·

This week has been more frustrating than usual. Physically I’m doing well enough that I don’t need as many otc pain pills anymore. I sleep in my bed most nights. I’m getting more mobile. My swelling is almost gone. I never thought I’d be thrilled to be able to comfortably wear pants all day again.

So, what’s the problem you may ask. With my newfound renewed health, continuing mental stability, etc., I’m also finding I’m having a healthier desire for my freedom and independence again. In short, I’m outgrowing living in my parents’ guest wing.

I guess it was only a matter of time before this happened. I outgrew the long-term care facility in Nebraska I checked myself into back in May 2022 after only eight months.

But in those eight months, I lost over 90 pounds, got my wheelchair, got my heart issues stabilized, graduated physical therapy, had a few nurses and staff members flirt with me, and lost most of my fear of death. Not many people in their early 40s can claim they no longer have much fear of death.

Now, I love my parents. I appreciate the fact they let me live with them here in the suburbs of Oklahoma City for the last year while I got my Medicaid transferred across state lines more than words can say.

But now that things have stabilized, my wheelchair is officially paid off, and my finances are back in order, I think I’m hearing the siren cry of desiring my independence again. I guess I’m like the wounded bird whose been nursed back to health desiring to fly again or the domestic wolf hearing the call of the wild and knowing deep down that’s where he truly belongs.

I’m still on the waiting list for low-income housing in Oklahoma City. I’ve been disqualified from slightly over half of their complexes because I’m not a senior citizen. One place would have taken me except they can’t accommodate my needs (wheelchair, handicap accessible, ideally ground floor, etc.).

I’m starting to feel the old frustrations again, like I felt in the final couple months in long term care and when I was fighting my heart failure alone back in Nebraska during the pandemic. It is a frustrating feeling to know I’m doing my job but I’m not making as much progress as I could because others keep dropping the ball.

As far as going to long term care, I probably would have never had to done that in the first place had I been able to buy a wheelchair back in 2019. That’s when my mobility issues begin. My doctors in Nebraska knew I had mobility problems; my apartment complex knew I had serious mobility issues. Hell, even my family knew I had serious issues.

No one offered to help. Since I made less than 1000 dollars a month from all sources, I couldn’t afford a wheelchair on my own. Hell, I thought you needed a prescription to even buy own with your own money a few years ago. Damn gate keepers.

All it would have taken was a wheelchair heavy duty enough to support me. I could have made many of my doctors’ appointments with a wheelchair as we had handicap accessible public transit buses in my old hometown. Yet, no one bothered to listen to my problems. Hell, I’ve even had friends tell me I’m lucky to be on disability and not have to work. With friends like that, who needs enemies?

During the pandemic, I looked at wheelchairs on Amazon. Probably could have afforded one with my stimulus money. But supply chain problems were a serious issue back in those days. Hell, sometimes I couldn’t even get sanitizing wipes, masks, or even ground beef.

2020 was only four years ago, yet it seems like most people purposely block 2020 and 2021 out. I think our entire world has a collective case of PTSD from the covid pandemic and still hasn’t come to terms with millions of people dying from covid and life in general being completely disrupted. Now that we got wars going on all over the world, add those to the mix.

After a few years of struggles, I’m mostly recovered. The only thing I need now is a handicap accessible apartment. That’s the last hurdle. Even though my parents’ house has no stairs, it’s not handicap accessible. All the doors and hallways are too narrow. And my parents absolutely love to have little Knick knacks all over the house as decorations. Personally, I think of them as clutter that looks grotesque. But, since my name is not on the house’s deed, I get no say in things like that.

If I sound frosty, it’s because I’ve been overcoming challenges for a few years now and not seeing any acknowledgement from anyone who could make the last mile of the journey possible. When I first moved down to Oklahoma in February 2023, I was assured I’d have my own place by the end of summer. Here it is one year later, I’m still waiting. Hell, I wasn’t told the process of moving my Medicaid to Oklahoma wouldn’t start until I moved down here until after Christmas 2022. I guess I’ve had to fight for every square inch of ground I’ve gained in the last few years.

It upsets me that I’ve lost over 170 pounds since February 2020, got my mobility issues solved via a wheelchair, got my heart failure treated, been more stable mentally the last four years than most years (haven’t been to a mental hospital since 2013), graduated physical therapy, survived a pandemic without getting sick even once, found out I have an insane talent for picking the stock market, found Medium, and am now getting paid every month for my writings, etc., and I still don’t get much for credit for my accomplishments. Certainly not from anyone who can make my final hurdle of getting my own place possible.

God bless Robinhood, Stash, Coinbase, Wall Street Bets, etc. I love all you crazy bastards. You guys made it possible for millions of not rich people like me to make a few bucks in this worldwide game we call globalized capitalism. By the way, Dumb Money is one of my favorite movies from last year. I liked only Barbie and Oppenheimer even more. Didn’t get in on Game Stop personally but made a couple hundred bucks off Dogecoin before it went sour.

While I am proud for all I’ve accomplished and discovered in the last four or five years, it is frustrating that the people I was forced to trust on these changes haven’t been much help. Throw in a pandemic and hateful politics on top, the last five years have been one hell of an odyssey. No matter, I suppose. All of it, and I mean all of it, is now fair game for my writing.

I can say this now, but I’m actually glad I was fought every inch of the way and still wound up victorious. The bastards may have wanted me to fail and fall through the cracks, but I didn’t. Makes the achievements and the victories all the sweeter in that the people who said they would help more often than not just made shit worse and were blocking the way. No matter. I overcame despite their ineptitude, interference, and general all-around cluelessness. What can I say, on a long enough time scale you can’t keep a good person down.