Chihuahua Pt 2

The Jones Rescue Ranger Dog Service has done it once again, folks! We found the owners off of the mailbox ad he put up, and delivery was quick. If you ever need with your stray, the Jones family attracts them like a magnet, and ads are answered without thought of recompense, you've found the JR2DS

Chihuahua Pt 1

I didn't know that we're in the dog catch and release program. There was that retriever last summer and the Scottie before him. But this beats all! An actual albino Chihuahua shows up at dad's feet in the garage.
   Angel is not pleased about this. There can be only one "Prima Dogma," and that is she. She will not give our aged guest a chance, and does the Wildcat over her.
   Our guest does not come without weapons of her own: Claws, and teeth.
   The difference between them is half breed and age plus time on the streets. She's not even wearing a collar.
   Cody (Young German Shepard) will be thrilled with a new friend to chomp on.r

TIRR Strength Unlimited

   The TIRR Strength Unlimited starts for me today. I'm used to the facilities and staff and they're used to me. It's an extension of physical therapy, and it's scheduled for after hours.

   I've been saving up for a special bike, as well. Two in the front and one in the rear. Honestly, I've got to learn how to ride a bike again!

TIRR Sugar Land

   Therapy is over! Well, mostly. OT, and PT are over. Now just getting past ST. Now for those who haven't spent close to half their lifetime with seizures, and other injuries, OT means Occupational Therapy, and Physical Therapy makes up PT. Beena, and Bianca were in charge of those, respectively. ST (Speech Therapy) my job is never done. Meredith, my therapist won't let me go without finishing my goal sheet. Of course today, July 31, is her BD. I won't mention how young she is, but she isn't much older than I.

   I started, what was it, in June. Let me recommend TIRR Sugar Land for complete therapy. They're a new group, made up of former TIRR Hospital, and Kirby Glen employees in Houston who lived in Sugar Land, and Rosenburg etc...and wanted to live closer to home.

   Thank you whoever made that decision! It was such a long drive down to Kirby Glen for us on the West side of town. We wanted what KG had, only in SL. Once I needed it, TSL really made a difference. Thanks.  

                                                              A Repeat Customer,

                                                                     Ben Jones

Radiation Is The Culprit

    Finally! Finally! Yes! Yes!  It's the radiation after all!! After 13 1/2 years, 20,600 seizures, and one stroke later, I finally find out what causes my problems.
    See, the radiation presses down on the optic nerve, so much so that over the years I've eventually lost my balance. Sure, I have a cane and a walker, but the damage is irreversible.
   There is some high-filutan term that I will pass on to you later once I get a hold of it!
   Though, who knew that six weeks of radiation would have come back to bite me in the derrière.
   The blood vessels are narrowing, and every-time I have a seizure, another part of brain goes dark.

Stranger In A Very Strange Land (Day 3) Saturday

  Yeah, I know. It's been a month to the day since I last posted (Mea Culpa) uh, my fault in Latin. Anywho, on with the story...

   (According to my Voice-Recorder)


   My mom was on time for the meet this morning, and dad escorted her to it while I was just finishing my McMuffin. When dad came back, I started my shower minus the seat because the seat had no back and yesterday, tossed me twice out of the bathtub, and onto the floor, into the toilet. Wound up wrenching my back out of place. I'm afraid it was permanent.
   Despite my wanderings, we got a good start, left the hotel on time, and around 25 minutes later, we reached the WW2 Museum.  After a parking snafu, we were off for history. Our first clue was an Army jeep with a live crew with a tent.
   The place was made up three or more buildings with more to be built in later years.
   Speaking of buildings, we entered the farthest one, and I was surprised and delighted to see hanging from the ceiling: SBD Dauntless, P-51 Mustang, F-4U Corsair, B-17 Bomber, and a B-25 Mitchell. On the floor were an Army truck, and a jeep towing what looks like a General's mini-office.
    Dad bought two tickets to a 4D show. I was unaware of such a thing. Could it be possible? And how?    So we started making our way to the movie building. I heard in my head my mom's voice saying that when a car purposely speeds around you and arrive at the same red light... yeah, I wish we could do that. 10-15 minutes later we finally got in, and yet, there was something amiss with the screen. I believe it was eight square rectangles. Most times there were doubles on the screen about how the war started before we entered. For December 7th, there was a whole new theatre awaiting us.
   We were ushered into what looked like a cinema, and boy, was I wrong. This 4D had Zeros flying right at you at Pearl Harbor, German flak flying at you as you flew B-17 Bomber into the Richeland to deliver a load of bombs. There was even a real half-cockpit descended from the ceiling to add to the effect. The snow in the Ardenns Forest, in Belgium seemed to fall in our seats. To this day, I do not know whether or not I got snowed on. Believe me, folks, you gotta see this show for yourselves! And the best thing of all, you didn't have to wear those silly glasses.
   When we got done with the movie, we tried out the diner at the end of the building. It was in 1950's deco and a classy joint with a theme name and locations in different   cities. I got to set at an actual bar with an actual 90 degree angle and a vertical  side to the bar. The waiters actually wore mini-tuxes, and the service was quick. It was quite an experience!
   After that, we returned to the original building and bought tickets to the U.S.S Tang exhibit. Seeing that we were ahead of the game, we looked around in the museum gift shops. Only looking, not buying, searching for something rather well, unique. I'd know it when I saw it. 10-15 minutes later, the program started. "The Last Mission of the U.S.S. Tang." It took a certain amount of people for the program to work, and that's why they handed out cards to us in order to familiarize us with the actual officer or crew member of the ill-fated submarine. Once we did that, we entered what looked to be a fake sub conning tower into the bridge. We parted ways to our different stations, #10 was my number. I believe that would be Henry Flannigan. I misplaced my card, but I remembered just before I lost it, that the last name was Irish. There were no survivors, but nine. I was leveled at the loss, my dad was okay with it, but I for one, will never forget it.
    Next up, were the ever higher levels of airplanes, four to be exact. On the level with with the B-17; B-25's were on the very top floor, looking down on the F-4U Corsair just about 20 feet down.
   We made tracks for another building where there were more exhibits from American motorcycles, to a DUKW, a vehicle that could do land or water (Think "Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull") when the teen was fencing with the older lady. They were standing on DUKWs. An LCVP "Landing Craft, Vehicle, and Personnel Carrier (Used en masse to get the troops ashore during the assault on Normandy) were on display, too. A British Spitfire, the equivalent of a an American P-51 Mustang, the plane in the original building, was on display overhead.
   So why did the WW 2 museum get put here in New Orleans? Eisenhower put museum here for all the machinery that rolled out of the city
    Also for viewing and learning purposes, was the Pullman train passenger cars at the back of the room on real tracks. The videos in the back seat of each chair chronicled the way young men went to war, on trains.
    The higher we climbed, we kept on finding new exhibits, like the German view on Normandy from their bunkers and pillboxes. And a German phrase on the wall, "Kein Licht bei geöffneter Scharte," meaning, "No light at the open notch," whatever that means. Seems to make sense though.
  We went up to the fourth and final level where a Waco CG-4A glider from the Normandy Invasion awaited us. These would swoop down from the B-29 bombers, the C-5 Galaxies of today, and deliver the troops behind enemy lines.
  By then, my feet were beginning to hurt (Out of shape, I'm afraid,) but were nearly done with THAT building. The rest were just exhibits and tangible items, although we went through that part anyway.
    In the gun display,  the Grease Gun, hand grenades, M1 Garandes, bazookas plus ammo etc... were definitely worth the look.The cypher machine alone was gold itself.
   We wiled away the hours at the museum, until 1600 (4:00p) until we found out that we were late for mom's special dinner at the hotel. See, mom's friends were throwing a special dinner for their last night together, and the rest of the family members were invited.
  As mom's quilling folk took down their displays, they made room for dinner. The hotel staff catered the meal, then came the awards show. Ah, the awards show. People, laughter. I shine! They needed a few good runners to take the awards to the people. Guess who joined? Something sure punched my funny button. I actually like getting up in front of crowds, and improvisation is my middle name. One table got so many awards that that I could almost swear it groaning under the weight of those prizes, and yes, I would have embarrassed my brothers. I acted my wage, and not my age, since I skipped my immaturity lesson. I could be a future Jay Leno.
   Afterwards, dad bought another night at the hotel, which would be Sunday. Meanwhile, I sat in a extra-comfy chair out in the lobby while mom continued to talk to her friends, which, in my opinion, was long overdue.
   When I returned to the room, we were all more than a bit bushed so we dropped off to sleep pretty quickly.

 

Strangers In A Very Strange Land (Day 2) Friday

   According To My Voice-recorder)

   We awoke from a very deep sleep, about tennish maybe? Mom was aware of the error and rushed through breakfast (Dad went out and got McDoodles for breakfast, whose clown, by the way, my mom helped to design.) Mom got to the exhibit hall where we set up last night, and that's the last I saw of her.
   Fast forward to the outside of the hotel. The planes were still landing a mile away, roaring overhead every eight minutes.
   So, I find out I'm going to downtown New Orleans, well, not really downtown, but the French Quarter.
   We arrive at the South Gate (Basin St. Station) to what looked like an old trolley system, but it had been replaced by a tour bus. In fact much of New Orleans revenue consists of tourism. We bought tickets inside and had a look around. It's not every day you get to see the inside of an antique train/trolley station.
   We boarded a double-decker bus, and yes, you read that correctly, a double-decker bus. My dad and I were on a guided tour over the Bowl City. I was taking pictures left, right, and almost through the window. After making most of the stops on the bus, we made a stop in the French Quarter for lunch. We passed the original site. for filming NCIS New Orleans, and wound up at the original Café du Mondé the place to go for French donuts, (translated, "beignets,") but I suggested that we not do sweets for lunch. We walked down Bourbon Street to the The Creole Shop where I had a mixed platter of seafood, rice, and gumbo. I was having a problem with my walker (Later I learned that I was chasing it and all I needed was a cane.
    I needed some time to digest, and all they had to eat down there were different types of gumbo. There's nothing different. It's just how hot you want it.
   So we continued our sightseeing trip on foot. I was going too fast to keep up with my walker, and not slowing down to really appreciate the sights. Dad was consistently  remind me to come to a more leisurely pace. All it did was frustrate me. This continued to build as we tried to come full circle to the South Gate. I was taking the wrong way off of intersections. You see, New Orleans is not built for the disabled. They do not even have countdown numbers on sidewalks at intersections. I did not know on which light to cross. So when I tried to go left at an intersection, I was supposed to go 90 degrees to the right, but my destination lay 180 degrees.That's straight ahead, folks. So I'm mad from chasing my walker and dad constantly on my case. So, we're on the West side of the South Side Station when I finally unleashed on my dad who, it turns out, was an innocent victim of four wheels. He was just trying to show me around the French Quarter.
    Once inside the station we went over to the store, bought some drinks, sat down and  cooled off. Dad took my walker back to the car, and I finished cooling down. Then it was off to see the above ground cemetery. It was the same one the tour bus passed on the way round robin. The reason they bury their dead above ground was because if they buried them six feet under, they would really be six feet under! Apparently, they stack the bodies on top of each other. When we got to the cemetery, it was closed, but  when did that ever get between me and a photo?! I know, that's sick.
   We were on our way back to the hotel and mom who was supposed to finish her exposé at five p.m.
   I got back to the room and collapsed for twenty minutes. Dad was just concerned about getting mom out of the exhibition hall and getting her something to eat. So finally, at about twilight, we all got together in the main lobby of the hotel and entered the adjoining restaurant, "The Landing. " it was quiet for the rest of the night and an early evening.

Stay tuned for Pt. 3, when I go to the WW2 Museum!