Nov 19, 2006

JUST BITCHIN'






















My lot in life. The dice rolled and I was given a life of pain, 29 years and counting.

Yea, 29 years ago, I was hit head on by the first car and then broad sided by a second car. They were drag racing, 17 and 18 year old kids. I was only 18 myself and it changed the course of my life. To start with, they only had high risk insurance, a $20,000 policy max. Out of that, a 1/3 went to the attorney. I started Dixie Trucking with part of that money, my first dump truck.
But my injuries were pretty bad and that was years later. They were going to put me in a nursing home, my head injuries were bad and I had terrible short term memory. My left elbow was shattered and they used 4 medium screws and a large screw with an allen head tip to fix it. My knees were both dislocated, my left lower rib was cracked in half. My face had "Spider Web" fractures. It was broken but intact. Massive head trauma and my forehead was out past my nose. They had to drain the blood from behind my eye which is messed up every since. I dealt with the pain all these years. I was never ever able to straighten my arm again but developed different muscles and used it and nobody knew the difference, nobody can tell unless I tell them. That was 1977.
I started having these terrible headaches in 1988, the kind that you wish you were dead. If it hadn't been for my children, I probably would have put the gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger. But as I felt the cold steel on my lips, the thought of leaving my children alone and a true sense of selfishness came over me. One time, when it was too much to bear and my husband yelled at me to "fucking do something" I went to a hospital in Richmond, Va. for something to alleviate the pain. This was a freak discovery but they found I had only a light, barely there pulse in my left arm. If they raised my arm, I had no pulse. Emergency tests, Nazi shit was done to test the nerves all the way up to my neck and they discovered I needed immediate surgery. They found an abnormally large extra rib attached to the first rib. In between the two ribs, was my carotid artery and the nerve, pinched and pressing on my lung which had grown into it. I was scheduled for immediate surgery. It was four hours of surgery with four Doctors. They removed the two ribs and a piece of lung with it. They moved the nerve and artery, all through my neck. I've never been right since and this set into place, a self-medication program when on the third day, after surgery, they handed me two Tylenol #3's and sent me on my way. I was so sick and in so much pain, I called my Doctor for something. He called me in One (1) Percocet. I've hated Doctors every since. Not long after, my husband had to have surgery and his Doctor had a Prescription pad in every exam room. I began to help myself and forge prescriptions. Later on I would photocopy them and I forged one every day from '89 t0 98. I got busted in '97 and by the time the courts caught up they sent me to rehab and posted my picture in every Pharmacy in three states. My intention was to stay clean, after rehab but along came a headache from hell and I was offered Heroin. I was hooked from that minute on. It was a miracle drug, in my mind. Little did I know the road it would take me down.
I've been clean from Heroin since June 24,1998 when I went to jail again and kicked it. But it ain't been easy when it's pain that motivates me and Doctors don't want to help you. They recently told me that I have the arm of an 85 year old woman. It is riddled with arthritis and there's no cartlidge left, it's bone on bone. He hands me 30 Vicodan 5.5 and sends me on my way. It starts the ball rolling again.
You try to buck up, stand down on it. I think sometimes it makes me mean, even when I don't mean to be that way. I have taken my pain out on many, who probably only half deserved it or not at all. This is my life, that's it and that's all.

2 comments:

Miranda said...

Wow, you have had a rough life. I don't know how much more of your book you've written, but Im sure if you wrote your life story, it would sell. That may sound morbid, but...people read stuff like that. It would be theraputic for you to write it, you are a good writer. Just some food for thought.

Babsbitchin said...

miranda, as I started writing my book, I got real nasty, even my own sister said she didn't like me when I was writing it. I stopped. But I'm in the beginning of rounding off a deal with an English major who wants to write it. That might be good. We'll see. Thanks for reading my craziness and I mean that!