Its difficult to explain how this started. It had something to do with someone complaining about their "disability" which no one actually thinks is real. Kind of like someone who has seen combat- they rarely talk about it; but the person who is lying about having seen combat will go on and on to try and garner attention. You get it...
This particular video was the first of five I took today. I only kept three because the other two were really long with very long parts of nothing going on (he was being uncooperative a bit), so I just kept these three. Before this video, DG picked up that large wooden circle (its the seat for a stool he's making to go with the desk he made for our daughter, Ceej), but he picked it up in a slow-motion, exaggerated fashion, as if it were extremely heavy. He made a face, groaned... he did it all. And then he said, "Oh... I pooped myself."
I told him to do it again, but this time for the camera. And he seemed all for it, till I picked up the camera.
A few minutes later, I went out to his shop and started "puppet-ing" his paralyzed arm. And he let me. As was commented when I showed this on Facebook- "He's a very patient man..."
Yes, he can be.
The irony about the paralyzed hand "attacking" me is that if I wasn't holding the camera in my right hand, I would have been able to get his hand off my left hand without a problem.
And here, I told him if he showed us his gimp arm, I'd leave him alone. (he turns the saw on, so its kind of noisy).
Also, I realized that its almost been a year since I started doing this blog. I hope you all have enjoyed it and I will continue to keep track of his ridiculousness to share.
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
A few conversations from today... (swear words inside)
I post on Regretsy as one of those smart-mouthed snark-bitches. That is, if you believe what other people say when someone else is wittier than they are and they can't come up with anything clever as a retort.
Today, Regretsy featured this post. I was the first comment. Now, over on Regretsy, we don't tolerate that whole "FIRST!!" bullshit that some other sites seem to either enjoy or ignore. Either way, no one who has ever posted there will post "FIRST!!" unless they're being ironic or it happens to play into the original post. That particular subject is about some kind of fetish involving heavy-duty knit sweaters. And since its Regretsy, my post was filled with snark and attitude. I didn't think I'd be first, but that doesn't matter either way.
This is what I said:
"I want to get that orange fuzzy thing for the disabled guy. He’s always bitching about being cold. No kink involved here, I just want to stifle the urge to smother him during the winter.
With that, I could have the best of both worlds- he’d shut the fuck up and I would feel like I was actually smothering him."
In less than a minute, I received THREE "thumbs down" clicks! I thought, "Damn, it wasn't THAT bad!" When I refreshed the page, I had more thumbs down clicks. I posted it on my Facebook- how I was thumbs-downed so quickly for such a silly comment. I don't care, I mean it doesn't hurt my feelings. Usually the thumbs-downers are a bunch of whiny, self-righteous people who swear by their "art" no matter how bad it is. But hey, being on Regretsy brings sales and if something sells, who cares how they found your link?
Some of my friends commented on my status with much hilarity because most of them were also of the Regretsy ilk. I read their comments out to DG and would check back on my "thumbs down" count. The highest I saw was fifteen.
DG said: "That's mah Fan Club."
On the other extreme, I posted this comment:
"Holy shit! I’ve never had a comment “hidden due to low rating” before! A banner day for me! Huzzah!
The disabled guy just said, “That’s my fan club.”
*high five* with asterisks!"
That one received (at last check) forty-four thumbs up clicks! So my fan club is doubly strong to his. (thumbs up and thumbs down cancel each other out so if you get fifteen thumbs down and sixteen thumbs up, it shows as +1).
Later in the afternoon, DG convinced me to join him at Wal-Mart. Not my favorite place to be. Too much walking, too little gratification. In the middle of our excursion, he asked which tulips I liked. I like all tulips. Tulips are tulips. He half-mumbled something about different kinds of tulips and that was all. About twenty minutes passed as we continued our shopping and then left.
As we were driving away, he said: "There were all colors. Orange, and purple. Not orange, that would be ridiculous." and he rattled off a few more colors.
Me: "How is orange ridiculous?"
DG: "For a flower its ridiculous."
Me: "Orange is a color found in nature. We have orange flowers in our backyard. We planted them." (which are not tulips, but still orange flowers)
**Proof**
DG: "Tulips aren't orange!" (except when they are)
And he left it at that.
For the rest of the drive home, he alternately "sang" and bopped his head to whatever imaginary music was in his head. If I looked over at him, he would stop (bopping his head, that is). If I continued to look he'd giggle almost maniacally. I had to swing by the grocery store to pick up some photos I had printed and he said, "I'm gonna let you go in without me."
I replied: "Thank the gods, because people can see you head-bopping."
He started to bop his head and sing: "Look at me! You can see me!" followed by more maniacal laughter.
Just now, as I was typing this, I was telling Ceej about it. He shook his head and said, "I don't think it was me. I was possessed!"
And he thinks orange tulips are ridiculous.
Today, Regretsy featured this post. I was the first comment. Now, over on Regretsy, we don't tolerate that whole "FIRST!!" bullshit that some other sites seem to either enjoy or ignore. Either way, no one who has ever posted there will post "FIRST!!" unless they're being ironic or it happens to play into the original post. That particular subject is about some kind of fetish involving heavy-duty knit sweaters. And since its Regretsy, my post was filled with snark and attitude. I didn't think I'd be first, but that doesn't matter either way.
This is what I said:
"I want to get that orange fuzzy thing for the disabled guy. He’s always bitching about being cold. No kink involved here, I just want to stifle the urge to smother him during the winter.
With that, I could have the best of both worlds- he’d shut the fuck up and I would feel like I was actually smothering him."
In less than a minute, I received THREE "thumbs down" clicks! I thought, "Damn, it wasn't THAT bad!" When I refreshed the page, I had more thumbs down clicks. I posted it on my Facebook- how I was thumbs-downed so quickly for such a silly comment. I don't care, I mean it doesn't hurt my feelings. Usually the thumbs-downers are a bunch of whiny, self-righteous people who swear by their "art" no matter how bad it is. But hey, being on Regretsy brings sales and if something sells, who cares how they found your link?
Some of my friends commented on my status with much hilarity because most of them were also of the Regretsy ilk. I read their comments out to DG and would check back on my "thumbs down" count. The highest I saw was fifteen.
DG said: "That's mah Fan Club."
On the other extreme, I posted this comment:
"Holy shit! I’ve never had a comment “hidden due to low rating” before! A banner day for me! Huzzah!
The disabled guy just said, “That’s my fan club.”
*high five* with asterisks!"
That one received (at last check) forty-four thumbs up clicks! So my fan club is doubly strong to his. (thumbs up and thumbs down cancel each other out so if you get fifteen thumbs down and sixteen thumbs up, it shows as +1).
Later in the afternoon, DG convinced me to join him at Wal-Mart. Not my favorite place to be. Too much walking, too little gratification. In the middle of our excursion, he asked which tulips I liked. I like all tulips. Tulips are tulips. He half-mumbled something about different kinds of tulips and that was all. About twenty minutes passed as we continued our shopping and then left.
As we were driving away, he said: "There were all colors. Orange, and purple. Not orange, that would be ridiculous." and he rattled off a few more colors.
Me: "How is orange ridiculous?"
DG: "For a flower its ridiculous."
Me: "Orange is a color found in nature. We have orange flowers in our backyard. We planted them." (which are not tulips, but still orange flowers)
**Proof**
DG: "Tulips aren't orange!" (except when they are)
And he left it at that.
For the rest of the drive home, he alternately "sang" and bopped his head to whatever imaginary music was in his head. If I looked over at him, he would stop (bopping his head, that is). If I continued to look he'd giggle almost maniacally. I had to swing by the grocery store to pick up some photos I had printed and he said, "I'm gonna let you go in without me."
I replied: "Thank the gods, because people can see you head-bopping."
He started to bop his head and sing: "Look at me! You can see me!" followed by more maniacal laughter.
Just now, as I was typing this, I was telling Ceej about it. He shook his head and said, "I don't think it was me. I was possessed!"
And he thinks orange tulips are ridiculous.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
A quick intro...
The Disabled Guy- I started referring to him as that online because that's what he is and he knows it. He is aware that he's disabled. He despises the softened, politically correct things people use to describe him.
"Differently-abled"
"Physically challenged"
He is disabled. Handicapped. If he wasn't disabled, he'd have a job and be earning a paycheck instead of living off disability from the Veteran's Administration.
He was twenty-eight years old (six months and ten days after his honorable discharge from the Army) when he was felled by the stroke. And that's literal- felled. He fell down. He was unloading the trailer to the semi-truck he drove (he became a long-haul trucker after the Army) when he staggered, dropped the box he was carrying and crumbled. This was told to me by the man who caught him. He said that Jerry had been talking and walking just fine and they were about half-done with their work. That's when he stopped talking, staggered and fell. The man, who looked like a black Arnold Schwarzenegger, caught him before he fell all the way down. Jerry ended up with only a scraped knee (as opposed to a broken arm, broken hip, head wound).
I've told this story so many times before- we were living in Savannah, Georgia. He had the stroke in a suburb of Washington DC and was in the hospital in Laurel, Maryland. Our kids were 5 1/2, 3, and 1 1/2 years old at the time. They have no memories of their father from before the stroke. He is paralyzed on his right side, has no use of his right hand and arm and walks with a slight limp.
The last fifteen years have been a challenge and filled with ups and downs and sometimes spirals and loop-de-loops. It hasn't all been good and it hasn't all been bad.
The disorders Jerry has- aphasia and apraxia- are common with brain injuries.
~SOURCE~
Fluent Aphasia (also called Wernicke's aphasia): People with Wernicke's aphasia usually have great difficulty understanding speech, and they are often unaware of their mistakes.
Non-fluent Aphasia: They often omit small words such as "is," "and," and "the." For example, a person with Broca's aphasia may say, "Walk dog," meaning, "I will take the dog for a walk."
There are other types of aphasia, each of which results from damage to different language areas in the brain. Some people may have difficulty repeating words and sentences even though they can speak and they understand the meaning of the word or sentence. Others may have difficulty naming objects even though they know what the object is and what it may be used for. **end of source**
Jerry has a combination of those three types. Sometimes he's unaware of his mistakes. We don't laugh at him or tease him when he's unaware. When we're alone (without our kids around), I'll let him know what his mistake was, but I don't make a scene out of the situation. He also drops words or adds words to what he's trying to say. Such as: "I beg to differ" comes out as "I beg to be differ". Plus he has trouble coming up with seemingly easy to recall words. He interchanges gender pronouns, calling our pets him or her (despite the actual gender of the animal). He also calls the kids by the wrong name at times- and by that, I mean he will pull a name out of his past from 25 years ago and call our kids by that name.
From the same site as above- the definition of Jerry's type of Apraxia.
Apraxia of speech: A severe speech disorder characterized by inability to speak, or a severe struggle to speak clearly. Apraxia of speech occurs when the oral- motor muscles do not or cannot obey commands from the brain, or when the brain cannot reliably send those commands. Children with apraxia can be helped significantly with intensive speech therapy.
And, of course, the more tired he is, the worse it gets.
I asked Jerry if he would mind if I started a blog about the "crazy shit" he says. He didn't care. I share snippets of our conversations with a few message boards I frequent. I have to say, the snopes Urban Legends Message Board group is by far the most appreciative and are part of the reason I thought about starting the blog.
The first few posts will be done from memory as I try to recall some of the more extensive conversations we've had. Today (Christmas Eve), Jerry had an argument with my Magic 8 Ball. You know, the toy you ask a question, shake up, and it presents a reply in a little window. This is the third argument in two weeks that he's had with my Magic 8 Ball. This argument culminated with him asking if I was insane (because I yelled at him to stop arguing with the 8 Ball). It kept saying: "Reply hazy", "ask again later", "cannot answer now". He sighed and shook the 8 Ball: "Why are you bein' so hard-headed!?"
I stood up, took the Magic 8 Ball from him. He was questioning MY sanity by asking a toy. Scratch that- by arguing with a toy.
He has also been known to refer to "disabled" as "disassemble". And he realizes it and says: "No disassemble, Stephanie!" (that's a reference to an 80s movie called "Short Circuit").
Another tidbit to leave you with- today he was watching the holiday episode of "iCarly" (he loves that show). Carly's brother built a magnetic Christmas tree that caught on fire. Kat (our 20 year old daughter) has never watched the episode and asked, as they were setting the tree up at the end of the episode, "They set it on fire again, don't they?"
The Disabled Guy replied: "No. They start humming the Snoopy song from Charlie's Angels."
For your enjoyment- here's a photo of the Disabled Guy.
We have three Chihuahuas and they're "his babies". The two pictured with him are Jasper (smaller, dark) and Luna (larger, fawn-colored). We have a puppy that is the result of Luna and Jasper- named Bruno. We also have a German Shepherd named Gypsy and four cats.
Oh, and just to show you, so you don't worry about him so much, Jerry is talented. After the stroke, he spent a lot of years puttering around the house. He'd follow behind me, doing the housework that I just finished. He'd reload the dishwasher after I loaded it, he'd dust the living room and vacuum. I finally stopped doing it. I figured, "Why bother?" because he'd just do it again ten minutes later. Before the stroke, Jerry used to build precision models. Airplanes, battleships, cars, trucks, helicopters, we even had the Starship Enterprise and a Klingon ship. Obviously, after losing the use of his one hand, he couldn't do that anymore.
He still managed to find his niche.
He builds things out of wood. Amazing things. ~Link to his Photobucket album~ All one-handed, left-handed.
Another quick sample to leave you with:
He asked: "What are you doing?" (his DVD just ended, so he had to get up)
I replied: "I started a blog called 'Conversations with the Disabled Guy'."
He exclaimed in mock anger: "WHY!?"
I answered: "Because you said I could."
He sighed, "Oh, yeah. Okay. So, is it good?"
I told him: "Not yet, but it will be."
"Differently-abled"
"Physically challenged"
He is disabled. Handicapped. If he wasn't disabled, he'd have a job and be earning a paycheck instead of living off disability from the Veteran's Administration.
He was twenty-eight years old (six months and ten days after his honorable discharge from the Army) when he was felled by the stroke. And that's literal- felled. He fell down. He was unloading the trailer to the semi-truck he drove (he became a long-haul trucker after the Army) when he staggered, dropped the box he was carrying and crumbled. This was told to me by the man who caught him. He said that Jerry had been talking and walking just fine and they were about half-done with their work. That's when he stopped talking, staggered and fell. The man, who looked like a black Arnold Schwarzenegger, caught him before he fell all the way down. Jerry ended up with only a scraped knee (as opposed to a broken arm, broken hip, head wound).
I've told this story so many times before- we were living in Savannah, Georgia. He had the stroke in a suburb of Washington DC and was in the hospital in Laurel, Maryland. Our kids were 5 1/2, 3, and 1 1/2 years old at the time. They have no memories of their father from before the stroke. He is paralyzed on his right side, has no use of his right hand and arm and walks with a slight limp.
The last fifteen years have been a challenge and filled with ups and downs and sometimes spirals and loop-de-loops. It hasn't all been good and it hasn't all been bad.
The disorders Jerry has- aphasia and apraxia- are common with brain injuries.
~SOURCE~
Fluent Aphasia (also called Wernicke's aphasia): People with Wernicke's aphasia usually have great difficulty understanding speech, and they are often unaware of their mistakes.
Non-fluent Aphasia: They often omit small words such as "is," "and," and "the." For example, a person with Broca's aphasia may say, "Walk dog," meaning, "I will take the dog for a walk."
There are other types of aphasia, each of which results from damage to different language areas in the brain. Some people may have difficulty repeating words and sentences even though they can speak and they understand the meaning of the word or sentence. Others may have difficulty naming objects even though they know what the object is and what it may be used for. **end of source**
Jerry has a combination of those three types. Sometimes he's unaware of his mistakes. We don't laugh at him or tease him when he's unaware. When we're alone (without our kids around), I'll let him know what his mistake was, but I don't make a scene out of the situation. He also drops words or adds words to what he's trying to say. Such as: "I beg to differ" comes out as "I beg to be differ". Plus he has trouble coming up with seemingly easy to recall words. He interchanges gender pronouns, calling our pets him or her (despite the actual gender of the animal). He also calls the kids by the wrong name at times- and by that, I mean he will pull a name out of his past from 25 years ago and call our kids by that name.
From the same site as above- the definition of Jerry's type of Apraxia.
Apraxia of speech: A severe speech disorder characterized by inability to speak, or a severe struggle to speak clearly. Apraxia of speech occurs when the oral- motor muscles do not or cannot obey commands from the brain, or when the brain cannot reliably send those commands. Children with apraxia can be helped significantly with intensive speech therapy.
And, of course, the more tired he is, the worse it gets.
I asked Jerry if he would mind if I started a blog about the "crazy shit" he says. He didn't care. I share snippets of our conversations with a few message boards I frequent. I have to say, the snopes Urban Legends Message Board group is by far the most appreciative and are part of the reason I thought about starting the blog.
The first few posts will be done from memory as I try to recall some of the more extensive conversations we've had. Today (Christmas Eve), Jerry had an argument with my Magic 8 Ball. You know, the toy you ask a question, shake up, and it presents a reply in a little window. This is the third argument in two weeks that he's had with my Magic 8 Ball. This argument culminated with him asking if I was insane (because I yelled at him to stop arguing with the 8 Ball). It kept saying: "Reply hazy", "ask again later", "cannot answer now". He sighed and shook the 8 Ball: "Why are you bein' so hard-headed!?"
I stood up, took the Magic 8 Ball from him. He was questioning MY sanity by asking a toy. Scratch that- by arguing with a toy.
He has also been known to refer to "disabled" as "disassemble". And he realizes it and says: "No disassemble, Stephanie!" (that's a reference to an 80s movie called "Short Circuit").
Another tidbit to leave you with- today he was watching the holiday episode of "iCarly" (he loves that show). Carly's brother built a magnetic Christmas tree that caught on fire. Kat (our 20 year old daughter) has never watched the episode and asked, as they were setting the tree up at the end of the episode, "They set it on fire again, don't they?"
The Disabled Guy replied: "No. They start humming the Snoopy song from Charlie's Angels."
For your enjoyment- here's a photo of the Disabled Guy.
We have three Chihuahuas and they're "his babies". The two pictured with him are Jasper (smaller, dark) and Luna (larger, fawn-colored). We have a puppy that is the result of Luna and Jasper- named Bruno. We also have a German Shepherd named Gypsy and four cats.
Oh, and just to show you, so you don't worry about him so much, Jerry is talented. After the stroke, he spent a lot of years puttering around the house. He'd follow behind me, doing the housework that I just finished. He'd reload the dishwasher after I loaded it, he'd dust the living room and vacuum. I finally stopped doing it. I figured, "Why bother?" because he'd just do it again ten minutes later. Before the stroke, Jerry used to build precision models. Airplanes, battleships, cars, trucks, helicopters, we even had the Starship Enterprise and a Klingon ship. Obviously, after losing the use of his one hand, he couldn't do that anymore.
He still managed to find his niche.
He builds things out of wood. Amazing things. ~Link to his Photobucket album~ All one-handed, left-handed.
Another quick sample to leave you with:
He asked: "What are you doing?" (his DVD just ended, so he had to get up)
I replied: "I started a blog called 'Conversations with the Disabled Guy'."
He exclaimed in mock anger: "WHY!?"
I answered: "Because you said I could."
He sighed, "Oh, yeah. Okay. So, is it good?"
I told him: "Not yet, but it will be."
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