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.

SMILE

You know what gave me a big smile recently? All of your comments on my previous post (New Computer) which indicated that you appreciated my sense of humor.
Some of you said "I laughed 'till I cried."
That made my day.

This past year or so, I've been so severely depressed that my sense of humor seemed to abandon me. Yet it suddenly returns at the most unexpected times. And quite often it saves my life.

WARNING:
If you can't handle my complaints, please leave the room now. I wouldn't want to disturb your delicate metabolism.

For the past week I've been in agonizing pain due to my old spinal injury that never healed properly. This sometimes causes my left hip to become inflamed and the pain is almost unendurable. Every step I take is excruciating. I couldn't bend down. Laying in bed only seemed to make it worse.

You should have seen me trying to clean the two cat's litter boxes. I dropped Bosco's box on the bathroom floor . Fresh cat crap and stale litter was everywhere.
I tried to maneuver myself down to the floor. I managed to collapse completely.The pain in my hip and leg was so bad that there was no possible way I could move or get up.

So I'm helplessly trapped in the midst of fresh cat crap and piles of rancid pee-drenched litter. My cell phone was far away. If I screamed, only the coyotes would hear me.

And I'm thinking:
If there is a God, I'll bet He's laughing his ass off at me.

In a Herculean effort (not to mention piercing pain) I eventually managed to crawl on my belly - out of the bathroom and across the bedroom floor. I grasped the side of the bed and somehow pulled myself up.

No need to lament. I'm finally walking again and the bathroom floor is reasonably clean.
Truth to tell, my spine and hip are the very least of my problems.

There. That complaint wasn't so bad, was it?
If I do say so myself, I can't think of another blogger who complains with more panache than I do. It's a gift.

Is this another holiday weekend?
Memorial Day is the unofficial start of summer.
Mother Nature seems confused.
Two days ago it was sunny and 85 degrees.
Today it was pouring rain. Tomorrow the daytime high is supposed to be 53. Feels kinda like autumn.

I thought my old El Cheapo digital camera was broken - because every time I took a picture the photo would come out half blurry.
Then I suddenly had a rational thought:
Jon, you haven't cleaned the lens in over ten years. That might be the trouble.

It was the trouble. I cleaned the lens. The camera is working again.

My uninteresting photos have clarity again.

Remember the nearby mountain (or hill) that is only visible during the winter?

Here it is now - completely obscured by leaves.

A glimpse of my remarkable front "yard"

 

Another view of the front yard. Over yonder is the neighboring cow meadow.

I (finally) moved the new computer into my bedroom.
 

Kitzee sleeping. Lazy afternoon.
I had this photo on a recent post, but deleted the post. So I figured I'd include it here, because I like it.
 

STORMY

 Photos by Jon

I won't mention the unrelenting agony that I went through with my back recently. For four days I couldn't walk or even stand. The pain was so excruciating that I thought I'd have to call an ambulance.

I won't mention the boring details. It's a herniated disc compounded by several spinal fractures that never healed properly. I keep re-injuring old injuries. Over and over and over.....

I finally gritted my teeth, tried to get some much-needed rest, and said "The hell with everything." (I was MUCH more graphic than that, but I'm giving you the Disney version).

Yesterday I was finally able to stand on my feet and walk - not without difficulty, and not without the help of a makeshift cane and some frighteningly out-dated aspirin.

I don't like to complain. I'm not a sissy. Whining and bitching is extremely unbecoming. I clumsily plod onward-  - between frequent curses and sheer determination - knowing that if I ever drop dead out here, no one would find my body for a dozen years. At least.

But no need to worry, boys and girls. I'm here to talk about stormy weather. Several severe storms swept through the Tennessee boonies late yesterday afternoon and early evening.

Despite being crippled and unrelentingly despondent, I grabbed my El Cheapo camera and hobbled outside to document the excitement.

The following photos were taken by me on Wednesday (which, I'm assuming, was yesterday).

Actually, the day began beautifully and the sun made a rare morning appearance.

 A few of the trees are blossoming, but the wildly fluctuating temperatures haven't been helpful. It's 80 degrees one day and 40 the next. More frost is predicted tomorrow night.

 By late afternoon we were under a Tornado Watch and clouds were gathering (this is the view from the front porch).

 There was a tornadic storm to the west and it got extremely dark. Soon the first storm arrived with a torrential downpour and fierce winds.

 The first storm ended with an eerie glimpse of sun rays.

The second storm, just before sunset, was much more dramatic and beautiful. These photos don't do it justice.

 I hobbled out the back door and climbed up the steep embankment at the edge of the forest to take these pics. There was lots of lightning.

Overlooking my house.

 This looks similar to my header photo. It's a view of the same trees that were blossoming in the photos I took in the morning.

The temperature has dropped drastically (again) and today (Thursday) is raining, windy, and freezing.

I just deleted a few photos because there were too many.

BLOSSOMS AND BROADCASTS

Persistent frosts shocked the blossoms, made them reconsider their early appearance, and finally eradicated them forever. All the pink and purple blossoms shriveled and died.

A few brave white blossoms (nothing racist here) battled the harsh elements and survived. I ventured outside today and did some photographic documentation - just to confirm the fact that spring exists.

White blossoms, plenty of weeds, and a surplus of dandelions or - as Bert Lahr would say - Dandy Lions!

And warmer temperatures! It hit 70 degrees today (that's Fahrenheit, for those of you in Outer Mongolia).

Me? I'm hanging on by a thin thread. The shrieks you heard this morning were my own - - as I tried to pry myself out of bed with agonizing back pain. Ruptured disk, sciatica, fractured spine. Whatever. I shrieked and stumbled. And crawled. While the cats watched in dismay. And probable amusement.

I know - never begin a sentence with a conjunction. Hey, give me some slack - - I'm on a roll. And I'm still able to maintain a semblance of humor despite the pain. That's talent.
Or insanity.

Broadcasts?
Have you ever tried to listen to the radio in rural Tennessee? I no longer have TV (thank Gawd), so radio is my only link to the outside world.

Here in the mountains I get....
static.......and more static......
sandwiched between Gospel hymns.....and Hillbilly music.
Bible thumping and clog dancing. That's it.

Before ruffling your feathers, let me say (in innocent defense) that I have nothing against religion. I'm all for it. I just think that perhaps 150 gospel stations in a row with no alternatives is a bit too much.  
Praise the Lord!

But, there is salvation for my corrupt soul. I only live about five miles from Kentucky and I've discovered a classical music station from the University of Kentucky. Rarer than hen's teeth. Late at night it comes in clear.
What could be better than spending the night in bed with Shostakovich?

Don't answer that.

Before I depart (not literally), here's another radio thing that irks me:

In a peculiar attempt to brighten the mornings, one local radio station spends about an hour reading the obituaries. I kid you not.
Hell, there must be more deaths here than in the Golan Heights.

Not only are the obituaries read - all of the surviving relatives are listed. And I mean all.

Granny Gerty Mae is survived by her first husband Walter Lee Clumpant, her third husband Buster Breeton Mae , 

her fifteen children - - Edna Doisey Mae, Lucy Doozey Mae, Jenny Deen Mae, Bobbie Bart Mae, Billy Bob Mae, Horatio Leighorn Mae, Fanny Lyn Kneewart, Buster Bubba Mae, Molly Doolittle Dunlap, Minnie Sue Matterson, Ernie Clyde Mae, Jimmy John Mae, Frieda June Humpmyer, and Homer Smith Clumpant,

and fifty-seven grandchildren

thirty-two great-grandchildren

and fourteen great-great-grandchildren

and four hundred and ninety-six assorted siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and unaccounted distant relatives.

Donations for the funeral can be sent to the Praise Our Lord for Moonshine Baptist Church.

Aren't you glad you read my blog? You couldn't find this kind of entertainment elsewhere.

While you're at it, check out my other blog:

Cabinet of Curious Treasures