So it seems to me that ever since I heard the pronouncement from my doctor about my left shoulder, I have begun to be somewhat of a grouch. Really... I find myself being short-tempered and snappish, even with my wife who wants only to help me through this continuing ordeal.
I guess it's possible that I have let myself sink into this feeling of helplessness. That somehow doesn't sound like me. Not even to me. I will admit that it has taken a tremendous amount of energy to keep my spirits buoyed and my attitude positive throughout this. God knows some days it was not the easiest thing to do. I feel as though I'm running out of steam. I need a shot of something good to get me over this hump.
Yes... yes... I know. "But consider that you're still alive", or "It could have been a lot worse you know". I have heard and thought these same lines on many, many days. I am reminded of this everytime I go outside for a break and run into a young fellow-resident here, who had a leg amputated below the knee following an ATV accident out in the country.
But that does not mean to say that my grief over my own situation is not valid, or legitimate, or deserved. It's like back when I was a child and my father left us. I could not grieve for my loss of him, or even talk of him. He was 'the bad guy' and therefore my grief at having lost my father at such an early age, was deemed illegitimate. It was a process that I was never 'allowed' to begin, let alone complete.
But I digress... I have to believe that it is this final realization of my diminished capacities, which has caused this shift in temperament. Up until now, I have been harboring this dream that some wonderful and routine surgical procedure, would return my arm's range of motion, while banishing this ever-present pain. Now I know for certain that this will never happen. That's a pretty big dream to have squashed.
As I heard my doctor intone his dispassionate assessment of my current condition, I was taken back in time. I was, by my own admission, quite a hellion as a young man. I had plenty of run-ins with 'John Law' and truth be known, spent most of my teenage years behind bars. After 56 court appearances in Quebec's juvenile justice system (Judge Gaston Lacroix became almost a surrogate father...), I was no stranger to hearing sentences pronounced on myself and others. And here I was so many years later, hearing yet one more sentence pronounced on me. But this time by my doctor. And this one had no liberation date. It was for keeps...
Sure, I tried to appear upbeat and cavalier about it. That's how I deal with stress, disappointments, near-death experiences and horror shows of all types. Put up the walls... that'll hold the world out. But that takes a lot of strength. A ton of energy. I need to let down my guard so I can replenish both of these. I have no other choice.
So in the meantime I will have to monitor myself. Surely there are better ways to get through this, without becoming a grouch or an asshole. I'm working on it, but so far... it's an imperfect art.
Okay... listen up, gang.
There are many people out there who do their damndest to make life hard for the rest of us. Whether it's through willful design, ignorance or pig-headed stupidity. You know the folks I mean... Those who park their shopping carts right in the middle of the aisle so that nobody can get through from either side, those who park their cars in the middle of a goddamn crosswalk or at the entrance to your driveway, the list goes on...
But I have to tell you that there exists a particular brand of socially-retarded dimwit out there, for whom there must surely exist a very special place in Hades (assuming that this fictional place were actually to exist). I'm talking about those hordes of walking sphincters (for there are many...), who rather than return their shopping carts to the outside corrals or to the front of the store, park them in the HANDICAPPED PARKING SPOTS!!!!!!
It is doubtless that you disingenuous, empty-headed, moronic fucks know full well who you are. What the fuck can possibly be going through your head, that you would do something so mindlessly fucking stupid? Were your parents related? Were you the defective sibling that should have been eaten at birth? Do you frequently attend family gatherings in the hopes of meeting a mate? What gives???
How fucking callous, unthinking and lazy are you, that you cannot walk the extra 10 feet across the roadway to dispose of the cart properly? To say nothing of the fact that you then expect someone of diminished physical capabilities to move your fucking cart for your lousy, socially-disposable carcass, before they can park their vehicle!!
So here it is... Fair warning! If I ever catch anyone doing this within my field of vision, physically diminished capabilities or not, I will take my cane and fucking beat you to death where you stand. Then I will impale you with said "Handicapped Parking Only" sign and leave you there like a grotesque scarecrow, so that your shell of a being might serve as a reminder to those other like-minded droids.
Um-mmm... not to put too fine of a point on it.
So it's now been 10 months and 29 days since my accident. I am now mobile enough to walk and have embarked on a physical fitness routine which might guarantee my mobility, if I'm smart enough to stick with it in the future. There's a very good incentive.
I never knew it would be so hard to find a new abode, or that so many obstacles would arise for those properties that we actually wanted to buy. It seems like 'Groundhog Day' everyday. Still, I maintain some degree of faith that all of this will sort itself out eventually. I'm not going to get into moaning and dripping about how long we've been at this, as it serves no actual purpose and let's face it... it's boring as Hell.
I will however go so far as to say that 'it got old' a long time ago. My prospects are looking good for returning to work, albeit on a temp basis at first. It's still progress and I welcome it. I've been away from my peeps for way too long now. I think the sense of productivity that this would provide, would only be a good thing.
I have found out recently that my current physical limitations, will in fact be of a permanent nature. This came as somewhat of a blow, as I had been harboring the hope that I would someday be free of pain and more viable than I am now. I will manage to come to terms with this in time, if for no other reason than I have no choice in the matter. We as humans are far more resilient than we give ourselves credit for.
Okay... whining session over. Now to get back to a good old rant.
