Shelter Life: The Walking Wounded

It seems like every time I walk around the shelter these days I see people who are walking with the aid of walkers, or crutches, or not walking at all because they are in wheelchairs. I see arms in slings and legs in casts. The numbers are increasing, not decreasing.

I hear coughing all the time, and not just from me. The guy who just moved into the bed next to me coughed so hard that he passed out, and he says it's happened before. He refused to be taken to the hospital for whatever the reason.

People think of homeless as bums who just want a hand out. As one who is one of those walking wounded, I object to the stereotype. But my wounds are not obvious. I can walk, though with a limp. I walk in pain, though not a great deal of it, but if I go downstairs or upstairs, you may notice me taking them one at a time. I walk up a step with my left leg then bring my right leg with me. Repeat as necessary. The opposite is true, even more so, because stepping down on my right leg causes more pain and I'm afraid that the leg will give in.

My shoulder is even less obvious, unless I am requested to lift something. I got chewed out by another homeless guy because he didn't see anything wrong with me. Use your eyes, please.

The point is, though, that everyone's perception is different and you can't tell a book from its cover. Even though my body is not at 100%, my mind is. Give me something to do with my mind. I'll prove it.

In other news, I am taking the START Hospitality course at Wake Tech, and as the course draws to a close, the opportunities are starting to open up. For instance i had an interview yesterday at a Hilton Garden Inn in Raleigh, and the manager there apparently knew the guy who runs the Hospitality course. With my teeth the way they are (come on, Voc Rehab, get your a$$ in gear) I don't think I made a very good impression, but at least I am making the effort, and just getting the interview is an experience that will help with other interviews.

Hope is all I have left at this point.

My Body is Revolting

All right, old joke aside, I had a bad Sunday. First I endured as much as I could stand of an insane person's diatribe. His words are not repeatable as far as I'm concerned. This happened outside SWSC, while I was waiting for the center to reopen for the day. (It's open to everyone during the day, Saturdays and Sundays and in this case Labor Day Monday.)

I took as much of the hatred for women that the man spewed before I started walking downtown to get something cold to drink. I was passing Shaw University when an uneven sidewalk caused me to trip.

Normally, with a healthy knee and shoulder, I might have been able to catch myself. But this time, momentum and the weight of a 50 lb backpack caused me to just fall forward, on the very shoulder that I injured last February. I hit the cement hard, on my right side, with the full force of the backpack adding injury to insult.

I lay stunned for a moment, then slowly started to gather myself. My glasses had been thrown to one side (turns out I bonked my head slightly), my hat had gone in the other direction. I slowly slipped off my backpack and rolled over. My chest hurt. But everything else seemed okay. I stood slowly, painfully and then tried to put my backpack on. More pain.

I hobbled to where I could sit down, and the act of sitting was painful, as was the act of breathing. But once I sat and calmed down, I felt somewhat better.

Then I tried to get up again and it started all over again. I slowly made my way to  Moore Square bus terminal and used my last dollar to ride to Wake Med Hospital.

After waiting a couple of hours there, then waiting some more for results of X-rays, I was told that nothing was broken, but my chest wall was bruised. He recommended 5-7 days bed rest. I was somewhat happy about that because I thought I could get a temporary bed at SWSC with that note.

I was discharged, given a bus pass to get me back to the shelter and arrived, very sore, and tried to present the note to staff.

I was told that only my regular doctor or management could arrange a rest bed. I was told management would not be in until Tuesday because of the holiday and I was SOL for getting the rest bed I needed.

I called my doctor's office, got their answering service, and got a callback from the doctor on call (not my regular doctor), who apparently did not know the procedure for obtaining a rest bed, but she did talk to staff at SWSC, who arranged for me to have a bed until the proper paperwork could be filed.

Seems like a lot of work to do for someone who's already injured. Gotta be a better way.

So last night I did sleep in an actual bed, on the side that was injured because I read that was the right thing to do. I was awoken at midnight by someone having a conversation in his sleep, but managed to get back to sleep and get a fair night in.

This morning my chest still hurts, but I also find pain in my right shoulder, which I thought had escaped additional injury. I don't think it's any worse than it was, just more aggravated.

But last night I started thinking that my body is staging a revolution, bent on wresting control of my body from me. Maybe it's just tired of being tired, of sleeping on the floor, of walking altogether too many places in the last couple of weeks, laden with a 50 lb backpack the whole way.

I don't blame it. But I think I'd like to maintain control of my body for a little bit longer. At least getting some bed rest means I won't be carrying the backpack everywhere.

So, while a coup d'etat rages in my body, my mind is in control, and with luck, will remain so.

Have a happy Labor Day!