A TIMID SMUDGE OF DAWN

I'm in a wheelchair in the living room where I spent the night. Sunday night. One of the most uncomfortable, miserable nights I can remember. And, believe me, I've had plenty.

This is the deep, dark void that lingers just before dawn  - hesitant to leave. Far beyond the murky abyss the old Tennessee hills have assumed a slight rosy glow right at their peak. A timid smudge of light that promises an awakening.

Dawn is arriving, ready to bathe the earth in glaring light, exposing all the brutal raw realities that are suppressed in the fantasy of our dreams.

I'm dreading dawn, which forces us to rudely face all the complications and complexities that immerse us and devour our existence.

That's how I feel. An unwholesome surge of unrelenting pessimism.

Physically I'm in more agonizing pain than I could ever describe. The deceptive meds wear off, leaving untold echoes of screams.

I'm welded to the wheelchair. Unable to stand up from unbearable pain. Unable to reach for things with my arms. Unable to move my legs. The surging pain in my hip leg knees joints back......ass.

The pain has rendered me completely disabled. I can't stand....absolutely cannot walk. I tried to shuffle a few inches last night and almost cried in agony.

I can't get water or food. Can't turn lights on or get a blanket. I managed to recharge my two cell phones. I sure as hell will need them.

After my cursed illness in 2023, I managed to navigate remarkably well with a walker. All I needed it for was balance. I could cook, clean, wash, manuever everywhere.

Never thought this would happen. Degenerative disk disease. Severe sciatica. Scoliosis due to spinal injuries.

But the intense pain........ Tylenol doesn't do a damn good. I'd have to consume the whole bottle. If I could get the fricking child-proof cap off.

So, early Monday I called the Home Care office to see if anyone could take my prescription to the pharmacy. One of the nurses came here and got the prescription. Another nurse will bring the meds to me tomorrow. Tuesday.

Another night of pure agony in the wheelchair in the livingroom awaits me.

If I make it. If I survive.

And the gawd almighty truth is that I don't give a flying fig whether I survive or not. I'm done. Finished. Stick a fork in me.

I'm tired of feigning optimism, hoping that birdies, unicorns, and rainbows are smiling on the horizon.

At this moment, I dread the light of dawn.

I realize that we all have our own problems, our private crosses to bear. I'm nothing special. Just someone bitching on a blog.....

Jon, frustrated beyond belief.