teddwebb

Shit happens every day, but it can always be wiped away…

Archive for the category “Life Sux”

20 Jul 2011

Pigeonholing God’s Saints

God Does NOT Pigeonhole His Saints

I have felt the drawing. I have felt the calling. God has called on me for years and I have struggled and fought with God for years because “Tedd knows what is better for Tedd than God does,” or so “Tedd” had seemed to think that for years, until I gave in to God’s calling, his drawing. I know that it has taken a good toll on me, my resistance, my lifetime of resistance, but now that I have given in to God’s drawing, His calling, my life is much better, even though the mental and physical damage is already there and can never be undone. Well, I guess when they invent time travel, it could be undone! LOL!!! But because I have God’s presence in my life now, everything and anything is bearable. I have a loving and trusting relationship with God, one based upon Complete Love and Complete Trust.


…the drawing…

There Can Be Only One!

There can be Only ONE!

My story is not uncommon, or unique, or special. I have known, personally known over 30 preachers, pastors, ministers, whatever you want to call a “Man of God” (“Man” meaning mankind or person, so that includes women) in my lifetime. The common thread is that they too feel the calling, they feel the drawing from God, but they are not sure what that drawing is, at least they try to pretend or fool themselves into believing that they do not know what God wants them to do, but they really DO know what God is calling upon them to do. Then they deny that drawing because they are afraid, because it is TOO BIG, TOO MUCH for them to handle, to understand, to take on, and it is NOT what they had planned for their lives. God is asking them to shed everything and follow him down an uncertain, foggy path, when they already had clear plans laid out for their lives and that is a huge decision to make, and a scary decision to make; it is a leap of faith.

The Holy Spirit

Many, like me, fight the drawing – that’s The Holy Spirit tugging at your shirt sleeve trying to get your attention – for varying lengths of time, going through ups and downs, usually living in a state of spiritual confusion, almost a type of self-inflicted Purgatory, if you would. For me, I know that I delved deeper and deeper into The Word, and I studied all other major religions, and I was like a virus, weaving my way throughout all the scriptures learning more and more, but still a virus, still sick inside. Everything I studied in the various worlds’ religions had common threads leading me back to God, always to God. And in the end the only way to obtain relief, to kill the virus, the sickness, was to accept The Holy Spirit, allow it to fill me up completely and accept God’s calling. There’s an old timey hymn and part of the chorus is, “he’s calling for you…he’s calling for me…”

When a Preacher decides to follow God’s calling, His drawing, it is the biggest decision that She will ever make in Her entire life. Gone are all the hopes and dreams and plans that She made for Her life, all Her fantasies about shopping for the right pair of shoes to match Her business suit for that high-paying job with the corner window office. Now She will spend Her days visiting sick parishioners while She’s wearing comfortable shoes because She’s on Her feet all day long. She won’t be living in the 3 million dollar house on the hill overlooking the ocean, because a Preacher doesn’t make that kind of money! However, She will receive the hugs and kisses from countless multitudes of people that She has counseled in their darkest hour; She will receive limitless blessings from talking to people on the phone that are at their rock bottom, and perhaps some are even ready to end it and She had talked them back from the edge of death; She will share in the happiest moments of new couples lives as She performs marriage ceremonies or baptizes babies. Best of all, She will receive The Holy Spirit of God each Sunday as She preaches and spreads The Word of God to those who would listen.

I am, by no means, not an expert nor do I have some special power, but I have 40 years of going to church under my belt. Growing up, I went to church Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night and every 2 months or so, we would have a week-long “revival” where we would go to church EVERY NIGHT and then spend ALL DAY on Saturday and ALL DAY on Sunday at church. I have heard, in person, easily 50 different pastors preach full sermons, and it’s probably more than fifty! I have sat in church and not a peep was heard and I felt nothing. I have sat in church and “Amen” and/or “Praise God” and/or hands were in the air, or the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up and I’ve felt electricity run down my spine, and I’ve also been in sermons where I’ve felt The Spirit so strong that I almost jumped up out of my pew because I was so electrified and crying from feeling The Holy Spirit!


Time for church…

Hurst Chapel

Ding! Ding! Time for church…again!

So you can place me in the category of someone who actually “feels” The Holy Spirit. To me, when I feel The Holy Spirit, it feels like electricity running up my spine and all the hair LITERALLY stands up on my arms and the back of my neck. The stronger I feel The Spirit, the more electrified I feel, the more the hairs stand up and then I start to cry uncontrollably, but they are happy tears and throughout this ENTIRE process, my heart is just filled with overwhelming love, just like the love I feel for Sheri, well almost; it’s very, very similar to the love I feel for Sheri.


The Holy Spirit Fills Me…

The Holy Spirit

AAAHHH! I’m being electricuted!!! Turn off the power!!!

Given that I feel The Holy Spirit, when I sit in church and I hear a Preacher giving the sermon, I either feel The Holy Spirit or I do not feel The Holy Spirit. If I feel The Holy Spirit then I call that a good service. If I don’t, then I would call that a boring service. If I feel The Holy Spirit consistently from the SAME Preacher, then that Preacher is touched by God; that Preacher is Holy; that Preacher is following God’s Word; that Preacher is filled with The Holy Spirit; that Preacher is a Saint among mankind. You don’t have to do some kind of great miracle to be a saint in this day and age. If you make a positive difference in your community via The Holy Spirit, by following and obeying The Holy Spirit, by doing God’s Work, by spreading God’s Word faithfully via The Holy Spirit by giving yourself over to God and letting your words be His Words when you Preach, then you are a Saint.

There are fewer and fewer Saint’s among us these days because fewer and fewer people are willing to be selfless. That is what it takes to become a Saint. You feel the drawing, the calling by God to become a preacher. You listen to God’s calling and you adhere to that calling; you obey, fully, selflessly. You devote your life, entirely to the work of God, to fulfilling God’s work, to listening to The Holy Spirit and giving of yourself totally over unto God’s hands to do with as God would have. That is a Saint. And you know how you can tell? You sit in a pew and you listen to them preach on Sunday. That’s how. You listen to their words and if their words offend you, good because they are telling you to stop following the path of man and start following the path of The Word, to start following Jesus.

Jesus' Saints

When She decided to listen to that calling, She made the biggest decision in Her life. Her life would never be the same. She chose the hard path, but the spiritually rewarding path, the right path. However, once She started down that road, She devoted Herself fully, She turned Herself fully over to God. She became a Saint for God. And God blessed Her doubly by sending The Holy Spirit to Her, to guide Her, to lead Her, to show Her the way, and to help Her spread His message, His Word to all those who would listen.

God blessed Her with an overabundance of The Holy Spirit so that She could preach His Word to ALL His people. God does not care that She is a woman. She has a powerful gift of speech. Her faith is strong and unwavering. She has given Herself fully unto God. God would not waste the gifts He blessed Her with only to pigeonhole Her into the role of a babysitter just because She is a woman. God has not blessed Her with the gift of eloquent speech and filled Her with an overabundance of The Holy Spirit, just so She can go and sing, “so the bible tells me so” to small children who still pick their noses and have no actual, tangible concept of God, let alone possess the capacity to grasp the ideas and concepts she is capable of wielding to convey God’s Word. Far too often have I seen Men of the Pulpit take their fellow, equal, often more in touch with God, Saintly Women of the Pulpit, and pigeonhole them into the chauvinistic, “classical female role” of childrearer, instead of giving them the respect they deserve, instead of giving them their rightful place behind the Pulpit! God is smart and not a chauvinistic pig, so why do so many male Preachers question God and outright DEFY Him?
Dear Lord, please help stubborn male pastors to open their eyes to the extraordinary talents women possess.
Amen.

I’m so pissed off at Male Chauvinist Pigs!!!

 

>ð|~@-@~|ð<

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26 May 2011

I hate emotional days

Emotional Days

Multiple Sclerosis, Unknown Neurological Disorder, Epilepsy Seizure Disorder, Schizophrenia,
Narcolepsy Sleep Disorder, Multiple Severely Bulging Discs, Hot Flashes, Cold Flashes,
and Sudden Fits of Crying, Deep Sadness, Inability to Control One’s Emotions.

GOD, I HATE THE EMOTIONAL DAYS!

I woke up this morning, with my new CPAP, just delivered yesterday, and I feel like
I’ve had a tiny bit of rest, but still exhausted, mostly psychological because,
well, I have a new CPAP. Isn’t that what getting a new CPAP is supposed to do, make
you feel more rested? Psychosomatic response me thinks, sadly, not wanting to think,
but knowing, feeling the exhaustion in my muscles, the heavy, weighty drag of every
movement, like time has slowed. Even the thought of taking a shower and the energy
it takes to wash my hair is dreadful. Can’t I just go like a greasy-haired homeless
man? No! Sheri will not have any of that! So I lift repeatedly lift each leg, lumbering
into the shower, like the march of prisoners to death row to face the grueling task
that awaits, the painful, long, drawn-out, thorough, arduous washing of the mop,
also known as my hair.

I am drained, in a haze, a fog, not really aware that I have finished my shower
and not even remembering how I got from the shower into the living room, but the
ordeal is over. Now it is time to get out this mornings and this evenings set of
medication to take. My God, who on earth should have to take these many pills just
to not suffer so much? My previous evening pills have already begun to wear off,
so my head and neck are already itching as I reach for the Atarax, my shoulder already
is beginning to feel like it’s being drawn and quartered as I reach for the Neurontin.
I have a pang of fear of what might be and a flash of past memories of what has
been as I reach for my many anti-seizure meds and I say a little prayer, begging
God, “not today God, please Lord, don’t let me have any seizures today, at least
not any big ones.” This dance continues for what seems like an eternity, this dance
of wild swings to and fro from of my saviors, my pills that help some at least,
at least sometimes they help, to the painful reality of the years of suffering,
the tears, of what has been lost, of what more will be lost, and of what will never
be, and naturally I perfunctorily fill up two bottles with pills, a morning bottle
and an evening bottle.

I take my morning bottle of pills with me into the quiet, lonely, cold, dark living
room and wake the birdies, our two pet birds, Virge and Goober. I don’t care much
for food these days, not really. There are only a few things that I really care
to eat so I eat to stay alive and to keep Sheri off my back. Mostly I live on granola
bars, flavored water, and soda, mostly…mostly they come out at night, mostly. I
do have to eat something with substance when I take a mountain of pills though,
or else my system rejects that many chemicals and throws them up. This is one of
the very, very few times that my body is physically capable of actually throwing
up.

Back in my youth, my Army Partying Days, I could outdrink anyone. I would drink
a 1.75ltr of Vodka and THEN we’d go out partying for the night and I would NEVER
throw up. I’ve actually had alcohol poisoning 3 times in my life, the last one almost
killed me; the last one finally taught me the lesson I needed to learn. Apparently
being able to drink MASSIVE amounts of alcohol and NOT having the ability to throw
up is a VERY BAD combination which is not conducive for living! LOL!!! 🙂

So I eat a hotdog and I take my pills and then I stand in the living room and I
begin to weep uncontrollably. For no particular reason can I discern as to why I
should be so filled with such sorrow and yet, there I stand, shaking, tears flowing
freely down my chubby cheeks, the sadness of the world heaped upon my shoulders,
upon my heart, and I weep tears of sorrow, uncontrollable, heartfelt, mournful tears
of sorrow. I feel as though I am crying for all the pain and sorrow for all the
peoples for all the earth all at once and it is overwhelming, crushing, unbearable,
and I cry to God for help, for it to stop, but stop it does not. God does not intervene
for it is my turn to weep; it is Tedd’s time to shed a few tears for the sorrows
of mankind and feel the hefty weight and burden of the earth’s deepened sadness,
just my portion, and just for a few moments, and then it passes.

Again I am drained. Empty. A hollowed husk of a man that used to be Tedd but has been
emptied of all its contents and is now just an empty shell with a label on its forehead
called, “Tedd.” I collapse into my chair. Slowly, gradually, a gentle warmth rejuvenates
me, livens me, makes me whole again. Suddenly, perhaps not even before I am fully
lucid, a wave of cold chills wraps down my spine and spreads across my skin like
an amoeba moving through water. My temperature drops and I am flooded with waves
of depression and lethargy. So not only do my muscles feel like they weigh 10 times
their actual weight, with each movement an act of raw, brutal strength, but now
I have lost the will to move, the will to even breath. My chest feels heavy, breathing
is labored, and even the beating of my heart slows, as if hypothermia is setting
in, but I do not care. Whatever. Nothing matters. What’s the point in it all anyway?
I just wish I would die and all this pain and suffering would end.

Time crawls like a sloth slowly lumbering its way along a branch, gradual, in no
particular hurry, with no particular purpose really. Then the cold sweats strike
without warning. But were they really without warning? No, they weren’t really without
warning because we all know by now that when there’s a cold temperature drop, it’s
followed by cold sweats, then the horrific, panicked hot flash. Sticky, cold, like
the flesh of the dead is how my skin becomes as the cold sweats permeate my entire
body. I begin to shiver. I begin to shake. But I am not rocking and rolling, unfortunately.
The need to get out, to escape, to free myself from what I don’t know sets in. The
hot flash is coming soon.

I would like to say, without warning, or out of nowhere, but I know you, yes I know
you Mr. Hot Flash oh so well as to not be recognizable when I see you approaching!
No, you cannot sneak up on me! The hot flash starts slowly, then erupts rather quickly
into a full-blown, all-out, mother-of-all hot flashes. My skin is ice cold, I’m
covered in cold sweat, then my temperature suddenly goes through the roof and my
skin turns beet red, my mind races in confusion, I am overwhelmed with a sensation
of confinement. I feel confused, upset, frustrated, flustered, but most of all,
I have a massive need to get away, to get out, to run, to escape, but the need is
to escape from my own skin, my own body. That makes no sense, but in a monolithic
hot flash, isn’t that what everyone is supposed to do, escape from their own skin
because they are burning up? My mind races in confusion, my eyes glass over and
I can’t focus on any one thing for more than a few seconds and my emotions fluctuate
like the needle on an EKG machine, bouncing all over the place. For one second I
am angry, one second I am laughing hysterically, one second I am paranoid, one second
I am crying, one second I feel overwhelming love, one second I feel overwhelming
sadness, and for one second I feel nothing but emptiness as if there is no Tedd
left at all inside me. And I am scared. And I am upset. And I really am angry at
the situation as it does tire me out and leave me an emotional wreck. I have no
control. I am unable to stop it, unable to control it, unable to do anything but
be helpless and trapped in my own body.

God how I hate these emotional days! Thank God that not every day is an “Emotional
Day” and only every once in a while do I have these. Sometimes I think that my brain
stores up emotions in some kind of emotional battery or resistor and every so often
it just needs to discharge. I can tell you that Sheri sure does hate these days
too, especially the crabby days! LOL!!!

I am thankful to God for emotional days though. I am still capable of feeling all
the normal range of human emotions. I still empathize, love, laugh, cry, and mourn
and am not that empty shell at the end of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. No, that’s
when my time will come and I will be ready to move on to the next life because there
will be nothing left in this life. All we really have is our emotions after all.
We should treasure them and hold them dear.

Dear Heavenly Father, Most Gracious, Most Merciful, Most Forgiving

I humble myself before you in worship of your Holiness and Greatness and Wonderment

I thank you for giving me the strength to bear the weight of my Emotional Days

I thank you for the Wondrous, Blessed Gift of Emotions that you have bestowed upon
your children

Without emotions, there would be no love, no sense of loss without sense of beloved
value, no friendships

I thank you Dear Lord, God of all Creation for love and laughter and joy, the feel
of the sun on your skin on a warm day

I thank you Almighty God for all the blessings you have bestowed upon us
I pray Dear God that you would lead and guide and show us the way, be with us daily
in our walk of life, always present in the forefront of our minds and hearts Dear
Lord

For it is in the Name of The One True God that I do pray and ask these things
Amen.

 

>ð|~@-@~|ð<

Posted in Life Sux and tagged | Leave a comment
03 Jan 2011

All Prepared

    Well, I’ve not been able to pee for about three days now. That’s not EXACTLY the truth. I can dribble a little bit, but there’s nothing quite as unsatisfying and deeply depressing as walking away from the bathroom with a full bladder because all you could do was “leak a few drops,” and that was a 15 minute endeavor that took all your strength and left you exhausted!

     I do not know if anyone actually reads my blog other than my wife. It’s for friends and family to peak into my life and get an update on my health if they want, but people are busy these days and I am probably the most verbose person that I have ever met, and besides I really write because writing is my form of therapy anyway! LOL!!!  See, it took all of that for me to just get to the point! If you have ever had a catheter, you know that it is rather painful going in and coming out, and for me, rather painful the entire time it is in, tugging on your ‘innards’ every time you move.  I am so desperate right now, that I am seriously considering having Sheri drive me down to the ER to have them put a catheter in to drain my bladder! …almost ready for a catheter, but not quite yet…I will give it another day or so and see if this little problem clears itself up, which happens a lot with me. Yep, MS is a C R A Z Y disease alright! One day you can’t stop your eyes from crossing and the next day, the problem has cleared itself up…one day you have cerebral palsy symptoms and every 2 seconds you see a flash of white light and this lasts for 3 or 4 days and then you wake up one morning and you are back to normal. If I went to the ER every time I had a problem, I would LIVE at the ER!!!

     On Wednesday, the 29th, I had to go see this Orthopedic Doctor that I’ve never seen before. I told him that we should really get an MRI of my spine before he did the exam. He did not listen to me and it was an IME exam and I had to do it, so I just “Mustered Up,” “Manned Up,” and went through his torture exam and told him each time where it freakin hurt as he bent and twisted me around. God Almighty! It hurt so bad, but I “Nutted Up” and did it and was very cooperative with the doctor and at the VERY END of the exam, while he was examining the pointless X-Rays, which I had told him that it would be pointless to waste time and money taking X-Rays in the first place – but he didn’t listen to me either, he said, “we really need to get an MRI to see what’s wrong with your back before we can make a firm diagnosis.” Well duh shit you moron! I’ve spent 6 years studying medicine, medical science, specifically, all the medical science that is specific to me and my issues. I can read MRI films accurately on my own, better than the radiologist often, and occasionally I’ve caught stuff that the neurologist has missed. I KNOW what my OWN brain looks like in an MRI…

     I’ve spent hundreds of hours looking at ONLY my brain, not countless patients’ brains. I’ve seen my own MRI’s, CT’s, CT Angiograms, MRA’s, X-Rays, EEG’s, ECG’s, for 6 years over and over and over again, examined them, read the reports, watched the progression of my disease and the symptoms and medications, and I even know how to read blood workups. I’ve seen 74 doctors in 6 years. Not a single one of them has seen ALL of my records together to see the full picture and the full history. The ONLY doctor who was actually getting close and using “differential diagnostics,” plus he had Sheri and I doing research on our own since he knew that we had more time to research my specific condition than he did and he would examine what we brought him and determine if it was nothing or if it was something to explore, freakin DIED! He was our “Dr. House!” LOL!!! All the other neurologists are like most doctors. If you point out something they did wrong, or something that they missed, they get pissed off and end the appointment quickly. They don’t want to explore all avenues. They want to stick to the book, whether you fit the book or not, whether or not the treatment the book suggests is working for you. I now know more about headaches, seizures, MS, and reading MRI films than my Neurologist does! And she’s really, really pissed off at me now and doesn’t want to see me anymore. If only I was a freakin doctor!! I could give myself all the tests that I REALLY need to have done and be put on the correct combination of medications that I need. However, my HMO Medical Group won’t pay for the tests I need to have done unless a Neurologist writes a letter stating it is a “medical necessity” and my Neurologist WON’T give me a test that I request because I came up with it and have a theory that she did not think of first!

     OK, that’s enough whining and bitching. Wah, wah, wah… Any-who, so ever since this quack Ortho Doctor had his way with my back, twisting and bending me in all sorts of unnatural ways, I’ve not been able to move or lift or bend hardly at all. I bent over yesterday to pick up a screwdriver and I almost screamed out loud because it hurt so bad when I tried to stand up, and then when I tried to walk, my back had other ideas, like ripping my entire lower back into shreds, shattering my right hip, dipping my right leg in hot boiling oil and then paralyzing my right leg so that I could no longer move it at all! I had to take ALL of my pain medication, even the ones that I NEVER take (the narcotics), and I had to take the FULL DOSES of all my other pain medications (I NEVER take the full doses, I always take half doses).

     Today, I am All Prepared. I am sitting on a beach towel in case my bladder just randomly unloads while I’m sitting here or during a black-out/pass. I have my empty gallon jug of Crystal Geyser water with the large opening for me to have a larger target to aim at in case I have an uncontrollable bout of the “wee wee’s” and can’t make it to the bathroom in time! I raided my Super Special Emergency Use Only Pain Medication store. I snagged my bottle of Vicoden. I hate that crap. It takes the edge off of pain, but it really doesn’t do all that much more for pain for me than taking 5 or 6 Advil (but with less liver damage). The evil of Vicoden, other than the fact that it doesn’t have much effect on me at all, is that it MAKES ME NOT BE ABLE TO PEE! LOL!!! I do not see how anyone could get addicted to Vicoden. On my body, it has the same effect as taking a handful of aspirin, and I have never developed any desire or addiction to aspirin, or heard of anyone ever getting addicted to aspirin. It has to be a psychological thing. You can probably develop a severe addiction to LIFESAVERS candy!

     I’ve also had to pull down the dreaded Indomethacin. It will numb your pain, but it will eat away the lining of your stomach, burn a hole in your intestines, give you liver damage, and decrease the lifetime of your kidneys, but it will ease your pain and that’s a fact! I think Indomethacin is a medication that is given to people whose bones are breaking down, but in people with Multiple Sclerosis, it is given for Emergency Use ONLY for painful migraines. I have discovered that not only does Indomethacin work very good at relieve the sharp slicing, stabbing, throbbing, screaming agony of my migraines, but it also works well for overall body pain, kinda makes you entire body “float.” I usually take a dozen Indomethacin in an entire year!! So far in 2011, I have already taken FOUR Indomethacin.

     I started writing this at 11:38 this morning, but it’s taking me over 5 hours to write this. I have had these irritating dozing episodes where I can’t fall asleep, but I’m not awake either. I’m in a waking dream-state. I have hallucinations and dreams when I am in this state and when I come closer to the “awake” part, I suddenly become aware that I have been hallucinating or dreaming. And yes, there is a distinct difference between a hallucination and a dream. When I’m dreaming, it’s just like a dream when you are asleep, exactly like the dreams I have when I am asleep. I have narcolepsy and part of that is my freakish ability to enter REM sleep in an inhumanly fast pace. A hallucination is when I still see my surroundings and am still aware of everything around me, but there are EXTRA components/’things’ AND people dispersed throughout the house. For example, a few minutes ago, I had a hallucination where Sheri was here and I was talking to her about the placement of one of Virge’s toys on his cage and about moving it. Sheri is at work. She did not get up off the couch and go move the toy. THAT was a hallucination and when I came back to my wake state, I realized that. It used to freak me out, but I’m used to it now.

     Ah, let the pain medication flow freely…bring on the Morphine Baby! Yeah Baby! Let’s get this party started! Vicoden is for wimps. I have the good shit. I gots me some Morphine homie’s! Yeah Baby, let’s pop some Morphine and ride that smooth wave of pain-free bliss! Oh Wait! I forgot, there’s something freakish in my body that makes it so that Morphine has ZERO effect on my body. You can pump me full of Morphine from now until the cows come home and all it does it make me throw up. It doesn’t do jack shit for my pain. Hell, Morphine won’t even ease a headache. I just keep it in case we have a really bad emergency.

     Naw, I’m doin the junkie shuffle Man. I got my eyes set on my stash of Fentanyl Patches. Now THAT’S the Good Shit. It’s 100 times more powerful than Morphine. Yep, it is 100 times more powerful, but it comes with a hefty price in side effects! 😉

     I think I will just sit here in pain until Sheri gets home. She will love on me and pet me and make me feel better and help make the pain go away and she will help me see if I am just being a “Drama Queen” or if it would be smart or not to take such drastic measures instead of just holding on a little bit longer to see if it gets better or not. I get confused sometimes these days, well a lot actually, and Sheri helps me to snap my brain back onto track so I can think straight again! Fentanyl is a VERY hardcore narcotic pain reliever so I should wait and talk to her before I just go off and start taking it. That would be smart thing to do. So I’m gonna wait until she gets home. I love Sheri. She helps me get All Prepared most of the time when I am confused and can’t remember or can’t think clearly. And it is very, VERY difficult to think clearly when you are in agonizing pain.

     That has become the theme of my life: Pain. I think a lot about getting a cab ride down to the beach and swimming out into the ocean as far as I can and diving down as far as I can, so far that I run out of air and physically can’t swim back to the surface, no matter how hard I try. At first panic and fear will strike, then the realization that my pain is finally going to end and I peacefully give in, and then the agonizing torturous pain of drowning (drowning is not a calm act like you see on TV), then my pain is finally over. I have a couple minutes of agony (so what) to end years and years of pain, and agony. That seems like a pretty good trade to me and I am pretty confident that the amount of pain that I have and will continue to have for the rest of my life will accumulatively outweigh that of those few moments of drowning.

     There’s just one little problem…well, a few little problems. Sheri will be devastated if I were to kill myself, even if it were to end a lifetime of pain and suffering. My Mom and Dad would be crushed. I’m their only child. My family would be hurt. They are all strict Southern Baptists and even though I would be ending decades of agonizing pain and suffering and mental degradation, they could never understand. My Friends would all be deeply hurt and saddened. However, Sheri and my Friends, after a short while, after their initial grief and shock had worn off, would come to understand and to a sort of peace with it because they would understand and would rather remember me as “me” and not watch me writhe in agonizing pain for decades and degrade mentally. They would know that I had made peace with God and that my mind was fading away into nothingness and I was no longer going to be “Tedd.” I would mentally cease to even be “Tedd.” I would just be a blank, empty, drooling, semi-conscious lump of flesh who could not speak, only grunt and scream, or move or see or hear, but could only feel agonizing pain and did nothing but scream constantly, even screaming in their brain because no medication could stop the pain and that the thing that used to be “Tedd” was long gone and this lump of flesh was just something that spent day and night screaming in agonizing pain for no reason.

     Nope. No cab rides for me today. I am still “Tedd” and I can still remember most of my relatives and long term memories, and I can think fairly well most of the time. Sheri is a Saint among Women! I Love Her So Much and I don’t know what I would do without her. I guess I would be licking a Fentanyl Patch right now instead of putting it on my arm so that I would get the full 72 hour dose all at once in hopes that I would overdose and end this pain right now. Nope, I’m gonna wait until Sheri gets home.

>ð|~@-@~|ð<

Posted in Life Sux and tagged | Leave a comment
03 Nov 2010
1 Comment

Ah…it’s a beautiful morning…

The sky is clear and you can see forever.

The birds are singing and we have a lot of different birds up here.  It reminds me of those Discovery shows when they are in the Amazon Jungle!  LOL!!!

Sheri and I slept in a little late this morning cuddling.  I like to cuddle.  I’ve always been a big Teddy Bear Smile

Unfortunately, Sad smile  today is a rather high pain day.  I’m having a rather clear thinking day so far.  I hate dementia.  It sucks being 38 and having dementia, you know?  Anyway, I’ve come up with some good descriptions for 4 areas of pain that I have.  I have a lot more pain than this, but I’m tired of all this typing and can’t type anymore, so this is all I can describe for today.

I want you to take 5 freaking Phillips screw drivers and sit with them poking you in your spine, HARD, all freakin day long. 

And while you’re doing that, I want you to take a golf ball and press it at the base of your skull, right up at the top, just at the point where it connects to your spine, now take that golf ball and push it as hard as you freaking can into that hole there until you feel like you are going to POP your head off of your spine.

Take your thumbs and keep pressing on your eyes and releasing so that your eyeballs physically hurt inside their sockets and so that your vision is all psychedelic and weird and flashing white.

Take your right leg and twist it around sideways like you’re pulling a chicken leg off the chicken, and push it backwards at the same time so it’s stretched out, and hyper-extend your knee so that the pain in your knee cap screams every time your heart beats.

I think that’s a pretty good description of four of the 8 major pains that I have.  I’ve been trying to remember how to describe them better and trying to write things down and keep logs because my memory isn’t quite what it used to be.  Also, I’ve been doing it so that when I go to the doctor, I can actually tell them what’s wrong with me in a descriptive way that makes sense and that I can remember.

 

>ð|~@-@~|ð<

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