Be HEALED! (Thwack!)

UBER AWESOME: Today the nurse who checks my legs when I change my dressings said that she doesn’t remember seeing anyone heal so quickly from the condition my legs were in. My social worker (who rocks) just left my room in tears, commending me on essentially saying “screw everyone else, I’m going to do this my way” – and sticking to it. Right now I’m in tears as well; as there is absolutely no way I could have done it without the financial help & love I have received from many of you over these past hellish months.

It has been no small effort. Countless hours of research, reading, testing, trial & error went into this achievement, and though I loathe admitting it I share the same sentiments of my social worker who felt free enough today to express (through even more tears) that there were times where she was uncertain about me making it through this.

I told her that I am a warrior, and she didn’t hesitate to agree; I also told her about all of you, and how blessed I am.

For two or three weeks longer I still need to put on the dressings to let the new flesh grow stronger and thicker, as though there are no more open exuding wounds just scratching it opens it up due to how thin and tender it is, and I will always need to take the herbs, just less of them, eat properly, and drown myself in certain mixtures of teas…

So what very well be the final time, I ask for help, and this time I *really* need financial assistance, as I needed to get an internet loan last month due to Burning Man & everyone being away or needing the money for that. I will have only about $160  for the entire month and all I need in October, a little more than ¼ of what I usually have before your help.

I still have the juicer, jewelry and awesome video camera for sale, and the video camera I’m selling for nearly 50% off, even though it’s in brand-new condition & comes with extras. If you don’t need any of these things please consider a gift of a belated birthday present or just simply a celebration that I’m still alive – because if ya ask me, that’s a damn good reason to celebrate! (But perhaps I’m biased.)

My paypal addy is ksea@culturefluxmagazine.com, & you can find details on the items for sale on a previous post this month on Facebook. *PLEASE* help if you can, as this is the most financially screwed month I’ve ever had – and most important one to keep up on all the herbs, food, teas & last of the dressings.

Thank you for everything you’ve done to get me this far!

Love love love,

~ kSea

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And so I begin, again

Tell me a story, Pew.

 

What kind of story, child?

A story with a happy ending.

There’s no such thing in all the world.

As a happy ending?

As an ending.

From ‘Lighthousekeeping’ by Jeanette Winterson

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I begin this with a small measure of fear. There is a story to tell, but I have misplaced the boldness and control of words that I once had in my heart, the feeling that combined with the prose was an odd poetry – but the passion to write is still a part of me. Thankfully, I have not lost that, nor have I forgotten that the truest way to break my fears is to confront them, to own them, and by doing that, to make myself their master.

 

And so I begin, again, to tell the story that has no beginning.

 

~ ~~ ~ ~

 

Three months.

That’s how long my stay here was supposed to be –  three months.

At the time it seemed like more than I needed – I was feeling fine, energetic, and, except for my legs which I had been dealing with for a few years already, healthy.

In a way it was going to be something of a vacation – hot showers, hot food ad lots of it, and even someone to do my laundry whenever it was needed. When I got here to Maitri, I relished in all of these things, taking advantage of the extra time and complete escape from all responsibility to read and rest. I tried to write but found that it was difficult – everything was the same day in & day out, and there was also something else wrong –  the solitude that I held so dear was ripped away, replaced by incessant knocking on my door – people checking on me, telling me every day at the same time when breakfast, lunch and dinner were & asking me if I was going to eat, sometimes a few different people for every meal. After so many years  more or less thriving alone, all of the sudden I was treated like a three year old who was completely incapable of taking care of himself. Any hint of serenity was ripped away & I found myself in my own personal hell. Little did I know that the true hell was just beginning…

 

It’s now 3:40am, and I think that there’s a chance that I might sleep, so I’m going to continue this tomorrow – or at least try to…

 

Another day, & away

Another day similar to any other comes and goes, in my room with the door shut, in bed or in my robe. The only differences are more interruptions, that damned song they sang to me at lunch, and as always, wondering if she is alive and if so, wondering if she wonders what happened to the child she gave life to on a new moon, forty four years ago. Perhaps, if I ever found her or she, me, my birthday might mean something more.

I was always a lonely child. I was not the child my adoptive parents wanted, not the one that they bought. I was too quiet, too intense for them and their mundane outlook on life. Parents want to see something of themselves passed on to their children, like they got with my sister – she didn’t question, got good grades, went to the same college my mom went to. It comforted them –  but no amount of therapy could make me into who they wanted me to be, once I began to think for myself. They did their best to feed and clothe, and were wonderful at that – but I don’t believe that they love me. Not in the true sense of the word, whatever that is. I was alien to them. Now, even my sister, who I thought was my friend, has forsaken me.. The last time I saw her was for Christmas eve dinner, a couple months after I came to Maitri, and I felt too sick to stay. After  promises of coming to visit me from her, my brother in law drove me back here – and though she lives only a few miles away, I have not heard from her since.

No, my family now is the people I have met along the way, and I use my birthday to have the smallest excuse to gather them together. These are the people I love. These are the people who I am proud to call my family.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It’s been almost one year since I arrived here at Maitri. I think that I’ve watched the same amount of people die as I’ve seen get better and leave; I haven’t kept track, but I like to think that I’ve seen more get better.

There is no such thing as peace, quiet, or serenity here. Not in the sense that I need at least. I keep my door shut but that does little good, as my room is nothing of a sanctuary. Now that my health is improving I feel the road calling me more and more, feeling desperate to drive, to find a place somewhere that I am not known, park in a campground somewhere, in the mountains or on the beach, and be able to just sit and watch the sunset, or go walking aimlessly in the woods. That is the healing that I need now – along, of course, with all the herbs. I need to escape.

I applied for one of those internet loans yesterday and was approved for a couple hundred dollars, which will help me get my motorhome ready for a good drive. I realize that will screw me financially for next month, but at least I can hopefully get her tuned up and ready to roll with that little money, as there is no way I can afford all the herbs I need and that with the money I have after fees here. I tried to cut back on some herbs but quickly learned that wasn’t a very bright idea. Been trying to eat the food here as well, but that doesn’t really work either. The night sweats came back, and I feel my liver wondering what the hell is going on.

I need to get out, if only for a few days. I am not built to stay in one place for so long…

Feeling Alive…

9.2.11

5:13am

Out on the patio at Maitri, a night spent losing the battle of trying to sleep. I guess it’s time to call insomnia the winner, though I’m so damn stubborn I’ll probably try again after this entry.

The day before yesterday was perhaps one of the best days here, as most of it was not spent here – after an appointment at SFGH on Portrero and not in the mood to stand in the cold San Francisco breeze waiting for the bus, I started walking. Up to Mission, loving the stroll on the sunny side of the street, zigging and zagging around the people, traveling at my own pace and when hungry, stopping at Taqueria Can Cun for a veggie burrito – a slight cheat that was pure heaven. It’s amazing how my appreciation for the food I used to eat almost every day has grown -something I need to remember if I ever lose the love for a good meal. Still, I don’t think I’ve actually been hungry since I was admitted here – three meals a day is something that I’m not accustomed t0, and quite honestly, something that I don;t think I need. I like the way I appreciate food much more when I’m hungry.

After the burrito I walked down to 16th St. and looked up towards Church. I was surprised to realize that I probably could have kept on going, but the bus was right there – and I had already walked further than I have in almost a year, with minimal pain or discomfort.

There is no way I could have done that just a few short months ago – but thanks to all the herbs, research, help from others so I can afford the herbs I need  – and determination to get better, my life and health have made a 180 degree turn around. I’m winning the battle.

There is still a ways to go, but just that walk was monumental – I felt… I’m feeling ALIVE !

 

I’ve decided to start getting my motorhome back in shape and legal, which unfortunately comes with sacrifices – I need to pay off two old parking tickets, get it tuned up, smogged and registered, as I need to keep this feeling, need to get out on the road. Weekend trips to the mountains or quiet beaches… there is little more that I want right now but to get rolling. I am not a sedentary person, and something as simple as that will do wonders for my spirit. I just need to figure out which herbs I can cut back on in order to afford to pay for the few things my motorhome needs – the main things being the two tickets that have grown to $155 each, but I’ll do it – somehow, as a birthday present to myself.

 

And now, I try again for sleep… definitely need it as, although the sentiment  is there, this writing is crap. Harrumph.