greencom wrote:Fatman,
My God, that was an unbelievable story! It's good thing the blade did not connect or you would have lost your hand. You certainly have had more than your share of mistreatment at the hands of others, both physically and mentally. I can certainly understand your attitude and feelings. You have a lot of friends here and we sympathize with you.
Greencom
Thank you very much Greencom.
After my ex-room-mate had his second stroke, I was doing everything I could to take care of him during his recovery. He was diabetic, and after his second stroke, he was prescribed insulin, but he would not learn how to take his own shots, so I administered his insulin shots to him.
I did the cooking, preparing the meals making sure that all meals included plenty of vegetables. So I was the official kitchen bitch. But I didn't mind because I enjoy cooking.
But I was not able to do everything by myself. I needed help. He needed some kind of nursing care, but I could not afford it. I was publicly begging for some kind of help and literately down on my knees!
I couldn't handle it by myself. I needed help.
He has suffered severe memory loss, and half the time he didn't know what planet he was on!
Also he had become paranoid and delusional and even violent, then one night he attacked me. I was lucky I didn't lose my left hand. But my wrist was fractured and for almost a month my had stainless steel pins in my wrist and my forearm was in a cast.
I was in so much pain, I was unable to take care of myself and I was deeply depressed. A friend of mine who was a therapist, he arranged for me to spend a few weeks and Santa Teresa, a psychiatric facility. They were really nice there and took care of me, then on the day I was taken home, the cast and the steel pins were removed.
It was good to be home again, and well, my ex-room-mate was in jail.
I finally had my own personal freedom. He had become a tyrant.
He actually resented me. He was only slightly overweight but he had high blood pressure and high cholesterol levels, and he resented me, because despite my obesity I was in much better health. At the time I weighed 310 pounds, but my blood pressure has always been normal, and my cholesterol levels are actually lower than normal, he he would always ask how I could be so fat and not have high blood pressure.
I now weigh about 400 pounds, but in my most recent lab results, my cholesterol was only 140 and my triglycerides were only 90 and everything else in my lab results were within the normal range. My thyroid levels were at the low end of the normal range, but still within the normal range. Also, when I went to get the lab tests my blood pressure was 105/68 and my pulse was 56 which is kind of slow. but I have always had a slower heart rate and a lower temperature alike 97 degrees instead of the normal 98.6 degrees. When I first get up in the morning it's usually like 96.5 so I guess it's because of my slower metabolism. I don't sleep, I hibernate.
My ex-room-mate would actually get pissed off with me, because he had high blood pressure and was stroking out and here I was, weighing more than twice his weight, and I guess he thought I should be clutching my chest all the time and gasping for breath since I'm such a big fat-ass.
He was only 5 years older than I was. Back in February of 2005, I found out through a mutual friend that he was in the hospital with another stroke, his third one. I went to see him, and he was in a comma. He never regained consciousness and in march of 2005, he passed away.
He was only 58 years old, the same age I am now.
But since I have been living on my own, free from his tyranny, I'm actually in better health now than I was back in 2001 when he was living with me, because back than, I was under constant stress. He had become a real tyrant.
He didn't know how to take care of himself. When he was much younger, he drank excessively and ate mostly junk foods, and experimented with drugs. This was years before I ever knew him. He wasn't doing drugs anymore and before his first stroke he had a job, but his earlier habits had taken a toll on him, so he was on medications for high blood pressure. He had his first stroke in march of 1997, his second stroke may of 2001, and died after his third stroke on march of 2005. There is something seriously wrong when someone has three strokes in just 8 years.
Anyway . . . . .
Thank to the machete attack, my left hand is fucked up for keeps.
I'll never be able to play the guitar again, and my wrist is stiff and hurts on some days, so getting back to doing oil painting is out of the question.
I never liked sports, but now, I'm fucked up to where I can't do anything else either.
So, I just go on line with my computer, listen to music, smoke my pipe or a good cigar, and watch TV.
I like mostly science fiction movies and educational programming.
But I can't watch any movies that have sword fights in them.