well, I found out that the edit tool bar was not missing in general, it was just missing from that particular computer. It seems that the computer systems that are on Skid Row take on the characteristics of the environment.
In all seriousness, I am grateful to have any computer at all on which to write or do any type of necessary correspondence or research. I hear those moan and groan all of the time.
I tried to edit my previous blog so I can use the link icons and practice my new skill but once posted on a template, no can do. So I decided to try on this computer.
It is about 11:00 AM. This is the day when computer access narrows down a bit.
The weekend options will limit application usage. Maybe I can upload a picture but I can not upload a film. I can apply for a job online if the have a job application on line process. However, I can not send a resume. Most of the jobs on Craigslist require that application. Most of the computers on Skid Row deny you the use of that application.
I tried to work this morning, for the day. I called the place at 8:30AM as I was directed but the man said he needed me at 5:30AM. I know the man gave me the right information because he is very efficient and meticulous. Besides, I was sitting in front of him. It appears, though I am not sure, that I ran into the
"SKID ROW SYNDROME'. Tell them anything if they are on skid row because they dont matter. Say one thing one minute and another the next. If I am wrong, it doesn't matter because they will believe me and not the crack addict.
Did anybody ever read a book in the late 1960's titled "the underground guide to college". It was more of a reference guide than a novel. It gave a synopsis of what college students really wanted to know at the time. Academics was only a part of it. I happen to read DowntownChick's article about the The Bordello and it reminded me of that book. Read her article. I found it very witty and delightfully honest about the objectives of some sub segments of our human population.
It also gave me the chance to practice linking. So please check it out. It is funny and it might give you a chance to remember a different time.
Must admit, I am a bit down today. I thought of alot of things that I am beginning to remember that may help me, maybe. May help my attorneys help me.
You know, when you are in a male dormitory in jail and you can not access anyone in the outside world for four months it is traumatizing. You forget the simplest things, like phone numbers. When you are let out, it is like being let out of a dark closet for months and the sun light hits you and blinds you. Your system goes into another level of shock. I am just now recognizing the effects. When some attorneys asked me some things on September 20, I could not remember things. I was still frozen. I am just now beginning to thaw out. Amazing.
I am now beginning to pull apart things and partition my thoughts and questions. It has taken me months to do. Some people like a police officer and an attorney have asked me things and they may notice that I answer the same question different ways because I am beginning to identify the issues.
I wonder how can authorities seriously allow someone to file a complaint, who, two months later, is declared incompetent? How can they let a woman sign a document, in which, the facts are filled in by someone else? Not her.
My mother used to say, "walter, I am scared for my life." she would say that all of the time. She would refer to the many gang bangers or kids that would knock on her door at any time of the night to find someone or see if someone was home. We lived on the corner on a major traffic street. When there is a crime spree in the neighborhood, we, the residents on corner houses, know first. Why? because people walk up and down the street and break into the corner houses, so they can get a fast getaway. Once my mother caught someone in the garage trying to steal things out of the car. They stole our lawnmoer earlier that morning. The first thing my mother said at that time was,"I was afraid for my life." She thought the man was going to hurt her.
My mother thought the car was being stolen the morning that this so called incident happened. I said she did not recognize me. I was not with her at all, outside when they said this incident took place. I was with other people. She was alone.
She said she was scared for her life. My sister does not know what she meant by that. She was never around to hear my mother speak about her daily fears. Officers hear that WITHOUT KNOWING THE HISTORY and they seize on it. Amazing.
How can they not look at the history. Then an officer writes up a report and I kept telling him to change it. the officer was functionally illiterate. The way it was written, it was clear I never would have written anything like that.
That is why I talk about history so much. You have to know the history of the situation and with Alzheimer's Disease anything can be said. I bet most people do not know that people who suffer from it have severe personality and mood changes. They can be docile one minute and cranky and evil the next and say things they dont mean. My mom said so many things about my sister. I know the pattern because I lived with her. I kept telling my mother that my sister did not do certain things.
My sister told me I was taking my mother's watch and my mother had to straighten her out.
It just seems to me that when you are dealing with an alzheimer's patient alot of things have to be considered before you destroy the life of a person and a family.
It is in the best interest of some to use statements out of context. Examine the motive.
I have no violent history. Did that not mean anything? There are many people in our neighborhood that lived with their parents. At first it was to help us. As time went on we helped them just as much if not more as they aged. They did not want us to leave. I know that.
There was a group of us that the older ladies in the area knew. They had our phone numbers and knew they could call us to go to the store or do errands for them. I would climb on top of a roof for one lady when It rained. I put plastic on the roof. I would put in light bulbs. I would change their tires. Everybody knew me and a few others. I even purchased basketball nets and changed the nets when the nets wore out so the kids could play basketball. I was afraid that if the kids did not have nets they would not play basketball and would be in the streets getting into trouble. My father did it so I did it.
Everybody knew about my behavior. I was good neighbor. I helped everyone.
They say that I would not let anyone in the house. I kept my mom a prisoner. That was nonsense. I was swimming at USC or studying in the law library the last two years. I would leave the house and would not return for 4,5 or 6 hours. My mom could do what she wanted. She did what she wanted. I would return from USC and start to immediately answer her needs. I would go get cigarettes, groceries, sodas,pick up the trimmings from her work in the garden and put them in the trash and sneak around and try to throw away trash. I had to throw trash in the dumpster across the street at the school. Why, because if I did not do so my mother would go in it and take it all out. My sister did not know that. She did not talk to me to know that. I told the man who said I was intimidating about it. He never mentioned it. He was mad because I told him to not insult me or my mother.
They said I would not let them in the house when they came by the first time.
I was not even there. I was at the probation office. Afterwards, I purchased groceries for my mother. (I am talking about the temporary conservators).
My mother was yelling out of the window that she did not want to let them in the house. I went into the bedroom. I came out later when I realized my mother was still talking to them. She did not want to talk to them. She did not want to be bothered by people invading in her life that she did not know. She would look the doors all of the time when she expected my sister. She would come over to my room and tell me to put down my shade so Janice would not know anyone was home and then she told me to run out and lock the garage door so she could not enter the backyard.
She was afraid of my sister at times. She was literally afraid of her because she did not want to hear my sister explode on her if my mother refused to do what my sister wanted her to do. That could be anything at anytime. I just tried to stay out of the way. big mistake, right people.
I had a gut feeling about something. I noticed personality changes in my mother. I told you that. Something told me to google "personality changes in alzheimer's patients". I was praying that there would be one article. Just one. There were dozens's and some talked about how you wouldnt notice unless you were trained. I was not trained but I experienced it and trained myself to recognize the difference in my mother when It happened so I would not assume she was playing games or so I would not wonder why she might suddenly turn cold or evil.
One could say I knew about these articles. well, I have my library card and they could track every website I have been on since February 7th. Plus where I was when I posted blogs would reveal my internet surfing locations.
I learned from experience. It was a labor of love to learn how to care for my mother. I submit that each alzheimer's patient is different and that each personality change is a function of circumstances that trigger certain things, along with baggage that surfaces and is manifested in certain ways with certain trigger characteristics. If you do not know the HISTORY of the person, then you do not know how things will be manifested and when and under what circumstances.
That is why no one thought to consider these things when they were pressing her to do certain things. I knew it. Hell, I did not even know she was raped until she told me. I knew it was true because I know my mom and I know how emphatic she was for me to listen to her. she was trying to explain to me, in the best way she knew how, what happened to her that day when I was first arrested. She flashbacked. She did not recognize me and that was not the first time.I have witnesses to that fact.
No one knew from looking at her that anything was different. They did not know her. My sister did not know because she was never around us. I could see clearly when I looked at her from a distance. Of course she had a swarm of people around her firing a thousand questions at her. My sister comes up to me and asks me why did I try to steal her car. How could I steal a car that had not been started in 6 months. Any idiot would know that the battery would be dead. I tried to get the generator from the jackass drunk neighbor to help me get the battery charged so my mom and I could go somewhere. Amazing.
Each time I write about this, I uncover or thaw out a little more so I can present a logical argument and set of facts. I will go through all of these blogs, at one point and take out the precise bit of "whatever" I need to fit together with all of the other precise bits to string together some logical considerations.
In the neighborhood, I said that there were elderly parents. All of the kids, like me, or grandkids would discuss the different challenges we faced. One woman would come into her granddaughter's room two or three times a day and ask where her great grandaughter was. Her great grand daughter had not lived there for years. If you did not know that you would think the great grandaughter was expected home from school or a friend's house. That is why you must be very careful when you start to act upon what someone says who suffers from dementia. You also must consider the motives of the ones who are presenting a certain chain of facts. Are they one sided?
There was a woman who told me that sooner or later I would have to tell my neighbors that if they here your mom yell and scream for help, that she was abandoned to ignore it. Why? I asked. Because that is what they do, walter, she said. She said her mom did that all of the time. If you did not know the situation, you would think she WAS abandoned. She said that her mom would be like a kid who would wake up at night all alone and panic and, in stead of crying, she would yell for help. That was her way of getting attention.
One day my mother was talking and explaining something to my sister. My sister kept trying to get something clear. I knew what was happening. I lived with my mom. I simply told my sister that mom was confusing some things. You had to know the
syntax of the information matrix and had to know the "antecedent reference" in order to piece together the syntax of the information delivery. I recognized it right off. It was like someone asking someone to interpret what a kid says to someone else. The one who would know is the one who is around the kid the most and who studies the kid. I was that person.
It is funny how when I mentioned the situation to the company about my mother, when they were going to hire me, each time they would all of a sudden say,
"OH, she freaked out". Other places as well. They understood it because they see it everyday on skid row. They asked me what would I do if someone started yelling at me and spitting on me who never did it before? I told them I had experience with that. I told them about my mom and they knew. They have considerable experience with that.
You dont ask some first year grad student to analyse something and then tell them what to expect. They will come back with a "group think" conclusion that substantiates the goals of those that want to present a certain argument.
How would some people from torrance know anything about my mother or me? what is their motive? their fee? Who did they talk to other than who my sister said to talk to? no one. Some investigation.
I feel that what I say, may not help me or my mother but maybe it will prevent this from happening to other families with someone who is mentally ill and who suffers from dementia. Anything can happen. I found out more things. I don't know what to do with the information. My mother put me in a hard spot with this one. I will write about it when I feel comfortable.
this is the only way I can vent and organize my thoughts and begin to pull things apart so I can take things to a great level of detail.
Sometimes I feel I am being redundant. I must remind myself that this is my blog and I am doing this for me. I am starting to uncover little things that pop up in memory each time I write. I notice that would happen when i started to make headway in my self research about drug usage/life issues. I would right forever. It would never fail that something, each time I wrote, would come up to the surface and tie things together. Then, after a string of those occurences, a "biggy" would occur.
It is starting to happen. If you look at the blogs. There is something that is different when I discuss the same subject matter. It may be a new consideration or new angle. It is happening every day now. I hope it helps someone.
glad that is over for now. I am at the Library. Chrysalis is closed. I wanted to finish that bit of stuff. I saw where Garza said the webcam was a success. I am glad. I have many ideas. I just needed to find out about that cam. I needed to know about that to know about the other things. The other things are easy. It is just a matter of knowing markets and knowing what products show enter the marketplace. The rest is easy.
I hope he has the camera on again. It may not be. He had to do somethings. Dam. These has been a week of increasing clarity. I notice it in my writing. I notice it in my organization in my room. I used to lose my card key or door key every day.
All I had to do was punch a hole in the card key and put it and my key on a key chain.
Sounds easy doesn't it? It is easy if you are ready. I had to get myself ready. I recognized that the reason I had not done so was that I was used to things going wrong and I would continue to be inefficient and anxious until I enjoyed more the pleasure of not being so more than being comfortable with the "KNOWN QUANTITY" of being anxious and frustrated. To not be frustrated in this environment is a monumental task. It is easier to keep the layers of frustration intact. Henceforth the disorganization with my keys.
Same thing with my mother, bless her heart. It was too overwhelming for her at times to actualize change. Finally she did not feel that way. That is after all of the work I did to make her see that the light was here in me and in us. She played a large part in that.
that webcam, the keys and other things are symbolic of the new plateau. Some people remark that I am in good spirits. I feel I am gaining momentum in some things. This week it was organization and efficiency which created more clarity of past events. Not clarity for me to understand but my ability to facilitate the understanding of others.
Thank you very much for this week. Everybody be safe and ge home. Don't rush home.
Make sure you get there so your loved ones will see you.
Good night world. I love you