As those in the communnity may, or may not know, q and I both devloped Myotonic Muscular Dystrophy when we reached adulthood. My father and sister were also affected,so we needed some help around the house. My sisters ex-boyfriend would help out sometimes,but only because, in his twisted mind, it would excuse him from some irresonsible act he had already decided to do, so, through the Long Island Center for Independant Living (L.I.C.I.L.), we got an aide, Cheron. She made our lunches, cooked our dinners, did laundry, housework, ran errands, and was our friend. Hired origonally for our father, she stayed on after he died, and took care of the three of us. Unfortunately, she fell ill soon after that, and could not return to work. By this time, in large part due to my own stupidity, I had re-financed the house, to boost the boyfriend's sagging internet business, and also to consolidate bills, which were my responsibility. Kevin, the slimeball ex, smelling easy money, said he would register with L.I.C.I.L., and he'd take over as aide. I remimnded him of the fact that he's an alcholic, but he gave me lip service about how he would give all that up, and how he loved us, and the house (Which, by the way, he promised to pay off the mortgage on, which he did by borowing it from me, then saying he had to re-finance again to pay me back). of course, being way too trusting, and always turning the other cheek, I did it. Four times. The pattern repeating. Meanwhile, he was still drinking, doing and dealing drugs, bringing his drunk and druggie friends to the house against my clearly stated rules. He was bigger, stronger, and able bodied, and although any physical abuse would have landed him in jail, we would never know what he might do after going on a binge. Add to that the fact that he was at the house maybe three times a week, never bathed or shaved us, and borrowing up to a thousand dollars a week from me, which I just knew was goimg for cocaine, and then bringing guns into the house, things were out of control, and I had to get us out of there. I called adult protective services, but it was Sunday, and there was no answer, so I faked a non-responsive panic attack, and was admitteed to the hospital, where I knew I could contact social services, and A.P.S., and get us into a nice, safe institution. Q was easy to convince, since he landed in the hospital one week later, also faking a panic attack. My sister, on the other hand, was a problem. It was evident that, either by foreclosure or selling, we were not going back to that house ever again. My sister could not except that, nor could she stay away from her co-dependant relationship with Kevin, even though she was also now in the hospital, and Kevin was in jail. Once we were all here, in Glengariff, My sister decided to break her order of protection againt Kevin (Q and I stll have ours), by communicating with him, and contacting the D.A., and trying to get the charges dropped. We begged her, the doctors and nurses begged her to stop, but she never listened. Finally, because Kevin is a threat, and my sister was trying to spring him, and he knew where she was, she was discharged on the grounds that Kevin could prove to be a theat to her, the other patients, and the staff. She returned to the house, found out that the wonderful job Kevin had lined up was just another lied, and, since niether of them had any money, she surrendered herself to A.P.S., and tried to get back here, but they wouldn't take her, so they had to send her to a nursing home in Hempstead, which ain't exactly around the corner. I tried. I tried so hard. She was here, had a bed, roof over her head, three meals a day, health care. Sometimes it just breaks my heart, but no one could ever tell her what to do. I hope her facility is as good as this one, which is rated in the top 5% in the country. And, needless to say, q and I are...um..."making our presence known", you might say. That's the story so far. And for Tkrexx
"Mr Bailey, do you know where we might find a vouluteer?"
"Yes, sir. Mr Sulu has been saying he needs a vacation!"
Heh, heh, he
We're back!
"Mr Bailey, do you know where we might find a vouluteer?"
"Yes, sir. Mr Sulu has been saying he needs a vacation!"
Heh, heh, he
We're back!
