Unless I need to be downtown, most of my days start off slow, gain a little momentum, then fizzle out by 4:00pm. By slow, if I’m out of the shower by 9:30 I’m doing good.
The first dose of hydromorphone starts the day, hormones and a pill to keep all the other pills from destroying my stomach. The hydromorphone numbs the pain enough to get a hot shower, walk and feed the dogs, maybe remember to eat, then run errands.
Unless I’m nauseated from kidney stones that is, then the day is a write off. The stones are just starting. It just builds up for months as they get bigger I guess.
But today wasn’t bad, another night of 4 hours sleep, restless and restless legs. The first 2 hours came from 9:00 -11:00 pm, the second 2 from 4:00 – 6:00 am. It still took me 2 ½ hours to get moving, but hey, I was on track with my day.
Before jumping in the shower I was smart enough to throw the dog’s fresh meat for the day in the oven, thighs and breasts. I turned the stove off at 9:30 am, took the dogs for a walk, shredded the chicken and fed the beasts all by 10:30 am. Right on time to head to the women’s shelter with clothes from my wife.
I’d known the people at the shelter for several years as I had volunteered to haul the bounty from her annual food and toy drive up to their location. It was usually 3 trips worth in my SUV.
The shelter tries to meet the needs of battered and abused women, some with children, some without. Some 9 months pregnant, expecting any day without a penny to their name. The organization has apartments on site, and numerous other apartments and such scattered throughout the city.
Even the address is kept secret.
It’s a very secure place for numerous reasons, and they generally don’t let men in through the second set of locked doors. Understandably, they don’t hesitate to call the police.
But they know me, and a simple call to the Assistant Director when I arrived brought her and a helper out to cart everything in. The Facility Director was there at the same time. They made a point of coming out to meet me after all these years, to say thank you for the long standing generous support.
When asked how I was doing, I should have smiled and said great! But that’s not me is it?
I told them of my recent not quite friendly retirement, of my fight with PTSD. About being Queer – although I used the term transgendered and about this blog to find meaning, sense of self, purpose, and hopefully heal.
Their immediate acceptance and support through very kind words, didn’t really shock me. But I was overcome with emotion in their sincere comments, understanding and acceptance.
I felt so relieved, they understood, they got it.
They then proceeded to tell me their shelter was one of the few that mentions the trans community, and probably the only one that walked the walk and actually offers shelter and support services to Queer folk.
We talked a bit more, I made the promise to come back several more times, and said our goodbyes.
As I turned to go, the Director said “If we can ever help you, you are welcome here 24 hours a day, you know where we are.”
That brought tears as I walked away. But I still turned and said “Thank you for listening” and they both smiled back.
I stood by the car, wiping tears and trying not to lose it. Trying to get myself composed enough to drive.
Truly touched, thinking how wonderful the day had become.