that I feel needs to finally be adressed. Disabled parking. I'm not talking about the number or quality of spaces, or about people who don't need them taking them from people who do. What I am talking about is the vast array of stickers, placards, signs, badges and so on across the world. Many times I've heard stories of people receiving fines because there badge isn't recognised when visiting another country or even state. If international drivers licences can be issued why not international handicapped parking permits? It's time to stop treating those with physical disabilities like criminals because they need more room to get in and out of their vehicle! This issue needs to be addressed on a global scale. Why shouldn't I be able to travel just because of my disability?

I'm not dead yet! (7/26/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Wednesday, August 26, 2009
 
Believe it or not, sensation and feeling are NOT the same thing. Just because I can't feel it when you run a feather across my legs doesn't mean it doesn't hurt when I smack my knee against the wall or somebody stands on my toes, or worse, pulls on this stupid catheder that I want out!
Don't tell me I'm full of shit when I tell you my feet hurt or my leg is sore, especially when you STAND there with your clipboard and white smock feeling o so superior to those pathetic saps stupid enough to end up here.
Unless you experience it yourself you shall never truly know, and I hope to god you never have to find out.
I have feeling in my lower body, what I don't have is sensation or movement. But that doesn't mean I'm dead. Quite the opposite. I don't NEED you to do anything for me. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the offer, but please do offer.
DON'T just take it upon yourself to jump in and make things more difficult. DON'T come up behind me and just start pushing, especially when I'm only going that way to get to the ramp! Ask and if I say 'No thanks' good enough. If I need help, I'll ask. That is not to say don't bother holding a door or any other comman courtesy, I'd do that for anyone including the able bodied.
And don't change you voice when you talk to me, start talking sloower. Paralysed, not retarded. Even if I was retarded, I still wouldn't appreciate it. Gimped, slow, or just dumb, we're all human and deserve to be treated as such.

Can Anyone Else Hear The Giant GONG!? (6/29/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Wednesday, July 29, 2009 at 3:36pm
 
So after nearly 2 weeks at the 'wonderful' RAH, the're shipping me back to Vermillion, yet again. Yay. But of course it's never simple. O no, not when Crapital Health is involved.
They tell me this morning I'm going, but nobody seems to know when. I want to get all my stuff packed up, but keep hearing 'later'. Finally at about 10:40 i find out the're coming to get me at 11. Well now it's a rush to get packed and ready.
At about 11 this fat ass (it literally stuck out behind her at least 8") EMT comes in there and "O, we can't take the wheelchair." Wait, what? They took it last time. O well, it's not like I need it or anything . . . O wait, yes I do! If someone had a prostetic leg would you leave that behind?
O, but they have wheelchairs at the hospital. Ya, hospital chairs moron, and those things are dogs. My chair cost $3800 and the RoHo coushin was another $600. Don't think I'm gunna leave that at the RAH with all those lowlifes and losers around, not to mention some of the patients and visitors they get in there.
Of course, when they called to arrange transport they decide the same ambulance can take two people, and not Chris' legs. 'But even if we were only taking one person, theres no room for a wheelchair.' Since when? It fit in the back of a little freakin Cavalier, but won't fit in an ambulance? The wheels come off and the back folds down, genius.
And the whole time, little miss lard ass is rolling her eyes and mumbling under her breath. They took my vitals. My blood pressure was 129/80 and my pulse was 124. Just before they got there my BP was 105/55 and my pulse was 65.
So after almost an hour they decide the're gunna courier my chair to Vermilion. Well, I've been here for two hours waiting to see what's missing if/when it gets here.
O, and why the hell can't these little geek EMT's drive? The whole trip it was speed up, slow down, speed up, slow down, and weave back and forth. You could feel him turn the wheel three times to get around a gentle curve. Smooth as a brillo pad.

Lifes Easier If Your A Lowlife (6/27/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Monday, July 27, 2009 at 12:58pm
 
So I open the paper this morning and what do I see? Some loser addicted to morphine "cus they gave it to me!" Well, that's not the part that really pissed me off. What really got me is the fact that he's been on AISH for the last 10 years! And says how greatful he is that such an organization was so willing to help him. WHAT!?!
If you don't know, AISH is (allegedly) Asured Income for the Severly Handicapped. Now how in the hell is being a junkie a 'severe handicap'? Yet when I applied, they screwed me around for over 6 months, denied me, had to go to an appeal board and be treated like I'm just some lazy douchebag who can go pump gas somewhere, i'm just to lazy. And then when I do get approved, they want to re-ascess in a year to figure out if I still qualify. And they won't back-pay for all the months they screwed me around cus "you've managed fine so far." Sure douchebag, managed only with the help of friends and family, and gotten way behind on bills just trying to survive.
Now, what the fuck does severly handicapped mean? I want to work. I hate sitting around doing nothing. But I'm sure as hell not going to type numbers into a computer the rest of my life!
I wish I would've been a loser and got addicted to morphine too, instead of living with the pain, which evidently I 'imagined' until my leg magically split open and drained a bunch of pus. Would make things easier.

Where has my life gone? (7/25/2009)

Where has my life gone?

Originally posted to Facebook on Saturday, July 25, 2009
 
Where is it? Was it ever here? I'm nearly 25, and yet I have nothing to call my own. No possesions, no money of my own, no job, no life. I can't even go for a drive when I'm stressed out any more.
Worse yet is the lonelyness. Nobody to care for, or with, nobody to have, to hold, to love. No family, no friends that exist in a non-digital persona, just emptyness.
That is not to say there are no goals or no destinations, but I'm sure tired of traveling this road alone and keep getting shoved to the ditch.

The Best Weekend In A Long Time (6/21/2009)

The Best Weekend In A Long Time

Originally posted to Facebook on Sunday, June 21, 2009 at 9:02pm
 
I had a great weekend. Saturday was the Vermilion car show, so of course I had my truck there. Early in the day it looked like it might rain, but it cleared up and was HOT! I ended up with a bit of a sunburn, but it's already turned to a tan. There wasn't a huge amount of vehicles there, probably partially due to the weather, but there were some nice ones. They had sign which said "Please Do Not Touch" where you register, so of course I took one and crossed out do not and wrote underneath so it said "Please ------ Touch! You Can't Hurt Anything Anyway!"
One of the definite highlights of this weekend, and probably this whole year, was when Dave Mitchel from Lloydminster let me sit in his '68 Vette (4-Speed, 327, Convertable) and got a picture. I was a little worried about scratching something trying to get in and also about the leg burners down the side, but he said not to worry. I suppose where there's a will there's a way, because the transfer went supprisingly easy. The car sat about a foot lower than my chair and there was about a foot between the edge of the cab and the seat. So put my legs in first and lowered myself beside the seat, then into the seat. He moved my chair, closed the door, and took the picture. After he moved the chair back in place and helped me back in.
The rest of the day went good too. My brother and I both won awards in our classes (Me for my truck, and my brother for his bike). We still had to get ready for the next day.

Sunday morning we woke up at 8:30am, late! We had to get to Vegreville before before 10, and it's an hour drive. We still had stuff to do before we left. My brother went out to start the truck and came back in about 30 seconds later to let us know that sometime during the night some drunk guy decided to pass out across the seat. The dog quickly chased him off. There was also an overcast and it looked like rain. We finally got going and arrived in Vegreville around 10:00. We unloaded my truck and got it in place, and my dad and brother went to the grocery store to get some pop and water and ect, and also pick up breakfast from A&W. I looked around a bit while they were gone, and right across from us was Dave Mitchel (The guy with the Vette). And parked beside us was the gentleman with the '50 Ford we met a few years ago in Elk Point who liked my flathead so much. The rain was teasing us all day, a few sprinkles here and there, but it never did actually rain.
I got lots of pictures, but a lot of the vehicles on display should have been in the parking lot. Seriously, an '88 LeBaron? So one of the tennis balls out of my lovely non-functioning fake alcohol injection syetem mysteriously dissapeared. O joy. At about 12:30 my brother and I went to watch the demolition derby. The first heat was like watcing grass grow, the second was a little better, but not by much.They only ran like 3 or 4 cars at a time! Then they did some flat track bike racing. That was ok. Then they had some booooring RC BS, so we went back to the truck. Once we got there I that the missing tennis ball had been returned. We went to get some food from one of the concession booths and once there I found that I had lost my camera. We retraced my steps, sort of speak, to no avail. We went to the booth where we registered and asked if anyone had turned it in. They took a description of the camera and my name and phone number and said if anyone found it, they'd call.
After looking around a bit more we went back to watch the rest of the demolition derby. 1st the 4 cylinders, boring again, then the trucks. They ran all the trucks at the same time. There were 10 and that was a good show. These guys actually got after it. We went back to the truck and wandered around a bit more before they started handing out awards. I got $30 worth of fuel from FastGas, which pretty much payed for the trip. No trophies for us today, but that's ok.
We loaded up and got ready to go. After we finally got out of there and got about a block away, my phone rang. They had found my camera! All day it seemed like it was going to be bad, then turned out pretty good. The rain held off and we had fun. All and all, it was a great weekend.

I WANNA WALK! (6/18/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Thursday, June 18, 2009 at 7:34pm
 
Twisted Sister :P

Anyway, I just got home from an appointment at the glenrose (rehab hospital) a little while ago. While I was there, my doctor asked me if there was anything I wanted to do but couldn't. Well of course the obvious answer was 'ya, walk!'
Well then to my surprise, he suggested the possibility of walking with my legs in braces, basically using crutches with my arms. Though I'd still be largely using my arms, I am intregged by this prospect.
There are, however, multiple risks and complications to this. First, the joints in my hips and knees are stiff and really need to be streeched more. I can't walk if I can't stand up strait. Secondly, my bones are brittle. I have ostioperocess and have had some wierd bone formations in my leg. Also, the ostioperocess resulted in a fractured femer in my left leg last december. They had to put a rod in and two pins in my knee. However, since they didn't think i would be walking on it, snd also had some infection in my thigh, they decided not to pin it higher so there is the possibility of the rod moving if i put too much strain on the leg. Also, my feet are swollen up 3 times their normal size most of the time lately. This has to be dealt with before anything else, weither I walk or not. I also still have open areas on both heels. Then I also will need a lot of upper body strength. Well, no real problem there, but it's better to have too much than fall on my face. I would also have to stay in Edmonton for approximently 6 weeks and have roughly 5 hours of theropy for 5 days a week.
Even with all those issues, I STILL WANT TO WALK AGAIN! Even if I only take 2 or 3 steps.

Sunday Morning Christians (5/4/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Monday, May 4, 2009
 
One thing that really annoys me is the 'Sunday Morning Christians". You know, the ones who act so high and mighty and are always front row, center at church on Sunday morning, then lie, cheat and steal the rest of the week. The ones who believe in a loving, forgiving god then tell people they’re going to hell because they don't go to church. If God is loving and forgiving, only the people who really want to be there would end up in hell. What kind of father would cast their child out?
Also the people who try to tell you stuff that's in the bible when they have never even opened the book. The ones who think Jesus or God wrote the Bible, or quote one thing taken out of context to try and support their views. Honestly, preaching to everyone will never get you anywhere. Sharing your beliefs in a non-judgmental manner a lot more sensible.
And one more thing, these people who "praise god" for everything. "Oh, it's raining, hallelujah! My headache went away, praise Jesus! I just took a dump, thank God!" It really gets obnoxious really quick. There's nothing wrong with thanking God, but if you thank him for every little thing, what happens with something you really should be grateful for?

Swine Flu "Pandemic" (4/29/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Wednesday, April 29, 2009
 
Pandemic? Hardly. Every couple of years something else comes along that will "Destroy Humanity". A couple years ago it was bird flu, before that SARS, remember how we were all gunna die from Y2K? Aids, Polio, the black death? It's never going to end, people will always panic about nothing. The few people who have died from this had compromised imune systems already. Nobody mentions the people who caught it and got over it. In a few years it'll be 2012 and we'll all die from that too.
The media doesn't help the situation. And with the internet and to the second 24 hour 'news' all the time, usually causing the news networks to hype up any story, as evident with this one. Is humanity going to be destroyed? Perhaps one day, but not from this.

Disablilties (4/23/2009)

Originally posted to Facebook on Thursday, April 23, 2009


One thing that’s really been bugging me lately is the incredible pouting of people with diabetes claiming it's such a horrible disability. It is NOT a disability at all. It is a perfectly manageable disease that in no way should affect the quality of anyones life. If you don't want to look after yourself it's your own damn fault. I have been diabetic since 1988, when it took 2 minutes to test your blood sugar, not 5 seconds, strips were cheap and monitors were expensive, and less was known. You never hear people with asthma wine about how hard they have it. Get over it, it is not a disability. I am diabetic, epileptic, a T4/T3 paraplegic, and I do not consider myself disabled. As far as I am concerned, disabilities only exist within ones own mind. Be grateful for what you still have instead of crying about what you lost.

Intro

So for a while now I've pccasionally been ranting in the form of the ocassional note on facebook, but someone suggested I should get an official type blog, so here it is. Firstly, lets get a little background on me.
I'm Chris, I'm 26, and since August of 2007 I'm a T4 parapalegic. I think I'm gunna start by posting some of my better rants from facebook here along with the date they were written, then we'll see what else grinds my gears, and probably find more stuff to bitch about. Enjoy, and if not, then screw you, don't read it.