Okay, firstly the trip to North Carolina went very well. Spent about a week down there helping my Dad out and boy oh boy did I earn my keep. Dad is putting on some years so I was able to physically do somethings that he hadn't been able to buck up for, enter your oldest son. Even with my injuries I was able to be sufficient for so many things it was a God send that I had that opportunity. To challenge myself physically, with my Dad, and mentally, with my many many nieces and nephews. I will be thanking God for the opportunity for a very long time.
On to today:
My day started bright and early, like usual but with a sad difference. My Krempels member friend, Brie Louise Bourn, has been staying up here in Somersworth with a friend for the past week. Given that I liked her, I have made myself available to supporting her activities. (Unwisely so.) She texted me this morning about her father being injured and needing to go home, so home I took her.
After we spent sometime at her home we were heading to the Krempels Center, which I needed because I hadn't gotten breakfast and it was past lunch, when I was rear ended. Nothing major thank you but the gist of the accident is this: I was the first car at the light in my lane. Three lanes mind you. Next to me, in the middle lane, was an eighteen wheeler so I did what an old military driver does, I did not slam my accelerator down when the light changed. After all, the front of a truck is a very big barrel of a loaded gun, who wants to trust that fate won't pull the big trigger? However, seeing some cars move the woman behind me shifted her foot to the accelerator and slammed into the back of me.
The emotional distress caused me to PTSD. I immediately became a motorpool Sergeant. I slammed the car into park, engaged the parking brake, and hopped out of the car screaming at my passenger "Are you okay?" When I got a positive response I looked at the driver of the other vehicle and asked her the same question. After receiving a positive response I reached into my side bag, pulled out my camera and took pictures (in this order) of her front end with license plate, the driver, and then a long angle shot of her back license plate with her car connecting to mine. Then I got wobbly from the stress.
The driver of the impacting vehicle started treating my like I was panto-mining. Her incredulity reached it's maximum when I slowly wobbled to my knees. Little did the driver realize that she had hit a car with 2 brain injured victims in it. The driver, which was me, and the passenger Bumble Brie. I asked passerby drivers, from my hands & knees, to please call an ambulance as I could feel a seizure about to take me. Thinking of calling the police I took my own phone and dialed 911. The cohesive questions from the operator helped me to calm my thoughts and regain stability.
All in all, the damage was a small scratch that I thanked the offender for. ??? With that scratch my car looks more like a Hoop-D than before. I bought that car brand new in 2004. It is paid off, completely, but not even the radio has been replaced. You would have to pay a chop shop to take my car apart! So, ironically, this accident was in my favor. In two distinct ways... ....
Firstly, it is not likely to be stolen. A sleeper car it is as the engine and underneath components are top notch. Taken cared of by a combat veteran motorpool Sergeant. I don't turn wrenches but I get the wrench turned when they need turning! Secondly, proof of how much distress I can endure without passing out!
So there I was, afterwards, at the Community First Center eating lunch when the Social Security adviser called to discuss my submitted claim. I immediately reiterated my point, "I am not looking for financial assistance! I just want the Gov't that sent me to war to acknowledge my disability."
There are good reasons for this. I don't need the Gov'ts money to live, I've got plenty of my own. Equally once you are under the payroll thumb some idiots, >sorry<, some politician thinks you belong to him for whatever his/her feelings. Sadly, the forgotten thing by these politicos is you don't belong to them. That the State is the servant of it's people, that this person is not, nor ever has been, the servant of the State. However, I do feel that if the State is paying your bills you should maintain a credibly minimum standard.
The adviser explained to me that I had not worked enough in the past 10 years to be eligible to be designated "disabled". When I pointed out that I simply wanted the government I bled for, the government sent me to war, just to acknowledge my disability w/o any financial obligation from the State I was told nope. Medical determination of disability costs money and since no money was involved on my part it was NOT going to be done. Basically I was told to screw off. Politely off course but screw off.
So, finishing my lunch I packed my things and was headed to the Restore to apologize for being late for my volunteer shift. In fact, I was going to say sorry but I was so disrupted that I might not do the volunteer time at the Newington Restore. I went over to the locker, I made, and proceed to unlock it when the Store Executive entered the room. She asked me if I was working today to which I replied sorry but no, my calm is too dicey to work a full shift. She then said goodbye and went out to the floor.
Little did I realize that she went to the floor to talk to Nirvana. Nirvana is the Restore's floor manager and a damn good one. Nirvana and the Store Exec then came into the gear room and Nirvana grabbed my attention. As I said hi I looked over and noticed that both women looked worried. My first statement, being the Dennis the Menace that I am, was "I'm sorry, what did I do wrong?" Nirvana asked me why I thought I did anything wrong and I pointed out the concerned looks on both the faces pointed at me.
Nirvana pointed out that I did nothing wrong, nothing at all. When I asked why the worried faces Nirvana then dropped the other shoe. Since I had been late Nirvana (and the Exec) thought that I was not going to show up. Apparently that would have made life much easier all things being what they were. However since I did show up Nirvana was then coerced into informing me that the Exec (who stood there like a worried rabbit) was not comfortable with me being a Restore volunteer.
I absorbed my being fired like I have many distasteful things in my life, quietly. I left the Restore and took Brie home, where I dropped her off for the final time, and then drove back to the restore. This took me about an hour or so given the traffic congestion that was building up. I then realize that inside the lock box that I had bought and designed for my Restore use, they don't have lockers or personal areas of any kind, I had Restore property. Essentially brass dead weight so that no one would accidentally pick up my lock box and mistakenly, or not mistakenly, walk off with it.
As I decided to return valuable metal I realized that my hat was a Restore hat as well. Wearing it marked me as Volunteer of the Restore and could in fact be misleading to customers. It did not matter that I got the hat over two years ago when I was an accepted Volunteer at the Dover location of the Restore. In fact, I got the hat when I was an Assistant Director of Southeastern New Hampshire Habit for Humanity. Faith Relations was my job however being a volunteer my motivation.
So I explained to Nirvana that I needed to know "what" worried the Exec. Why's are confusing, debatable, and can lead to discord. In my current, newer Brain Injured condition, "what" is clear while "whys" foible me up like crazy. In fact, I pointed out that my memory is a bit dicey, that I would appreciate an email explaining the what and defining my appropriate boundaries to be great desired. With Audible conversation I can very well be an Alzheimers patient but with the written word I am clear as a bell.
So Nirvana kindly told me, after I assured her that I was not seeking discord or legal action, that the Exec had little confidence in my mental stability. Now, to be honest that is a fair concern regarding a brain injured person. However, I have only said "Hello" to this Exec two times and today being one of them. In fact, I've spent much more time at the Restore setting up my volunteer position, self made locker for example, I have as an actual volunteer. Sadly, the Exec wasn't around for any of that time. Apparently being an Executive requires you to spend a lot of time outside the office handling matters like getting the decent workers to fire volunteers you haven't even met... or are brave enough to meet.
So when I handed in the dead weight I also handed in my well earned hat. After all, I am not banned from the Restore. Heck, I am a valued customer all things considered. There is not a room in this house, not a small house, that does not have a piece of furniture that came from the Restore. In fact, some rooms are filled be nothing but furniture bought from the restore. So, please come on in but only bring your wallet. Your spirit of giving should be limited to cash and nothing else.
I had thought the Restore had improved with the removal of Doug Willey. My wife hated that man because he was an unmitigated ass who engaged in sexual base banter at my expense at a dinner. Doug felt so threatened by my example that any discord he could attribute my direction, he did. This kind of office politic environment led to my resigning my illustrious position, whatever illustriation that could be imagined by morons, and my avoiding the Restore. My wife & I thought, "Damn, they got rid of Doug! Restore is better!!!" Boy were we wrong.
In fact, my overall treatment by the Restore, and SENH Habitat for Humanity, has been appalling. I did one time try to raise my concerns about how things were being handled at SENH H4H. When I did it through the Facebook group page I ran to coordinate volunteer builders - someone from them complained to Facebook that I was infringing on their trademark. (Group page deleted!) When I sent my complaint through National - plink virtual digital black hole. To this day no one has tried to get in touch with me however the local Habitat did have a meeting with me, asked me what I would change, then dumped me into the circle file while making the changes I suggested.
Apparently if someone isn't running away with Habitat's money, every thing is okay. If Habitat is running away with everybody else's money or ideas, GREAT.
Yeah I implied that the day ended well. It did, I'm still alive and cognizant today. Sadly, there was a few days were I only had half that and I had better have been happy. I had no other choice. Why is it that Brain Injured isn't just an invisible disease, it is treated like an invisible plague.