The Last Few Days...

 It rained today...I feel like this is such a rare occurrence in Southern California that it warrants a celebration of sorts. My mom says when I'm typing on my laptop it sort of sounds like it's raining. I wonder how she would feel if I started typing on a typewriter. That would probably sound like it's hailing, right?

But yeah, it rained today near my house. I can't say whether or how much it rained in the other parts of my small city, though I would assume it rained in other parts as well. I love the rain, and I love the wintertime, which basically is a premonition of rain of sorts in Southern California. When I say Southern California, I mean slightly north of LA proper, like an hour northwest I think. If LA was the chin of California, and San Diego/Baja California the neck, I would live on the tip of the nose. Not me trying to describe where I'm living without being too specific. 

But in order to celebrate the rain, and the fact I got 68 subscribers on YouTube (yay!!!), I went to Starbucks with mi padre, and he actually. paid. You guys, he never pays. He even made me pay for my passport photos yesterday, which were surprisingly expensive (like $20 about). I got a venti matcha latte, which is like $7 in this economy...en cette economie...Is that the correct French? Est-ce ça la francaise correctemente? Idk you guys, I took French all throughout high school and college, and I barely learned anything. Time to get back on my Duolingo teas. But is Duolingo even that helpful, besides picking up some basic words? How does a human actually cognitively pick up a language? That is a question which has always fascinated me. And even though I majored in Applied Linguistics in college, I still unfortunately do not know the answer to that question. 

I feel like for the time being I'm going to stop posting like my novel on here. For a couple reasons. The first is that apparently if you want to submit your book to a literary agent (which is what I want to do--get published!!), you can't have like half your book online already, so I took down parts 2-4. Which isn't that much, but still. Another reason is because in like manifestationtwt you aren't supposed to tell people what you are doing until you are finished with it or something!!! Like you have to finish the product and then tell people about it? I don't know. I feel like I had a third reason, but I forgot. If I think of it later, I'll bring it up or re-edit this paragraph. I suppose I also wouldn't want anyone to steal my idea/my writing, though I don't know who would do that...but yeah.

But so anywayss, on the last couple of days tea. Let me think...Yesterday, I went to physical therapy for the first time (in years). So, basically like the first time functionally. It was tea. The main color way in the physical therapy place was like olive green and it was giving matcha. I loved the vibe of the place. I'm going to include some clips of it in my YouTube channel. 

But basically, when I got there, in my wheelchair with my dad, I checked in, and then I had an evaluation with my physical therapist, Juliette. She did some tests to see how strong different parts of my legs were, given the fact that I had spinal cord damage. C'est dommage. Merde. Lol. This is getting to be kind of like my public diary. When did the shift from the public lexicon go from "diary" to "journal"? It seems like everywhere today it's "journal" this, "journal" that. It's just one of those psy-ops, chile...But I feel like I'm still contributing to the culture in some way, by posting an online diary, even if it IS somewhat low-effort...In my experience, in writing there's always those nuggets of wisdom, those few worthwhile bits that make reading a piece of writing worth it. But maybe that's just me. 

But basically, I felt inspired to write about Juliette because when she did my evaluation, I almost started crying, y'all. I was so emotional. And am. I felt like maybe it was the touch of another human which sent me off the brink. I dunno, I tend to feel like a good physical therapist's touch is magical. And this is speaking from experiential tea, because I've seen good physical therapists, and bad physical therapists. I truly feel like a good physical therapist's touch can be healing in itself, apart from the actual exercises that they may have you do. The right touch can send a sense of healing into your soul...

This sort of reminds me of the time I spent in the physical rehabilitation hospital. I think I discussed that time partially here. I remember when I was at that hospital, I remember talking a lot to all the physical and occupational therapists, and a few nurses. I remember I was telling anyone who would listen the story of my ex, who was partially the reason for my accident. I still remember however the first physical therapist who tried to touch me really triggered me and I remember I yelled at him lol. He said "please don't judge me", and then I said something to the effect of, "Perception is immediate!! Even if I didn't want to judge you, I wouldn't be able to stop it, because judgement is automatic!!!" or summat. The poor physical therapist. 

And then the occupational therapist I saw that afternoon was really nice to me. I think I mentioned he was a shorter Taiwanese dude in my previous blogpost. He helped me to take a shower, which is something that occupational therapists do. And when I shit on the floor, because I didn't have control of my bowels, He scooped it up from the floor, laughed, and said "Look, a surprise!!" 😂 I still remember that moment, and oop-I just remembered his name!! It was Craig. It appears my hard drive is whirring to life lol. His name was Craig. I was gonna b like, "I still remember that moment, though I don't remember his name", but then I remembered his name!!! Funny how that happens. 

As I'm writing this, I'm listening to this album I made while I was in. the. hospital. Lol like I literally produced and recorded this in the designated smoking area of the physical rehabilitation hospital. It was teaaaa. Sometimes I really do miss smoking. It was really such a communal act. I felt like the designated smoking area at the physical rehabilitation hospital in downtown Las Vegas was like a secret community lol. We really smoked so many cigarettes there. And I did it with so many people, too. Black, white, Latina, male, female...We were all smoking cigarettes in that designated smoking area. It was definitely unhealthy though. And I promised Craig I would quit smoking. I'm sure all the hospital staff knew how obsessed I was with smoking (and my ex) by the end of my stay there. 

However, I do think the smoking caused some bad things to happen. It wasn't all smoke, mirrors, and rainbows. There was a time when I was screaming, literally yelling at the nurse manager, the security guard, and the other hospital staff, and they were almost gonna to throw me out of the hospital. Literally. And I think that was also the reason my insurance got cut short and I had to leave the physical rehabilitation hospital early, before I relearned how to walk, was because of that screaming incident. 

But I really loved that hospital actually. I feel like I'm writing this more for my own memory than anything else or for anyone else. There was another physical therapist, Fred, who I saw after the first physical therapist I cussed out, and I think we just clicked. Sometimes, I would think the reason why we clicked was because he was similar to me, Asian (Philipino, I think) and wearing glasses and slightly on the shorter side. We were basically kind of built the same and we both wore glasses. And I just remember sitting outside in the non-smoking area and drinking a coffee machine cappuccino and listening to the Viva la Vida album by Coldplay in the cold winter morning sun. <3

I can't tell if I was clouded by the nicotine from the cigarette smoke, or if I just always get nostalgic about things three years after the fact, but I just have really good memories of that hospital. The atmosphere and people were just so nice. And I would DoorDash a pack of cigarettes like every day with my accounting coin. 

But the major thing to come out of that time was, I am now disabled (temporarily or permanently, I'm not entirely sure). That's something that's sort of been bothering me the past couple of days, and the reason why I actually wanted to write this blogpost. I vaguely remember "disability studies" being a thing when I was going to Williams. It's a whole scholarly discipline to study disabilities and their effect on people!!! As a person living with a disability, and especially being in a wheelchair, I can tell you that being in a wheelchair really. fucking. sucks. There really isn't that much to it. It really sucks.

And I wish I never jumped off the freeway bridge in Las Vegas. It was highkey the stupidest decision I've ever made in my life, obviously...And now I went to the urologist today and he says I can't keep pushing out my urine like I have been doing and I need to use the catheter to pee. And it's really just so inconvenient and I really don't want to lol. But that's what the doctor says I have to do, so I guess I have to do it. 

So, God gon' give and God gon' take, I guess. The physical therapy appointment was a positive experience for me, though the urology appointment wasn't exactly the best. The physical therapist gave me some hope. She said that the nerves that I damaged can grow back, though slowly, because my spinal cord wasn't completely severed. Hopefully maybe this means my pee can get resolved in the future as well? Praying...

So yeah, that's be-asically what's occurred over the past couple of days. Thanks for reading and paying attention to me. Until next time x.