THE INSANITY CONTINUES

 

It's Palm Sunday. I no longer keep track of these things. Long ago I used to love Easter week.

Now, the grim ruthlessness of my endless medical confinement has completely robbed me of every semblance of reality. There are no seasons here, nor any weeks or days. Continuous confinement expunges everything.

Updates?

I'll try to inform you. I honestly know as little about my situation as you do.

It's all an enigma - - - ironically as myself.

My right arm is very sore, it's annoying (agony, really) to type. Remember the cancerous "wound" on my arm.....the one that bled and hemorrhaged for months? Radiation treatments stopped the bleeding.

The wound, which was healing nicely, has suddenly enlarged....and is bleeding again, but not much. And a new lump has emerged very near the wound.

I have an appointment with my oncologist in Cookeville on Friday the 3rd.

I'm too exhausted to care.

Remember Ronald, my new deranged one legged roommate? He got worse last night.

Our beds are two damn close. The curtains that "seperate" us seem to annoy him. He keeps opening them (I can't reach them).

A photo of his bed from my bed

He is able to sit on the edge of his bed and open the curtains. Annoying, of course, but I simply got used to it. I ignored him.

Late last night (Saturday) he started to freak out. He started to call me Bill.

"Bill! Bill, you gotta wake up! They're coming for us!"

I informed him I'm not Bill. I tried to sleep.

SUDDENLY

(I used capitals to maintain your interest)

he was at the side of my bed, grabbing my arm, demanding he wanted his radio!

Holy Shee-it! How did this one legged psycho get to my bed???

He kept saying he wants his radio, and I had it for sixteen minutes!

(I swear to God, that's what he said).

He tried to take my cell phone, but I pried it from him.

Then, he grabbed the control box for my bed, thinking it was his radio. And he got my call button!

This isn't a good pic, but that's the remote box to control my bed. The long white thing is my call button.

I had to struggle with him to get the remote box and the call button.

He was on the floor. I tried to calm him down. I asked if he was hurt. I told him I'd get someone to help him.

I pressed the call button multiple times.....knowing damn well that I was getting help for myself.

Two very hefty female workers came quickly. The biggest, toughest one grabbed Ronald and literally slammed him into his bed!

I felt the "ouch".

This is getting too long.

They moved my bed out of reach from Ronald (like they did on the first night when he harrassed me).

Now I'm inches from the window, blocking the cabinets, and I can't reach my duffle bag - - which contains EVERYTHING I need.

More photos to enthrall you and make this blog post even more intriguing than my fantastic writing.

 

I'm inches from the window

I'm a few feet away from Ronald

I'm blocking the cabinets, and my duffle bag is under that pillow

Is this a happy ending? Hell, no!! I don't feel safe at all. Who knows what kind of mental problems Ronald had before he came here. Is he dangerous? Holy crap, Heaven knows I don't need any more problems.

I had planned to write about other subjects.

What about my transfer to Jamestown???

I haven't heard anything....but I'm going to inform my Signature Health Care social worker about this incident. I want it to be on record.

Thanks for reading this. I love all of you. ❤️

Jon, courageously battling deranged roommates