This is our 15th Anniversary of being together which now has like a wedding thing throw in too. And this is also the BY FAR, worst anniversary yet. As opposed to yesterday when a doctor or Tech assumed Linda was my mother.
After returning home from the hospital yesterday and sleeping until 9:45 pm, I work, and ate and then did a short blog, talked to Linda and Cheryl and went to sleep. We had been promised, BY management, that the workers would NOT start above our heads. At 6:30 I was given a valium and besides lying there stiff waiting for the hammer noises to start I did get about five minutes sleep until THE HAMMER started, no, not on the other side of the building (over 50-100 yards away) but right above our heads. That was followed by the high power blow torch to seal the roof which was applied, again, four feet away from my hospital bed (vertically).
Linda found that the living room was quieter and created a bed there and moved me and gave me some more valium but it seemed where we moved, they were quick to follow. After a hour, we gave up and headed over to my parents place (last resort) which they said was “cool” – except it is south facing on the second day of a heat wave. Linda drove over, I was wheeled in and first called up and had an interesting discussion with the owner (who by the way, Peter Kerr, is one of, if not the largest tenancy building owners in Victoria, and on the board of the Independent Owners Rental Assoc. and who also probably can't believe I have that number and is changing it as we speak). Mr. Kerr did offer me $1 compensation (that 50 pence for the UK readers, .97 cents for the US readers and 109 yen for the Japanese readers - to give some perspective JUST the ambulance to the hospital was $86). He might have actually offered me $3 ($1 for three days), when I told him that since I had a lease that stated I have use of my premises and that includes a quiet time from 10 pm to 9 am. And since it was the OWNER breaching that quiet time deliberately, I viewed it the same as the owner taking part of my accommodation space (ergo a breach of contract) and was happy to pay for every day that met the lease requirement. He was quite agitated and asked if I was threatening not to pay my rent. I said, not at all, I was informing him I was paying the rent of every single day that the lease contract was met – since after all, it was HIS lease, that HE has required me to sign. Seriously, am I the only one who reads these? It went on for a while. He now wants all communication from Linda and I in writing while he will NOT be putting anything in writing. I said that seemed hardly binding, much like his promise of having he workers work on the opposite side of the building today (That legal talk for, you are a deceptive weasel who does not fulfill the contracts you enter into so you want to make sure that you never enter into any.)
Seriously, we talked for over 40 minutes without either person making a single statement of agreement or binding phrase. Meaning, if I said, “They started directly overhead.” He said, “Being in a wheelchair there is no way you could visually verify that.” I said, “You are aware I have medical issues, would you like my medical file.” He would reply, “I may be aware that you use a wheelchair but I have no need for further medical information nor could I know where your apartment is.” (meaning, “I can’t be held liable for what my contractors are doing because YOU have not provided me with information needed.” While trying to avoid acknowledging or receiving officially any information for which he could be liable). Mr. Kerr actually ‘forgot’ the nails across the my door of his LAST renovation until I mentioned that while he may not remember, since it was published in the newspaper with pictures, I think many other people would. (Meaning, “If this goes to Tribunal your renovations have a history where your official representative (Fran) ignores the equal access or medical needs of your tenants with disabilities….which was documented in a public forum.”) - at which point he did remember, which I guess means he did or could find out where my apartment was. Golly.
Anyway, got off the phone, Linda hurried me to bed, as by this time I was a light shade of green, more valium (well the ER doctor said he did want me to take four valium a day to stop seizure patterns, I don’t think this is what he meant), and I slept for two hours. When I awoke I was so hot that not only were my arms and hands green from the veins but also turning dark from the blood that had burst from the smaller and larger veins all along my hands and arms (this was after noon).
Now it is tonight and unfortunately our camera likes to create “smooth skin tone” by making things all the same color but my hand here has right now at LEAST 10 dark purple bruises from blood bleeding out, not to mention the amount between my thumb and forefinger. Too bad Linda is always trying to stop me from passing out or being hospitalized instead of recording my condition for the blog - darn it! My biceps to elbow had three main bleeds, one about the size of a silver dollar (because I know you ALL have those!). Most are hidden now that I am in a 19 degree environment. But two are visible however muted in this picture.
So, after waking, I was dropped at home where I did chores, shower, laundry, cleaning up the bed made in the living room, moving the water bottles, etc. After two hours I was exhausted. The heat earlier had put me into heat exhaustion which meant some cramps and time with my porcelain friend. And as I mentioned earlier, when the right side of your body has loss of muscle use, that don’t just include the muscles you SEE, but the ones say, lining the intestines too – which makes the cramps all the more cruel. Also I tend to talk back to them" “Fuck, I’m ready, I’m TRYING! If you could you know…HELP, so that taking a dump doesn’t take 90 minutes of pain!” That’s right, I am speaking to my intestines and then since I am so thin, I am physically trying to move things along in the intestinal tubes I feel just under my skin. Oh, gosh, hope you aren’t eating DINNER.
After that, I slept, again, with Linda joining me for a nap. We staggered awake. Then said “Happy Anniversary, now stay away from me for a while, because between the heat and the 8 hours of hammering, I am not fit for human company.” Which is when my mother showed up. To give Linda and I flowers. Which she was allergic to. Thus requiring her to leave. (Which begs the question, how did she buy them and carry them over if so allergic). Ah well. So Linda and I have decided to delay our anniversary for a week or two until the construction in done, we are both caught up on sleep, not in pain and not exhausted from being in ER for hours on end. And that is my/our 15th anniversary.
What I would like, for the few people still around (I did a run down the list on the side of bloggers and virtually EVERYONE was gone for August. But EFM marches on, or staggers on, or just lies limply by the side of the road, a shade of green). Is please, tell me your “worst birthday”, “Worst anniversary”, “Worst Celebration” story. Because while this one sucked for the big 15, which should have going away and champagne and Jacuzzis and such, I am getting instead a grilled cheese sandwich. Woo hoo (maybe, if I am lucky, a dinner omelet)! And then…..Linda and I are going to work together on the Postcard Project as a form of Bonding until we start throwing things at each other. Honestly, I think right now we both care far more that we can SLEEP IN tomorrow without workers than it is our fifteenth anniversary (all week with little sleep make Beth and Linda a little crazy!).
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