I made it! I really freakin' made it! One whole entire year here at Elder House! I'm not dead!
I was so incredibly scared then.
But I took the plunge despite much uncertainty and fear.
My dear daughters pitched in with moral support and hours of heavy physical labor.
My precious down state friends came through with tools and trucks and the kindest words.
The weather even cooperated.
My heart was full.
This place has been a respite for me. It has allowed me the uninterrupted time to battle government red tape. It has afforded me much easier access to bathroom facilities. It has been so much quieter; and that is counting in Loud Mouth Lady, assorted yappy dogs, and psychotic birds.
Physical pain has become much, much worse. More intense and more pervasive. Here I can hobble from spot to spot and not worry that I am in someones way.
I can bury my face in pillows and sob to my heart's content without disturbing anyone else's sleep.
Sorry, Spencer.
And when I lose the bladder battle I can perform necessary ablutions without ridicule and criticism.
I hope Mommy Dearest has enjoyed having her house free of my intrusive presence. I wish the Flying Monkeys would, at long last, leave me alone. The only gift I could give these folks was my absence and that I have done.
It has come at a cost.
My struggles continue here.
I'm hanging on.
My fingers are crossed.
Plunge.....
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