The eventual goal, not the dream, is a recumbent trike. My accident happened on a bicycle so I must eventually face wheels again. Why? Because TBI did not end my life but I am stuck in half-panic mode. I remember biking, I remember the gathering that led to the huge biking event, I even remember some moments of that bike ride.
Always with tears coming out of me when I talk about my last memory ... that last memory was glorious. I can't see how that a God given moment has anything to do with the accident but I can see how such a wonderfully glorious moment can stay inside this old Soldier.
So it is my opinion that I must, at some point, face certain things again. That section of Boston, or nearby Boston, has not been faced yet. But I did drive myself to the hospital where I was treated. Facing that was hard... but successful. It released some tensions in this soul. That experience made me realize my "face the music" mechanisms are right on target. So I must bike again at some point.
Caveats:
- My balance has not returned sufficiency. Bicycle itself is out as I'll likely lose balance and do myself harm again.
- I am disabled. People are not banging down my doors with employment opportunities sufficient to my lack of abilities.
That being said, a recumbent trike is not free nor should it be. It is a worthwhile item to utilize and should thus be treated as such. That leaves me sitting here pondering methods of accomplishing what I can with what means are available to me.
Now there are many doors I can drop my knuckles onto:
- Freemasons, as I was a Master Mason before my accident;
- Veterans of Foreign Wars, as I am a veteran of a foreign war;
- American Legion, as I am a legionnaire;
- Goodwill of New England, they considered me a "protected veteran" and they have a veteran fund;
- Eve Online: even across the seas from my many well wishers from that community (Shar Tegral, one of the E-Bank founders).
- Even upon the Ingress community, as I am an Enlightened Agent (SharQTegral) and that community has been wonderful in mental and social support as I recover.
There are so many doors upon which I could knock. In fact, too many for me to remember or realize that I've knocked upon it. Such is one of the problems with Brain Injury. But, I do think I know the category I could aim for as a Kick-starter project: Art.
Two forms of art are at my disposal, possibly three. Firstly, getting this old Airborne ground trooper back on wheels is, in itself, something of a miracle. Walking, talking, eating, is also a miracle given the extent of my injuries but having wheels under me again would be a miracle of personal delight.
Secondly, I've been writing my autobiography. Granted no publisher has been contacted nor has any tapped on me. But I have been writing it, in fact this here will likely be a part of it. Irony being, you can influence if this segment has a good ending or not.
Thirdly, a presumption on my part, I am a sporadic member of the Berwick Artist Association. I have influence but only from the talent of my passion. You will not meet people with as much passion for life and art as me. I grew up in a school just a few city blocks from the Philadelphia Art Museum. While some people will say it is not the height of art, this kid descended from Frenchmen disagrees. It is not the height, yes, but it is up there.
Next step, figure out reasonable rewards for donating to this cause.
Always with tears coming out of me when I talk about my last memory ... that last memory was glorious. I can't see how that a God given moment has anything to do with the accident but I can see how such a wonderfully glorious moment can stay inside this old Soldier.
So it is my opinion that I must, at some point, face certain things again. That section of Boston, or nearby Boston, has not been faced yet. But I did drive myself to the hospital where I was treated. Facing that was hard... but successful. It released some tensions in this soul. That experience made me realize my "face the music" mechanisms are right on target. So I must bike again at some point.
Caveats:
- My balance has not returned sufficiency. Bicycle itself is out as I'll likely lose balance and do myself harm again.
- I am disabled. People are not banging down my doors with employment opportunities sufficient to my lack of abilities.
That being said, a recumbent trike is not free nor should it be. It is a worthwhile item to utilize and should thus be treated as such. That leaves me sitting here pondering methods of accomplishing what I can with what means are available to me.
Now there are many doors I can drop my knuckles onto:
- Freemasons, as I was a Master Mason before my accident;
- Veterans of Foreign Wars, as I am a veteran of a foreign war;
- American Legion, as I am a legionnaire;
- Goodwill of New England, they considered me a "protected veteran" and they have a veteran fund;
- Eve Online: even across the seas from my many well wishers from that community (Shar Tegral, one of the E-Bank founders).
- Even upon the Ingress community, as I am an Enlightened Agent (SharQTegral) and that community has been wonderful in mental and social support as I recover.
There are so many doors upon which I could knock. In fact, too many for me to remember or realize that I've knocked upon it. Such is one of the problems with Brain Injury. But, I do think I know the category I could aim for as a Kick-starter project: Art.
Two forms of art are at my disposal, possibly three. Firstly, getting this old Airborne ground trooper back on wheels is, in itself, something of a miracle. Walking, talking, eating, is also a miracle given the extent of my injuries but having wheels under me again would be a miracle of personal delight.
Secondly, I've been writing my autobiography. Granted no publisher has been contacted nor has any tapped on me. But I have been writing it, in fact this here will likely be a part of it. Irony being, you can influence if this segment has a good ending or not.
Thirdly, a presumption on my part, I am a sporadic member of the Berwick Artist Association. I have influence but only from the talent of my passion. You will not meet people with as much passion for life and art as me. I grew up in a school just a few city blocks from the Philadelphia Art Museum. While some people will say it is not the height of art, this kid descended from Frenchmen disagrees. It is not the height, yes, but it is up there.
Next step, figure out reasonable rewards for donating to this cause.
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