I opened up my email this morning hoping. It was driving me crazy waiting for the library to open.
There was nothing.
No word on my puppy. No word on help for me. Just nothing.
Except a message from Flickr. Mare has been going out of her way. She tried to take over the Flickr account? I guess she wanted to remove all the pictures of my puppy. I don't know.
She turned off my mobile phone yesterday. Mare suddenly has become a whiz at the internet.
Mare plans to remove any memory of me from the planet. I don't understand it. I'm used to not understanding things.
Our last "communication" was her refusing to return my computer or my clothes or anything really. I guess she thinks I need to be punished more. I'm genuinely terrified of her threat to put my puppy in the pound.
It worries me that I can't match her rage. I'm being victimized here and I keep feeling sorry for Mare. Stupid of me. I just know that all that hatred and trying to hurt people becomes habit. And that it is just no good.
I know rage hurts. Anger hurts the weilder more than the victim sometimes. I don't hate Mare. Not yet. Probably not ever.
I still wonder why she wanted my flickr account.
I'm not doing well.
They threw out these two guys from the homeless shelter. They werte loud but, aside from being alcoholics, they were harmless and they were funny. Not good funny but they told jokes and acted like fools. Never with malice. The spastic energy enlivened me.
With them gone the place feels emptier, more threatening. Sadder now than it should be even for what it is.
My heart attack pain isn't getting better. I've gone through most of my bottle of nitroglycerin spray. Where they drained the hemmoragh the lump has receded, become not a purple blare but just an ugly dark bruise. Unfortunately, for me anyway, its still bleeding. The purple lumps has moved to a new location, down the side. It looked at me angrily this morning.
I just want my puppy safe now. I want her not to be harmed by Mare's friends. I want my puppy to not ever be afraid.
I owe a huge debt to the breed and to the race. A debt I can never hope to repay. And I love my puppy. I find myself crying over her. Crying in the rain.
I can cry for my puppy. I can cry for my friends and I can cry for the children. I can't cry for myself. That's not right. Crying for others is crying for myself. I only wish I was better at it.
When I got to see my puppy for the last time she was so happy to see me she forgot to be angry at me. She just wanted me to be with her. She even went and let Mare pet her. Mare doesn't understand my puppy. She glared at me triumphantly. Mare said, "See, she loves me more than she does you."
What I saw was my puppy saying "don't go, I'll even be nice to the lady. Don't leave me alone."
I know my puppy.
Last night I thought about injecting all my insulin into me at once. I'm not normally a very suicidal type. I figured it probably wouldn't kill me. I'd wake up anyway and just be really thirsty or something.
I can't do anything until my puppy is safe.
I don't know who to ask for help. I don't know who I feel comfortable in bothering and who I feel would not be pained if they needed to reject me. Its important to me that people feel free and comfortable to say no. I object to control. I object to guilt.
With my health I might not need to be suicidal. Things could be planned out already.

Pretty bad day yesterday.
It rained hard most of the day, which is not great when you have no dry place to watch it from. I've always felt that steel gray sky and driving rainstorms are the harbingers of the greatest miracles or the most tremendous tragedies. Yesterday didn't qualify for either but it was still a rough day for me.
Firstly there are an overwhelming amount of comments of the site here. 1671 right now. A lot, maybe most, are typical spam. Some are very nice. Lets face it, you know that even in the best of times I'll never be able to get through them.
Some appear to have been published. I don't know how or why, unless for some reason the system broke down, or the script just messed up. I'm not singleing any of them out or anything.
One theme that runs through my scan of them seems to be, "David, you're not the stupidest guy in the world how did you get yourself into the stupidest situation in the world?"
It was easy.
I've thought about some of the "signals" I got that I chose to ignore. The first one was pretty startling.
I was whining about my mobile phone a couple of years ago. Mare offered to get me a new phone. I demured and explained that mobiles in the US are hard wired to a network. You just can't go buy a phone and ask them to turn it on.
For some reason this hurt her feelings. It appeared she had already gotten a phone for me. She was so upset with me she smashed it and then took pictures of the smashed phone and sent them to me.
This concerned me for a lot of reasons. I liked Mare but . . . but really, I'm just a human being and human beings forget everything even the loudest danger signals.
Later Mare was upset with me. She had sent me flowers. A rather sweet gesture. I wrote to one of my kids that day and mentioned the gift.
I have the nasty bad habit of sticking pretty much to just one password. I forget that one often enough. I'm always handing my password out. Not intending it for email but for letting people see this or that.
Mare used the password to access all of my email accounts and to read them. She was hurt and angry about whatever I had written to my kid.
I was stunned that someone would go through my email!
For all I know people are going through my email accounts all the time and have just never bothered to call me on anything I've said.
I was pretty leery of this and told her so. Mare explained that we were so close that she felt we had no secrets. She was used to relationships where everything was out and open for each other to see.
She offered to give me the password to her email account. I don't think she ever understood that I had and still have no desire to read her or any friend's private correspondence.
I explained I was used to some privacy in all my relationships, not secrets but not being investigated either.
I was still thinking about this when Mare confided in me a secret of her past. Sexual child abuse. You know how I feel about that. One kid described it well, I get very "porky-piney" about kids getting hurt.
I liked Mare enough to want to support her. I believed her. All of my training and instincts are geared toward believing and protecting people who've been victimized in that terrible fashion.
I decided that going through my email accounts was but not fatal. My bigger mistake was in forgetting a rather cardinal rule. You can protect and love victims of child abuse but you can't be friends or more. That is probably the biggest error I made, forgetting that survivors have a lot of rampaging emotions, emotions they are entitled to but also that make it difficult for a relationship to thrive and succeed.
Those are 3 pretty big things to ignore. They're not flaws or faults but they are a pretty good indicator that things will be rockier and more difficult than things should be. As I now have pretty decent proof. For me its like a hardcore blood sport enthusiast getting involved with a board member of PETA. It doesn't mean anyone is wrong or more right. It just means that there are going to be . . . Issues.
My puppy's breeder wrote to give me her schedule of when she'd been willing to pick up my puppy. I'm grateful for that. I need to know my puppy is safe. I need that above all else.
Even though my puppy and I are seperated the reality of her being moved so far away hit me harder than I expected.
It felt like my life was a taut silver nylon thread that was stretching and threatening to explode in a haze of gray dust. Even though there is no doubt that this is the best way forward it hurt terribly to think of my puppy looking for me, waiting for me.
See my ex-friend was married before. She'd been embarrassed to tell me it was a second marriage. Her husband woukld hit the dogs. The little blind dog that I cherished so dearly, her husband would throw him out and let him wander the railroad tracks and the streets. She didn't like that he was mean to the dogs but she didn't divorce him or throw him out because of it. She divorced him over some religious concept that I had a hard time grasping. (When she was talking about me moving in with her she said sveral times that no matter how much she hated her husband she would never have thrown him out on the street, she would always give someone the time to set their life in order . . . unless they've had a heart attack or similar I guess. I'm allowed to be snarky. I'm old, sick and living on the street.)
That's why I was so worried. Not that Mare would hurt my puppy but that the next guy she moved in would.
Mare has still been texting me. I figured it was becauue we'd been in near constant contact every day for the past few years and that she was lonely and while she might not miss me she missed somebody.
I texted her about the breeder's (my puppy's gramma) schedule and the sadness I felt. Its tedious to reconstruct but it looks like someone else has moved in the house the day after Mare threw me out. Even though I knew she has the right and that its none of my business I was pretty well shocked. Things turned ugly. She made lots of threats, lots of accusations. You knew that would happen. People do that. I didn't do anything to turn it aside though. I'm probably more to blame than she is. I don't know if she meant the threats or not. Since I'm walking the streets 3 days after a heart attack there's pretty good reason to believe in her rage.
As soon as my puppy is safe I have to run as fast and as far as I can. My relationship with Mare is costing me relationships that I value as highly as I did her. It is stealing my health.
I'm scrabbling to come up with a plan. My first priority is protecting my puppy.
I don't think she is being visciously abused but she is being treated as an object and not as an animal with feelings, not as someone who might be confused and lost. I know she's looking for me.
This new library has an interesting feature. I don't get the internet for 1 hour but for 20 minutes. The difference is that I can have as many 20 minutes a day as I want (so long as I wait my turn and relinquish the computer after the 20 is up). The only problem with this is that you have to stand at the computer and I swear everything in this world has been designed for someone 3 to 4 inches shorter than me!

I got badly sunburned yesterday. Then I took a bad fall. Whacked myself on the noggin.
I was wall washing, like an epileptic drunk when I saw my eyes in a window. One dialated, the other a pin hole. I was pretty sure I was concussed. No blood so I soldiered on for a while before I called for an ambulance.
At the hospital they confirmed the concussion. No big deal except I wasn't allowed to sleep. The doc came and yelled on me about my health. He drained about 1,200 milliliters from my thigh. It was mostly blood and not fluid. For some reason I thought that was a good thing. I don't have any idea why I thought that. I do know draining it took a lot of the burning pain away.
I got a lecture about how I was risking my health by not following procedures after my heart "procedure". I felt like saying its not my fault but I just listened. I did point out I was taking all my meds, pretty much in the right way. I told the doc I'd do my best to follow orders. I think we both decided the other was an idiot.
T#hey did more heart x-rays and stuff then they released me. I thought I was going to get some chance to sleep but officially I was in Emergency and not in the hospital. That's a technicality I can barely understand.
It was an unfortunate ending to what seemed like a decent enough day.
I told you about the shouting homeless bike mechanic. There was an event, some sort of political rally, with free food. I was standing around irritated that there was no food there I could even consider eating, when I saw the mechanic pulling up on his bike with a guitar!
I asked him if he was there busquing. He gave me a great crazy man answer. "I don't busque! Do the birds in the trees busque? I make music! If you want to hear it that's fine by me. If you should have a little money fall out of your pocket that's okay too!"
He started to play and he was horrible. His guitar was a flat top that he'd strung with nylon. The tone was odd but interesting. His box was totally out of tune and the way he played it was . . . we'll call it the Richie Valen's bashing around technique.
He only had two chords, both clearly two he made up. A sort of Am7 at the top of the neck and a freaky CMajor he pled arounf the 11th fret. There were a whole lot of strings he didn't fret and, even with nylon, a whole lot of buzzing. It was a nightmarish sound. People were walking past him and laughing at the crazy man.
That made me mad.
I asked if I could tune the guitar up for him. (No, I am still terrible tuning guitars totally by ear - I still don't have perfect pitch.) He at first refused explaining that he'd been a musician for 40 years and yadda yadda yadda. Then he just handed the guitar to me.
I sat down and tuned the box pretty slack, looking to just do a whole drop note and tune it from an open D.
To try it out I started to strum out the song that had been bouncing in my head all day, The Rolling Stones, Chris Farlowe "Out of Time". Since I don't know the words it had a lot of da da dee verses, but always a strong chorus.
We actually got a little bit of a crowd and the Mechanic yelled at me, "Well, don't stop now!"
So I played the first song I could think of, "O Lucky Man". Which is a nice rhythm based number with cool lyrics to detract from my cramped hands and missed chords. Then I went straight into the Kinks, "Till The End of the Day". Which everybody knows so you don't have to play it too well.
People were tossing money so I played a song, an old Elvis tune, that I learned recently for my ex-friend. I think I do it pretty well and figured out easy ways to do the chord changes so my hands didn't suffer; "Home is Where the Heart Is".
The drugs make my tongue swell and give me terrible dry mouth. On this tune that didn't seem to make much difference, in fact the choking sound on the high notes actually sounded emotional, at least to my ear.
I ended my big come back with Dion's "Dip Drop". Its semi-obscure but cool, more guitar percussion than playing and it has a killer chorus that always gets people's heads bobbing.
After that I couldn't play any longer. Didn't matter the mechanic was stoked. He'd gathered up $8.40
He wanted to only give me forty cents! Because it was his guitar and I did break his G - String. I settled for a dollar.
Not so much in my heart or mind but my body is dwindling. I see little old ladies passing me on the street. I'm constantly dizzy, lost. The pain is sometimes overwhelming. People must think I'm forgein and that erk, ouch, damn are a major part of my alien vocabulary.
I don't want to die. I know that my life has been full. There's too much tragedy in it but when I think of my life I think of the smiles and the laughs. I remember the tasty waves. The days when it was 10 foot and the Santa Ana's kept the face flat and smooth.
I've won an awful lot. I've had more miracles than a born again Christian at seminary school.
I was always amazed when someone said they loved me. Amazed at how many people did. And amazed at how many people said, "I love you," not to try and get me to fall for them but because they really did love me.
I'm conceited but I never understood why anyone should ever love me.
I've been so lucky in that I love so many more. I didn't tell enough people how much I loved them. There's my advice. Tell them that you love them. Just tell them.
There's no one out there for me to really hate either. I have enemies, had them but I think I always won when it was important and lost only when it was in not responding to petty and vindictive rage.
There are so many things I only got to see once, but I did get to see them.
If it gets to the point where I can't go on anymore I found a place to lie down and pass over. A baseball field because no place is closer to heaven than a playing field, and no playing field more blessed than a baseball diamond.
Its an oklay field. There's no little league team there, all adults so i wouldn't have to consider the horrow of a kid stumbling across the homeless guy's corpse. Its only 270 feet down the right field line! I'd have beebn a pure power hitter if I'd played my home games there.
I walked the base paths. I imagined getting a blooper hit to run out a single. (Even in my fantasies I can't hit the curve) then I stole second, moved to third on a bad pick off attempt and then went home when the center fielder was slow in retrieving the ball.
None of it is locked up. The seats are covered and lying on the bottom row I'm certain you can't be seen from the street or even close up.
To pass over looking at a baseball diamond and remembering and imaging life there would be as good as I could ever hope.
I only worry about my puppy. I would love to see her again but that would be too selfish even for me. By now she must be settling into the fact that I'm not there. To see her and then leave would be cruel.
I don't know how long I can hold on. I have to write to the two jobs that are still silent. A yes or a no is needed by me! It would probably make a difference. I'm just tired.

It was funny. Yesterday I was standing against a wall when it suddenly felt like the wall was sliding away from my back, as if the building was falling. I spun around to see what was happening and it felt like I was, for the briefest moment, suspended in space. Skydivers will know what I mean, it was like that time when you forget the reality and your brain forgets to tell you what's really going on. You only know that you are flying.
The building wasn't falling down but I was. Its good I tried to turn around. I fell flat on my back instead of on my right shoulder. Even then the shoulder sents waves of incredible pain. I calmed it down by thinking how bad it could have been.
When I walk I feel my heart beating. My left leg burns from my hip to my knee and makes me walk in this sort of shuffle. My head hurt and my vision spins in and out of focus.
When I sit it feels like there's a dull wedge on my face, right between my eyes and a hundred pound hammer is trying to split my skull. My heart spins like a ratchet has sprung loose. It clatters like an old toy steam engine. My right leg throbs and my hands cramp into claws.
You'd think that would be enough revenge. I still don't know what the crime I committed was but gee.
Now my ex-friend is dragging my puppy to work with her. We tried this before. With me there and with an empty office my puppy was near panic. Some of it is her being silly. Some of it is her real fears and dislike of something new.
My ex-friend texted me her plans last night. I replied and asked her to please bring my puppy home if she started to panic. I asked. No reply. I begged. No reply.
I guess my puppy is being punished for my sake.
I spoke with my puppy's breeder. She's willing to drive and pick my puppy up and hold her until I can take her back. This is good and kind. I just miss my little dog. We always had adventures. Neither of us imagined this. My ex-friend can justify it by claiming she's training her up or something. I don't know. Maybe she wants to prove my puppy loves her more than my puppy loves me. I don't really know.
I feel guilty about this. You have no idea how guilty.
I found out that the rogue cop is just a jerk. Powerless to screw with me legally. It doesn't mean he won't screw with me illegally. I expect it.
He is trying to get me thrown out of the Shelter. Last night it was a given. The director came in early today and said that the cop didn't run the show and I could stay within their rules.
I have to think about it. Do I want to make trouble for them? Is it worth it for me to get hauled in for questioning? I spoke to my local lawyer and its sorted that I have nothing to fear, legally anyway.
My ex-friend said she's returning the football coaching gear the team gave me. I texted what she was going to tell them and she said it shouldn't matter to me. It does but, she's right, it only matters that I won't be there to help. Sad.
I don't talk much about the shelter. What's to say?
There's the ambulatory schizophrenics. They're pleasant enough. I find the sudden and then constant rocking back and forth a bit unnerving but not off putting. One fellow is pretty cool. He's a self taught bike mechanic and his work is excellent. He keeps bring home bike bits and ending up with a full working bike!
The way he works is fascinating. He shouts. "Mrs Obama has said that the greatest enemy of the American people is the front forks are bent but can be restaightened. AIG has split the derailer but I have another stop nut!" And on and on.
There's a few depressed people, a few party people and a few who you have to watch carefully. I have no idea what they think of me.
Last night was eeire quiet. After the wild weekend it was surprising. Last night was the night of hangovers and being out of cigarettes. There were a lot of fights, none that amounted to much though.
There were some shaky voiced plans and a few avowals of absitinence. I got asked several times if my med's were "text", "percadan", "oxycitain" etc. I told them they weren't and that some of them could kill them, which might be a rush but not one . . . only a couple of the woman seemed to be considering it.
This morning I was sitting on a bench when a young girl in her late 20's sat down next to me. She was attractive and more fashionably dressed than I'm used to seeing around here. I had half a bagle in my pocket and was feeding it to the birds.
She talked to me about birds and how they used to inspire her when she was "tiny". I tried to listen to her but my pain, grunts and mad thoughts and worry kept pulling my concentration away.
She stood up and said, "You're so nice to talk to. Thank you." She offered me her hand and told me her name. I don't remember it. All I remember is that I was glad I hadn't fallen so low as to be disappointed that she hadn't given the homeless guy a dollar.
I also think the only thing I said to her consisted of grunts and groans of pain. I have to remember that. It seems everyone I've talked to just wants me dead.
Three jobs are done and they are no. They can't get funding. The other two possible jobs remain silent.
15:05 - The dogs didn't go to work with my ex-friend. I feel better about thiss. Not much else. Took me 90 minutes to walk a mile today.

I'm feeling worse.
I am also convinced that Mare's cop is going to keep searching for some reason to arrest me. You'd think he'd have given up already but it doesn't look like it. Staying at the shelter would just be suicidal, I think.
Dying in jail does nothing for me. There's no romance to it. Especially since its going to be for something inane and made up, like my description matches something from 20 years ago or some such.
I found out that my friend is going to give up the foster dogs. I feel responsible for that. She seems to be rolling her life back to where it was before we became acquainted.
I don't think I would want to do that but you can't live for other people.
I keep thinking about why she wants to kill me. I still don't know why.
I wouldn't, would I. I'm sure she feels its justified. I had inklings, not that she wanted to kill me but that she was unhappy. Having a heart attack just gave her the opportunity.
A few days before I had the heart attack she told me she needed to see a psychiatrist. She felt miserable, confused and angry. She claimed it was unrelated to me other than she worried because I was in so much pain.
A couple of years ago one of her ex-husbands tried to kill her - he cut the bolts on the drive wheel of her car. I was surprised at how unshaken she was by that. I mean she had an accident when the wheel fell off at high speed but no one was hurt, but still she seemed unconcerned. She didn't even think that was worth pursuing.
Maybe I remind her of him. Maybe I remind her of her brother. Maybe she's been calmly waiting all her life for a chance like this. I don't know.
I still don't hate her and don't really think anyone else should either.
That's not me being saintly. That's me thinking there's a reason we just don't know.
Before I came in to check email the cop's Sergeant called me. He told me that everything the cop was doing was perfectly fine. The Seargeant said three times, "If something happened to me he's the man I'd want investigating." It bothered me he kept saying that.
I thought, but am not so ill as to say, "Yeah. If something happened to me I'd want someone intense who ignored all the rules and the law to get the result I want."
What I said was, "I believe you Sir."
I didn't want to complain, and I didn't want to file a complaint. I just wanted to know why this cop is persecuting me. The answer I got was, because he can.
I miss my puppy. I don't think I'm going to ever get to see her again. My poor little girl.
I don't accept that I deserve to die for whatever happened between my ex-friend and I. But to deprive my little puppy of her happiness and to put her at risk like this is just too terrible and its all my fault. I wasn't even able to protect her. I wasn't even able to keep her safe and with me. Now. My poor little girl.

It was a bad day yesterday. A day spent falling down a lot.
Only two of the spills were of a concern. I had to go to the pharmacy. A walk of about 3.5 miles. I made it in just over an hour. Not great speed but I felt pretty good about it. Felt good about making it at all.
Last time there I had to get the strips to measure my blood sugar. They gave me the wrong strips. Needed to be exchanged.
On leaving I fell down in front of Home Depot. I must have fallen on my face. The inside of my mouth is all cut up and the front teeth are loose. None knocked out though.
My face is a little puffy but not terrible bad. i don't look freakish or like some homeless guy who's been in a fight. That's important now and not just because of vanity.
Even with me weaving and stumbling I made the return trip in under 90 minutes.
With the strips I saw that my blood sugars were below 3. I'm not supposed to let them fall below 4. Not much I can do about that.
I fell again in the shelter. I was holding a coffee cup and it fell underneath me. No cuts or puncture wounds just serious embarassment. I also don't like looking weak. The worst part was yesterday I felt the spark of life starting to flicker. On Thursday the doc told my ex-friend and I that my heart could heal to 100%. There were things I had to do. These first two weeks were crucial. I was supposed to rest, exercise no more than 5 minutes a day. Keep my pulse down and then eat properly.
My blood pressure hasn't been under 170 since this odyessy started. My pulse rate has been floating around 100. Even though I've been able to take the drugs like I'm supposed to. As to eating properly . . .
For the past four years my goal has been to live just one more day than my puppy. I was, and am, horrified at the idea of her having to be in the world without me. She wouldn't be happy. She'd be miserable and I never want her to be anything other than completely happy. I owe her that much.
I'm changing my goal to surviving just one more minute than her. Sometimes reduced goals are the way to go.
I am not ready to die. I will fight to not die, at least not yet. For some reason I feel my body owes me at least that much. I hope I can cajole it into agreeing with me.
The pain has gotten worse. They gave me Tylenol 3. That's just Tylenol with codine added. It knocks out about 20% of the pain. That's enough to endure.
The hemmoraging continues. Its not pulsing and its not hurting. That's a good thing. Its not spreading as badly either so the seeping must be slowing down. The blood does appear to be spreading to my testicles. I don't think that signifies anything at all. Other than that its just getting darker shades of purple.
My job hunt is worrisome. I've gotten three so far, but all three are dependent on getting funding from the school board. With this economy that's far far from certain. The jobs are in North Carolina, Texas and New Mexico.
There another running a self storage facility in Colorado. That would be okay as I'd get accomodation and my puppy could live with me. I have to submit a resume, so I'll have to see what goes on there. I've started it and will work on it in the 33 minutes I have left on this computer. I can store the document on my iPod I think, using it as a flash drive.
Funny thing. I discovered that right now I can't walk and listen to music. I have the music on but I don't really here it. Its just noise that I seem to ignore.
Finally today started like I thought it would. The cops showed up. That's not completely true. Just the same cop I saw at my friends house showed up. He's run me for makes and warrants and couldn't find any reason to bust me so he's scrabbling around looking for some reasons to roust me. All he could do today was threaten to shoot me amongst other things. I'm sure he'd call it giving me a fair warning.
I can't be specific as to why he's carrying on what might well be a personal vendetta. It just confirms my opinion about cops. But that didn't need confirming anyway.
Yesterday my friend dropped off a care package at the shelter. It wasn't much but it will make life 10 to 15% easier. A small amount of money and some clean shirts and a pair of shoes. I'm grateful for that. I hope it means she's not dating the cop and siccing him on me.
I don't like posting without pictures. It takes away any sense of beauty.

I managed to cajole an extra 50 minutes at the library.
So, we get back from the doctor's and get the lecture. My6 ex-friend then explodes and throws me out.
Being an idiot I go and walk around for a couple hours in the rain. I walked about 5 miles in a straight line then start to feel faint and turn around.
I get back to her house and find she installed new security locks since I was there! She lets me in and I do my new medicine regime and then I pass out. I wake up in a panic, pretty disoriented. My puppy is at my feet and moves with me.
I'm moving around and my friend yells from the bedroom to get out of the house. I hug my puppy and take off, more than a bit lost and confused. I think about going back and asking what is going on but since most of what she's been saying to me has been hateful and not very true anyway I figure it would just be provocative.
I walk around all night and day, deciding to come back to her house, I'm in pretty bad shape but pleased with myself that I'm still alive and functioning.
I knock on the door and my friend lets me in. She tells me to gather up my stuff and get out. I tell her I understand that whatever it was we had is dead. I'd like to just relax and have time to get out. She also tells me that people have decided I'm not fit to take care of my dog and that she's sending it away Sunday so she can be given to a proper home.
That set me off. I called the person she was working out all these details with and said I was not giving my puppy up. It was hard for me to hear through the meds, the pain and the emotional upset. I got very upset and profoundly sad. The way I am right now I'm not fit to care for much of anything. Barely myself.
I was gathering up more meds and medical junk when I saw my friend get into her car and drive away. I figured she was going to go get alcohol. I felt relief and concern. Relief she was gone. I played with the dogs some and was heading out when she came walking up. I thought about dodging behind a tree and avoiding her and realized I wasn't 9 or 19 anymore, and as ridiculous as the scene was I should remain who I am.
I stepped up and asked, "Hey. Just leaving, you're car okay? Why you walking?"
She said, "Come here!"
I went to the gate and saw she'd come back with an ambulance. I almost turned around to leave the way I'd originaly planned but decided that would never work. So I trudged down there and listened as she bansheed at the EMS guys that I was dangerously insane and needed to be put into a psych hospital! RAH!
The cops showed up and she continued her rant. I said, "I'm not insane. I'm not a threat to myself or to others. I intend no harm to anyone," as cool voiced as I could.
She was dialing her mobile saying that the party who I was speaking to wanted to talk to them becasue she knew how crazy and dangerous I was.
The cops showed up about now. They asked why my friend went and got an ambulance. She said that I had refused to let her use her own phone!!
She back tracked and then said it was becasue I was on the phone and that I hadn't restrained her or anything of the sort.
It was madness and bickering. I still don't know what changed me from "the love of her life" at 11:15, into a "rat bastard" at 11:30.
To defuse the scene I agreed to go with the EMS guys to emergency. Just to get me away from there and the madness, hate and rage.
At the hospital my numbers were pretty bad. My EKG still showed the heart attack but no worse.
The leg was an issue. About a pint of blood had hemmoraghed. I'm not supposed to be walking at all, let alone for hours.
There was a counselor who told me to go to a homelss shelter about a mile and a half from the hospital. I went. They let me stay for a couple days.
Its not so bad. I was relived to be able to take off my clothes and lie down. I slept no better or worse than I have in the past month.
The homeless guys are okay. Not people I particularly would trust with a dollar but not revolting. In the morning one of them started a sing a long. I was pretty surprised that they did a pretty interesting version of the old novelty record, "They're Coming to take me Away Ha! HA!" Then That Mary Poppin's tune "Supercalifragilistic etc." It was as real as a dog's head on your knee.
I had breakfast. A big bowl of museli. I hadn't eaten anything for two days. I still hated it.
I took a shower. The hemmoragh is halfway to my knee but the pulse is strong and there's no real pain.
My friend sent me a text message. It said, "U can stay here till arrangements r made".
My instincts said it was a ploy. It was. I guess I was supposed to walk in there and then she'd call the cops and say I broke in or somet5hing and then she could have me arrested. I called the cops and then waited. She basically gave me the old cop restraining order. Where the cops make threats they shouldn't but where they mean well. I take it seriously.
If you don't hear from me on Monday its becasue my friend has had me arrested for some reason or other and I'm in jail.
I'm innocent. Honest guv.
My time is up!