Why I'm dismayed...

... yesterday, today, and (quite probably) tomorrow.

I am DISABLED.

My primary agrees, I am disabled. Not as much as initial reports had cautiously warned my wife I would be. I don't dribble saliva unwanted, my eyes track like normal, other than the scars on my forearms no marks. If you don't talk to me, or shuck up my sleeves, I look normal.

But I am NOT.

Where the significant disability comes into play is.... my psychology. In thought, many times, I forget that I even had the accident. I've got little, or no, memory of the event I was attending. Zero memory of the accident, completely. Sometimes my brain will be zipping along unhindered and than >BAM< I remember.

I try to interact with you people, everybody else, and it becomes apparent to me as I try. In my own head I am reflecting on my behavior and thinking "OMG, what an idiot!?!" It is in behavior that I have been significantly reduced as a person. In many ways I have been reduced to a teenager. Impulse control, social awareness, even language is not under my control as is expected of a grown man.

However, if you ask Social Security if I am disabled they will tell you no. Apparently going to war for this government is all fine and dandy when the bullets are flying but when you need your government to have your back - "Tough luck sucker"!

This is where my disability becomes apparent. I still suffer some Aphasic moments and this is complicated in the workplace. Heck, just one aspect of my personality (before accident) is a workplace complication at times. I am a Gentleman. I want to be a "gentle" man but if you are not careful you may realize how ungentle I really am.

Sadly, in some aspects of our society (Lifetime channel is a good place to point) being a "gentleman" is flirtatious. It is also deceitful among the many other "flaws" of masculine aspects. Combine respectful by nature with Aphasia and life gets complicated. A fine example is my recent attempt to rejoin the workplace via Home Depot. In retrospect, I had no reason to be grateful to a co-worker (female) however expressing inadvertent gratitude gave her a sexual harassment compliant.

Did I offer or ask? No, but that has nothing to do with "complaint" from a woman. Apparently, our legal environment is only concerned with the possibility of complaint, not the validity, to create drama and financial woes. And that is just one aspect of my disability in the workplace.

However Social Security, AMERICA the land of the free and the brave, sent me a rejection letter for my claim. I think it is a rejection letter. On the phone, via voice, I was totally rejected. I got a letter to that effect however I have not opened that letter. I got it 1 year ago, in fact. I realize that it is not for me to open that letter. That is for my attorney to do.

That is the next aspect of my disability. Today I am going to look at getting one here locally. As I am not from New England, I have little resources or history to work with in this regard. I've asked my brother, who is in the legal profession, for guidance but alas I have not gotten any. However a good friend of mine (about my age and another Desert Storm Veteran) has some recent legislative experience and I am going to go with his suggestion. "Word of mouth" after all... ...

However I am dismayed by how many ways society has abandoned me. I'm a veteran, who has not been seen by his VA doctor in a year. I'm a freemason, who is considered of ill worth because my psychology is not as staid and stuffy as the other guys (anymore) and that my financial wallet is not as open as it used to be. I'm male, and the list of problems associated with that grows daily - ask any female misanthrope. (Who are more common then they themselves realize.)
I am dismayed and disabled.

Help...

... I need.

One of my problems is I can't slow down my thoughts however I have lost the ability to do proper follow through. Or, put like this, I have become the equivalent of a 7 yr old. Impulsive as crazy but dedicated to little.

This means, there are a lot of plans and activities that I have thought through, in detail. Sometimes I ask questions and do things to test the waters of my plans. However, something shiny or flashy will enter my attention and there I go... off like a Magpie chasing it down.

This behavior is disruptive to my finances and my marriage. Finances, easy to understand. Marriage, with a strong, organized, powerful woman as my partner how can being married to a Magpie NOT frustrate and annoy the hell out of her. She stands by my side, without question, however how can I not feel pain watching her love & commitment be tested.

I've tried turning around me for shoulders to lean upon but so far only one shoulder has proven to be sufficient. My church, God bless them, has striven to be that shoulder yet there are memories coming out of me that I should not share with them. They don't think about such things and many of them has never even been close these things. American Legion or the Disabled American Veterans, always there however like my church - things they should not have to worry about. Even the state of New Hampshire has fallen short of the mark: Krempels Center, an organization of con artists, and a couple other brain injury support groups has tried but one qualification necessary to understand is a qualification that "normals" discriminate against.


Veterans of Foreign Wars has proven to be sufficient. It is a place where people gather together to help each other where they can. Help each other to bear memories that are very heavy. Irony being, like prize fighters, old soldiers deal with brain injury on the regular. After "x" number of explosions, "x" number of parachute crashes... errr... landings, "x" number of mild, or severe, concussions, where does the "brain injury survivor" badge gets put on that chest as a medal?

As an example, this is an example of how much thinking I do. I've thought these things many times but each time I start I forget that I've thought about it. Until about now...

And just about now comes the realization that, for the most part, none of you gives a damn.

I think that is what bothers me about being gracious to the gratitude expressed by civilians. I feel damned awkward when someone thanks me for my service. Why awkward? Because I refrain from asking them how do they show that thanks? Voting on worthwhile Veteran issues? Nah, that would dip into my pocket! Nah, that would require effort and thought! It is much better to just say the words "Thank you for your service" and dismiss you out of hand as if you were part of the wait staff. A waiter who does not even get a tip!

Some Research...

... into Brain Injury as a plot device/mechanism is what I am doing. I've been intrigued by the common nature of the mechanism (Galahad is the term I think). Where the memory is wiped so that re-introduction to the main character is also an introduction to us at the same time.

Now, this mechanism is rife in literature and movies but I'm interested in making a list of Video Games that use this mechanism. I.e. Fallout New Vegas, Lost Planet (#1), on and on.

So, if you know of an entry to this list please email john paul lavelle at gmail dot com (remove the spaces). I'll make a google doc listing what comes up at some point when I can remember how to do so. Pardon me while I go play a session of life with brain injury. :-)

My trip to Philly brought more awareness...

... of how bad the Krempels Center was for me.

Becoming my friend, via social media, Brie was able to reach out and offend everyone I knew. This was "news" to me. I had dinner with an old high school buddy whose wife is a professional in the disabled support industry. She was astonished at my recovery levels, made me smile, but expressed concern regarding Brie. Apparently Robin had to De-friend the crazy ho-bag who engaged in copious amounts of "not safe for work" activity. It got me trying to think back on how Brie became my friend.

Brie is a brain injury survivor that I met at Krempels 7 months after my injury. Now, granted, I took myself there (remarkable ability of mine) however they should have told me to come back in eight (8) months. 7 + 8 = 15 months AFTER my traumatic brain injury.

That is important as the first three (3) months after such an injury there is little, to none, cognitive recovery. Then it takes twelve (12) months after for sapience to properly return. At that point, the injured should be tested for social re-integration. Any brain injury professional will tell you, this process is important and should NOT be violated as it may cause issues, or the appearance of issues, in the recovery.

Seven (7) months after my injury, six (6) months after enduring comatose states, Krempels introduced me to a Piranha without any warning of any kind. In fact, complaining about the Piranha got the local police involved.... at Krempels' request. Going to my local police to stop a stalker got police after me... by the stalker's good friends at the Krempels' Center.

Still, what enabled me to be so gullible as to allow Brie access to my life, my computer, and my money?

Marijuana is what.

Brie regularly smokes. 2nd Hand smoke re-ignited my nicotine habit. But she doesn't just smoke tobacco. I had to regularly ask her to stop smoking weed in my car. I grew up around it and I know the dangers of it but my wife grew up near it and hates the smell of it. Without realizing the specific smell... she still hates it and when the whiff of it enters the air she gets hostile. So, Brie wanted my wife hostile to me (by smoking it around me) but also to impair my thought process via 2nd hand smoke.

And this is what the Krempels Center did for me. Introduced a weed smoking pot head to a brain injured person, complain to the Police when I asked her to stop stalking me, and made me Person-Non-Grata at the Portsmouth Community Center. So much so that when I showed up, quiet and reserved, at the Governor's (of New Hampshire) Public Hearing on treatment and discrimination against the Disabled... police officers escorted me from the hearing.

I guess the Krempel's Center Staff (who called the Police) was concerned that I'd complain about their violating my HIPAA to the Police. I have never had any interaction with Portsmouth Police, in fact any nearby Police Department until I reported a stalker, however the Portsmouth Police readily had information that was only available from my Medical Records, which the Krempels Center snatched a few pages from... without consent of me or my wife.

And I should be a big man and forget the harm that they did to me? I would do so if not for my concern that they would do this to any brain injured veteran (like me) that may cross their door. After all, my being a combat veteran was much ado when I showed up. Silly me, I should've shut up and acted as disabled as they wanted me to appear instead of trying to ask intelligent questions.





PS: Irony being, she regularly carries weed into the Portsmouth Community Center, one time I saw a whole ounce, which is supposed to be a safe place environment. Using the "safe place" aspect to slander my reputation.... ironic wot?

What is wrong with me... ...

... ... that other people are not telling me?

This is something that has started plaguing my thoughts:

• I don't go to church regularly like I used to because maybe they are not telling me. 

• I don't go to the VFW like I used to because maybe they are not telling me. 

• I don't want to go outside of my house like I used to because maybe people are not telling me. 

I don't want to be an embarrassment to my wife or family or society that I am part of... so instead of making myself available like I should, like I had wanted to, I hide myself away at my computer. Hours and hours spent playing games to keep this Mensan's mind active, praying for the day that I recover more mental ability so that I finally understand what is so wrong with me that people are not telling me.
Now, in fairness, I am probably worrying about nothing. Worrying about something that does NOT exist at all. But from the way some people have treated me I can't help but wonder and worry.

I.e. The Portsmouth Community Campus, where Krempel's is a "tenant", does not wish my presence in their community. So much so, they contacted the Portsmouth Police Department and had a trespassing ban issued upon me. Today, on this Memorial day commemorating my valiant Combat/War service to this country is not welcome at Portsmouth's Civil gathering location. (???)

The real problem, for me, is that there was no reason, at all, given for this action. None so I am left to speculate on possibilities. How petty can the local gov't be to the Federal Gov't that it would like to punish a wounded veteran? Or, or, or, there are so many possibilities that even going done this road is painful.

I just have one question:

What is wrong with me that other people are not telling me?

No amount of reading will ever beat experience...

... and I think this is part of why the Lord let me live.

Before I joined the Army I quietly, but shortly, dated a troubled soul. There was some level of physical interaction and from that brief moment of our lives a daughter was conceieved. Much more on this story, of course, but that would be digressing from the point of this chapter.

So, as I was 18 years old, healthy and untarnished from the events that will take place, I concieved a beautiful and healthy young girl who is getting older as I type. She is a lovely specimen of her father's love and the only child of mine that is still alive. All other offspring have passed on but there is no complaint in my soul regarding this. Those breif moments I had with them, extremely brief, were gifts from the Lord.

One of them, Amanda, almost lived out of toddlers years but succumbed to the condition that has, and will, afflict any child born of me. Nueral Tube Defects are not pretty, particularly encephalocele, of which 4 daughters have been born with from me. From me and several different women. It is, specifically, me that has major chromosomal damage and no one else. They may bring complicating side effects but it is me.

Now, I have always regretted serving in Desert Storm because of the children such service has cost me. Not to mention the emotional pain to women who were worthwhile (after a fashion) before such a loss. One poor woman, my 1st wife, suffered through multiple births and deaths before washing her hands of me and my damage. It is now easy to see why so many co-workers of mine never knew of my service. Talking about it brings the pain into focus and primary status, even just for a brief time, and I just did not want to trawl through that pain over and over again.

One thing that did plague my thoughts was: What would their life be like with such damage to their brains?

After all, even they survive birth with such a condition life long treatment involves "shunts". Revisions of "shunts" are common and the damage from inserting them, heck even removing them, is "unknown" at this level of medical expertise. So, Amanda could have grown up to be a beautiful young lady impaired from repeated, but neccessary, brain injury.

How would she be? What could she remember? When would she think?

These things I did research upon and was worried about the diminished life she would lead.

Talk about hubris hunh? As if life, for me, has been so great that coming up short of mine is a diminishment. The truth it my life, while having interesting moments, has been good. It has been rewarding and worthwhile. Even now, in my diminished state - life is good.

I am surrounded by the love of good woman. Supported by the good graces of my church and sometimes treated well by family members. I have had almost 50 years of interesting times to try to remember, if I can, of worthwhile moments. Primarily because of the Lord's grace but assisted by my refusal of being slimey.

So, in closing, I studied and researched what I feared for my little girl's lives but no amount of that brought me even close to understanding the road in front of them. Heck, the road that Amanda walked for a few years. Now, practical experience is showing me what I thought I knew, but feared, and is showing me that life is still good.

Even now.

A Walking Miracle Who Ain't...

Those who are familiar with the details of my accident point out to me that I am a walking miracle.

I stand tall.

I walk tall.

I talk without drool.

My eyes see you for the potential target you may be.
It is not lazy nor am I.

There are 5 groups of support nature that I am going to type about. Community Action Partners, St John's United Methodist Church, Eve Online Buddies on Skype, Krempel's Center (Stepping Stones previously), and the Ingress community.

Community Action Partnership of Strafford County is a 501(c)(3) private nonprofit organization celebrating 50 years of service. Our mission is to educate, advocate and assist people in Strafford County to help meet their basic needs and promote self sufficiency. We do this through a variety of coordinated programs and services that rely on local, state and federal partnerships and collaborations. (Irony being that at the time of my accident I was the Asst Spvr for Strafford County's Meals on Wheels program.)

St. John’s is a diverse and reconciling congregation of almost 450 members actively seeking to discover what it means to live and work together as people of God. We are located in Dover, New Hampshire USA.

Eve Online (stylised EVE Online) is a video game by CCP Games. It is a player-driven, persistent-world MMORPG set in a science fiction space setting. Characters pilot customizable ships through a galaxy of over 7,500 star systems.[1][2] Most star systems are connected to one or more other star systems by means of stargates. The star systems can contain moons, planets, stations, wormholes, asteroid belts and complexes.

Players of Eve Online can participate in a number of in-game professions and activities, including mining, piracy, manufacturing, trading, exploration, and combat (both player versus environment and player versus player). The character advancement system is based upon training skills in real time, even while not logged into the game.

Krempels Center is a nonprofit organization dedicated to improving the lives of people living with brain injury from trauma, tumor or stroke. In partnership with universities and community volunteers, we offer programs that engage our members in meaningful and productive experiences and provide ongoing support and resources to those impacted by brain injury. Because Krempels is not a medical-based program bound by insurance requirements we do not use the word client or patient, but rather member. In addition, the organization’s community outreach initiative provides education to the public about brain injury and brain injury prevention.

Ingress is a near-real time augmented reality[3] massively multiplayer online pervasive game created by Niantic Labs, a startup within Google, currently for Android devices,[4] but expected to be available for Apple's iOS in 2014.[1] The game has a complex science fiction back story with a continuous open narrative.

Now, these groups have supported me after a fashion. Today I found out that my application to Community Action Partners was rejected. Shocking turn of events as the interviewer found my details to be quite in line with what Community Action Partners do. What disqualified me? I'm a walking talking miracle who is a combat veteran of the United States of America. (???)

I am not DISABLED enough to worry about. And if my disability does become an issue, let the U.S. Government handle it - if they will.

St John's has been there for me during my recovery. They even did a complete criminal background check on me so that I could, potentially, be alone with children (as needed). That compliment is ... a compliment. However shortly before my accident I upset a fellow church member. Around that time there was a horrible incident that ended with the death of a Police Cheif (acting heroically!) and the death of the Perpetrator. I joined in the expression of greif and loss from such a hero (and he was) however I would not find comfort in the loss and death of the perpetrator. I shared my dismay that too many christians were rejoicing in such an outcome. To me, the death of a sinner is a soul lost, I care not what his sin.

Eve Online buddies, got my back. Most of them are military veterans and within driving distance. They know the efforts I've made on their behalf - in Eve and in real life. They've been supportive like family.

Krempels Center.

This one is complicated. Like Community Action Partners, I am not disabled enough to fit the bill they hawk around during fundraising time. Added complication, one of their pronounced disabled "stars" took a strong liking to me. So much so she became my Stalker. When I went to the Police to stop this activity (before it became even worse) the Steppings Stones program expressed "fear of me" to their local Police Dept. So, in turn, their local Police Dept issued a public ban on my presence. In essence, a restraining order without any judicial oversight of any kind.

So reporting my stalker, who was trying to ruin my marriage and leech funds from me, got me punished without any kind of representation.

Didn't we, the Americans of the United States, complain about this at one point?

Now, I'll skip talking about the Ingress Community as I have talked a lot about them in very complimentary fashion. They don't care who I was, they don't care what happened to me (though when they find out they all say "damn"). The only they care about, which is the only thing that matters, is what I bring to the table of that community.

Now, all of this is to explain why I am depressed.

This kind of crap never lets up.

I event went to the Local Police Dept in question. They don't care to listen to a freemason veteran who is disabled. They only care about the "lie" that they were given. Afterall, I'm a brain injured person of over 6 feet in height, a combat veteran with a purple hear, who should not be afraid of that person?

I mean, he is brain injured.

Why listen to his jibber jabbering?

Therein lies my real trauma from Traumatic Brain Injury. How the society I bled for, fought for, is so readily willing to discard me.

That is why I am a Pease Greeter. I never want a soldier to feel discarded or dismissed.

Not like I have felt or like I now feel.