Twice in the Attic

June 23/15

This morning’s journey into the long dark hallway of my mind begs the question , "which door will I try today , let's open one up and see what's waiting inside ; hmmm this is a room full of acceptance.  I knew this place existed , know I have been there before but I can't remember when .

 I recall with vivid detail being told I'd had a stroke I knew when I headed to hospital , when I woke with the numbness , I was told about the paralysis , about what was still working and what was not , but I am lost when I try to re-visit where and when I came to accept it . I recall the detailed dreams in hospital of my old fiercely independent brain , "I'm not staying here , my bank card and bus pass must still be in my jeans pocket , I'll walk off this wing , I know where there's a bank machine and a phone , I am outta here , I remember a series of dreams that had the room I was in being in my home and trying to get out of bed to head down to my bathroom to pee .

 I also remember the moment that my disability reared its head in my dreams , reality kicked in the door of my escape place and set up a command center , that moment was truly as devastating as the moment that I was told of my limitations , I was at one of my kids weddings and had to walk to the front of the room when a voice interrupted fantasy land and informed me that I needed a wheelchair or at least a cane or I would fall and be humiliated , as would my family , new and old . perhaps , and I can hear one of you out there saying it now , I still have not accepted things the way they are , I like that , too stubborn and tough to let Mr. stroke win one . 

This condition has been bringing forward several bouts of rebellion, while in hospital I refused to shave my face for 5 months, I have no clue where the first sprouts of rebel attitude grew from, lately it is my hair that I don’t want cut, no idea why, if I remember properly long hair was a pain in the ass, but I guess it makes me feel I have retained a tiny spot in the control room again. 

My hand is that much closer to the wheel and when the ship kicks into high gear and takes a crazy "what is this guy? nuts !" turn you can rest assured that Elvis is back in the building and captain stubing , gopher , and the shuffleboard equipment are floating in our wake somewhere . since I have no idea of where I may have encountered the point of acceptance I choose to take the path of badass , and say I know one tells me what I can and can't do , I feel that this stance is cool but not particularly healthy and I hear the angelic Dar in the background saying that I have to accept to move ahead , I guess that is so , she's never wrong , so I'll work on it but I will accept rebelliously and so when someday we meet fellow survivor I will probably have both a cane and a pony tail , somewhere between badass and dumbass.  Phil