Lightning Flashes, Thunder Rolls

I experienced an odd phenomenon the other night. It was raining, and the center of the storm was moving towards the house fast. Well sir, that storm shot out a bolt of lightning that hit our backyard somewhere. "Impossible," you say. Well if it hadn't been, it oughtt'a be. The thunder was also visible, but maybe it was just the shock on my eyes from the lightning, but I could just about swear the thunder landed in the middle of the backyard as well and that it was pink. I think I am a victim of my own eyeballs. Later, my dad confirmed that it (the lightning) did strike very close to where we live. Pretty crazy, eh?

Old Friends

Well, Well, Well. Seems like speech therapists know each other after all, no matter how far they are away from each other. An example: I was having my speech evaluation last week, (And I really need it by the way) and somehow I brought up my speech therapist at DRMC in 2006. My new SP was slightly shocked when I told her where it was at, and completely shocked me out of my socks when she asked me whether my therapist was E or V. I answered E, and I responded, "How did you know them?" She replied, "I was a grad student under them." She further queried, "What time were you released from the program?" I answered, " I graduated in July of '06, but I kept up my volunteering job 'till October when we had to move." She responded, "Wow, I came in just after you left."

If that isn't a God-thing, what is? It sure made all of my experiences down here worth while, besides finding the last quarter in my 50-states quarter set. After 12 years of looking, well, the search had finally come to an end, in a Coke machine.

Ahh... It had been a full rich day.

Getting Out

I've been at it for two weeks, now, therapy wise. The first week was swimming once a day, one time per week. This past week has been a little tougher on me seeing that not only did I have aquatic therapy, but "land therapy" as well. That's code for PT, OT, CT, and all the support groups that they offer to patients. I was assigned a case-worker that can keep track of all these activities. Just like at DRMC, I go from event to class, folder in hand 'till lunch. Being a dedicated outpatient building and not linked to a hospital in anyway, it does not have a cafeteria, so patients are encouraged to bring their own lunch. I know not if my mind is playing tricks on me, but I'm finding many similarities between the staff at DRMC and TIRR. Seven months living among some of Denton's finest tends to rub off on you, and I guess you start looking for those traits at other therapy places. I don't know why, maybe it's those people that gave you your start and you just hope to see some of them in others. I already have my first two weeks under my belt, so let's see what the future brings me!

I'M FINALLY GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE!!!!

Step By Step

Well, it's about time. Tomorrow, I'm going to go swimming for the first time in three years. Supervised, of course. You see, it's a kind of water therapy that I'll have twice a week with a special seizure therapist in the water with me. I've gained a lot of weight over this time, but I'm not one to cop out where there's cool water involved. You see, heat and humidity are major triggers for my seizures, especially the Tonic-Clonic (Thrashing around uncontrolled, yelling, most of the time unconscious type, otherwise known as a Grand-Mal) Houston is the perfect environment for this!!! Those are the type I would like to avoid. I can handle the rest pretty well. The pool is a whole new land for me (ha, ha) where seizures are concerned. I rushed in last time and paid for it with a Grand Mal. That won't happen this time. Step by step; inch by inch.

Testing Testing 456...

I've finished the testing the rehab place wanted me to go through last Tuesday, and felt kind of strange about in the end. Now I know you're sitting there asking yourself, "What would make him feel weird?" Well, numero uno: It was a small room, numero dos: It was more than a little warm, (I hate heat !!!) numero tres: I had to answer questions that were more than a little personal as a final excercise. Do you see the problem here??? Ah, Well... I'll get in on July 28th and that, as they say, is that. I'll be able to Physical and Cognitive Therapy, plus be able to something I haven't done in 3 years: swim. Last time I went swimming, I had a Grand Mal in the pool. As one who used to the commotion, it can be funny when you look back on it, but it wasn't that day. The pool staff barely understood that my dad and brothers could get me out of the water without me drowning. I was swimming laps, by the way. So that's why we don't go to the pool anymore. I'm actually looking forward to therapy; maybe I can get my life back.

Testing Testing 123...

You know it when you get that ol' feeling again- not quite deja-blue, buts it's happened to you. A major do-over is what I'm talking about, and then not so muuch. For example: In the hospital rehab today was a really good comprehension program I needed to take; but the had to test me first to see if I would be allowed in. I've already had expierience with this in Denton some 3.5 yrs back. So I took the first part of the test (hours) with a lunch break in between. Boy, was I wompered, and this was what going to be the standard if I'm going to recieve care here (long drive, unconditioned car, slightly muggy morning...) oh well, at least there's a mid-morning breeze. Gotta go back tomorrow. Let you know what I find out.

Medicine Men

We're on a medical insurance plan which, sadly, get's us little bang for our buck, but it's considered the higher rated ones. So I take off the first two weeks of May for some serious doctors' appointments, and then a bronchoscopy. Let's just say that when they released me from the hospital that day, I didn't eat too well. Fast forward on ahead about two weeks, where it's my dad's turn in the hot seat. he has several procedures done to him, all falling into the major surgery category. The doctor said it would take 4-6 days for dad to heal enough to go home. It took 4 days just to get him out of the ICU safely.* He was in a lot of pain. His complete trip in the whole hospital last just about 2 wks. and he never wants to see Jello again, because that's one of the things they feed you on a soft diet after any kind of surgery.
We've definately been busy, medically speaking, but now it's winding down...FOR NOW...

*Due to a seperate incident.

See You Later

R.I.P
Pipper Jones
? - 5/3/10

How many times have I had to write these epitaphs up now for my pets; must've been more than a decade, but I've known and felt everyone that tip-toed through my hands or sat on my shoulder. Even the dozen or so wild chicks we tried to nurse back to health each have had their own personalities and hits me right where I live when they pass on. The bird that died today was the last female in a group of male Cockatiels (inbetween a parakeet and a cockatoo.) We kept them all as pets, and had as many as eight at one time. Now, we have only four.

The story of Pipper is interesting to start with. When we got her, we did not obtain her from a pet store. (You see, one of the originals mated with one of those which my grandparents obtained, and then decided to let go of after my grandmother's death. She was a female. So, we brought her home, and let Dude (the original)well, you know the rest.

Ok, So Dude and Reepicheep had 5 Chicks: PJ, Caspian, Firecracker, Mozart, and Cookie. (There's a great story behind each name!)

When PJ was about three, we got a call from some good family friends say a bird had flown into their garage. I wasn't especially surprised at this, but on hearing it was a cockatiel, and they were willing to give it to us, gratis, I pretty much insisted that we go pick her up. The little orphan's family did not know where she came from, but I had a boy that must've been around seven or eight that was really concerned for her, to make sure she found a good home. Well, she did. We decided on the name Pipper for her, and though she did not any chicks of her own, She made my bird, PJ, a good and caring mate. A little cagehappy, and though we could never break her wild spirit, she was one of the prettiest, and softest birds of the bunch, and will make a great addition to the Father's Natural Orchestra!

Pushing Up Daisies?

I'm having a problem here, and it's happening slowly over time. Breathing. Apparently, I've had one too many brain surgeries upstairs, and some wiring got cross-connected. That was evident the other day when I had a nine- hour long headache capped off by my usual Grand Mal (which I try hard to not have for three weeks) The difference this time was that when this done, I remained calm for about a minute, then slipped into another one. I didn't come out looking like a rainbow, either. As soon as I was able, I sat upright in my recliner, my color fading from a red, to grey, to white. I'm sure I scared my parents because they could not get me to respond. After 30-45 minutes of this, I began to come around, but began to realize how strongly a part my heart was gonna have to take in this fight. I was mostly unconscious before, during, and after them, so when I wake up, It feels like I've landed on the other side of the moon.
So we've had the flipping silverware bit
We've had the brink of the abyss bit
We've done the baker's dozen seizuers...etc...
Please say we're not going to bring the rest of the house down with the rest of them???
Currently, I see myself @ 6500 seizures; not bad, when looking at it from the point of God's mercy, and that He's shielded me behind the biggest blast of the seizures. Not one gets by Him, although they try awfly hard to leave no survivors. Trust me, I know, 'cause I'm a terrific neurological headcase, that can't get a break!!!

Post-Graduate

We did it! It took 16 years of my life, but I finished formal school! Of course, that was two weeks ago. I took a cue from my grandad, and called it "The Jones School of Hard Knocks." I'm also in the shadow of my middle brother graduating, well, because if you don't know that, I would highly recommend that you start at the beginning of my postngs as you are new here. I'm also trying to land a job if I can. Of course, those pesky seizures come around now and again, and my meds are barely holding as a stopgap measure. I've got a solution for them, but I can't be off by more than a half-hour. My job, if I get one, will have to have a few safety measures, and little else, but I've got to remember to take those meds. Other things would be an updated dogtag 'round my neck, and continuous PT going a few days every week.
I will continue though to learn Spanish, and get tested (epilepsy-wise) later, and continue to update my wardrobe as I can. Nearly every shirt has a hole of some sort in it somwhere having been around for nearly 10 years. So much to do, so little wampum. Alas, the life and responsibilities of a high-school graduate.

Patience

I never knew getting on a jobs program was this tough. First, we get put off by the job agency for over six months, and only when I (+ my mom) threaten to do something about it do I see results in the mail in the form of forms. Job forms to be exact. But wait, there's more! Other parts had (have) to come together. It's more like hurry up and wait more than anything. See, my forms are special in how all the doctors and neurologists I have to fax it to, and then it is finally processed from my end back into the people at the jobs program. All in all, it takes, let's see, how much time is that; Carry the one, multiply the six, oh yeah! They're not done yet! *Restraining Patience* I'll have to keep hold of whatever insanity I've got left, because that's the only thing that's kept me going down here, well, that and Jesus, who has been with me day through day. He's been my rock and Savior, and I profess Him to be the absolutely perfect Lord of Life, and I highly reccommend Him to you too!

Western Wonders

Aaron Copland once wrote a classical music work in four pieces about the rodeo. Too bad he he ain't in charge of music no more. Just kidding. I believe it was Wednesday last we found ourselves at Reliant Stadium again. Never had I been to a rodeo before, and the stadium was the show only. You know the buildings that contained the car show a few weeks earlier? That was converted into makeshift mini- stables almost as far as the eye could see for calfs, lambs, sheep, the odd-llama like critter or two, and definitely steer plus cattle. It was kind of an understatement to call that area "crowded." But that's beside the point. That's what Texas is famous for: rodeos, and I'd never seen one; until now. Figure on it's taking me 18 years to see me get to my first rodeo and official rodeo fair, so allow me to cross that off my list.
On the way up the steps in said stadium, I was a handed a list of the series of events that were going to happen that night. Not knowing what was going to occur, but just trying to get out and stretch my legs, and went on my merry way.
The show had already started by about five minutes by the time we found our seats. There were many events: such as double roping, barrell racing, bronco busting etc. along with some of the shows in the breaks: wagon racing, lamb-tying, and for the mini- me's among us, lamb-busting. It all ended with a country western concert. Our threesome went outside to the carnival, and boy, did it look like Six Flags Arlington, only smaller, but it was pretty long, I'll give it that. The whole thing ran around both the now defunct Astrodome, and the Reliant Center. After we had walked ALL the way around it, we went back in the aforementioned buildings where they supposedly kept the livestock, only to be kept at the doors, for it was feeding time for the critters by then. By then, 10 pm , everyone was heading into the sunset (figure of speech)so we'd figure we would too. It would've been great to have seen the animals, but it wasn't a requirement. I got out of the house, and they got dinner, so we both won that night. You know, I'm getting to know the area around the Reliant Center pretty well. What do you think that one day I'll find my way down there sleepwalking? Now that would be a story worth a' tellin!

Mission Possible

There I am, a week ago with the crew as an Ascociate Advisor, in one of my first official roles in said job. Our outing was simply an overdue birthday party for one one of our founding members (a young lady).
I happened to arrive downtown a little early, so I waited outside the fancy chinese restaunt we were supposed to rondevous at. As it was an unnaturally cold and blustery evening, it didn't take long for me to take cover in the restaurant. I gave it 10-15 minutes of waiting before I got to wondering about whether I had arrived late. Turns out my problems were unjustified. Next thing I knew, my fellow advisor (who knew a bit more about the event than I did) tapped me on the back, and asked the store director where the party for the group was being held. Being closer to that person could've helped, but you do what you can. Turns out, some more of the people from this girl's history past and present turned up as 20 years of history fell from those tables, and time was spent with each guest by the star of the show. All too soon, it was time to pack up, pick up, and move down the road for ice cream, hot chocolate, and brownies. It was about 9:30p when they decided to go to the Barnes& Nobles in the Mall, but I was tired and didn't want to push my success with the seizures, now that I've finally got something going here, seizure-med wise. So I had my dad come pick me up. One of my several missions at this point in my life is to re-gain the confidence needed to begin going out again that I have lost in the three years I've been here. And when I mean here, I mean this house for the most part, but things are starting to look up.

CPUseless

So I tried something new. I tried something outside my comfort zone. I tried to download and burn some dvd's off a website. Eventually, I was successfull in downloading a movie and a few tv episodes, and then it happened... My computer contracted a virus, or several of them, and then my middle bro had to throw me a lifeline by reloading my OS on my computer (or something like that.) Then, being true to my curiosity and tenacity, proceeded to download a few more episodes of that tv series. Apparently, it came at a high cost. My computer contracted what's termed as a "Trojan" virus, which means you have to take your computer apart from the inside out and totally reprogram it.
With help from my dad, (as he had patience with me) we got my computer running again.
My brothers make it look so easy with anything car or computer related, and yet, there is such a wide gap between us in knowledge and skill on the computer. My youngest brother has little patience and would prefer to write down notes for me, and expects me to know everything he knows whereas I need repitition actually doing the subject in question. My middle brother can help me on my level, that is, unless, he's got his mind on other things, but I'm learning. In a family where more than 1/2 the members know the computer backwards, forwards, and out the window, it doesn't pay to be ignorant of them. I just want to be dangerous, and I proved that. Just look at my accomplishments so far: let's see, downloaded two viruses, and one trojan. The only compu-smart thing I ever did was download a backup program before the whole sucker went down. It saved everything. I guess I didn't do so badly after all. GUESS WHO HAD THE LAST LAUGH!!!

P.S. To the ladies or gentlemen who create downloadable movies with viruses in them: Can't you find better things to do with your time? If you don't want your movies viewed, don't post them.

Ladybug, Fly On Home

""What we've got here...is failure to communicate." Yes, that might sound familiar to you, but it neatly sums up the troubles I've been having with my tenants. Yes, I said MY tenants. Turns out said renters are 9-10 ladybugs that were all huddled up in a corner in my room. As long as it was cold (for Houston, anyway) they behaved themselves, which has been for about two months now. Suddenly, they start going about six-ways from nowhere, culminating in me dabbling in the catch-and-release business, yesterday. Did you ever try to catch a ladybug? It's harder than it looks, and the tougher job is keeping it in the can. Plus, I had a coupla' more customers waiting for me downstairs by the back door. How they got up to my second-story room I'll never know. My mom is attacked by these insects nigh on every night as she uses a fluorescent lamp to do her quilling by at a table every night in the family room. I'm beginning to think it's the light and some signal that's emitting from same that's interfereing with the ladybug's headset and instrumentation; kind of like a bug zapper of sorts. Well, I was determined on getting all of those bugs outta there alive, so I got my tools: A flyswatter, and a coffee can. Like I said, capturing them is only half the battle, the harder half is keeping them contained. You can pretty much imagine that with 13-14 ladybugs, that was a lot of trips out my back door. The survivors were the ones that flew away to get caught another day. Usually, catch and release is for fish, but I take it to a Higher level; Try ladybug rescue.