A Different Approach

I am thinking of different topics to address, as opposed to poor, pitiful me, and since this is a topic I am currently a statistic of, why not?

Homelessness nationwide is an issue, but the West Coast has been particularly hard hit. An estimated 500,000, or 1/2 Million, individuals nationwide are in uninhabitable housing, the pleasantly cleansed word for delicate souls. Or is it non-racist? Politically correct? Respectful? Fuck No! I am in uninhabitable housing!  I am homeless. And whatever non-offensive phrasing you, Mr. Government Amoeba Paperpusher/Dr. Sleepy Pants HUD Secretary, use it will be no different. Unless I am like too many, sleeping in a tent in a creek bed, wrapped up in a sleeping bag under a tree or wrapped in a cardboard box, or in a dumpster, I am still homeless in my car. A car is uninhabitable housing!

Your survey is wasted tax dollars as it is highly inaccurate, as usual. How do I know? I was asked to be involved in the Homeless Count this year and the parameters are a joke.

A few weeks before the “Night” they decide to do the count (a night? Really!?), a group of volunteers per a district get together to discuss “What to look for”. It was laughable, insulting and disgraceful. I will give you an idea what was suggested to look for:

  • People with shopping carts and too many shopping bags
  • Disheveled people, visibly unbathed, carrying odd things
  • Mismatched or ill-fitting clothing
  • Puddles next to parked cars, i.e. human waste (Loved that one. NOT!)
  • Large amount of personal litter, next to a car

Let me say, the majority of the questions were answered by homeowners that fall into the category of “Not-in-My-Backyard”. Nimby’s. The Homeless know them too well. Sadly, many Homeless are also drug addicts, alcoholics, mentally ill, off-their-meds, DGAF, etc. Thieves have a home, or a hole, or a safe place to hide. Homeless don’t. Do some break into homes? Yes. But, the chronically homeless still have enough self respect to respect other people’s property, unless they are family. That’s a completely different dynamic that I won’t address, because I have no personal knowledge with a normal family. Dysfunctional, you betcha!

The majority of homeless people are very self-conscious about their appearance. Bathing regularly is a must. Keeping properly groomed is a must, especially men! There are those who are so physiologically gone, that grooming isn’t something they are aware of. And there are those that are so far gone in their addiction, or allusion, that it doesn’t matter. They are the ones that in the “community”  *we* stay away from.

I will give you an example. I’ll call him Ned. I have no  personal association with a Ned, other than Ned Flanders, so I can’t offend anyone.

Ned is a couple of years younger than me. Ned is homeless, has a grown daughter and living parents. Ned smokes pot and does meth and God knows what all. He is also a part-time hoarder. He hoards stuff until it disappears, or is stolen, or he believes it is stolen, or he gives it away. He desperately wants a woman in his life. I know this first hand, and had to deal with some shit he said about Will. Will has known him longer, better than 2 years? I think. Ned has had medical issues, had a heart attack, severe water retention issues, edema. He’s kinda fucked up y’all. Now, he had built a fire at his campsite with treated pallet boards and it impacted his eyes. He told me yesterday that he needs an optical surgery and they may have to take his eyes. He could see me, and this has been an issue for a couple of months. I don’t doubt Ned has a severe issue, but being homeless and needing medical care is a huge one! And he will routinely make a mountain out of molehill. Many know his parents and have met them or his sister, so the homeless grapevine is healthy and thriving and keep the fables at bay. I do care for Ned, but my partial brain can’t handle his little boy crying wolf routine. Others, including Will and I, have real health issues that will eventually kill us, not self-inflicted bull-pucky exaggerations. Being Stoned or High is self-inflicted and I just don’t care. Haven’t since I was 17 and some things just don’t change.  You’re an addict and want to live that life? Have at! Just don’t think I want a special invitation to join you.

Just so you are aware, most homeless don’t defecate next to their vehicle.  Some might, if they can’t find a bush and I know a few whacks that defecate in the public square intentionally, but they have problems that were dealt with at those “Hospitals” back in the day. The practice of dogs not shitting where they sleep is also  human trait. We use public restrooms at Safeway, Starbucks, Panama Bay, Ross, TJ Maxx, Carl’s Jr., McDonald’s. We like to wipe our bottoms and wash our hands, thank you! And we do not leave it a mess. If you think we loose all sense of human decency, you are wrong. My God, Will is so fastidious he drives me nuts! He has to shave regularly and complains when he sees himself as unkempt! Clean clothes without stains are a big deal. And a pleasant color palette.   He is Gay after all. Some behaviors will not change. That’s why he makes me chuckle. I love him to death, even when he is Gayer than Christmas Bloomies.

I guess, I could say it simply, perception and reality don’t talk, meet, or have anything to do with each other. And a few small-minded people can dream up whatever they wish, but it won’t make it so.

 

 

https://www.insider.com/map-how-many-homeless-americans-there-are-in-each-state-2019-11

Happy Holidays for Some

It is Black Friday and absolutely nuts here. There are Prime Outlets within 5 miles of my current location, and people are meeting up at Starbucks before they head out. Geez. Spending money is a group activity? Who knew! SMH

We are not spending money, because we have none until Social Security comes through or Will’s General Assistance. No Christmas Tree, little Christmas Cheer. Freezing to death, but my $10 sleeping bag has been handy as all out. It was 34F this morning with ice on the car. Reminiscent of my trips to Idaho during Thanksgiving. I miss those trips and the people I shared my holiday with. And when my 120 lbs of fur babies were still alive.

The shopping gluttony is  mind-boggling.  I stopped trying to understand it years ago, because I was guilty of it too when Dad was still alive. Put yourself into debt until March or April with the plastic was typical. I stopped when he died. It’ll be 20 years soon. Christmas is difficult for me as he was sick and I didn’t do anything. Gunn was in control by then and took “care” of him. That haunts me. How she complained that she had no one to take care of her as she had done to him. She gets me fired from my job, I physically move to her house to “take care of her” and she can’t stop bitching how much I suck at it and I’m inconveniencing her because I have the audacity to live in her house. Why can’t I move in next door? Buy a house and work close by? BECAUSE YOU CALL ME EVERY 10 MINUTES WHEN I AM NOT IN YOUR VISUAL RANGE!! Ungrateful bitch.

So much for honoring my adopted parents. I promised Dad I would take care of her. Pity there wasn’t a stipulation on her trying to kill us, or succeeding at it. It just took years, and her throwing out my meds, for me to accept what she had done to you Papa. I just couldn’t accept that her malignant narcissism and her belief in her medical knowledge would go so far as to put our lives in danger.

I will reconstruct a dialog that happened when I was 12:

Gunn: She doesn’t need glasses. No one in my family needs them. She eats carrots.

Optometrist: Carrots won’t improve her vision. She has steep corneas and is very near-sighted.

Gunn: She spends too much time reading and doing needlework. She is ruining her eyes! 

Optometrist: She is a student and reading is very good at here age. She will do good in school!

Gunn: She is not getting glasses! You are wrong!

We exit (angrily stomp) out to the car and I tell Dad.

Me: Dad! Mom won’t let me get glasses!

Dad: What? The doctor said your vision is bad and your legally blind! Gunn! What are you up to?

Gunn: She doesn’t need glasses. No one in my family wears them! She needs to stop reading so much and do all the those crafts! Her eyes would be fine. And I feed her carrots every day!

Dad: I’ll take her to get what she needs! And you wear glasses but you don’t want too because you’re so vane! You’re not going to put your issues on our daughter!

And Dad and I went back in and I picked out a pair of glasses I could live with. Gunn would harangue me about the reading and knitting and needlework – unless it was something I was making for them – for the rest of my life, but my contact lenses helped. She’d start in on me when I was wearing my glasses. And she stabbed me with my embroidery scissors when her shows weren’t on TV, but that’s a tale for another time. h

A day in the life with Gunn. I thank the Lord every day that she is gone from my life. I return her ashes to her family and my last connection with her is gone. One more thing  on my list when I have money again. Dad’s ashes have to go home to. To be with his parents and siblings in his home town. The honor she refused him because she hated his family so much. I didn’t know how much until he died and realized how much of his “history” she had thrown out. At least I had taken his ships and maritime logs years before. And his pictures. If I hadn’t taken those decades before, Gunn would have tossed them.  The medals and awards she kept. She could use them to promote their wonderful marriage. The awards and medals preceded you, hag. You had no part in Dad’s service, but you took all that you could get, including his military pension.

As a reminder for the holidays, https://www.gofundme.com/f/life4wng20?teamInvite=zwFy5EWAGSludrnkCZ9nBW6TpHJfA8I5YvaDJ67Bhi8fNwXnHH6M2OYJcXZSgemz

Please consider our plight. God Bless you.

 

 

A Little of This….

and a little of that. Today’s mood. Mixed but hopeful.

I made a foolish promise on my Facebook page that I would add something every day.

HA!

I can barely manage feeding myself everyday. And my primary issue is the big and lovable bear who is officially my chauffeur. He came up with it, not me. He’s driving Miss Gracie and it gives him a chuckle. It makes him happy, but I have no control over my car. All or nothing seems to be the name of the game.

I really don’t mind. I went 5 years with being the primary driver. It being someone else’s responsibility eases my anxiety level. Besides, he’s not drinking anymore. For the most part. He needs AA and not just me or the doctors. He needs someone ELSE to talk to. His body, organs, have been punished too much, especially his kidneys and liver and pancreas. His diabetes has rocketed upwards and the food we eat through the Open Heart (Tri-Valley Soup Kitchen) isn’t diabetes friendly, or any place else serving food.

This morning, at Vineyard, they had croissants with egg and cheese, spaghetti and another pasta dish that supposedly had meat. I got no meat, the croissant was tasty and the pasta was gross. My “palate” wants low carb food for my health, but it receives little of that. Plenty of sugars though. So much Goddamn sugar/carbs.

This is a very difficult life to live, after residing in a house, cooking your own nutritious meals, having a bathroom available when nature calls. This type of life is dehumanizing.

I need to speak with my friend Sue and ask her if I can share her story. She is a beautiful woman and has been through so much  heartache and physical pain all while being homeless. It’s tragic and disgusting in this nation where we find endless money to make sure we can kill the World 10 times over, there are more guns than people in the US (and too many individuals die at the hands of Domestic Terrorists – not foreign terrorists Trumplandians), Russia and North Korea ARE security risks for this Country – NOT UKRAINE (stop listening to that Traitor and his sycophants including  Moscow Mitch or Dingbat David). The news out of Washington is frustrating the little I can gather from my phone and podcasts.  Why I miss TV and Will doesn’t. I watch “boring” stuff, otherwise none as educational and topical. But, it’s not the Cardashian’s! To bad, gay-boy! Hehe.

Have to close down. Have an appointment with my therapist Pam.

The Realities of Homelessness

The daily mental battle

Sleeping on a flat surface and stretched out.

Taking a shower without someone yelling “HURRY UP!!!” Just being able to take one every 3 or 4 days, not every 7+ days. The record is 15, I think. Warm water and soap to remove the stench and dirt and letting you feel “Normal”. Washing your hair!!! When it’s been up in a ponytail for better than a week and when you take out the rubber band – IT DOES NOT MOVE. Not a single hair. It is that oily! And know I am susceptible to yeast infections in my fat fold, aka lap fat. Oh, for a flat tummy! Oh, to be 60 lbs lighter! Oh, to not have the stroke issues! Oh, all the shit which I really want to go away!! The yeast infections are due to the “plastic” in the diapers and heat and sweat trapped in unbreathable and confined space. I was able to wear cotton undies for a few days with leakage pads. The infection cleared up. Hell, the last time when it was really bad (August), Dr. C. had to lance and drain a boil. Eeeeww! Yuck! I had to keep draining until the cream dried it out! You never want to experience that, especially so close to your private parts,

Getting up at 3am and being able to go to a bathroom and sit on a toilet without having to drive to a Safeway and hopefully not commit to the “walk of shame” or drop a load in my diaper. I now carry adult diapers. I can’t justify any vanity on my part. Oh, Gunn would be scandalized! “But, Venke! Vhat will people tink of you! How embarassing!” Shut up, bitch. I wouldn’t be here if not for you. Her voice comes back too often. It is what it is and I’ll just have to take 600 mg a day of Neurotin to insure the nerves down south are in communication with Central Command. And that will be undergoing reconstruction for years. I have a bathroom purse. It’s nice and made from “vegan” leather. OK. There is some vanity and not wanting to advertise “homeless and poor and peeing on myself”.

Typing and “storytelling” is part of my therapy. Who’da thunk that!

They’re playing Christmas Music at Starbucks. Eek. From 40’s Big Band to Rap. *Shudder*

Being able to go to the kitchen that has a refrigerator, a stove and cook top, and maybe a microwave (let’s not forget cutlery and eating vessels and tumblers), to prepare a warm meal or have a piece of toast when under the weather or just a glass of milk. Heat a bowl of chicken noodle soup! Or a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Make a box of Kraft Mac and Cheese. A grilled cheese sandwich on sliced sourdough with Tomato Bisque from Trader Joe’s. A breaded and thick cut pork chop with baked apples. A chicken breast with sauted asparagus. A homemade Cobb Salad or Chopped Broccoli from Costco, A PB&J with something other than Concord Grape Jelly and on 10-grain Wheat, not that cheap wheat bread that has zero nutrition and is worse for you then Wonder Bread. Fresh Wonder Bread……yummmmm. Addicted to that as a child. Gunn did me no favors. She sure didn’t teach me nutrition, encourage exercise or chase me out the door to play with neighbor kids. Brownie’s offered too many camping trips with a parent participating. Good God NO! “Ve don’t do dat in Norway!” No. families go hiking and fishing and sleep in…..sleeping bags? That’s the rumor.

I’ll be back soon. I’m off to Speech and Cognitive Therapy!

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A Quick Post

Will is at Storage with Andy – getting my diapers since I used the last one this morning. I’m at Starbucks just having updated my GoFundMe campaign.  And just trying to provide some current context, which I will do here as well.

  1. Will is SOBER!
  2. His day of sobriety is October 12, 2019. He had his last drink (fucking bottle, or Handle, or 1.5L of vodka every 36 hours) on 10/11/19.
  3. He is Clear and Vibrant and hooked on Starbucks Nitro which is making him a very talkative chipmunk!
  4. His memory is so much better and he is the one DRIVING! I let him take over the wheel and I am enjoying being the passenger once more. It’s been since 2012 except the handful of times a was I with someone. Literally – no one since 2016 and that was Amanda. Less than a dozen times since then. Maybe half a dozen. He’s my driver! Hehe He even jokes he’s driving Miss Gracie. Andy is enjoying the way it used to be. Daddy is supposed to be in the drivers seat. Rawroo!
  5. I have started writing my “book”. I had too. There is so much pent up inside me with no where to go. So much anger – and hatred. Dad didn’t have to die when he did and I didn’t have to have my stroke when I did if it hadn’t been for HER. I will NEVER refer to her as Mom ever again. Her name was Gunvor. I will use that or the nickname Gunn. I apologize to any women who have that name. They should never be confused with the Gunvor who was in my life.
  6. I am looking actively for an attorney to handle my medical malpractice/malfeasance case. It is complicated and messy, not simple and direct. I have spoken to a few attorneys and I will speak to more. I will not give up.
  7. We have figured out how to handle Will’s brother. That’s all I am going to say.
  8. We know what we will do when all this is over and lawsuits have been settled and life has settled into a normal mode with a roof over our heads and a refrigerator and a bathroom. We so need a place to live, but Abode isn’t going to do anything for us. We missed out on Section 8 housing last week. Too many applicants and the website became unavailable after 12 noon. They opened online only at 11:00. Heard nothing from Abode. They need one more thing – a letter on agency letterhead stating a person from that agency has known we have been homeless for part of the year. Multiple letters from multiple people to cover each month for the last year. This was rolled out by Alameda County on October 1st! We have everything else they wanted to complete the application for the apartment in Oakland, then this came up. If we can come up with this for each of us and have it for them, they will need updates or something else before we fill out the application. It’s bullshit is what it is. No wonder people are homeless and living out of their cars for 7 or 9 or 13 years!
  9. We quit smoking. No more Camel Crush.We vape. I quit smoking completely and enjoy vaping, which I rarely do if I am not driving. Will vapes and occasionally has a cigarillo. My blood pressure is normal and Doctor is happy, though worries about the vape because the “News” says they are unsafe. Yeah, ok, if you buy off the black market, from a guy who makes them in his garage,etc. We don’t. You don’t want kids smoking, let’em get carded! They did when I was 18 and I was told, “NO! Get out of here!” They need to be told No. They aren’t denied often enough as it is without them having a temper tantrum. “Wha! I am old enough! You’re discriminating against me. It’s ageism!!!” Bullshit, little one. We had to suffer at your age. It’s your right of passage. Now, shut up. You’re bothering me. And get off my lawn while you’re at it. (Metaphorically)
  10. I’m a little behind on the news….has Trump been impeached yet? Has the NYSD gotten his Tax Returns? Has SCOTUS flipped on their backs and placated the Big Horny Dog? Curious. Asking for a friend.

That’s it. Will is back with dinner from Asbury Church. Chicken Teriyaki and Rice. Gee. More carbs. SMDH

Lawyer Speak – Blahblahblah

I started calling attorney’s today about suing that place I used to live and their idiot doctors:

  1. I was told I had a stroke 11/29/2016
  2. The fact I wasn’t told “what kind” is neglible. I had a stroke. Period. End of story.
  3. The fact I wasn’t treated for the type of stroke I had doesn’t matter. They told me. I was informed.
    1. The fact I didn’t see a neurologist for 19 months doesn’t weigh in. I wasn’t being treated for TIA’s or the impact of the neurological devastation which proabably worsened after the stroke.

My current speech therapist, who knows my diagnosis, keyed me into apps and programs that can help with my deficits. One is TalkPath Therapy. It is awesome and can target my issues – and it costs $250 per year, or $25 per month. Ain’t gonna happen.

There are others, such as the Khan Academy, which are free and useful to increase my base of knowledge, but not as targeted as TalkPath. Grrrr.

CCHP should pay for that since they totally missed it, ignored it, intentionally kept it from me. See a physciatrist for your depression/eating disorder/Munchausen Sydrome they said. Otherwise, we are too busy with “real” patients that need our help they said.

I need a malpractice attorney who gets it that stroke diagnosis is valid and very important as it directs your medical care!

Did you know there are three different types of stroke?

  1. Ischemic Stroke
    1. Thrombotic stroke
    2. Embolic Stroke
  2. Hemorrhagic Stokes
    1. Intracerebral hemorrhage
    2. Subarachnoid hemorrhage
  3. Transient Ischemic Attack (TIA)

Lots of information, but if you’re not over 55, don’t worry. It won’t effect you.

I had my stroke at 50. 50 and 5 months. I was considered young by the Neurologists at UCSF.

Now I have to convince an attorney that this is malpractice. And I don’t speak succintly anymore. And people are in a hurry and don’t listen. In other words, I am screwed.