Problems

Hi everyone, I've been in and out of the hospital recently and can't really think about writing about past experience's right now, though I do want to continue with my story. Hopefully I will be able to devote more time soon. Rick

A bad year.

Treatment for liver disease is unsuccessful. They will try again in a year. It’s now 2002 and the Giants almost win the World Series. This would have been a good thing in an otherwise depressing year. I’m still very affected in a negative manner by my marriage falling apart, not to mention the anger associated with how the end of the relationship came about. I also lost my teeth due to the radiation treatments going through my jaw, making it necessary to remove my teeth. More fun and games, not to mention the inconvenience that comes with, learning how to use dentures, and the discomfort that comes with learning to depend on fake teeth to eat. I’m not having much fun at this time and I’m hoping for an upswing to my living situation. I changed my internet web site from selling Pokemon cards to baseball cards. This is profitable at the start, but soon the market is flooded with all the releases by the card companies competing with each other over specialty cards.

Attempting to get a message of hope to someone who cares.

Now I’m being treated for liver decease, which gives me a possibility of getting rid of this virus that has affected my liver. There are some extreme cases of Hep C that have infected another person through contact, but unless it is direct, blood-to-blood contact it is almost impossible to transfer to another person. In all honesty, it is not impossible, but so rare, because the circumstances have to be unique for that to happen. A lot of people think Hep C is like Aids, but it is not and not even in the same sphere. I’ve said my piece, but most people won’t believe me, which is to bad. This problem has caused me predictably, problems for some time, but I’m still hopeful of meeting a women who is not afraid of this problem I have and I still think I can have a rewarding life, I’m hopeful.

A visit to a hospital, not a lot of fun

Hi there, I'm back after a stay in a hospital because of a lower bowl problem. The details are unnecessary due to the overall grossness of the problem and the treatment for the cure. You really don't want to know the details. I've been trying to regain a mind set to continue with this narrative and it's taken a few days to accomplish that. This recurring problem has everything to do with my original injuries and the treatments I received for the cancer I survived. I have a compromised immune system, with low white and red blood cell counts. Because of those treatments, I managed to overcome Cancer. Those treatments were in the form of radiation to my throat to get at a growth on my tonsil. Because of these treatments, my bone marrow was affected, leading to low cell productivity. Just another twist in my quest to recover and survive. I'm OK for now, but I never know when I may experience another obstacle in my road to a good life.

A bad time

In 2001, I was informed that I have Hepatitis C. I really don’t know what to expect anymore. My doctors told it is possible that I could have contracted this liver disease while in the Navy, but no one can be sure, when I contracted this virus. There are a few treatment programs for this virus and I start on one. This treatment is not successful. This medicine affects the immune system by super charging it to combat the virus, but the overall effect of the treatment lowers you white and red blood cell counts, because our immune systems are not accustomed to working in this boosted state. As my life becomes more and more depressing during this time, I am beginning to lose some hope that I can have any enjoyment living anymore. Do not take that statement the wrong way, as I still around to write about all this and intend to continue. It was a low part of my recovery and I wonder how many others would have felt any different then I during this down period.

Cancer treatment

Surviving cancer, another monumental accomplishment in my life, but without the help of my doctors, what would it mean? Not much, but I have learned to depend on professionals to keep me alive. I am wondering what else I have to go through to attain a semblance of normalcy in my life. The radiation treatments started out fine with no pain and I was thinking this is easy. My doctor guaranteed she would rid me of the cancer and I wanted very much to believe her diagnosis. She was right and I have been cancer free to this day. After two weeks of treatment, my throat started to hurt and continued to get worse, till the point where I could no longer swallow without pain. At this point, I could only drink milkshakes for sustenance. So after weeks of having a weak immune system due to the radiation and my high sugar diet, I developed diabetes. I am asking myself, what could be next? Well there were worse things to be discovered down the road, but at least this was type two diabetes and was easily treated with medication. Enough for today.

Surviving Cancer

Early in 2001, I my dentist spotted a growth on my tonsil he was concerned about, which led me to a ear, nose and throat specialist at the VA. I had surgery to remove the growth and waited apprehensively for two weeks waiting for the results. It was cancer. I underwent five weeks of radiation designed to kill the cancer in my throat, which was successful. I lost a saliva gland, making swallowing difficult, but the other alternative was not so great. My beard also grows kind of funny now, with one side of my face thicker then the other. Well, I survived another life-threading situation, this time evolving the big “C” and I am asking myself what next. There will be another conditio9n to come. After my treatment for the cancer was successful I changed direction on the internet to selling baseball cards. Base ball has always been a passion of mine and I thought it would be fun to sell baseball cards instead of Pokemon. The baseball card business was much more difficult then selling Pokemon. A lot more competition existed in the selling of baseball cards. I was not as successful with baseball as I was with Pokemon. I still enjoyed myself and I needed a distraction from my ongoing medical problems, which were not improving. I continued to keep a positive attitude about my setbacks. The card selling and especially the opening of card packs, which was maybe more fun then I remembered as a kid. There is a special thrill about finding a great card in a pack. I remember pulling a one out of only a hundred signed cards by Barry Bonds, which was a great thrill. I still have this card.

My quest for happiness

I am trying to meet a special lady who might enjoy my company. I am running this post on Craig’s list. If there is any interest, email cozcom@sbcglobal.net. Something a bit different today. Read on.
Do you feel bad about a loss to cancer, physical injury or disfigurement and think love or companionship is over for you? I do not believe it should to be that way, because of an unfortunate accident that has happened to you. I am a man who was injured in a fire twenty years ago. My body, except my face, is scared from third degree burns. I have experienced rejection from what I consider small minds who have been put off by my scars from my injuries. I also have related my experiences during my recovery and the pitfalls that can occur when trying to get relief from chronic pain. I have had very limited understanding about what I did to try and overcome constant pain, in other words, not much understanding. If I sound upset it is because despite my reaching out, I have been rejected by some who think I retain bad habits, which I do not. It was hard living with my injuries and the resulting pain, but I found ways to handle these problems. I hope to meet an intelligent and attractive women who believes in taking care of herself and to look the best she can. It is important to me that despite what may have happened to you in your life, you still have a sense of humor. I do, and spending time with me will be enjoyable for you. I am a fun guy who can make you laugh. You may feel insecurity because of your own personal loss. This could be from any terrible accident you have been in. What I am saying, is if you have negative thoughts about yourself or appearance because of an unfortunate experience in your life, do not! If you think no one could be interested in you, then you may enjoy talking with me. I hope you will. I am sexually active, and enjoy making love very much. I’m including a picture and will respond to you if you send me a picture. Fair is fair. By including my picture and you choose to respond, I have to think you are attracted to me and I hope for the opportunity to feel the same way. I’m doing good financially and would enjoy a cruise or a trip somewhere with the right women. I am confident of meeting a women who can appreciate me and my quest for an enjoyable life and will respond to me. Please do not think your life is finished because of a physical change, because I believe that is not true. I'm 6'6" 220lbs and try very hard to keep my myself looking as good as I can and hope for a women who feels the same about herself. I love baseball and cooking among many things. I hope to hear from a brave woman who desires a chance for happiness. I also really wonder how much compssaion exsist now. Rick, Something different today.

Selling Pokemon on the internet

I am back in the Bay Area and keeping busy by selling Pokemon cards on line. This is fun. I am trying to work through personal events in my life. I am not very happy with the aftermath from my failed marriage, but I am not the first to go through this. I concentrated on my online business for the year and was enjoying myself. I had some nice interactions with the mothers of the children who wanted the Pokemon cards, cutting a good deal when I could. I heard numerous stories about desperation and a lack of funds to pay for the cards that they bid on and won. Some were just “stories” and scams. I was not especially hurting for money at the time so played along and gave breaks depending on the originality of the request. I was enjoying myself. Here I am living in an old shoe store in a less then delightful neighborhood in Oakland, constantly wondering if the gunshots I hear will sometime be directed my way. What the hell, there are many ways life can be challenging and entertaining. I am joking here, you know. I had a mail slot, which opened on the street side of my building that had a lid, that was constantly flipped up and down to the delight of the kids in the area. They would delight in opening it up and yelling terms of endearment my way. So I did, out of frustration, create a sign that could be read when looking in the mailbox with my own terms of endearment. This was stupid on my part, but anything for entertainment during these times. 2001 was approaching and I was about to find out I had Cancer.

Clearing up any misunderstandings

It has been brought to my attention through my attempts to meet a women using Craig’s list, that I come across as a drunk, because of all my trips to programs and the continual bouts I had with alcohol. I’m writing this blog with an ending in mind, which will end with my current activities. I am chronicling my life since my injuries and there are some unfortunate decisions I made, but I have had to go through, to end up where I am now. I wanted a natural progression to current time, but it is not working out that way. I do not use alcohol to kill pain and have not for a number of years. Thanks to the doctor I see, who prescribed the medication I needed for so many years to help with the nerve damage pain I feel, I no longer have a need to use any other methods to help control my chronic pain. I am sorry for the judgmental people who cannot see the big picture and I take some of that blame for the way I have presented myself. I only want to present the entire process I have been through trying to live a normal life, by the way, which is impossible at times. I have written a disclaimer, which I plan to attach ever now and then, so maybe people will not be so judgmental. It follows.
I need to say despite all these negative occurrences with attempting to control pain, I finally succeeded many years ago getting it all under control. I do not drink like I once did and my medications have worked well for me for ten years now. Use the Google ads about recovery centers if they appeal to you, but they are not the links I wanted for my blog. I wanted burn survivor groups, clubs etc. I am trying to get them changed, but I am not having a lot of luck yet. Enjoy! That is what is important.

An unfortunate relationship for me.

The best thing that happened towards the end of the year, was meeting my VA doctor. I had a bad knee from running track in high school and it was determined an operation would help me. This opened up the avenue to pain medication. I had long talks with my doctor, where he agreed pain medication would help me if I could take it without abusing it. Abusing narcotics is so easy to do. Taking the medicationss and learning not to abuse them took about eighteen months. During this process, there were many changes. I moved, which was a mistake to the San Diego area. My wife wanted to live close to an aunt of hers. We were not getting along very well at this time. It wasn't a one-way street. I was having a hard time adjusting to my medication and she had her own medical problems. Just like fifty percent of marriages in this country, this one was showing all the signs of not working out. We did divorce and I came back to Alameda via a stop in Oakland for a while. I need to say despite all these negative occurrences with attempting to control pain, I finally succeeded many years ago getting it all under control. I do not drink like I once did and my medications have worked well for me for seven years now.

Back to Alameda

After my trip to Mexico and the negative results, I decided to come back to Alameda. Got a room intending to detox from my latest destructive run. My friend was not into this change and became bored. Then she met another guy staying at the motel and she was gone. I was happy about this development, realizing this was not going to work out. Overall, it was doomed from the start. I started going to AA meetings, attempting to deal with the pain without anything to help with it. I did OK for sometime, renting an apartment, getting settled in and not drinking. A friend I met in AA helped me retrieve my stuff from Oregon. We drove up there and while we were there, I looked up my friends from my last stay in Roseville. One of them who my friend was attracted to was my future wife, Anita. After returning to California, I started drinking again, as pain and loneliness overcame me again. I have never done well living alone, but being insecure about how others might regard my injuries and a shyness condition I’ve never been able to overcome led me to bad habits again. Reflecting on all the times I have used drugs or booze to medicate my feelings and pain, I am surprised I am still alive and healthy. My life had evolved into going to one recovery program after another. My thoughts were continuously depressed and hopeless. I was not breaking out from the depression. I tried a chronic pain clinic in Marin to try again to get help. The doctors agreed that narcotics would be the only thing that could help me, but their program was not about prescribing pain medications. So I was out and about, again. There was one nice (I thought at the time) development while I was in the pain clinic. I began corresponding with my future wife and was hopeful this would turn out to be a good thing. I was so wrong, but it took a while to find out. I need to say, despite all these negative occurrences with attempting to control pain, I finally succeeded many years ago getting it all under control. I don't drink like I used to and my medications have worked well for me for seven years now.

A trip to Mexico.

I ended up moving back into my original house I had started, with the owner wanting me to leave, and my refusal to that, leading to a confrontation. I eventually went back to the VA and another program. Here I was in another 30-day program. I lost track of how many programs I have been in at this point. This turned out to be another waste of time, because when I left the program after thirty days I went to a bar and was drinking again. The pain problem was overwhelming me. I ran an advertisement looking for a women who wanted to go to Europe with me, because my thinking was I could get pain relief over there. I found a young girl who wanted to make the trip, but she could not get a passport, because of some problem with the government at the time, so we went to Mexico. Just another disaster for me. I ended up in a motel room down there, just drinking until my Aunt who was visiting a friend came by and returned me to the US and the VA hospital near San Diego. I was there for a few hours while they detoxed me and then decided to come home to Alameda. I need to say despite all these negative occurrences with attempting to control pain, I finally succeeded many years ago getting it all under control. I do not drink like I once did and my medications have worked well for me for seven years now.

Trying to make it work.

I really wanted to do something positive for myself and help others. I opened a recovery house that I rented, while this house was being remodeled. This was a good deal, because the owner who was doing the remodel was open to designing the house and it's rooms so I could have as many rooms as possible. This worked out well for a while. I had an apartment in the back of the house where two apartments were available and I rented one to have some private space. This house worked out well and then I was given the opportunity to rent a very old Victorian house that was 100 years old. I set this house up the same way vI had the previous house and tried to get people in recovery to move in, which some people did, but they were not into recovery. You never know what somebody wants to do until you let them live there for a while. I made a mistake about who I rented to. Most of the new tenants were not interested in a sober recovery program. When these new renters were not into the recovery program that I wanted. So instead of working all the problems out I let myself get into a negative thought pattern. I started using drugs and drinking again, which led to this house failing and myself ending up in the hospital again. Unfortunately, this experiment failed and took my successes at the other house down with it. IU let my pain and personal problems destroy another good effort to do something right. This was becoming a to familiar pattern of failure I was tired of, but not overcoming on my own. I need to say despite all these negative occurrences with attempting to control pain, I finally succeeded many years ago getting it all under control. I do not drink like I once did and my medications have worked well for me for seven years now.
11:02

Recovery in Oregon

I was the CEO of this non-profit created to build this house and had received donations from some business, the best was from a well know lumber company who sent around 40 people to the house and worked a long day accomplishing many things. I also appeared on the local news talking about what I was trying to do with this house for veterans. I keep mentioning bad times associated with drinking that I experienced during these times, when I was still trying to deal with the aftermath from my injuries. I had pleaded with many doctors to help me with pain medication, but to no avail. Weather at this time I could have found a way to take painkillers responsibly, I will never know. The drinking was all about attempting to live without pain. Until I met my current doctor, who helped me adjust to pain medication, and not abuse it so it could help me, I was lost with no other way to live without constant pain, and consequently the drinking prevailed. Because of my self-medicating with alcohol, I was not making any progress in my life. Every time I thought I was getting a little ahead the booze always overcame my best efforts. I could not deal with the nerve damage pain my body had been experienced. This housing venture did not work with me in charge and I was voted out of the non-profit. I decided to go back to California, wait for my check from the insurance company, and plan a fresh start. I had been in a program in Roseburg and decided to go there and try my housing program again.

Starting up in Oregon.

Here I am in Oregon. Partied with my friend the night I arrived, which was fun until his girlfriend said we were depriving her of sleep. So we gave it up and the next day I found a motel room to hang in. Motels rooms have never been good for me, and this one was no different from any in the past. I sat around the room and drank rum with no thought about what might happen next. After two days of this, I checked myself into another detox. This was becoming a habit for me. I spent a week in this place and then found a sober house to move into. I met a very nice guy who was recovering from a terrible accident involving the loss of his foot, which was surgically replaced, but causing him a very long rehab. I spent a couple of month eat this house, and feeling good about myself. I was involved in volunteer work for the VA and with the help of the supervisor decided to try and open a recovery house for vets in the area. This guy talked up a great trip involving non-profits, a system we could use to our advantage to get money from the federal government financing our housing trip to assist veterans. . We started construction on a house that had was damaged by fire (how appropriate!) and we started to fix it up. I moved into a part of the house that was not damaged, to keep an eye out to safe guard the place from theft or whatever. I became bored living by myself and started drinking again. Another decision on my part that was not good.

Made it to Oregon

My legal problems became more then I could deal with. I was facing jail time in the future and this prospect was not something I thought I could handle. I made a decision to leave Washington. I packed everything into my car, said my goodbyes and was off to Oregon, where I had friends that lived in and around Eugene. This was a risky drive, because if I was stopped and my license run, which was no longer valid, it would have been discovered that I was leaving the state when I was not supposed to be going anywhere. Luckily I was not stopped (of course I maintained the speed limit), but just before I crossed the border between Oregon and Washington I lost a hubcap going over the line. This was totally weird and of course, there was no way I was going back to get it. The way this occurred blew my mind, because here I was crossing over the boarder and having made my safe escape from Washington, but at the very time, I felt safe, having left the state, here pops up a situation to cause me to think about turning around to retrieve my hubcap, after all, it was a Mercedes hubcap! I easily convinced myself this would be a bad idea and just kept on trucking and loving that I had got out of Washington. I then was off to a friend’s house, who I had not seen for sometime and we partied all night and I felt very relieved.

Inquisitive

My escapades in Washington where not a highlight in my life, in fact what I became involved in was a very low point in my recovery. I was literally grabbing at straws and just hanging on. So I have to ask; why are there so many crazy people around? I have had it with ongoing paranoia associated with relationships. I do not want to whine very much about relationships that do not work out and leave you feeling empty when they end. All this philosophy comes from expensive lessons learned the hard way, because I trusted. How often has your trust been violated by another? I have tried to keep an open mind, but there have been times when my mind closed down, because trust was abused. Enough of my comments about trust for now and maybe longer.

An unusual relationship

When I finally ended up in court to settle these matters, I was informed I would have to spend some time in jail and pay a fine; of course, I would lose my license to drive. This was not going to work out for me very well and I decided with a suggestion from my lawyer that if I did not have any good reason to continue my stay in Washington, I might be a lot better off leaving. I managed to put off the jail time for six months, convincing that Judge that because of my disability and the jail without air-conditioning, it would be detrimental to my health if I was locked up during the summer months. He agreed, giving me sometime to figure out what I was going to do. I decided that leaving the state of Washington was my best option. I had some time to organize and as luck would have it, I met another crazy woman. I forget where we met, but suffice to say we did. She was oversexed and demanding. As it turned out, If she did not feel satisfied she would become violent. I found out later she had a restraining order against her from a previous boyfriend who she attacked. Of course, I did not know about any of this and was blissfully going along with this relationship. It was nice to have some love in my life, but that was until she became upset about something. I think it was because I fell asleep, and she thought she did not receive what she was entitled to. I apologized profusely, but she decided to throw a candle at me. A candle I had made for her. Was that fair? I ask you now, what is right, anyway? My thumb was broken by a gift I gave her? Didn't seem right at the time and still doesn't. While the candle was in flight, it was headed straight for my eye and I was lucky enough to deflect the candle, but it hit my thumb and broke it in three places. Of course, the police showed up and informed me of this woman's history. This was not the highlight of my evening. Then the police told me when she was with her previous boyfriend, after an disagreement she went after him with a knife. I guess I should consider myself fortunate that she only wielded a candle against me. This was actually a completely ridiculous situation, and let this be a lesson to you; do not drink with crazy women! Also, know something about whom you are hanging with. Have a sensible outlook, or if you find yourself in a similar position because you are horny, be careful. And good luck with that!

Still in Washington

The trip my aunt made was short. They attended a wedding in Idaho. My cousins and I grew up together during the summers, starting when we were young and not attending school during summer vacations. My cousins lived in Chicago, they would come out during the summer and stay with their mother in California, and I would join them wherever they were. This was always fun. We had not seen each other for years and reminisced about times past. The three of us had become heavy drinkers and my going to Washington created the perfect environment to catch up with each other's experiences since we were all discharged from the military in the late 1960's. My cousins were Marines and I was Navy. My Aunt and Uncle came home after a short trip, which lasted around ten days. I started looking for a place to rent, while they started planning for a two-month drive to the south and other parts of the United States. I rented his apartment in a building that had outlived its usefulness, and should have been torn down at least twenty years earlier, if not for the beach location, I am sure it would have been. I rented this place with my cousin's son, another alcoholic carrying on a fine tradition in our family. The arrangement did not work out very well. It lasted for about two month's, and then I was on my own again, after requesting my cousin to leave. I just hung at this place for a few months not making any progress concerning a sensible lifestyle. Things were decidedly not working to my advantage and I was extremely depressed. While I was in Washington, I had a hard time, which was brought on by myself during the two years I was there. I ended up with three DWI's in a six-month period.

In Washington

In Washington

I landed at my aunt's house, which started a party atmosphere, but one, which I did not know the extent of until latter in the evening. I was trying to maintain a sober life and was been told that my cousin was doing the same. After all the socializing and fun, we all had talking to one another it was time to close it all down. My aunt and uncle went to bed and then my cousin came out of his room with a bottle of good whiskey and wondered if I wanted a drink. Not expecting this I just went with the flow and said of course, I wanted a drink. My cousin and I had a lot of history, enjoying a good party anytime it presented itself. We had lived together in San Francisco for a number of years and having a good party time as a matter of course. I had a drink with him and we proceeded to get loaded again, like so many times before. This was a good time and enjoyed by I for sure. The next day we had to take my aunt and uncle to the airport so they could start their travels. I had agreed to take care of my aunt's place while they were away. For some reason she thought I was responsible and would take good care of her home while they were away. She had no reason to doubt my commitment to watch over her home. I was not in great shape or responsible as she hoped, but I could not tell her that. Things went OK for a while and everything was going good, then everything got out of control. My cousin and I continued to drink like fishes out of water, enjoying ourselves immensely.

Going to Oregon

The flight back to San Francisco was not pleasant. I was very sick from the exposure to the heat while I was there and it was going to take awhile to recover. I was back in the bay area and loving the cooler climate. I started planning a trio to Oregon and Washington to visit friends and family. I got my Mercedes coupe out of storage and my brother tuned it up, changing fluids and anything that needed to be repaired or upgraded. I loved this car and always treated it well. I spent three weeks visiting family and then set out on December 29th to Oregon. I have some friends who live in Eugene Oregon and that was my first stop. I made a side trip to Bend to visit with a dear friend for a few days and we had a good visit. Then, it was back to Eugene. This dialogue may be boring, but it is going somewhere. When I got back to Eugene, the town was experiencing a rare snowstorm, which in my opinion, not unusual considering the way my luck had been going. After parting extensively I* decided to leave and promptly back my car into a ditch. Fact is, I should not have been driving, but AAA tow got me out of the ditch and as soon as I got to highway 5 I needed to put chains on, slowing me down, which was a good thing. I was on my way to Oak Harbor Washington where my aunt lived and my cousins were there. One lived there and the other was visiting. Arriving in Oak Harbor the next day, starting a two year stay that was only memorable for it’s negative results that just kept coming one after another.

Leaving the Philippines

Now I was ready to leave the Philippines, but this could be tricky. Two of the girl’s brothers were Manila police. Every time I went out around town, they accompanied me to keep me safe. There were many kidnappings of Americans in the Philippines at this time and I did appreciate their company. I had heard a few stories about what had happened to some foreigners while they were here. The country is very religious and takes sexual relations very seriously, although this girl was no virgin, but I had said I was going to marry her, which was my intention for going there in the first place. Now I was changing my mind and the family had a lot riding on me marring this girl. When I let it be known I had to go back to the states, I started getting visits from mom and her sisters regarding my in tensions. I perceived this situation could get complicated if I appeared to be leaving and caring about the relationship. I had met one of her sisters and her husband who was really good people and understood how I was feeling. They told me they thought the family was putting to much pressure on me for their own personal gain and said they would help me get to the airport without the rest of the family knowing when I was leaving, at least not the exact day. My last get together with mom and sister I told them the heat was making me very sick (it was) and I had to go home, but I would do the paper work and send for her daughter as soon as I could get immigration to approve the visa. They left me alone and then the next day the couple who befriended me provided transportation to the airport. Once inside the terminal I was safe, because of the security situation that existed at the time, unless you had a ticket you could not gain access to the terminal. I made my escape. A trip to Oregon and Washington State was next on the agenda.

Fun in the Philippines

We enjoyed each other's company for about six weeks until I could not handle the constant get me pregnant and marry me conversations. I was getting it from all sides, Mother, aunts and all the women in the family. The ending to all this for me was when she said, "after we got back to the states that I had to initiate the paper work to bring her family to the United States." This was at least 30 people. Now I am an easy going, accommodating guy, but suddenly I saw myself with a full house of her relatives for the rest of time. I found out if you sponsor a family member, you have to guarantee them a place to live for a minimum of six months and this was not what I wanted for myself, and to top it off, with the heat getting to me and with the brown outs and the air conditioning shutting off I was getting sick. To explain, when you have lost most of your sweat glands you become susceptible to overheating. I had lost 65% of my sweat glands, because of 3rd degree burns and in those days, I had a horrible time in hot weather. Our bodies expel heat through our sweat glands and if you are without the means to dissipate your internal heat, you will have a major problem.

Fun and games in the Philippines

This trip to the Philippines was very amazing. I got there on a very hot day (which to my consternation was normal) and settled into a motel room with air conditioning, only to disco9ver Manila was experiencing blackouts every day. After being picked up at the airport by her relatives and herself, I was taken to a motel to stay. I thought we would take time to get to know each other and not have sex right away. Which was not what she wanted? As it turned out all this girl wanted, was to get pregnant, which I guess she thought would be her ticket the U.S. As it turned out she just got naked, she was a very pretty lady, and seduced me with little effort on her part. She very much wanted to be impregnated, but I resisted that for the time being. I stayed in this motel for a week and then rented this penthouse apartment in downtown Manila, which had a swimming pool outside my door on the roof. This was a nice setup and would have been a lot more enjoyable if I wasn’t constantly under pressure to make this girl pregnant. I always pulled out in time to avoid this happening and she got very mad about that. Her goals were very obvious and I didn’t want to be a part of that. Call it morals or not wanting to be obligated to raise a child at this time. Who knows? It gets sticky in the PI, more soon.

Another setback

I was doing well at this house, speaking before large gatherings at AA or NA meetings, telling my story of survival. I spent a good year at the house and this might have continued in a positive vein, except for what happened to me at my job at the VA workshop. I was lifting a heavy box of letters to be -0processed and felt a twinge in my neck that was painful. I injured a disk in my neck and after many tests including a MRI, it was determined, I would need surgery to correct the disk. I had the surgery and it was very successful. I was prescribed pain medication. Even though I needed this medicatio0pn to help in my recovery from the surgery, this was the worst treatment I could have got, not that there was anything better at the time. I was now taking narcotics again. This led to an old behavior I was very familiar with. When the pills I was using were no longer available to me, I looked for other avenues to pursue pain relief or perhaps I just wanted to stay high. Staying high was my goal after almost two years of being straight. Well I decided I could no longer stay in this house having been discovered getting high and asked to leave. I went to a friends house for awhile and then got an idea involving going to the Philippines. I had been corresponding with a young girl who was introduced to me by a line worker at the Vets workshop. I had made phones calls and wrote letters to this girl for over a year. I was on my way to the Philippines.

A new biginning

I moved into a new apartment, which was a room in a large house, but at the very least I had some privacy. The other residents were not into total sobriety, as I found out soon enough. One was a heroin addict and the other liked all forms of drugs and drinking, like me. To say we hit it off was an understatement. A continuous party was going on. This lasted about six weeks and I was a wreck, having spent what money I had accumulated during my time at the previous housing. I burned out and some friends got me out of there and into another program in Los Gatos. This was a private program in a nice facility. I had a private room for thirty days and a better way of life existed there. The counselors were all good people and the other people in recovery were all from a better station in life and easy to get along with. You need to understand I grew up in Danville, California, which was a wealthy community and the people from this area that I was at now at now were of similar pedigree and station in life. I got along with everyone in the program just fine. After completing this program, I was able to get a room in a recovery house in Los Gatos and a job at the VA workshop in San Jose. Things were looking up. I stayed in this house, which had a multitude of characters living there, for three months. We had a house meeting every night to voice our concerns or problems, which were about anything you had on your mind. This meeting was more then interesting almost every night, because two of the women living there were always in disagreement. Lots of cat fights. What ENTERTAINMENT! After a few months, me and two other men talked about getting our own place that would include a house policy of total sobriety. This worked out for over a year. To be continued.

Fun and explosions

After the four weeks, I went to a transitional housing program in San Jose. This program was set up to help people get a job during their transition back into society, so long as they remained sober. This experience was a lot of fun for me, despite my aversion to heat. I have always enjoyed cooking and despite how hot it was in the kitchen during the summer I still wanted to contribute and do something useful. I was preparing two meals a day for 50 plus people. I was allowed to be creative with the menus and cooked some dishes that I thought were very good. I did receive a number of compliments. I spent many a hot day in the kitchen; by I did enjoy this job, which provided me with some self-satisfaction. After five weeks, I was re-evaluated, and it was determined, that I could go to another house that the program had where everyone was more independent, more worthy and self sustaining, which was another beginning that had another bad ending. I was able in these days to have many opportunities to succeed, but Mister Self-destruct took over again, and always seem to win. This is the Fourth of July and I can hear my world around me blowing up. I I am in Alameda, California and there are many explosions going off around me. It is 10:30 in the evening and I am guessing that some of these explosions are not normal fireworks. I am enjoying the explosions in the sky and the colors that come after the Roman candles explode and distribute their colors throughout this sky tonight. The explosions cover the spectrum of all the colors, are unique with their Kaleidoscope of changing patterns, and provide a uniqueness that permeates the sky with brilliance. Amen

A rough night in the City

Here I am thinking about the fourth of July and remembering where I was in 1987. When the 4th of July came around I was in the VA hospital in Palo Alto. Is there or could there be a better place I could be at? When considering my circumstances, I started thinking about this. I thought what better situation I could be in, then being in the a place where many American veterans of conflicts the United States had been involved in came to for recovery from whatever happened to them. What could be a better place for this survivor to be? I am a patriot and proud of my military service in the Navy during the Vietnam conflict.
Getting back to the story at hand, I ended up in jail for a short period, because of a warrant I had forgotten about, but I was allowed to go to a shelter for the rest of the night. The next morning I made a desperate call to my parents asking for help. My father was not happy with me, but my mother said she would come and get me. I ended up spending the night in a sleazy motel in Oakland; this was because my father would not have anything to do with me. My mom picked me up in the morning, then she drove me to the Palo Alto VA, and I went into another VA recovery program. This one was for four weeks.

A short affair

I lasted in the program around three months, then I was tempted back to the city by a young women who claimed she needed me. She was 22 and very beautiful. I was influenced once again by her beauty, because she claimed a desire to be with me. I was a pretty easy mark in those days. A tremendous mistake by me was made again. We spent a nice week together and then she took a turn to another direction, which was not being with me. Men can be such suckers about women. When the rent ran out at the hotel room we rented, I went to see her at the room she rented at another hotel (there are many of these in North Beach) in North Beach. She told me I could stay a couple of days. I had arranged to get into a four-week program at the Palo Alto VA. She had this guy who had an infatuation with her. Another man fooled by this girl. She told him she did not want me in her room. So there I am sleeping and then I wake up listening to this guy telling my I should not be there and claiming she told him she did not want me there. This came as a big surprise to me and what was a bigger surprise was he was holding a knife to my throat. As he was telling me how she had told him I did not belong there and wanted me out. I shifted a little and managed to grab the knife from him and throw it away. I have always had great reflexes. Needless to say, this surprised him and now he felt threatened by me and started yelling about fearing for his life. The managers heard all the commotion and called the cops. A few minutes later a couple of San Francisco's finest came into the room.

Back to the City.

Here I was back on the street again and with no money, and because of the 1989 quake, the vbanking system was not working well, which affected me severely. I thought after I had to leave the detox program that this was not a huge problem, until I found out my Social Security check was not in my account. I found out about this the hard way, going to an ATM machine expecting money, but because of the confusion that existed after the quake nothing was working well. No SSN checks or money transfers available. This sucked! I had managed to hook up with my friend at the hotel on Columbus and Broadway and he helped me get back into his room. I then called some agencies to try to and get my check. I was told that I should go to my Senators office, where I might get some help. I went to Barbra Boxer’s office, where I told my story. I talked with a sympathetic worker in her office who told me she would do everything she could to correct the situation. Two days later my check was in my account, saving my ass for the time being. (thank you again Barbra Boxer!) Here I was back at the scene of the crime with some money, which did not last very long with the drugs and alcohol that we were buying every day. Luckily, for me I was able to turn a few drug deals involving cocaine to supplement my income allowing me to party a little with a couple of young working girls I knew. This took some of the edge off. I made up my mind to get back to the VA drug rehab and called to find out when I could get in. As a former graduate of the program, I had preference over any first time applicants, but I had to wait two weeks before I could gain entry as long as I was sober and not high on drugs. So I hung out for a couple of weeks in North Beach, then the night before I was to be admitted back to the program I got high with a girlfriend, did some heroin and got on a train late at night headed to Menlo VA. You see I was not even close to being a good person in those days and I didn't want to think or relate to my situation and I only wanted to be distracted from my own reality. Where my head was in those days was not good. I had a confused way of thinking. Not having to feel pain, any kind of psychological or nerve pain was not what I wanted, and I would do anything I could to avoid "feeling pain" in any way. After arriving in Menlo Park, I walked over to a friend’s house and asked for temporary sanctuary for the night and a ride to the VA in the morning, which my friend provided. I was back in a long-term recovery program. Only it did not last for long.

Things did not work out so well.

I made it to the detox in Menlo Park only to run into an absolute jerk of a women who was overseeing the program. I want to use a stronger word that, but I’m trying to be understanding, but it is just not working. This crazy ex biker chick who was so proud of her recovery and thought everyone should be just like her was one of these righteous people who thought she had all the answers, but she was a joke. I had been accepted back into the long term program I needed desperately, which had helped me so much when I was in it previously, but I had to go through the detox program before I could transfer into the long term program that I needed so badly. Like, what I alluded to in a previous posting; I only had six months of good life before that good life was over. I had been enjoying my new sober life before my burn injuries. This women, was so cold and was without any understanding for anyone else’s emotions or problems. She was so involved with her personal perceived success, which she had made, and then she only thought her way was the only way. Her ideas ended up leading me to the highway. It is too bad that she was thinking everyone else should be just like her. Unfortunatley because I showed little interest in playing her role games and reenactments, she regarded me as a negative reaffirmation for gaining sobriety. This program was supposed to have provided me a positive road to recovery, but her methods I did not agree with, so she kicked me out. I’d like to be understanding, but this women put me, a Nam vet on the street, because of her run away ego. You tell me if a veteran should have been treated in this manner, ever, despite the circumstances. I wasn’t violent or disruptive, just confused and hurt and trying like hell to think clearly again.

Mental health

I have heard some peoples psyche can be damaged for life when confined, although I do not think I would have reacted in that manner, but who really knows. I am very glad I did not have to test of my survival skills at the time. I spent a couple of days in the hospital, and then called my parents and the VA hospital to try to get in a program. I was told I could go to a detox program in Menlo Park VA, which would help me get into a long-term recovery program in two weeks. I had spent 14 months in this long term program three years earlier and It had really helped me with a problem I had involving drugs and alcohol. After graduating from the program in September of 1986, I was feeling and doing great. I had six months of life that had vastly improved, with a great woman friend. I had experienced improvement from what it had been like for me prior to my spending time in this program, and after experiencing this success, I had my life, as I knew it, taken away from me. This was the peak of irony for me, I really do not know what to compare with the turn around I experienced, and although I am sure there are many such experiences by others even more insane. So tell me about yours.

Not a good feeling.

I spent about a week continuing this destructive life style until I just became to sick to do it anymore. I got on a bus headed to SF General Hospital looking for help. I just knew I had taken this craziness to far again. Since all my doctors stopped giving me pain medication it had become a constant struggle for me to try and live a normal life, and I was losing the fight. Using alcohol to try to overcome pain and depression does not work, except in the short term. I was killing myself slowly and not caring much about that. I was such a mess when I got to the hospital, the doctor inserted and IV and gave me a slow Valium drip to calm me down. I was shaking uncontrollably. When I stabilized somewhat, they got me a bed, but I was jittery and I had the need to walk around. This did not go over well with the nurse for the ward where they sent me to. I tried like hell to explain that I just need to walk this off and he would not hear of it. He ended up tying my down to my bed. I had never been restrained in my life for any reason and I was freaking out about this. I managed to undo the restraints and was able to move around, and when he when off his shift, things improved, because otherwise I am not sure how this experience would have turned out.

Let the good times roll!

Despite the drug use and the insanity that comes with it, I have to admit this was an enjoyable time in my life. After everything I had been through, to have women want to be with me, despite the obvious reasons they had, still felt good. I partied for days at a time, spending money in large amounts and not caring, just enjoying myself. This life style was destined to eventually fail, but what the hell, it was fun! This lasted for a year and as it always did in the past it also did this time too. There never is a sustained profit in this business if you party all the time and then the money runs out. I eventually found myself in a hotel room with a friend that was above the Condor at the corner of Columbus and Broadway, so depressed and drunk that I didn't feel the 1989 earthquake. I woke up and asked my friend why the ballgame (World Series between the Giants and the A's) was not on the TV. He explained what had happened, which I didn't believe, but that's what happens when you over indulge when depressed. Such is life at those times.

Dealing drugs to overcome pain

I set up a system for contacting my street sellers, using beepers and pay phones to keep in contact after I moved back to the City. I rented a place on Russian Hill, because I had decided that I needed to be living in San Francisco if I was going to make my drug selling operation work. Cupertino was just too far away to control it the way I wanted. During my trips to the City, I had been renting a room for a $100.00 a day at a motel on Broadway. After a couple of months of paying around $2000.00 a month to be in the City, It had become evident that I should relocate to the City. During my back and forth trips to San Francisco I met a lot of people who were heroin addicts and cocaine users. I enlisted some of them to help me sell cocaine at the bars in the area. This operation worked out fairly well for sometime. I met a couple dealers who handled large amounts of cocaine and who provided me with the quantities of the drug that I wanted, which opened up some other avenues to wander down.

Back to drugs.

At this time, the doctors I was seeing decided to take me off pain medication. This was not what I wanted at this time. To make matters more interesting, I was able to close out a pension fund with my union, providing me with a fair amount of cash. What timing! Pain medication was no longer available from my doctors, but I had lots of money to look into other directions for relief. I started hanging out in my old haunts in North Beach in the city, looking for sex and drugs. I was successful in both quests. Sex was easy, enough money made that happen and it did not take long to find dealers with the quantities of cocaine I wanted. In a short time, I was a player again in the drug trade. For the first time in two years, I was enjoying myself again. I believed I owed myself a good time after all the pain and discomfort I had experienced in the previous two years. The time was now towards the end of 1988, a little less then two years from my accident.
I made an honest attempt to go back to school at DeAnza junior college for a while, but having lost my pain medication and the subsequent pain and discomfort I was feeling, really helped me back into a life I was very familiar with from my younger days. It seemed such an easy solution to all my perceived problems at the time.

A new beginning

Here I was in Cupertino, in a great city and living in a condo complex, which I thought would be a vast improvement in my life. This is the story of my re-introduction into new ways of doing cocaine, O' boy. While I was going through this very unpleasant detox from metadone, which was a prescription by my doctors to help with pain during rehab, and by the way, detoxing from metadone is one of the most unpleasant things in life you can experience. I was literally climbing the walls and calling people, anyone I could talk to, which included a lot of crying. This was unbelievable. My doctor's told me there was nothing they could give me to help with the withdraw and I was supposed to bite the bullet, what fun. Well, I decided to try some cocaine to take the edge off. I was very familiar with this drug from prior use, and now I am going to relate my experiences for the next year and a half. Some things I'm going to relate may not seem real, but everything I write about is true. More tomorrow.

Moving into a better situation??"

Now I had moved into a new apartment where I could relax or thought I could. Before this, I had met this roommate in the place with the dogs, unfortunately he thought keeping a clean house was not a high priority. You just never know. I was sincerely hoping for some relative calm in my life. Dishes were left in the kitchen sink, which drives me crazy and have always been a big irritant to me. Without going into much detail, this guy was a slob. Not something, I knew about him or his personality before we got a place together. I have always wanted to live in an environment that was clean and organized. This became a difficult situation for me. I complained to him with no avail. Finally, one day he got very pissed off about my reminders regarding leaving messes around the house, and especially the kitchen. He got very angry and threw newspapers around the room, yelling about how I was such an asshole regarding my desire to have a clean and organized house. To my credit I just stared at him while this was going on, no flinching on my part. After all, what I had been through, this seemed a mild iirritant in comparison. Well, he left and then I got a great opportunity to move into a condominium in Cupertino.

Moving away from vicious dogs.

A guy who had two very vicious pit bull dogs managed the house I moved into in San Jose and he delighted in intimation, and the dogs were used this way to make others feel uncomfortable around them. I wasn't introduced to the dogs until after I moved in. I suspect on purpose. He turned out to be a very unfriendly and sick person. The dogs were chained up in the back yard, definitely not the way I would treat any animal, and I think this was on purpose by him to make them meaner. Every time I walked into the house they would charge the glass sliding door barking and snarling, what a way to come home. You need to know, that at this time I was not moving very well and felt very vulnerable regarding defending myself against anything or anyone. I stayed there for about a month, and then the other roommate and I started discussing finding our own place, because he was not happy about the situation either. We were fortunate to find a two-bedroom apartment only three blocks from Valley Medical Center, making it easier for me to get to my rehab appointments. This was in the middle of summer with many days in the 90's and above. I was still wearing my pressure garment, which was bad enough with the heat, but I had lost around 65% of my sweat glands due to the third degree burns. Some people regenerate sweat glands; about 50% of burn patients do so, but not me. Therefore, heat was a real enemy for me. I found out if I was in a very warm situation, I could get very sick due to internal heat not being able to dissipate normally through sweats glands I no longer had. This has been an ongoing problem to this day.

A courageous man

Hi everyone, I have to deviate from my usual chronicle of relating about my injuries and recovery. Michael James Keenan is surely was a courageous man. I don't know if I could have done what he did, rushing into a burning house to save a dog. For his efforts, he received 80% burns. He died today, because his body couldn't handle the damage that happened to him, because of his heroic efforts. He was a San Francisco artist and from what I've read, he had an incredible love of life, and it's was taken away today, because he wanted to save a friend's pet. It's a damn shame that he couldn't recover from his injuries. I only know how hard it was for me to recover from my 85% burns and how much it hurts me to hear he didn't make it. I only wish I had understood how serious his injuries were. There was a law passed that forbid people who were not to trained in some sort of psychiatry from talking to recovering patients, because I would have wanted to talk to him. This is my own fault and I wish I didn't have to think about why I didn't go see this man. This realization hurts me and in the future, I won't hesitate again. I just think the law they passed, that insisted you had to be a trained professional to be able talk to somebody in recovery, it is a cruel law, because that is the only reason I hesitated going to see this courageous man and I'll not allow this to happen again. Who better can understand what a burn patient is going though if not another burn survivor? I am very sorry to hear of his passing and I'm having a very hard time finding the words to properly express myself, I am very sorry about that too.

Back to society

After my fairly uneventful stay in the VA hospital, I was told I could leave. Now I had to find a place to live, which I did in San Jose I found a home that catered to disabled people. This was a place where your meals were cooked and any help you needed was available. While at the VA I started smoking again (a very bad habit), but I* was looking to do something to elevate the boredom. With my arms frozen at the elbows this became a challenge. I found a telescopic cigarette holder that expanded to about two feet, which enabled me to smoke again. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t such a good a problem solver. So here I was in a new home having furnished my room with a hospital bed, new TV and VCR and bored to death. I could not walk easily, which limited my moving around. I became so depressed about my situation that I forced myself to walk three blocks to a store (not an easy thing to do). I then bought myself a bottle of rum to ease my boredom. Not the smartest decision I ever made. I was incredibly depressed and lonely. I lost my girlfriend and I was trapped in an impossible situation and feeling very lonely. I had to get out of this situation, but I had not figured out what to do. At least while I was there I learned how to use the kitchen and was able to cook for myself, which motivated me to move into a room in a house that I could try and regain some self-support on my own again. This turned out to be a crazy situation, which I’ll talk about tomorrow.

A very good feeling

A very good feeling.
I am going back a little to Valley medical Center towards the end of my stay there. There was a nurse who I was attracted to, but in reality my attraction was a misnomer, in fact she was a really nice lady, and my attraction was because of my loneliness. The attraction was misguided. One night when I was not feeling very good, because my girlfriend and told me things were not going to be the way they were before my accident. I was not very happy about this and the nurse could tell I was not feeling very good. She took me into washroom where the big tub was. I was due a dressing change and she went out of her away to make me comfortable and let me feel wanted and cared for. She let me soak in the tub for a long time, while she gently removed my dressings. In fact, she lit candles and made the room very special. This was by all accounts the best dressing change I had during the whole time I was there. This wasn't a sexual experience, but it was the best experience I had while in the hospital in San Jose.

The wonder of it all

Hi there, I’m going to make a rare Sunday post. I’ve settled into a comfortable rehab at the VA. I get a nice shot of Demerol every morning before my stretching and rehab routine. This make me comfortable for a while. That’s all the history I’m going to talk about today. I’m appealing to9 anyone reading my dissertations to respond., Weather it’s negative or positive doesn’t matter. I would love to hear any comments from whoever has been following my efforts. Let me know what you think about what I’m putting forth. This is a very serious endeavor for me. It’s not that easy to talk about such a painful experience I lived through. So, if your out there, let me know how you feel, thanks, Rick Another poem.

The Realization
How am I supposed to feel?
Is this real?
My body has changed,
I have no more range.
Unable to move and it's strange.
I move in my mind, but there is no change.
The pain is very real.
I didn't pursue this deal.
My memory is filled with flames.
When I rather think about dames.
Do you remember names?
Is the one I love still the same?
She says we can't play the old games.
In my heart I cry.
Please, somebody tell me why.
People surround me with sympathy
Do they really have any empathy?
Can I accept this change?
When this feeling is so strange.
I don't know why

It just makes me cry.

My daily routine

When I got the VA hospital, I fell into a daily routine that didn't change for some time. After getting up in the morning, I had breakfast, and then relaxed for a while, after that a nurse would come and give me this nice shot a Demerol that was to get me ready for my rehab. Then I walked down the hall to the rehab department where they put me through stretching exorcises and other procedures to stretch my scar tissue and rehabilitate my muscles. This wasn't as painful as it could have been, because the Demerol worked very well. One thing that was nice about being at the VA, I was allowed a lot more freedom. I could go to the cafeteria and order a cheeseburger or a breakfast if that's what I wanted, which was really nice because the VA food wasn't very special. I really don't want to complain about the food at the VA, but it was nice to have an alternative. What was also nice about being in the VA hospital, was I could go out to town. It had been four months since I was able to see well. After the first week in Valley Medical Center I told the nurses that I was wearing contact lenses and they immediately remove them and since then I couldn't see anything very well, because any glasses I had were destroyed in the fire and then I was unable to see very well for the next four months. My mom took me to an optometrist and I was able to get new glasses, which really helped. That was a major improvement and it was nice to be able to see things clearly again.

A poem

As I lay here sleeping,
then wake up thinking I’m dreaming.
fire, fire, fire,
all around me is fire,
making me feel rather dire.
My hand touches the flame,
then pulls back in pain.
I'm feeling scared and strange.
I do not like this change.
Here I am searching for a way out.
I hear myself shout.
I open the window with force,
I'm lit up like a torch.
Falling towards the ground,
not making a sound,
I hit the ground hard.
I'm wrapped in a shroud,
by helpful people down below.
This has become a big show.
Finally I'm rescued by a team,
that transports me with a scream.

Transfer to the VA

I’m still at Valley Medical Center in San Jose, but not for much longer. It’s been three months. I talked about the insurance company deciding I was cured and they determined the time was right for my discharge. My Dad who had experienced a traumatic injury in his life questioned this decision by the insurance company and the doctors who were afraid they would not get any more money for my care. (My opinion) This health insurance situation in this country is very scary and I was about to become another statistic in the system. This was 1987 and things have not improved much since then, overall it has all gone to hell. My Dad went to the social worker and complained that I was not ready for discharge, very true, and he did something about it. With the help of the social worker and the fact that I was a veteran, which helped me, as they contacted the VA hospital about taking me in for a rehabilitation program. The VA luckily agreed. To the treatment. I am a Vietnam veteran. Never saw real combat, but put my time in aboard the U.S.S Hornet during its last deployment to Nam. Therefore, I was transferred to the VA. At first, this was not a great situation. They put me in a room without a private shower, which didn’t work out very well, because I had to shower every day and have my dressings change. I still had some areas requiring treatment. The first day they took me to the community bathroom was very unpleasant; luckily, the nurses saw the potential for infection and the overall insanity of using this area with a patient so susceptible to infection and requested I get the room on the ward with a private bath. I was settled in at the VA hospital and this was good. More soon. Love you all, Rick

Continued recovery

I’m getting off my soapbox today. Frustration and loneliness are powerful motivators. Things in general were improving; I was allowed to have food brought in by family and friends. If you know anything about hospital food, you understand my exuberance about this change. The doctors also allowed me to have a couple of beers a day, which was nice until me and my friend got a little drunk one night by drinking a few more than two, causing the staff to keep a closer eye on me and what my friend brought in for me. Getting a little drunk after two plus months of hell, was a nice release and I’m grateful to my friend for it had been awhile since I was able to feel relaxed, and this was a nice change from my daily routine. I was still receiving some pain medication, but not enough to overcome my continuous pain. I was told I had to expect some discomfort, which was my future prospect in life, to hurt, but the doctor’s did not want to put me on what they referred to as a progressive drug treatment. A regime of pain medications that would always increase over time, and they didn’t want to be responsible for that type of prescription. When you are in constant pain, as I was, this is not something you want to hear, “just bite the bullet and deal with it.” This attitude by my doctors started me on a ten-year quest to find relief from pain, which was briefly interrupted by the VA hospital when I was there for rehabilitation. My insurance company, by their calculations determined I had recovered sufficiently to be discharged from the hospital. This was not true. You see they have all graphs that tell them when you are well again, so they can stop paying your medical bills. The name of this company will not be disclosed to protect the innocent. More about this tomorrow.

Relations

During the time, I was in the burn unit I wondered how women might react to me and my changed condition. My doctors and social workers told me that the majority of relationships ended or were changed considerably when one partner was disabled or physically changed with a deformity. I was hoping to experience compassion from women that I was attracted to, but so far, this has not been true. I need to clarify that as a young man, I was told I was attractive and I was always attracted to women who I percieved to be attractive. This is a state of mind that all of us experience. We know what we like and who we would like to be with. So let's just say at this point that I knew who I wanted to meet and be with, and in my mind my way of thinking wasn't going to change about who I was interested in, because of my injuries. Let's admit to ourselves, and be honest about how we are and how we think, because we have a tendency and decide early on who we would like to be with and who we become attracted to. I believe that physical attraction is the first thing that comes up when meeting somebody new and is a very important part of who we want to be with and fall in love with. Unfortunately, for me, my experiences and my attitude was shaped by to many negative experiences with women, who after they found out about my burn injuries rejected me. After that, I was influenced by bad results. When I discussed with others what happened to me and with women I was interested in, they all tried to be encouraging, but they had no idea what was going on. All saying that can't be true, women are compassionate and understanding. It's nice to be positive when you have no real understanding of reality and it doesn't affect you personally. The reaction from some women was bad enough and when they just totally backed off after knowing my situation, did hurt. I sincerely wish this wasn't so, but all the compassion and understanding I've heard women say they have has not translated into a good experience for me. I'm not really bitter about this, in fact I really understand having been turned off myself to someone who had an obvious disability, especially scarring or a physical ailment that makes a person unattractive. Therefore, I guess if I have been treated in the same fashion by others responses towards me, I should just accept this, this is very difficult to do. I'm working on changing my outlook and I hope maybe what I want in a relationship may happen one these days. Good luck and hang in there.

Improving recovery

As I advanced to the second month of recovery the really painful dressing changes stopped towards the end of the month. My immediate surgeries for skin grafts ended and I was being fitted for a pressure garment, which is an elastic material that applies pressure to your skin in an attempt to reduce the raised scarring. This all happened before I had the first elbow operation, so I could use my arms again. Consequently I needed help to wear the suit. Nurses helped me out of it and after a cleansing, helped me back into it, as they were still applying dressings to the wounds that had not completely healed. My pain medication was also reduced, which I didn’t much care for, but they wanted to slowly take off narcotic dependency. I was able to move around the ward and go outside for a short time. The whole time I was in the burn unit the hospital was building a new wing, which was going to have a state of the art burn unit. The ironworkers could see into my room, were always friendly, and waved to me, which was nice. It seems my timing was always a little off, because when the new burn unit was finished it offered much better overall treatment. However, such has been my luck! Things were starting to improve and my outlook to the future was feeling better.

Learning to walk

The next month that I was in the hospital was very uneventful, except for learning to walk again. If you discount the continuous pain I experienced with all the dressing changes, things were improving. Lucky for me after sometime they reduced the changing of my dressing to one a day, so at least I only had to experience this ordeal once a day. They also started using this big bathtub to assist in loosing the dressing with water, before this procedure started, before it was all done while I was in bed. The use of the tub did make it easier and somewhat less painful. I became friendly with the nurse technician who worked the tub, who was also a baseball fan, so we had good times talking about the Giant's baseball team. This helped take some the edge off. Sometime during the second month the nurses made me get out of the bed and sit in a wheelchair and then making me learn how to walk again. Quite painful. This learning to walked again became quite an experience, because every time I had a surgery they would take skin from my legs to apply to other parts of my body, and I had to stay off my feet for appropriate amount of time for the donor sites to heal. This caused me to have to repeat the process of learning to walk again, because each time my muscles tightened up and they had to be loosened up again. Finally they stopped taking skin from my legs and I could start moving around the ward and learning to do normal things again.

I want to deviate from my normal dialogue about my recovery from burn injuries and talk about myself. Most people I've encountered in my life do not believe how shy I am. I cannot approach anyone I do not know, especially women, and strike up a conversation. This has plagued me all my life. I think early rejections and expectations contributed to this behavior. I really don't understand it. This has led me to living alone for a lot of my life, and after my injuries, it has created even more insecurity for me. I have thoughts about why no one would want to be with me. I perceive my scars to be a total turnoff to women I'm attracted to. I have heard women talk about being with someone who has been totally changed by being scarred from burns, and they said they could not be with a man so much changed in appearance after they were scarred in any manner. I was in a hospital elevator with two young girls who didn't realize I was a burn injury survivor, and their conversation was about a husband, and how this girl did not think she could ever be attracted to him again. This was a devastating conversation for me to hear. I was also told that 90% of relationships are over when one partner is disfigured in any way, an very unfortunate statistic. I had a relationship that had hit hard times, but my injuries sealed the deal for our separation. I'm 60 now and I think I still look attractive, but I completely unsure of my prospects regarding meeting someone I'm attracted to. I've been with many women in my life, and I always wanted the relationship to work out, but because of something about myself or the woman, things never worked out. Who knows what goes wrong, but I don't deny my independent inflexible attitude has had something to do with my lack of success in romance. I don't like being told how I should live or be. Maybe this attitude spells a lonely life for me, but is it so difficult to understand why I would want to be with someone who is not out to change me? I think that I am at a definite disadvantage now, but I also hold out the hope of still meeting a soul mate. The 18 to 22 year old women, who want to be my friend, please stop I'm not interested in your porn sites. My hope still remains the same, to meet someone I could never approach on my own. I need some help in this area. Thanks to anyone who reads this post and might relate.

More recovery

I started to think in terms of doing things for myself, like feeding myself and controlling what was happening to me. Only I wasn't very successful in attempting to do things for myself, other than being able to feed myself. I wanted to do other things, like being able to go to the bathroom by myself, but that was just one of many things I couldn't do at the time. When you can no longer clean yourself, because you are unable to do so, and because when the natural functions of a human are compromised they are lost when you can no longer take care of yourself. This is a very frustrating feeling. If you cannot accept your dilemma and when you understand that things are completely out of your control, then you are doomed to frustration. I just decided I could not do anything about what was going on with me, and by accepting my situation was the only positive thing I could do. Because I was trapped in a difficult situation, I had to accept the way things were. I hated this arrangement, but being trapped in a hospital bed left me with no other alternatives.

Early recovery

During the first month I don't remember much. At this time it was touch and go for me, and along with the heavy doses of drugs things were not very clear. I was in my bed with very little movement on my part. Then I developed calcium deposits in my elbows and I was told if I didn't move them there was the possibility I could lose the use of my arms to bend at the elbow and work normally. This condition develops in 50% of burn patients and it happened to me. It was just to painful to move my arms and I refused the physical therapy knowing Icould lose the use of my arms, which I did. My right arm froze up at 45 degrees and my left was straight with no bend. It was explained to me that surgery could correct the condition later on when I was healthier. I opted for this choice. After I had been in the hospital for about 45 days and when I became able to feed myself. The physical therapist made some tools for me. The physical therapists were two women who were very good and compassionate. They made me silverware with long handles so I could feed myself. This was a learning experience that took some time to learn, but hunger can be a great motivator. More tomorrow.

Wanting to live

I don’t think in most situations people even give a conscious thought about living. I believe the act of living comes naturally to most of us. Really putting your mind into the thought process of wanting to live is something very different. Unless you are despondent with constant thoughts of death on your mind, then I think we take living for granted. I know I didn’t give life a second thought. Convincing yourself that you want to live doesn’t get much thought either, unless you experience something like I have. Having your whole perspective about life change and then given lots of time to think about it, because you are confined unable to move around normally and in a situation, that gives you no choice, but to think about yourself and your present circumstances.
I remember having some very deep thoughts about my mortality, which led to my wanting to die, but it also, with help it gave me time to analyze my life and think about what I wanted my life to be. I became angry over what had happened to me, making me want to get my life back as I remembered it or as close to it as I could. Anger can be incredibly motivating. Properly channeled it can accomplish amazing things in recovery. What I’m saying is, get mad, don’t accept what happened to you. Grab a hold of your existence and make it as good as you can despite what has happened you.

Wanting to die

Wanting to die
There comes a time after a traumatic injury, especially with disfiguring burn injuries when the injured person no longer has a desire to live. It was explained to me that at least 90% to 95% of burn patients feel this way and they cannot see any future for a good life. You are in your hospital bed unable too do much of anything and all I thought about was what my life was going to be like in the future. These thoughts were incredibly depressing, as I could not perceive a positive outcome to my surviving these injuries. All I could think about was who would want to be with me, all scarred as I would be, and I could no longer see any a positive future for myself. It took some time to work through these feelings. The influence that changed my thinking was instilled by my mother, who told me we don't quit, this family does not give up, which shocked me out of my negative thinking. She said, "We don't give up." This had a profound effective on me. I had never in my life thought that I would not want to live, but the situation I was in was the first time ever that I did not want to live. I feel very fortunate there were others who would not allow me to invest in this negative thinking. To this day, I'm very happy that I changed my mind about wanting to die.

Surgeries

When it was determined that I would survive, the doctors had to start doing skin grafts. As I mentioned previously I was not supposed to live more than five days, and the reasons for that were, because seriously burned individuals usually develop pneumonia or their wounds become infected, and if that happens your chances of survival really drop. When it was determined I was strong enough to tolerate anesthesia and an operation the doctor started doing skin grafts on the really serious burn areas on my body. This required finding good skin, which I had very little of, in fact the first operation they used pigskin to stabilize a badly burned area on my body. I had seventeen operations involving skin grafts and most of the skin they used came from my head, which they used three times. My head was the only area of my body that had skin they could use, so every time the skin grew back on my head, they used it on the other parts of my body. When they take skin from another area of your body, it's called a donor site, which I found out could be more painful than actual area they use the skin on. In fact that's the way it was, because what they were doing was peeling the skin off and if you can imagine how painful that would be, then you can understand what I was feeling.

Visitors and cards

I had no idea how many friends and acquaintances I had. Within a week I had an entire wall in my room covered with cards and best wishes. In the beginning of my recovery many people stopped by to to see how I was doing, unfortunately I don't remember much about what they might have said to me. I remember my dad telling me about a woman, a friend of my Aunt who wanted to perform a ritual of some kind over me. To this day, I'm not sure what that was going to be, but I think it was to be some chant with the waving of arms and praying over me. My father said he could only imagine me waking up and seeing this woman waving her arms and chanting something over me and how I might react to that and told her that would not be a good idea. I thanked him for his insight and I can only imagine what I might have thought upon waking up and opening my eyes, and seeing this woman doing whatever she had a mind to do. I'm glad I missed the ritual.

Daily activity.

When becoming somewhat coherent in the hospital, I was indoctrinated to the daily routine of my daily treatment. This involved two dressing changes a day. This was no fun. My burns covered most of my body and had to be treated each time I had a dressing change. This was a very painful procedure and being confined to a hospital bed with no where to go, you don’t look forward to this dressing change procedure. I was given what was called a supplement pain medication. These were shots of I don’t know what, but were supposed to control the pain for short periods. I could only get so many of these and it seemed they were never enough. Removing my bandages caused great pain and was not something I looked forward to. I can only describe this procedure and the resulting pain, as one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced. The result is screaming in pain until you pass out. I wish for my sake if was different, but that is the truth of it.

Family

Family

My parents were vacationing in Ireland, and when they found out what had happened to me, they got on the first flight they could and came home. At the time, I did not know that some of the hospital staff had told them that I would maybe live for another five days, which was unknown to me when they arrived at the hospital to see me. I was only interested in one thing. Due to a recent breakup with a woman I thought I was going to marry, I had become depressed about that. It be became very important to me that they didn't think I was trying to commit suicide. I remember being in the hospital bed with a tube down my throat, which made it very hard to talk, but I had to tell my parents this wasn't an attempt to end my life. Despite how incredibly hard it was talk, but I managed to say what I needed to and tell them this was not an attempt at suicide. This was the most important thing to me to express, as I didn't want my mother to think I had tried to kill myself. Why exactly I was so intent to express this to her is obvious to me now and I'm glad I was able to tell my parents that this was just an accident.

A great doctor.

I had been experiencing incredible pain and I knew I having found out a long time ago that I had a very high tolerance to medications of any kind. I was getting two dressing changes every day, this is when they removed all the my bandages, then washed my wounds, and then replaced every bandage after applying the medications. This was an incredible painful experience. I am in this hospital bed with a tube my throat, which makes it almost impossible to talk, but I had to say something to my doctor because I was absolutely suffering. I could barely talk, and appealed to my doctor to please increase the pain medication, because what they were giving me was not doing the job. Thankfully, she listened to me and increased the medication that I absolutely needed to control the pain. I now think that I would not have survived the initial part of my recovery without her helping me to control the pain. I thanked this woman and sent her card for Christmas thanking her for listening to me. During these first weeks of my recovery, I do not have many clear memories of what happened, but this situation involving the pain medication was very prominent in my mind, thank you doctor again. Next post is about family.

Pain.

When I first became conscious in the hospital, my first memory was incredible pain that I felt when they were cleaning my wounds. I was in this tub, and they were spraying me with water to clean out the dirt, that had accumulated in my wounds after jumping out the window. Pain was incredible, was mostly indescribable. I can only remember screaming because of the pain and losing consciousness because of it. In the she is It's very hard to describe the pain that comes with third degree burns and the continuing pain that is experienced when treating the burns. Pain medication can only do so much, and I have a very high tolerance to drugs, which made it even more difficult for the doctors to treat me. If I hadn't been able to convince my doctor to increase the pain medication because of this tolerance, I'm not sure what would've happened.

Do not accept negative thinking.

I began with self-talk, by telling myself things could be worse. I concentrated on the positive things. My face was not burned, and I was still capable of making love. These things are taken for granted until they are threatened or for some taken away. My suggestion for a positive recovery is to find whatever it is you can be happy about no matter if it is insignificant to the big picture, because it will not be to you. This may not be much, but if you want to recover, there will be something to feel good about, and available to you. This is not magic, it can be and probably is the hardest thing you will ever do, and you must convince yourself that you want a productive life. This will not be easy, but what other choice do you have? Giving up is not the answer. Never refuse support by turning someone away who wants to talk to you. It’s not uncommon to want to crawl into your shell, but don’t. I have added a couple of links I think could be helpful.

Accepting the challenge.

Hi there, when you are feeling completely out of it and lying in a hospital bed things can be pretty bleak. With some help from recovering burn survivors, I got angry. I asked all he usual questions; why me, what did I do to deserve this and so on. It was suggested that I should be pissed off about this development in my life. I agreed with that suggestion and told myself this (what happened to me) was not fair. Anger became a great motivator for me. I said to myself this was unfair and what could I do about it. I decided I wanted my life back, and it had to be as close to the way I remembered it. I had many problems related to my injuries, and in the beginning of the recovery process, my state of mind was the main problem to overcome. This is where my anger helped me. I realized the process was going to take time and involve considerable pain, but I knew I had to endure and accept the fact that I couldn't be the person I was before the accident, but I damn sure could come close. By thinking in those terms I became convinced the road to my recovery was available to me if I went for it. Next post, the many obstacles to overcome. Rick

Do you think your situation is hopeless?

At one time, I didn't believe my life could be enjoyable anymore. With the help of other burn survivors, I was able to see my life could be worth living again. Anger became a great motivator for me. I became determined to regain as much of my life before the injuries as possible. I asked myself why did this happen to me? At that point, I started to want to take back what fate had taken from me. Developing a positive attitude is necessary despite what appears to be insurmountable problems, such as loss of range of motion, scarring and thoughts that no women would want to be with me again. Self-esteem takes a real beating when you become disfigured in any way. I'll talk about developing a positive outlook again, tomorrow. Rick

Are you a seriously burn injury survivor?

My names Rick and I survived an 85% body burn, given no chance to live. This happened in 1987 and I'm going to make comments about recovery from time to time and I would like to hear from others with similar experiences. I plan to be as helpful as possible by adding links and anything I can find that might help someone recover. This is what happened to me.

I'm living in Mountain View, California; it is around three o’clock in the morning, March 8, 1987. I'm in bed asleep. I woke up to find my room was on fire. I thought I was dreaming. Not until I stuck my hand near the flames and felt the heat that I realized I wasn’t dreaming. I broke out my bedroom window, not just opening it, which would have been the best thing to do. I’m sure I was in complete shock and not thinking clearly. I then hesitated on the ledge, debating which was worse, the two story drop or getting burned. What I didn’t realize was while debating the jump I was getting burned. After jumping out by holding on to the ledge and then dropping to the ground, two girls covered me with a blanket. I was in shock and incoherent and can’t remember much conversation if there was any conversation at all, until the ambulance arrived. I can remember saying “I got out and I’m alive, I should be OK, right?” Then one of the ambulance attendants said I shouldn't be as sure about that as I could still die. I thought the ambulance attendant telling me I could still die was a cruel thing to say. I can’t remember much about the ride to the hospital. I arrived at the emergency room and they drugged me. Thank God for that. The only thing I remember clearly is screaming in pain as they washed my body so they could apply medicine to my burns. Everything after that is a blank until I woke up with a tube down my throat, making me unable to talk and I was in extreme pain. I was quite delirious for sometime, maybe the first three days. All I can really remember is a lot of pain when they changed my bandages. The doctors contacted my family and told them if they wanted to see me alive they should come right away. My family was told that I might live for five days. My parents were in Ireland, but they were found and came home when told the news. When I saw my family they looked very distressed and I thought that was because of my condition, which in part it was, but what I didn’t know was that the doctors and nurses had told them I had only five days left to live. I had been burned eighty-five percent. Sixty-five percent were third degree. Maybe three percent of people survive burns like I had. The most fortunate occurrence was my survival, which was not expected to happen and all the predictions of my imminent demise, proved wrong, by my beating the odds. Now comes the hard part, recovery. This process took over two years before I started feeling a little better about myself. My doctors were amazing.