Twas The Week Before Christmas

Alright, I realize it won’t officially be a week until tomorrow. But this will be my last post until after the New Year holiday. With all that is happening now and all that will be going on in the next several weeks, I have decided to take a little break and give you one from me. You might see me posting on Facebook now and again. Since this will be my final opportunity to do so through this BLOG, I wish you and yours a very Merry Christmas and a Happy and safe New Year, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or whatever it is you observe. We were brought together as a result of my adversity and your kind and caring heart. You have given me so much more than material things. You have given me a drive, determination, and a reason for hope. I Thank You all so very much. With each passing day, I realize this will be a much tougher and longer journey than I originally anticipated. In the beginning, I had an unrealistic idea that one morning I was just going to open my eyes, pop out of bed, and resume the life I lived before my stroke. Looking back on my life, I’ve really only had a few relatively small to midsize molehills with which to contend. We each have our mountains, this is mine. There was basic training, my heart attack, and the death of my Mom. All were traumatic for me, but I made it through. The first two were almost trivial when compared to the death of my Mom. I don’t suppose one ever truly gets over the loss of a parent. I’m of the age now when family members and friends are leaving this earth at a much more frequent rate. Had mine been what I would consider a normal stroke if you could ever really consider a stroke normal, I may have had some residual effects, but these past two years would certainly have been different. I probably would have never met or at least talked to most of you. I suppose that is my silver lining from all of this. I’ve met some amazing and wonderful people, either in person or through the magic of social media. I have also rekindled long-lost relationships with friends and loved ones and was surprised by ones I would have thought for sure would have been there but weren’t. I learned how hard it is to be inside your head 24/7. A memory can come from anywhere, a song, a football game, or even a TV commercial. There are so many times when I will just start sobbing for what seems like no reason. It happens with laughter too, and often at inappropriate times. Like most of my other bodily functions, I have no control. But here I am getting off-topic as I am apt to do. What I set out to do was to celebrate you and all that you have done for me. Every member of my Bedhead Bob News Daily site on Facebook is a special gift to me. My family has a tradition of sending thank you notes to everyone we get a gift from. I have decided that is what I will do: send thank you notes to each of you. This may seem a bit redundant to some since that is what I am doing with this post and have already done on Facebook, however, only a handful of people read my posts. I want everyone to receive my thanks. I know it is not a lot but I thought you should know how special you are to me. Again, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. May you get everything you want this year and more!

Follow Me On

With a Grateful Heart

I know that I often dote on my wife and daughter. It is not as though it isn’t well deserved. More and more people know the stress and work that comes with being a caregiver, but few understand the commitment and sacrifice involved in what it takes to do it 24/7. My wife and daughter have been maintaining this vigil over me for two years now. (Actually, the two-year mark won’t occur for six days, December 17.) Holidays are especially hard because they are unable to attend family gatherings because of me. Except for being quadriplegic and mute, they too are Locked in. Jonell keeps up with her Sisters, Father, and friends by phone and on Facebook when she can. Lydia gets to play with JeraLyn and Jase, a friend named Kennidy, as well as some others from time to time. She will occasionally venture out with one of her two brothers for a few hours. Their personal sacrifice is more than anyone should have to bear. Jonell has a life, a family, and before my stroke, I’m sure she had plans of her own and how she was going to live her life. Lydia, just 12 when my stroke happened, was forced to grow up much faster than other girls her age. Sometimes I just start weeping when I think of the loss of innocence. Cold weather is hard too as Jonell only gets a couple of hours of sleep at a stretch. She has to constantly feed our wood stove to maintain a bearable temperature in the house. Wood heat is our only means to stay warm. Over the years we have gotten quite good at knowing how much wood to use and how often to feed the stove to keep the house comfortable. It has really become an art form of sorts. Just another of the tasks she has had to take on. I want to give them both so much, but they ask for so little. I suggested once that maybe I should go into a home. Jonell pointed out that my disability would be taken away and used for my care. Which would mean she would have to find a job and send Lydia to a public school. If she was required to work nights, arrangements would have to be made to care for Lydia. None of us would see each other very much. Even if disability isn’t much, it’s better than the alternative. I figured out she only makes about $5 an hour based on an 8-hour day. But she works much more than an 8-hour day. That doesn’t even factor in for Lydia. I wouldn’t even know how to figure something like that out. Let’s just agree there aren’t people beating down our door to take their place. For now, and for as long as it is practical and they will tolerate me, things will remain as they are. Jonell and I have talked about knowing there will come a day when she will not physically be able to care for me any longer. The day is fast approaching as well when Lydia may want to leave the nest to explore for herself what’s out there. She is an extraordinary young lady and the world will be her oyster. When and if she decides to go, it will be with my blessing. I have learned firsthand what all these two women do out of love and I am so grateful and blessed that God placed them in my life. Merry Christmas my sweet angels!

Odorific

This is the time of year when I usually feel one of two ways, either anticipation of gifts I may receive and people I will once again see.  Or melancholy and sad for those times I can’t recapture and friends and loved ones gone from my life. I also think much about a personal loss of mine. Sight, Sound, Smell, Taste, and Touch are considered the 5 senses of the human body. I would argue that if you were forced to choose which one you could live without if forced to choose one in some sadistic game, you’d probably choose taste or smell. Some might pick touch. But I doubt there would be any takers of sight or sound. That was actually a question posed to me while I was still in high school. Little did I know that a few short years later, life would make my choice. I never figured out a cause, I don’t even recall if it was sudden or something that occurred over time, but somewhere in my twenties, I lost my sense of smell. I don’t mean to say I don’t smell. Some would tell you that there are times I am downright ripe. I’m saying rather that my olfactory ability is gone. In other words, I can’t smell. The loss of my sense of smell actually won me the job of official diaper changer for my two Sons, then later for my Daughter. I know right? What contest in hell was I entered in? And if that was first prize I don’t even want to think about what the losers got! True story though, on rare occasions, I would briefly regain the ability to smell something. Guess when that was? Yep, right in the middle of a diaper change. Imagine not being able to smell anything for years, and then the business end of a diaper hits you in the face. The reason this is the time of year I think about my lost sense of smell the most is because of all the wonderful smells I now miss. The turkey, ham, stuffing, cookies, and many others are now only memories. How I loved the way a freshly cut Christmas tree would engulf the house with its smell. People used to tell me how lucky I was to not have to smell this or that, but at times it can be downright dangerous. On more than one occasion I was nearly overcome by noxious fumes. As you may know, your sense of smell is closely tied to your sense of taste. I can taste sweet salty, sour, and the basics, but I am unable to tell the taste of cherry from that of strawberry, or pork from chicken for example. Much of the enjoyment from eating is gone. This post comes to you as the holiday season is in full swing. Thanksgiving is just a memory and most are out buying gifts. I would like to thank all those who took the time to make my day brighter by posting on Facebook or texting me directly with your birthday wishes. It really meant a lot to me for many reasons. I caution you to exercise restraint with your holiday purchases this year. Don’t wind up with too much credit card debt come January.