Growing Up...

I've finally come to a major epiphany about my recovery. When I came out of coma my brain was, psychologically, an infant. An infant with the memories of a 44 year old combat veteran Freemason.

I am sure that the people who tried to help me intended nothing but the best however how do you help that patient along? Especially with something as complex, as varied, as alienable as traumatic brain injury? You do your best with what you have in front of you and hope for good results.

As an example, three months after my accident I was able to log on to my home computers. (Not a password that my wife can even remember) I was able to reboot my home internal network (self built) and get everything humming along nicely. However, psychologically I was not even a toddler. I had to be taught how to use English (again), how to swallow (from being tube fed), and even how to walk. This is the body of a man who has done 25 mile military marches and I had to learn how to walk again??

As the months go by, I wrestle with the memories of my experiences. They have always been at hand. I have a strong and healthy long term memory. Even if that weakened a bit a will never forget my time in "Desert Storm", ever.

So how do medical people deal with the slowly awakening mind of a Combat Tested Motorpool Sergeant? My suggestion: Very very carefully.

But that brings me to my current enemy: Depression. I can feel it reaching it's fingers out and slowly scrabbling around for an opening. However whenever it does I stomp on it. I remind myself of the good works I have shared in, of the good will I have been allowed to spread, I remember that I don't suck as much as I think I do.

I could list all the things that sadden me right now but that would just be an opening that it needs to grow. So I'm just going to tell you what I tell anyone who asks me how I am doing. "I am six feet over. And that beats the alternative!"

PS: I think I am about 26 now. In a 45 year olds body but just 26.

Founderitis....

Recently I was in Rochester, N.H. at the Home Depot. Several of my projects required some supplies and Home Depot is readily available. (I prefer Lowes but meh) While I was shopping I ran into a very beautiful young lady who knew my name. She knew me well enough to approach with warm greetings. I had to ask, "How do we know each other?" Her answer brought back to me many memories... and a few disappointments. That is what this post is all about, those disappointments and (more importantly) the cause(s).

This list is going to be talking about two organizations who suffer from the title. Not just suffering, unintentionally victimizing along it's way, but at the same time being victimized from the same condition. It is like being so afraid of the "stove" that not only do you not want to ever own one again, to avoid getting burned, but if one is available you push people into it just to prove your point.

These two very worthwhile organizations are South Eastern Habit for Humanity and the Krempels Center.

S.E.N.H. (Which they claim ownership of the name but don't own the copyright!) is a fine example of flailing about trying to not lose ground on the "funding" support while not being consumed by the effort that "funding" gathering requires of it's participants.

I used to be the Assistant Director for Faith Relations. I was tapped as the replacement however making sudden changes was not prudent given the sluggishness of the organization. However that did not slow me down. Every Sunday I would go to service at a local, vibrant, church to create interest. Some Sunday's I would target a specific church to say thank you. It that church made a donation, of effort or money, I would go to their sermon just as a way to say thank you. The irony of that practice was that it led me to find my home church. I still practiced my duties, whenever I could, however I side benefitted with a worthwhile home church.

To shorten this up I will share with you my last email to the S.E.N.H. Restore (such a funding source that the organization feels the need to NOT reach out).

-------- Message --------
Date:     Sun, 04 Aug 2013 20:46:41
From:     [Censored] <censored@censored.net>
To:     Restore Manager <manager@nhrestore.org>

Subject:     Some Clarity...

What I know of your concerns is extremely valid. The Aphasia does demonstrate that my injury can directly interfere with my thought process. Added to which I would not be aware, at all, of the mistake I had just made. So your concerns are reasonable... ... or at least by my standards (which can be strict when self-applied).

Of course that being said, my linguistic ability is greatly enhanced (and stabilized) via e-mail and other texting methods. When it comes down to verbal dialogue, and instruction, I ... how do my Doctors suggest I say it? Ah, yes.... I am the youngest Alzheimer patient you may ever meet. Verbal communication can be too easily forgotten but I do remember what I read. This was very true before my accident and critically true since my accident. I would appreciate a simple definition describing my position(s) vis a vis the Restore.

With this simple definition I can remember what my place is when I drive by the Restore. Whenever I drive by Newington I see the Restore and I feel the impulsive urge to swing on in and help around the house. Since our communication was via verbal dialogue it has been drifting away from memory already. In fact typing this e-mail is probably going to help me remember events however I am, honestly, unclear as to my position and as to the concerns you actually have.

Sadly our interaction, between us, has been limited to a few greetings. I think I can remember your voice but, truth be told, it has been so rarely active within my presence I can not be sure. However, that is unimportant. If I can get clear guidance as to your concerns and to my acceptable position here in e-mail... well voices don't enter e-mails. Added to which, if I read it I will remember it, clearly and distinctly.

I would like to express gratitude for your reading of this e-mail. Also I would like to express my remorse that you felt any negativity with my name attached to it. I not only want what is best for the Restore but I also want would be best for me. I have learned that sometimes I think that I am no different but that is very not true. I can only work with what people tell me or I drift back to thinking I can still do pre-accident things.

Thank you.

John "Q" Censored, F. & A.M.


-------- Message --------
Date:     Wed, 07 Aug 2013 17:40:42
From:     [Censored] <censored@censored.net>
To:     assistantmanager@nhrestore.org, Restore Manager <manager@nhrestore.org>, jturner@fosters.com

Subject:     Re: Hello from an Old Hand

On 19-Jun-2013 09:36, assistantmanager@nhrestore.org wrote:
> Nirvana Krist
> ReStore Assistant Manager
I am sorry I called you, it must have been by surprise. Again, my deepest apologies. Apparently my visiting just as a "customer" rang someone else's bell. I got someone from Habitat, from an Albany number, calling me and talking to me quite viciously about my inappropriate behaviors. Very profession in language, yes, but she was not talking to me, she was telling me how life is going to go regardless of the fact that I pulled over onto the side of the road to take the call.

Yes, I am upset by this but what has me the most upset was this woman's barking at me no matter how I tried to get her to stop and just talk to me. Emotional distress, being barked at so viciously has been the number 1 cause of seizures. So, I would like to thank the lady for her efforts. Now I know just how much grief and harassment I can endure all at one time. After Traumatic Brain Injury, you don't know or trust how much verbal and emotional abuse you can take.

I was then able to breathe, relax, and go into AAA in Somersworth and ask for a driver's assessment test. After all, I am an inappropriate trouble maker who may suddenly become mentally unstable. Add to which I am a member of Mensa, St John's Outreach Committee (I was voted in as Chairman!), a Freemason of Moses Paul Lodge #96, a volunteer (active) at the Dover Children's Home & End 68 Hours of Hunger (one of the timber rafters on their new building? A used a hammer and square to get someone else to nailgun it into place!).  If all of the above did not matter in the least, I am a combat veteran (of Desert Storm) who served in 101st Airborne.

Perhaps that might, at the end, explain why I am enjoying cosplay of Fallout 3. After all, the main hero in that game was born and raised in Vault "101". But that only makes sense if you don't consider me mentally unstable.

PS: I am quite mentally alert! I only verbalize myself slowly so my Aphasia doesn't pop out. But just because I talk with extreme care means nothing to the mind that is exercising extreme care. Or, as I have learned by working IT with ESL professionals, "broken English does not mean broken mind". Only the shallow and the mean spirited of heart assumes that.

CC: Sophie (who did not even say hi before this all banged out at me), Jonathan T.M. Reckford CEO of Habitat International, Jeremiah Turner (Community Desk Reporter of Foster's Daily Democrat)

John "Q" Censored, F. & A.M.


-------- Message --------
Date:     Thu, 8 Aug 2013 10:19:52 -0400
From:     Sophie Aikman <manager@nhrestore.org>
To:     [Censored] <censored@censored.net>, <jturner@fosters.com>
Subject:     RE: Hello from an Old Hand

Dear John:

Our sincerest apologies for any misunderstandings as no one told you that you were not allowed to come into  the ReStore and shop. The concern was that you have business cards with the Southeast New Hampshire Habitat for Humanity logo on them that misrepresent you as a volunteer for Faith Relations. While you may have sat on this committee previously, you are no longer a member of this committee, and we ask that you please destroy the cards immediately.

We will see you later today when you come to pick up the items you purchased yesterday.

Kind regards,
Sophie Aikman
ReStore Manager
SENH Habitat for Humanity
29 Fox Run Road
Newington, NH  03801
603-750-3200 / 603-427-8150
Tuesday - Saturday 9 to 5
http://www.nhrestore.org

-------- Message --------

On 08-Aug-2013 10:19, Sophie Aikman wrote:
> Our sincerest apologies for any misunderstandings as no one told you that you were not allowed to come into  the ReStore and shop. The concern was that you have business cards with the Southeast New Hampshire Habitat for Humanity logo on them that misrepresent you as a volunteer for Faith Relations. While you may have sat on this committee previously, you are no longer a member of this committee, and we ask that you please destroy the cards immediately.

The irony of the situation was that was my last card. I left one of my new cards with it as well. The reason for the new card? As my wife works heavily with the FDA, she's a molecular biologist for Lonza, having her take my last name would create a mountain of paperwork. The man named LaVelle was never in my life so I'm not attached to that either (one of the reasons why I answer to "Q"). So I finally convinced my wife to let me take her name as her spouse.

I have never used my old Habitat cards for any business purpose of any kind. In fact, I readily (even still) recommend the Restore to any interested parties. However my nickname for the Restore, which I use after I properly name it, is "The Christmas Present"! I tell people that it is a toy store for adults to find a toy however, if you see something you like get your receipt on it fast as when you come back it probably will be gone.

The reason for putting my card on the item I purchased? In the past Mr. Willey would express his feelings towards me by removing my receipt and selling my purchases to someone else. Yes, that is after I paid for them - in full. That behavior of his might explain the distance, and skepticism, I maintain towards the Restore. However I always felt that was a personal matter and never ever let it enter my recommendation of the Restore.

As to the card itself, since I was accused of fabricating the card, was issued to me by SENH Executive Officer Jonathon Miller. My position was not just "volunteer", it was Assistant Director for Faith Relations. I asked Mr. Miller to not put my full title but to instead put "volunteer". I thought that a humble approach was best when dealing with Ministers and Pastors. How you enter a room can fully dictate the expectations you meet. Irony being what it is: As a "volunteer" I accepted for SENH several donation checks from the Church that eventually became my home.

In that Church I have found a peaceful Christian atmosphere. I've breathed that atmosphere in and tried to share it wherever I could. Even to the point of having a Church outing to help finish the Pare home in Farmington. I would have spent more time on the house(s) that were built on Silver St. in Rochester but my accident, and injury, got in the way of such desires. I will confess, that notice and news of the dedication of that property without anyone (at all) calling me was a bit disheartening.

I accept your apology that my banning was not expressed to me. Last Wednesday, when I showed up for my first volunteer shift and was dismissed I did come back to the store asking for guidance. Specifically asking for it, from you or Nirvana, it did not matter. Just that I felt it would have been important for someone like me, with Brain Injury, to know what is what.

I have only one important question left. It is more of a "what" question totally divorced of "whys" and assorted issues that can clutter the air. Where, oh please, where can I find religiousness at the Restore or involving SENH? I feel nothing but the mission of being a hand up, not a hand out - but equally I feel no community spirit within the staff. Not the lower guys, they are egregious and put forth a good face in every facet of their job. However from you, from SENH, and from that executive woman with an Albany phone number - I have received little spirit, little help, and I would love to have received less hostility.

Don't worry, you don't even have to try to answer that question. I don't want you to put yourself out anymore on my behalf, over me. Sadly, I know that if I want to find Christianity - go to Church where they shouldn't have budgets and egos laying out messing things up.

Thank you for your time and your first email to me (ever).
John "Q" Censored, F. & A.M.

-------- DONE --------


As an interesting side note: The woman from Habitat in Albany never called me again, even to say sorry. The last email was, in fact, the last email interaction I have had of any kind. I am sure it was not the last email on the topic but I doubt the messages included anything nice in my direction.

And not a single inquiry was made (that I know of) by Foster Daily Democrat. Perhaps S.E.N.H. Habitat (who complained to Facebook and shut down my group with a remotely similar name) got a phone call but I am not privy to such details or material.

The reason this is on my mind? Well with the massive media cover former President Jimmy Carter got when explaining the nature of charity to the U.S. Congress I can't help but think that maybe, perhaps, he was facing the wrong way when he shared those wholesome Christian thoughts.

Maybe? Perhaps? Should we ask a PR Manager from Habitat about that?

The Changes...

Hmmm, well to start with I finally got a neurologist. Eleven months and seven days after my traumatic brain injury I finally got to have a personal appointment with a neurologist. At that, I was the one who dug her name up and set the appointment. Not easy being your own case manager! As a added bonus, the medical files that Bingham & Womans sent, via fax, are almost inelligible. So I have to call them up, order up my records, and drive down there and get them. WooHoo.

Speaking of >woohoos<, my finances have taken a harsh beating. My liquidity is being threatened which is a new irony for me. Many people have gained relief, or advantage, from my liquidity however their liquidity in returning what was borrowed is starting to interfere with my own liquidity. In fairness, all the loans happened before my accident. So no one has taken advantage of me in taking money. However it would be to my benefit if funds were returned to me while I learn how to manage my finances... ... again.

Finally I've come to something of a realization about what I may have to live with regarding this brain injury. My wife jokes (teasing me) when I make a mistake, "That's not brain injury related. That is XY Chromosome related." Accurate tease I might add however I am coming to the awareness that more of my XY errors are, in fact, brain injury related. I'll explain...

For a time I had no idea who, or what, I was. Then I learnt that I was human, that I could swallow, that I could talk, and that I could (eventually) go to the bathroom without assistance. Subsequently I have learned many things about myself and one of those things is that I am male. Now I did make male mistakes in the past, and yes some of them were honest mistakes, however as I relearn social interaction I am making a lot of them. I joke by saying that I could have a few Sheldon moments at the bat of an eye.

Well, I have been having Sheldon moments. And Penny is not happy with that.

11 Months & Counting... ...

Today is a milestone day. 11 Months ago I woke up, drove down to Boston, registered for the Hub on Wheels event, biking along fundraising and did not make it past the 15th mile. That being said, today is great. I am 6 feet over.

Had my second optometry appointment. At my first they were shocked to find one of my stygmytism's completely gone. However they could see the damage to my brain in my right eye. The right eye works fine however it has changed. So much so that my optometrist, God bless her soul, scheduled a visual field test. Under the auspices that my Neurologist would want it done.

Now, to be fair, I have not been seen by a Neurologist on a regular basis.... at all. In fact, I was the one that setup my oncoming appointment with Dr. Somyreddy on my own. My wife would have happily done these things but she has to work. Her schedule is not easy to work around and I don't want her to give up her career, which she has worked hard on having, for my sake for any reason at all. So, in adjustment, I have become my own case worker.

Today's test was an "Automated perimetry exam". In my humble opinion people should have one of these done just so that they a: know the experience when it becomes neccessary and b: so that if there is any thing going on it is discovered early. I was so afraid that I was screwing things up, during the exam, that I was scared I'd screw everything up.

I didn't.

There is clear signs of brain injury in the scan. My right optical nerve has not just swollen up around the connection point. It has taken on a weired shape. There is possibly some slight damage as well but it could also be the very early (earliest) onset of gluacoma. The doctor and I agree, this is most likely caused by the swelling of my brain.

The outcome is workable, the results very favorable. In fact, the results will substantiate a problem I have been dealing with just nobody beleive's (or understands) me.

I SEE everything.

My vision, baring age, is nigh onto being perfect. I see everything that moves around me, evertything. That creates a problem for me as my cognition is extremely active as well. I am overloaded with information, I always have been and my mental capabilities match my visual capabilities.

I almost always know when to run, first. I know when to attack, first. In fact, I see everything but my memory is very spotty now. In fact, I took the test just a couple of hours ago and I can just barely describe the experience. That quickly things just disappear... fading away.

In fact, I had a goal in my mind when I thought of doing this blog. That goal has faded away and I am struggling to stay mentally awake enough to type. So I'm just going to end with Good Afternoon while I trundle off to have a nap.

Good afternoon.

The Volunteer Spirit Lives On... ...

A very good friend of mine recently posed me an extremely valid question. How is my Volunteer spirit doing in light of my condition? Very good question as I am really really starting to learn that I am not who I was. However finding out who I am, now, is very confusing.

As an example, I attended my church's Outreach Comittee meeting. Our job seems simple, help to focus the Volunteer/Charitable spirit of the church into various productive activities. For instance, the Dover Children's Home or, the St Bernard Project or, Dover Friendly Kitchen or, helping End 68 Hours of Hunger or, on and on and on. The Volunteer Spirit thrives on at St John's United Methodist Church.

The only one of these projects I have not been deeply involved with is St Bernard's. I was supposed to go out on one of the mission trips however taking a year off for recovery has interrupted the plans. In fact, my recovery has interferred with many of these projects. Or at least my capacity in them.

So once again, How is my condition affecting my Volunteer spirit?

I don't know.

For instance, one of the topics was the Crop Walk. It is coming up and needs to be planned for, like all things. However the emotional distress I felt came from the 2012 Crop Walk in Dover N.H. Note the date of that walk. It happened almost one (1) month, to the date, after my accident. I was just coming out of Coma then. What's that got to do with anything? I was my church's project leader for the Crop Walk. I went to meetings, did drives, got people fired up to come out and walk. Turns out I had to spend my time learning how to swallow food again instead.

So, instead of facing the discussion on the Crop Walk (which I couldn't) I stated that I want to be involved however with my memory skills so spotty that I could not lead the project again. Not really surprising though. Before my accident I was tapped to be the Chairperson of the Outreach Committee. Even after my accident, the Church Council voted on approving my Chairperson-ship. A wonderful man was ready to "assist" me in chairing the council however I resigned my chair in favor of him. (He is not entirely grateful ;-))

Why? Well I am honored and flattered at the gesture. It was not an empty one, not at all. I know the heart of my fellow christians and they have been beside me through recovery every step of the way. It was the flattered feeling that made me realize something. The position is not about Ego. Granted there is a lot of work and planning that needs to be done however the truth is that my skills are not up to snuff in that regard. For Heaven's sake I would not want anyone out there to suffer simply because I forget to schedule discussion. Added to which, I was less than three (3) months injured when the honor was bestowed upon me. I typed my resignation with such poinency and dignity that it was reluctantly accepted, at three (3) months!

That is an important aspect, this Friday, the 23rd of August, makes my recovery at just eleven (11) months. And I can clearly state that I am not sufficient to the task now. In fact, I realized that I was insufficient for many of the tasks that we discussed.

Not insufficient mentally or emotionally. Sadly socially is my weakness. Not just my sometimes "quirky" behaviors either. Just from the barrier that exists in the collective mind that is Society. School program? I've passed background checks many times, nothing of note here. Oh wait, he's brain injured. Down Check.

I could list out all the down checks I see in my future but I don't want to cry tonight. I am already having a bad day, why make it worse?

That brings me to my trouble as a Christian. I wrangle with anger, a lot, but it is not at my accident. Or not primarily focused at my accident. I can not begin to tell you how much of myself I used to repress. I used to be very very careful in expressing opinion. And ideas, shucks I became so skilled at planting ideas that many of them don't remotely have my name attached. But that's okay, just as long as good work gets done, who cares about credit?

The sad truth of this world is that no good deed goes unpunished. That I used to take within stride, after all that was just part of the sacrifice that a good soul faces. Facing it straight on just makes you a Brave soul as well. However, I used to be sufficient enough to protect my wife from such aggravations. No more, in fact today was dominated by the actions of a nefarious neighbor.

Such is life. And such is my repeated prayer, "HELP".

I Don't Need Support, But Yes I do.

I am coming to the realization that I don't need support but maybe I do.

I am very very self actualized.

• I drive. I remember routes and can make very fine use of Google Maps. I have a Tom-Tom sitting on my desk rarely used becuase my pathfinding skills are far better then the most excellent GPS guide can ever hope to be.

• I handyman. I know all to well the safety hazzards of powered equipment and the necessary precautions needed to keep my own, and someone else's, limbs attached and unchanged. I've used a hammer, square, level, and knife to help construct things. In fact the new Dover building for End 68 Hours of Hunger has a roof on it that I helped put the beams in place. And I did it only 4 months after the accident when I couldn't balance myself on one foot but I could climb, safely, a scaffold and help direct a crane to place the Roof timber in place while someone else used the nail gun to lock it down.

• I am again a computer geek. While I have not tested the full extent of my old abilities, yet, I have reset my network. A network not from Comcast or ATT or any of the other data providers as I don't have confidence in what is being offered to the general public. My network handles all the data traffic in my house and some outside my house.

• If you visit my house you will have to ask me for the "guest" password. The guest network is not limited mind you, you can use it very well outside of my house. However signal degradation is designed to be STRONG out front of my house and beside my house. Coverage is good behind my house but only be there if permitted and invited.

• Can't be positive what might happen to an uninvited "guest" sitting around behind me house. Anything might, my backyard has deer, coyotes, and (rumoured) a couple of black beers. Additionally the Somersworth public schools are against part of my back property so, it should go without saying, that the occasional Police Officer is yet another random creature that haunts the area. If those weren't enough, the owner of the property (and the wifi) is an indentified sufferer of PTSD Combat Veteran who doesn't need a gun, at all.

• I am a show producer. With my creative side being unlocked from the old social/psychological restraints that once constrained it I have been working on an Audio/Visual show. I was recently (a few weeks ago) interviewed on "Don't Dis My Ability." That experience got my brain percolating, very much. Sitting there with Lee & Ali made me realize that I am as capable as I strive to be. Ron, bless his soul, showed me that there are doors I can open but only if I want to open them.

•  I DO.

My creative side expresses itself in many ways. I'm working on my home, spent so much time building and fixing other people's homes but at the expense of time on my new (to me) home. If this is where my wife & I live.... let it be lived in! Also, I carry a Canon digital camera around with me everywhere. If something beautiful enters my view, >snap<. If something dramatic happens, >snap<. If a car driver acts without regard to law or life, >video<.

I have a really large collection of photos just from my walking around my neighborhood. I remember 13th and West Moreland (Philly) without any need for visual assistance. I am now learning my local area. Maybe not as well but then I haven't lived here as many years as I grew up in Philly.

Some of the above facets of me have started coming together into one interesting package. Using my computer skills I have started learning how to record Audio & Video from with here, at my desk. I have also started learning how to be a backroom producer massaging those tracks into one combined track. I have also learned how to use YouTube to deseminate the product. However YouTube has limits imposed on it by highly intelligent jackoffs so I am seeking YouTube alternative(s).

Blip.tv was on avenue but to register a show is so much work. Heck, even their webinterface for doing so is broken, I mean fill out everything on the form but when you go to upload a sample of your show >plink<. Their server just doesn't work and they have no mechanism to report trouble. So I am going to have to plan out something. I have an idea but it is going to take a fair bit of work.

And my mind is filled with many many many ideas. There are so many possible shows I can do, so much video I have used my Camera (And Cellphones) to record, so many things I see that just doesn't make sense - opinioning is the fair thing to call it though I see the solution(s) as plain & obvious. The show may have me acting like "Sheldon" more than just a few times but come on people stop taking the state motto so carelessly. 

I mean, as a Combat Veteran, I watch these people who I put my life on the line for so casually tossing trash out the window desecrating this wonderful country - that if stopped they will scream their defense of it. Then they will revup their engines, cutoff a line of traffic to get on the highway, and light up a cigeratte so that they have a butt to toss out of the window onto the country they will say they'd defend with their obviously unwanted lives.

Yes, I need Support. I am not crazy, not at all. How I used to handle being so different from the :Common Conventions" was my personal assistant. He would keep track of appointments, resources, and upcoming agendas. He would guide me around social situations with the care that people can be landmines. One wrong step, >boom<. The wrong >boom< can activate the entire minefield at once. And this has happened to me at Church (before his accident) or at the Lodge (after his death).

Yes, my personal assistant died. We are approacing the first year anniversary of his demise and I am finding myself struggling without him. In fact, the tears have just started flowing down my face. I never really told him how much I loved him, how much I needed him, and how much his help meant to me.

So, yeah, I do need Support. To replace my ever present notepad that would remember that I slipped my ATM card onto my driver side visor. That is before I searched for it, then cancelled it, and sat down in the drivers seat for a half an hour .... then noticing the card. Yes, I need a personal assistant with memory better than mine. 

The accident, which injured me & killed him, victimized me. If I let it my injuries could make me "walking wounded" to draw the attention of our least desirable elements. Not that they would succeed, oh no, however my PTSD as a Philly Ghetto survivor might make my responses something to be regretted. That is an interesting aspect of my PTSD.

Doctors keep wanting to go back to my military service when, in truth, my service flashbacks are totally non-violent. Yes, someone could get hurt from them but it would be me. From a heart attack when the flashback hits I go through so much fear and shock that my blood pressure goes through the roof. (I practice Tai-Chi and Yoga to help my blood pressure standards.)

My mean streak was long before the military got me at 18 yrs old. It was started as a young white boy growing up in the black ghettos of Philadelphia. I've survived so many fights and attacks that the experience will never leave me. In fact, the experience is part of what makes me seem "odd" if you meet me in person. So many people are guided by what they see that they greet me warmly without realizing one plain truth that explains why I seem so different: I might be your "skinfolk" but I am not your "kinfolk".

Now, this does not mean I am angry. Not at all. Just that I have had to learn how to interact with White Culture as an adult. However, culturally I am a black man with an annoying white skin condition.

Yeah, I maybe self actualized but am I??

Really?

(PS: The calvary link is accurate however I served in the 2nd Squadron out at Sabre Airfield. It is not on Ft. Campbell, just a touch outside of Campbell.)

Was I So Wrong. That Day Just Grew Until It Hit My Fan!!!!

From:    <censored>
To:     assistantmanager@nhrestore.org, Restore Manager <manager@nhrestore.org>, jturner@fosters.com
Subject:     Re: Hello from an Old Hand

On 19-Jun-2013 09:36, assistantmanager@nhrestore.org wrote:
> ReStore Assistant Manager

I am sorry I called you, it must have been by surprise. Again, my deepest apologies.

Apparently my visiting just as a "customer" rang someone else's bell. I got someone from Habitat, from an Albany number, calling me and talking to me quite viciously about my inappropriate behaviors. Very profession in language, yes, but she was not talking to me, she was telling me how life is going to go regardless of the fact that I pulled over onto the side of the road to take the call.

Yes, I am upset by this but what has me the most upset was this woman's barking at me no matter how I tried to get her to stop and just talk to me. Emotional distress, being barked at so viciously has been the number 1 cause of seizures. So, I would like to thank the lady for her efforts. Now I know just how much grief and harassment I can endure all at one time. After Traumatic Brain Injury, you don't know or trust how much verbal and emotional abuse you can take.

I was then able to breathe, relax, and go into AAA in Somersworth and ask for a driver's assessment test. After all, I am an inappropriate trouble maker who may suddenly become mentally unstable. Add to which I am a member of Mensa, St John's Outreach Committee (I was voted in as Chairman!), a Freemason of Moses Paul Lodge #96, a volunteer (active) at the Dover Children's Home & End 68 Hours of Hunger (one of the timber rafters on their new building? A used a hammer and square to get someone else to nailgun it into place!).  If all of the above did not matter in the least, I am a combat veteran (of Desert Storm) who served in 101st Airborne.

Perhaps that might, at the end, explain why I am enjoying cosplay of Fallout 3. After all, the main hero in that game was born and raised in Vault "101". But that only makes sense if you don't consider me mentally unstable.

PS: I am quite mentally alert! I only verbalize myself slowly so my Aphasia doesn't pop out. But just because I talk with extreme care means nothing to the mind that is exercising extreme care. Or, as I have learned by working IT with ESL professionals, "broken English does not mean broken mind". Only the shallow and the mean spirited of heart assumes that.

CC: Sophie (who did not even say hi before this all banged out at me), Jonathan T.M. Reckford CEO of Habitat International, Jeremiah Turner (Community Desk Reporter of Foster's Daily Democrat)
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"Q" F. & A.M.
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