ANOTHER....BIRTHDAY

 

Without a doubt, this is absolutely the worst birthday of my life - - - and, believe me, I've had plenty of rotten ones.

No reason to celebrate for being a year older. How old am I? Older than lost centuries long ago.....I had one helluva existence.

Ironically

Over two years ago in July, 2023, the doctors in Centennial Medical Center in Nashville, told me there was no hope at all. I was sent back to Cookeville Medical Center.

Honestly, I was so sick at that time - with cancer and heart trouble - that I didn't care.

Should I have lived just to go through the pain and suffering I have now?

Life is an extremely complex journey. That's the nicest thing I can say about it......

I've been in at least four hospitals and one...(cursed)  nursing home. Now two.

I'm like a wandering gypsy. The only difference is that gypsies are free. I am completely restricted and restrained, like a prisoner.

I'm rambling, as usual. Saying too much. It's my style....it's all I have left.

So, what am I'm doing now? I'm stalling, not wanting to mention it.

My insurance is running low. I was literally thrown out of Cookeville, after two weeks and two days.

The only place left where I could be dumped without insurance problems was the unheard of Waters Nursing Home located in unheard of tiny Gainesboro, TN.

Looks great on the Website photos. Looks like a comdemned prison from the Civil War in real.

I was horrified when they wheeled me through the filthy time-worn front doors. Everything inside is cramped, dirty, archaic, and overcrowded. The "residents" here look like they're cast off extras from the movie "Freaks" (the 1932 film directed by bizarre Tod Browning - - look it up).

So, how bad is this place? It makes Signature Health Care in Jamestown look like the Ritz.

They stuffed me into a small cramped room, with a roommate two feet away (but we're divided by a curtain. I'm by the window).

They already wanted to move me to a different room but I refused.

Everything is chaotic, no regular schedules, the workers quarrel constantly, some of the nurses are tough and nasty. But there are some nice workers.

The food is appalling. The meals are small and haphazard. Everything mashed together with no thought. And they are mystery meals. I can't discern what's on the plate.

Yesterday they ran out of food and coffee for breakfast. They gave us horrid scrambled eggs, a stale roll, and warm apple juice.

I survived a helluva lot of unspeakable things in my time. Can I survive this?

I'm getting mentally and physically weaker. How will I be able to tackle physical therapy when I'm too weak to move?

Endure what I can. Make the best of it. Try try try.....heck, battling agony is my specialty.

I'm tired of writing. It's 5:00 a.m. and I didn't sleep. This bed is uncomfortable.

Suddenly, I feel a year older.

Jon  💚

Wolves, howling at the moon.

LOST (revised)

Saturday the 13th is my birthday. I'll spend the day  in anguish and agony - - - and enduring self-inflicted imaginary wounds.

Updates? None.   Jon

Remembering all those who passed away in December.....  💜

My Mother

My Aunt Ann (my mother's sister, they died on the same date)

My cousin Carol V. Perry

My Uncle Frank V. ( age 91 )

Myra's Father

Rj's Grandmother

George G.

W.G.H. my greatest love

many others

MOVED AGAIN

I'm so completely ravaged - mentally and physically - that I don't want to update. I can no longer think clearly. And I don't care.

This afternoon I was rudely extracted from my hospital bed and transferred to an ambulance. I was curtly told I'm moving to Gainesboro, TN.

An agonizing ride, I was in incredible pain.

So here I am at Waters Nursing Home to get more physical therapy. It's impossibility. My knees won't bend, my lower legs are partially paralyzed.

Waters is an absolute dump. Small, ugly, dirty, vastly over- crowded. Nasty nurses. I'm in a tiny airless room with an ancient roommate in a bed two feet from me.

Don't bother to pray. I'm praying for death. Death. I don't want therapy. Don't want to go home. I want to be taken from this vile, demented, insane, hellish shit ass bitch of a world.

You can keep it.

I've had definitely enough. I want permanent escape.

Don't bother to pray. I prayed my goddamn ass off and things got worse. Forget me...and go to your Merry Christmas antics. Merry, Merry, Merry

there's nothing Merry on my agenda

A insanely commercialized pagan holiday. Even the Catholic Encyclopedia admits Jesus wasn't born in December.

There. Now everybody will hate me.

Truth tellers are always hated.

If you pray for anything, pray for me to die. Please grant me my fervent wish.

Jon

IN MEMORY DECEMBER 7TH

 

In memory of my mother

Marie Knoll Varga

Born in New Brunswick, New Jersey, died in Brownfield, Texas - December 7, 2009.

She was a brilliant, extraordinary woman - who was often my savior.

She was my anchor in a sea of chaos.

Always guiding me in the right direction.

My very favorite photo, taken in Red River, New Mexico - before she was married. She lived with relatives who owned a resort there high in the mountains. The happiest years of her life.

She was a superb horsewoman, and often went riding up far above timberline.

Later with my father John, before they were married. Photo taken in Atlantic City, NJ.

White shoes?

I've previously shown all these photos, but I want to share them again. She always looked fantastic.

Wearing a genuine Miss Universe dress, previously owned by one of my glamorous showbiz cousins.

Once she dyed her hair chestnut brown, just to look different. BTW, She was an extraordinary pianist and my first music teacher.

This is typical of how she often looked.

Gypsy attire (I took this candid, unexpected photo)

In Reno, Nevada

One of my favorites. I was 20, she was 45.

I was truly blessed having such a special mother. 

I miss her immensely.

Jon, sustained with memories