Massacre

The Sutherland Springs, Texas, massacre happened yesterday. Not sure if "massacre" is technically the right term, but I think it fits.

The definition for massacre is to violently kill a large number of people. It's a slaughter. How many people constitute a large number? If I recall correctly, four people and above constitutes a mass shooting in the USA.

From what I've read, a mass murder or shooting is only terrorism if the motive is political. I really don't care what one calls it. Regardless of the motive, the outcome is the same.

This morning I looked up how to buy a gun in the USA. There is a national standard application form which takes a matter of minutes to fill out and a few minutes to approve via computer, if the person passes the muster. Depending on where and how one buys a gun, the application may not be required.

A few fucking minutes for approval. It took Paddock what...fifteen minutes to produce his carnage in Las Vegas? It took I don't know how many minutes for Devin Patrick Kelley.

If I understand correctly, there isn't a national registration procedure for tracking the number of weapons and ammunition a person purchases, at least across state lines. A crazed person can amass an arsenal in a short amount of time, like Steve Paddock did.

These mass shootings that kill a large number of people are carried out with weapons that can shoot many rounds in quick succession. Or, in Paddock's case, again if I recall correctly, he adapted his weapons to shoot rapidly.

Why oh why does someone need these rapid-fire rifles? Though I lean toward outlawing them for civilians, which probably won't happen, it seems that at least laws could be enacted to vet buyers better. Make sales more strict. And track a purchaser's number of guns and ammunition purchased. And a two-week (or something) wait time wouldn't be a bad idea.

Is that too much government interference? When will it not be too much? At what point is too much, too much?

With stricter laws would the bad guys still get their hands on these killing machines? Yes, some would. But maybe allowing a period of time before a person can get their fingers on the triggers will allow space to catch them before they exact their terror and carnage.

I think of it like door locks. Will a burglar still find a way in if he really wants in? Yes, probably so. But it takes longer with a lock. In that time space, the burglar might get caught or at least scared away.

Like the rest of the US, I'm beyond fed up with these killings. I'm also fed up with the hypocritical standard "thoughts and prayers and condolences" from the powers that be who then do not seriously consider and pass legislation to help and try to curb this horrific trend.

I watched Trump's speech in response to the Texas slaughter. No emotion. He could at least have shown a hint of sadness or outrage. But then again, he's probably not capable, at least with empathy

Some might say, "Well, he shouldn't show emotion because he needs to show strength for the nation."

So showing emotions is the opposite of strength?  I disagree.

However Trump did display outrage (at least via his Tweets) with the NYC car killer, an Islamic extremist, who killed at least eight people last week. What about Vegas? What about Texas? Where is the outrage?

And what about Puerto Rico? When I watched his response to that tragic natural disaster, it was like watching a person void of heart.

~*~

On 11/07 I posted the following as a response comment on this blog entry.

I know hardly anything about guns. And I'm not up to speed on the gun debate. But these rifles that can fire off hundreds of rounds per minute...it just makes no sense to me that they are legal.

And yes, I realize that criminals will get their hands on them illegally. That's what criminals do.

I wonder how many of these mass murderers bought their killing machines legally or illegally?
I wonder how many resources the FBI, etc, has to keep watch on illegal fire arm sales?
I wonder how often they intercept and catch illegal dealers?

I did read this morning [11/07] that, at least in some states, there is a wait time to buy guns like AK-47s which can fire 600(!) rounds per minute.

I read that Kelley fired at least 450 rounds and had 15 clips. 450 rounds! I just don't get why these killing machines are legal. What purpose do they serve other than combat?

I read this article later in the morning on 11/07: What Explains U.S. Mass Shootings? International Comparisons Suggest an Answer

I read this article in the evening on 11/07: Gun Rights: Former U.S. Serviceman Calls for Ban on Semi-automatic Weapons

Breathing denial

I'm irritable and I'm tired.
The two go hand-in-hand.
"Wearied" is probably a better description than "tired."

I'm tired of the continual battle for my body and mind to function "normally."

I'm tired of not being able to set long-term goals.
Well, I could set them.
But then I set myself up for disappointment and feelings of failure.
Not a healthy place for me.
So I set short-term goals of daily simple tasks that most would not think of as "goals."

I'm tired of living in this incessant hamster wheel.
Yet reminding myself to be thankful for all the good I have.

I'm tired of my home being in disarray.
Of not being able to organize so very much that needs attention.
Of not being able to do household chores.
Of not... on and on.

My tired-of list could go on.
It's a lengthy one.
All those tireds added together equal weary.

Why do I find it so hard to accept my disability?
I know why, at least some of the reasons.
One of the biggest is probably just plain, old denial.

~*~

I hang on with a thread of hope that someday I can backpack again.

I envision the trail.
I feel the struggle to hike with forty pounds on my back, a good struggle, a struggle with reward at the end.
The reward of accomplishment.
I set up my tent and make my supper.
I hang my food bag in a limb high enough to be away from bears.
I sit, a lone human on a log, and think about the eyes that see me, eyes of forest critters.

And then I remind myself,

There's no way you'll ever be able to backpack again. Right now you envision that hope because you feel relief from your epidural. Because you are comfortable, at the moment, driving, nestled within the Blue Ridge Mountains. But you know damn well this relief is temporary. You know what awaits as the relief subsides. Even with the current relief, the reality of your disability will be evident today once you stop and get out of the vehicle.

And then I remember the eighteen years I suffered with severe asthma.
The years I suffered with sinus polyps and complete blockage; literally.
I could not breathe through my nose, for years.
And I had no sense of smell for over a decade.
There were lots of other symptoms too, which subsided in the following years after the asthma and polyps retreated.

And I tell myself,

In those days you envisioned yourself as a deer, able to run. Envisioning, even as you wheezed, gasping for air. And, eventually, you got well from all those symptoms. Some might say it's a miracle that you gained wellness. Not to mention that you were able to get your high levels of mercury down and able to get off long-term steroids. 

But it wasn't a miracle.
It was hard damn work, involving study, various medical and wellness approaches, soul searching, lots of journaling, endurance, science, a good integrative medical doctor, and more.

And I say to myself,

But you had youth on your side then. You got sick at 22. You were 39 when you suffered your last series of asthma attacks and your last hospitalization for asthma. You're now less than 2 years shy of 60. And you've added lots of wear and tear in the last seven years, probably accelerating the aging process. 

And I counter with,

When you got your high mercury levels down, the asthma abated. Maybe, maybe as you get your cobalt and chromium levels down, nerve damage will abate. But it will probably take years to gain back the muscle you've lost, if you can regain it. You don't have youth on your side now. 

~*~

Yes, there is denial.
Along with a dose of hopeful reality.

I'll probably breathe denial until my last breath, when I'll exhale the hopeful reality.

I wonder,

Is one's last breath an inhale, or an exhale?

I wrote a poem...

I posted it on my poetry blog, here: Tunnels.

At the time I penned the poem I was going through my "rougher" days that are typical before my routine neck injections or epidurals. I say "rougher" because most of my days are pretty rough compared to the average life of a relatively healthy 58-year old.

Does that make me sound like a "victim?"
Well so what.
I really don't care.

If I had cameras set up around my house I think folks would be astounded at the struggle it's been to live with widespread nerve damage.

There were a couple years where I literally couldn't lift my arms to comb my hair, except when I'd get relief for a few weeks after my epidurals and a couple weeks after my neck shots. Even then, I was limited and had to calculate my moves so as not to exasperate my biceps causing them to become more lame.

So how did I comb my hair? I would take my left arm and hand and place it under my right elbow. Using my left arm I'd lift my right arm and prop my right elbow on the bathroom counter. I'd bend at my waist and lean right to get low enough to prop my right elbow. Then I'd lean my head over to the right and clumsily comb my hair on the right side of my head. I'd then repeat similar (but with a slightly different procedure) for the left side.

And that was just combing my damn hair. Imagine all the other tasks one does in a day - bathing, dressing, feeding oneself, drinking from a glass (I always had to use a straw), etc. But, I could drive because there was no lifting involved. I could care for pets because, typically, minimal lifting was involved.

I could go on about more limitations, inabilities, and symptoms and how I barely managed the dysfunction in my legs, feet, ankles, fingers, hands, wrists, arms, neck, back, jaws, and swallowing - the pain, heaviness, weakness, slowness, tingling, numbness, bizarre sensations, lumps, fatigue, dizziness, brain-fog, gut issues, migraines, and blah, blah, blah. Not to mention the emotional turmoil.

Does that again make me sound like a victim?
Or that I think my suffering is unique among mammals?
If so, again, I really don't care.

Even though steroids (especially the injections) have provided significant temporary relief, lasting improvement didn't begin until after I added Charlotte's Web Hemp Extract to my daily regimen. That improvement has happened incrementally and plateaued at times, but it has been significant in comparison with the terrifying (and it was terrifying) direction I was headed prior to the Charlotte's Web.

I am well aware that others have it worse than I.
I helped care for my quadriplegic father for almost thirteen years.
Nerve damage doesn't get much worse than that.

~*~

Anyway, I wrote Tunnels on Monday, October 30th. I received my routine neck shots late that afternoon and got some relief by Monday night and into Tuesday. I was down again on Wednesday.

At my appointment on Monday, the neurologist and I discussed trying a new pattern with my daily maintenance prednisone to see if that will help with the almost constant fatigue and weakness since my August 30, 2016, revision hip replacement surgery [to replace my faulty hip implant that was leeching cobalt and chromium (which can contribute and even cause nerve damage)]. So I started that new prednisone pattern on Thursday, November 2nd. We'll see how it works for the long run in the coming weeks.

I realized in some recent communication with a good friend, that some folks may not realize that my neck shots are not for my neck, specifically. The steroid neck shots work systemically, similar to the steroid lumbar epidurals. But the neck shots don't work as deeply and don't last as long as the epidurals. [My nerve roots are swollen in my spinal lumbar and cervical (neck) regions causing symptoms in my upper and lower body, and in between. Because the nerve root inflammation is at my neck and lumbar regions, those are the points where I get my injections.]

The neurologist added the neck shots at some point after I began receiving epidurals in December, 2013. I would receive my neck injections the same day as my lumbar epidural. Then, later within a year or so, we added neck shots at the half-way point between my every twelve-week epidurals. We added the half-way neck shots to provide a steroid boost so I wouldn't have to increase my daily prednisone milligram dosage as high or for as long between epidurals. Since steroid injections have less side effects than oral steroids, the thinking is I can maybe hold at bay some of the prednisone side effects.

Since epidurals give more relief than the neck injections, why not just get another epidural at the half-way point? Because medical protocol/insurance only allows epidurals every twelve weeks, which is probably a good thing. I doubt puncturing the outer layer of the spinal cord every six weeks is good for a body. Not that every twelve weeks is "healthy" either, but it keeps me mobile.

My hands, neck, arms, jaws, widespread pain, and dizziness have improved since my August, 2016, surgery indicating that metal levels are coming down and that they may be playing a role in contributing to the nerve damage. The levels will be checked at the end of November. Then we'll know how much they have decreased since explanting the defective hip implant and replacing it with a (supposedly and hopefully) non-faulty one.

Maybe that's too much information.
I know it's repetitive of what I've already written about so many times.
But perhaps the few details above provide another glimpse in living with and managing polyradiculitis and widespread nerve damage, for any readers interested in such.

And to some, maybe it sounds like I'm stuck in a type of victimhood.
But I really don't care, at this point.
I get tired of bottling it up.
I get tired of trying to put my best foot forward.

My next epidural is December 11. It will be my 19th epidural since December, 2013.