The MisAdventures of a Cripple

Hey,

So as I mentioned a few entries back, specifically in the entry I named "The Weird Day" that I got into a car accident. You can read about that here. Anyway, resulting from the car accident, I find that I am not totally unharmed as I thought. I am known for getting into crazy incidents and surviving totally unharmed, and as such, earned the nickname "SuperWoman". Not this time. 

Can you believe that I, me, fractured my wrist in the course of the accident? Ever so slightly, but more than a hairline. It was discovered a few days after, and I didn't even want to blog about it because I'm a little depressed. No car, no rental (because my insurance company, specifically my agent is a total b**chass) and now, little use of my right hand. And yes, I'm right-handed. Upon going to the hospital, I was told my wrist was fractured and a cast was put on. However, I hated that thing and immediately had it taken off, as soon as I discussed the matter with my doctor. He gave me a bunch of ace bandages, a brace (which I'll never wear in public because it looks like a medieval torture device), and a prescription for vicodin (for extreme pain and even then I'm supposed to take half a pill) as well as tylenol 3. It's summertime, and I'm totally bummed out. The pic is me and my injury. I feel even sorrier for myself just looking at it.

Scrapping that, today's mis-adventure. Why the hell do I have so many crazy people in my life?! I've got a friend, who I love truly, but let's face it, the guy is one syllable away from being placed into a mental institution. If you think I'm elaborating or embellishing...I'm not. If you think I'm just messing with you, I'm not.  

Now, I think the guy is bipolar with a dash of manic depression and some paranoia thrown in for sh**s and giggles...but I'm no psychotherapist. This guy, my friend, says he goes to see a therapist, but I doubt it...because if this dude came into my practice, he'd be in a straitjacket. He goes from happy to sad in one second, recalls conversations and events that did not occur by any means, and forgets things that happened moments before. He'll deny he said or did something less than 5 minutes after he said it. I feel bad for the guy, he's been through enough in his life, but some in-patient therapy could seriously help him. I get scared because I think he's liable to off himself. He's talked about it before, no joke. The only reason why I haven't just totally thought he was going to do it is due to the fact that he has a job, has a career and lives his life, so he's just functionally insane. And while it's alarming to know someone who is functionally insane, it's fairly common in today's world. So, while today's entry isn't really funny, it's just me asking out loud:

What can I do to help this guy? Or is it even my responsibility?

Let me just say-to add some humor-washing your own ass with a brace on your wrist...is REALLY HARD! The nurse gave me these bag things that look like massive shower caps, and I just stick my arm into it, and it's like a shower cap for my brace, wrist and arm up to the elbow. Because one hand is encased in plastic, you are essentially washing your self with one hand, because the bagged hand just freaks me the hell out, reminds me of some porno-esque scene out of a B-movie horror film ...and forget washing your hair. It just takes wayy too long, even though my hair is short..I've got a huge head. The first time I used the ziploc baggie, I was in the shower about an hour. Used all the hot water and had to rinse myself off to the sounds of my own moaning and teeth chattering from the icy water that was left in the reservoir. Yesterday, I almost didn't want to shower because it was so awkward, but I finally broke down and asked my mom to help me. She obliged, of course, and even asked me if I needed help today, but it and this whole 'crippled' experience has made me realize that I really, really, really need a boyfriend. He'd wash my ass for me, no problem. Hell, even a good f**k buddy would! (I hope..)

*Ashley Robin*