So, if you "follow" my Twitter "feed",
you know I made a quick note on New Year's Eve about not making any
resolutions. However, for the same reason, you also know I promised that
this past weekend (decently-in to the New Year, some might
say) was a big one in my history. Let me start this blog off by
explaining that to anyone who may be unaware & curious. (Or just one
or the other, let alone neither.)
In order to explain why I'm
celebrating a "New Year" 3 weeks late, I have to actually go back a bit
more than a year. Join me in the Wayback Machine, & let's head back to mid-December of 2012.
It
was my birthday, & I spent a lot of it with my Mom, sister,
brother-in-law, & my 2 nephews over at their house (also the one I
grew up in). (Understand, as a side-note of sorts that I would've also
spent it with my niece, but she wasn't born for about another year.) Mom
& I came home, & I spent the next few days doing a lot of the
same stuff I do now: Watching TV &/or DVDs, reading my mail, &
"tweeting". (I do it a ton, but I hope that doing that helps me
discover/create a better word for it; "Tweeting" is what I hear from
those stupid birds on may way into the movie theater.)
Eventually,
it was about the 19th of December. I had a whole lot of open time,
which is something I continue to feel internally-conflicted about: On
the one hand, I don't have to see any of my doctors (or other assured
"authority figures" I'm outright expected to listen-to & trust). On
the other, I have literally nothing hinted/suggested-at for me to do. (I
have no guarantee on this, but I believe it's times like these my
friend Jon decides to make the video we watched in Theatrics of him
skydiving, or Vince McMahon to create the XFL.)
Like
many shows, "Burn Notice" was on a break seemingly for the holidays.
One thing I have come to recall & appreciate about that show is it
never has an ending with a bunch of slow climaxing right up until the
final minute; The "case of the week" often ends 5 minutes before the
individual episode, & the final piece will include some person or
thing (maybe both) that will be the tie-in to the next episode. Probably
in large part due to much of my family lumping the holidays together (I
only recently voiced my displeasure for the closeness of New Year's-
& Christmas-related things, but some relatives begin asking for
potential Christmas gifts if you visit them for Halloween), I laid on
the couch (where I have honestly spent much of the past month), &
started watching recent episodes "On-Demand", hoping I would be ready
when it returned.
Mom, meanwhile, was spending time with my sister
& my Aunt. I clearly & understandably have no clue what they
said or did together. Eventually, though, it was obvious Mom was
watching my nephews, as Jen & Aunt Shirley showed-up here. I also
have no recall on the conversation, but it ended with the two of them
deciding one would call 911. Eventually, I was in an ambulance, which
took me to Trumbull Memorial Hospital. (If I had the proverbial nickel
for each time I've talked/written about this place!! In
addition to being the birthplace of me, Jen, both nephews, & my
niece, I have spent enough time in there that I've discussed with many
staff the possibility/likelihood of them eventually naming a section
after me.)
While I've spent a ton of time
inside the hospital, it seems that I've spent a steadily-increasing
amount in/on what the staff refer to only as "3 South", which I will
tell you is flat-out a mental ward. [I chalk it up to a line I once
heard on a Jason Statham DVD. but can never recall precisely about there
being "a fine line between genius & crazy". For years, it has
bothered me that unlike (for instance) cancer, there is no way to be
sure if you have "crazy" or not... It appears to be a "judgment-call"
deal; I have differing thoughts from others on a ton of things. I have no
problem with their assuming themselves to be correct; What gets me is
their assumption that I am on the latter side of the line, whereas I
believe myself to be on the former.]
Anyhow,
it shouldn't surprise any readers I mention "3 South" because that is
where I ended-up in December of 2012. One day, I was sitting in their
main room for a meal, & was joined by my Mom. We were later joined
by Holly Herrholtz. (I admit to having no clue how to
pronounce that surname, but am copying it directly from the business
card she gave me that day.) She introduced herself as some sort of
representative for a place called "Renaissance North", one of the places
her business card calls, "Valley Renaissance Healthcare Center(s)". It
was explained to us that when I left "3 South", I would not
be going to the endocrinology department of the hospital, or directly
home; Instead, I would be sent to "Ren. North". (It surprises me this
very second to see that this particular building is not named anywhere
on the card; I rode in Ma's car past it less than a month ago, so I know
it to still exist.)
Despite having been a high-school alumnus of over a decade (& each parent for much
longer than that), none of us were given a choice in the matter (that I
recall; Mom is said to have made a few "calls" around this time that
surprise me to hear of them now). I was "shipped off" to this place,
never being told a date or occurrence that would bring my exit.
Some
things about the place were decent: I was given a room to myself, near a
shower that was almost-always available (as long as you knew the code
for the door, which reminded me of something I was used to on
"Leverage"). I was also given 3 meals a day, & often asked which of
two I preferred at each prior meal, These would not be mentioned, of
course, if the place was without its eccentricities: They had me spend a
lot of my stay in daily therapy, though I had not entered (doing so on
foot without help) with any injuries I was aware of. Also, looking in my
sock drawer now would reveal some still have my surname written on
them, as do a few of my shirts.
As it seems
to annually, New Year's Eve came. I remember still that I was in
Renaissance this particular day, as I can still picture myself in my
room, watching "Dolph Ziggler" (actually an alumnus of a semi-local
college) making New Year's Resolutions in the ring on "Monday Night
Raw". [Another good thing about this place: No "lights out" time or
anything like that; While I didn't have my CD player & was using
captions on several TV shows, I could watch all the Craig Ferguson (or
read any book) I wanted.]
After a few
weeks, the therapists (one male leader & one female leader among
them, which I still wonder about being motivated by Title IX or
something) told me I was done not withe the building, but with them. I
did eventually leave there (clearly; No Internet service I was aware
of), & came back to the apartment.
Now,
come on the "Way-Forward" machine with me to about December 10th of
2013. Knowing my birthday was approaching (& would be on a weekend),
I was looking forward to it & attempting to plan something.
(Spending it at my sister's again was all but cancelled, as my niece was
due earlier in the week.) I also enjoyed the fact I had no doctor's
appointment directly preceding my birthday. (I don't think we can hang
wall calendars here according to the apartment lease, so I simply keep
my appointment cards in order as best I can on a counter near the
stove.)
I had a few doctors' appointments
in the week following my birthday, though. Following each one, I would
plan the next visit to that doctor, obviously for 2014. Each time, I was
unsure if the day they said was currently doctor-free, but knew if it
turned-out I had one scheduled for that day already, I could call back
& reschedule the one who hadn't called "dibs"/"shotgun" on it in
time.
Unlike me, Mom had already bought a
calendar. (I tend to wait until around now, thinking the calendar stores
& the like will have them "marked-down" once a new year has begun.)
One day early this month, I attempted to check it to see what I had
coming when. (The guy I see at the Kidney Group, for instance, often
calls last-second to reschedule for several months
later, leaving the appointment card in very-much the wrong spot
sequentially.) It was then I read some note on this past weekend about
her having brought me home from "The R" (what we've both come to call
it) on the 18th.
Her note said nothing of
time, however, so I just assumed I'd make sure to be sure (redundant
much?!), & wait to celebrate this past Sunday. It got to the point I
E-mailed my sister, asking what she might like to do to join us in
marking it. (She remains unable to travel a while more, related to the
birth of my niece.) I also told her on the phone recently I was
approaching "my last weekday before Sunday". She said it was hers, too. I
asked her what she had coming Sunday. When she said, "Nothing," I
reminded her of my situation.
I've been saving this for the
big ending (which I now recall is in direct conflict with the thing I
said I enjoyed about "Burn Notice" episodes at the start of this, which
is kind-of "circularly-ironic", especially considering the part that
show (& the trait of it I referred to previously) plays in the story
told in this blog. But as I said, I've been in Trumbull a ton, &
spent less than a month at "The R". All that means is that, while I am
well-aware 2014 is over 3 weeks old (according to the chronograph on my
watch). I have only recently completed my first year of never being
admitted to either of those places or any others.
--Last
note; Promise... This is my first blog (I believe) of 2014, & also
the first being typed entirely on my own computer in my own room!!
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