Requires more than one line to spark my interest or receive a reply!

Master and i are secure enough in our relationship to start a search for a female slave or passable tv to serve both of us.

I seem to be having problems writing a journal about my experiences with the wreck. I will just write about the people in the medical field. I will not include the doctors in this. I am sure they would know why. In my opinion the real backbone of the medical profession is the nurses and technicians and the CNAs. They get paid the least and are given the least credit. I also want to add the physical and occupational therapists to that list. Well the ones with at least seven years experience. They are the ones that know all the textbook procedures do not work for all people. There are a few exceptions to that rule who are just so good they know naturally you have to fit the therapy to the patient. Well I am getting ahead of myself.

Let’s start with the nurses on pavilion dang I can’t remember if it was six or seven. It was the floor for orthopedic recovery. Anyway the nurses was there telling me to hang in there making jokes about my tits in their face when they were trying to turn me. That one got a laugh out of me in a moment of extreme pain. That was Val she was the one that I connected with the most. As much as I appreciate the nurses and the excellent care I got, I remember the third shift CNAs the most. They are the ones who showed me how to tilt the bed so the foot was higher and the head was lower to make it easier on me to pull myself up in the bed without help. They also showed me how I could stand more easily if I raised the bed, and lowered it so sitting was easier. These were little ways to make the whole situation in the beginning easier to adjust to. It all helped me cope until the muscles developed that I needed to do these things on my own. They are the ones who came in to turn me and did such a good job of tucking pillows around me to keep me comfortable and as pain free as possible. Let me rephrase that. They are the ones who packed me in pillows trying to reduce my pain level as much as possible. Damn my memory I never thought I would forget their names. They were such wonderful women. If you ask the doctors what they know of the patient you will not learn much. That is why they make stupid statements about drug use and such and how the patient will probably not walk much because she apparently didn't even before the accident because she had a scooter. The nurses and CNAs and PT and OT all told a different story. They all said as tough as you are and as determined and independent if anyone can do it Jo it is you.  

The CNAs take abuse like you would not believe. Civilized people cannot comprehend the way some people treat the aids. I have listened to it and I have seen it and I still find it hard to believe. I have seen them turn right around and comfort the person who had just abused them verbally. When asked how they can do it they all answer pretty much the same. " Oh they don't mean what they say that's just the pain talking." 

I have seen them get bit, slapped, spit on, shit slung at them and worse, and they come back to work everyday saying the good ones keep them coming back. I have had them hug me while I cried like a baby while on the pot because I could not do it myself. I said I don't know how you can do this, and the reply was, "Honey if we didn't want to do it we wouldn't be here. We love our job we love helping people and it is just another part of the job."

Losing the use of one leg impacts your life far more than one could ever begin to imagine. At first it is far worse because your body has not built up the muscles to compensate for the lack of the leg. How does that affect your life? No balance! I always felt off center. Just a simple thing like going to the bathroom becomes a nightmare of humiliation and fear. I had to wear the hospital gown so that it would fall out of the way as I was struggling to get onto the pot.  Because of my weight, I had to have male cna's so that there was strength enough to catch me if I did lose my balance. Every time I stood up and felt my balance going caused waves of fear to roll in and over me. First the fear I would fall, second the fear that I would rebreak my ankle and I would have to deal with that severe pain again. Secondly was the fear of causing one of the CNAs to get an injury from lifting me. Then there was the fear of falling while having a bm (bowel movement).  It would be humiliating enough falling in such a compromising position, but even worse what about getting the bm all over? Then there was the humiliation of having someone else wipe my butt because it was all I could do to hang on for dear life. You think this is as  bad as it gets? Oh no it gets worse, much worse. How do you tell someone they are not delving into the fat far enough? That what they are wiping is my tailbone and it is good and clean because there is no longer any skin on it but my anus is still not clean. That is a moment I would not choose to go through, but I had no choice my raw tailbone was bleeding and now every nurse who came on duty had to see it so they could write about the progress of it in their report.

Add to that indignity the bladder problem. I swell and retain fluids. I take a pill twice a day to get rid of those fluids. I also have an overactive bladder. This means bladder spasms which means incontinence, frequent incontinence.  Now because I can only use one leg I am very slow getting to the pot. Even when the pot is a commode beside the bed there is a problem. When I have to go, it is immediately urgent. At  first I used a cathedar, but after two months it caused an infection in my urinery tract and had to come out. So here I am today spending sixty dollars a week on pull up incontinence panties.(diapers). I need bed pads as well. Yes I am fifty-one years old and getting to experience  wetting the bed again.

So now I am home and it is better having someone who knows you take care of you right? Wrong! You now have to watch your family staring with disgust at your  bm. Not to mention that  by now three months later they are tired of hearing about it. Everyone is ready to move on except my body. It is not ready to move on yet. The spirit is willing but I'll be darned of the old body just seems to need more time to heal. I had someone tell me to stop being so negative and move on. All I could do was just stare. I so wanted to ask how but I really doubt I would get a rational answer from someone who would say that in the first place.  How do I move on when I only have one leg to stand on and it was damaged in the wreck also.  Remember my good leg is the one they had to cut out of the van. Same one that had the internal bleeding ending in the massive hemitoma. It is of course by now starting to suffer from all the wear and tear on it. Old injuries are becoming new injuries. I can feel the ligaments tearing when I pivot on it. I called the doctor about it but of course there is nothing he can do. If they treat it I then lose a leg to stand on so that option is out.The only real option I have is live with the pain. Deal with it the best I can.      

I fell for the first time this past weekend just a week  before the fourth of July. I was excited about having visitors and didn't set the brakes on my walker.  I lost my balance and grabbed for my walker only to have it roll out from under me. I yelled as I fell and my daughter caught me so it was a controlled fall but i was on the floor any way you look at it. First thought was Oh my God I used my foot! Second was relief because I was not in agonizing pain. If I had reinjured I am sure I would be in excrutiating pain like before. The feeling of relief at discovering my ankle survivied is then stopped by the realization that I am on the floor and there is no way up without using that foot. It was my daughter offering to try lifting me up on my bed that gave me the idea. I had purchased a portable ramp for  when I needed to get the scooter in the van. I had her get the ramp and set it up on my bed. She sat on the bed legs braced and pulled on the blanket I had put on the ramp befor lying on my back on it. While I pushed with my good leg and pulled on the bed rails Jennifer pulled on the blanket under me. Between the two of us we were able  to get me back on my feet, well foot anyway without any harm done to my ankle. We were quite proud of ourselves.

I forgot to mention the staff infection I got while in the nursing home. They discovered it during my second trip to the hospital. So not only did I have to spend another 10 days in the hospital but I had to do it in isolation. My room was at the end of the hall remote so isolation made it seem as if I was the only one there.

My grandson asked me when I had two negative test results if my bed was clean now. He wanted to get up in the bed with me so we could color.

Then someone was careless with the foley which is the bag that collects the urine and I ended up with an E coli infection in my urine. This means no more cathedars, and a lot more accidents. I am petrified about going out in public. What if I fall? What if I can't get my scooter in the bathroom? Most bathrooms aren't really hadicapped accessable. Worse yet, what if I don't make it in time and have an accident and it leaks?

I get so stressed about going out in public and being hit with these fears and or some other catastrophe. Plus now standing on this knee in the good leg is becoming more difficult daily.

Spent yesterday in the ER again. This time it was my ex-husband housemate. How do I explain the odd relationship between my ex and I to anyone when I am not sure I understand it myself?
Yes we were married for 25 years.  Yes we loved each other. Yes we still love each other. Does that make us a couple? No. Does that make us a relationship. Not really.
I divorced Jim for a very good reason. Our marriage sucked for a very good reason. We were both messed up in the head. Both from dysfunctional families. Both of us abused the other in different ways.  So the relationship was two very unhappy people who loved each other. That still spells failure of the relationship unless both parties are willing to work hard to change that in themselves that was causing the failure. I was, he wasn't. For twenty-five years I was promised that he would change. I waited and during that time I got counseling. I changed who I was. I got healthy emotionally and my family couldn't see it. He still wanted things the way they were. I couldn't live that way any more. I was going to see a lawyer about divorce when we found out he had this neurological disorder that was going to rob him of his mental and physical abilities. While going to physical therapy to fight what the Neurological disorder was going to do to his body he had heart failure.
That was in 2001. So between the two illnesses one or the other will either kill him or incapacitate him. We are praying the heart will kill him before the neurological disorder does its evil deed, but it doesn't look as if that is what is going to happen.
Back in 2001 he let his dad convince him that I was going to the lawyer to file for bankruptcy and leave him owing all the money so he and his dad went to a lawyer and filed bankruptcy doing the very thing they feared was happening, to me.
Basically that is what the relationship had always been. Him and his parents. They did not like me did not want me to be a part of the family and saw to it that I was not. So back to the bankruptcy. It was more symbolic than anything else. I had told him that I had planned on divorcing him but with this diagnosis it wouldn't be right to leave him, but the only way it would work is that there be no more lies. He couldn't lie to me anymore about his life. We needed to work together as a team. Him and I. He agreed. I caught him lying to me more than once and when he told me about the bankruptcy it was the final straw. I symbolized 25 years of waiting for him to keep his promise and change to make the marriage work, which he obviously would never do. It would always be his parents and he against me. So I left and ended the relationship.
I had worked while he went to school. He was an architect. I raised the kids pretty much by myself. While he was in school he was a teachers assistant meaning he taught part-time and went to school part-time. What that roughly translates too is 20 hours of teaching for every 20 of school. Oh yeah and grading all papers why the Professor played racket ball. I was working data entry at that time as well as taking care of our infant son. I was also babysitting other people’s kids in exchange for hourly slips of paper saying they would have to watch my son that same amount. So when I was working he could call on one of those parents to baby-sit while he played student. He was a lousy speller and even worse at putting words together so guess who wrote his papers for him? Yes me. 
Don't get me wrong he worked very very hard to get his license I only helped out. The point I am getting at is when we divorced I could have gotten a dependency on his social security and been getting all that money but I was proud and walked away from it. Nine thousand in settlement and then at least $900 a month for life. Well plus the cost of living raises SS gives.  Not me I as usual am doing it the hard way on my own. Only thing is I was cheated out of on my own. Once someone stops working for medical reasons they have nine years to get on disability. Once the nine years run out you have to work another five in order to be eligible again. So I applied and was denied. No one told me that SS was doing that to everyone. No one told me that there was rules to go by.
I accepted my denial until another health condition came up and was denied. On it went. I found out after it was too late there is a standing rule that SS denies everyone. One must appeal. They will be denied again. One must appeal. With each appeal one must write more and more detail of ones limitations and how it affects your life. At that time everyone was denied three times the fourth time being the only time you communicated with medical personnel who would know what you were talking about.  So not knowing all this I lost out on my SSA and Medicare. So I played the political game and got SSI and Medicaid. This means I live on $600 a month with no Medicare which means I am denied about half of the medical attention I need and would have gotten with Medicare.
OK here is were the story ties together I have a lot of artistic talent just very little learning. I had gone back to school this time majoring in art that is what I am really good at.
Health issues got in the way and I had to quit.

So now I was homeless. Poor and sick with nowhere to go. My dad said go to a shelter. My kids said well you can't stay here.
I tried to commit suicide and failed

Jim agreed to let me stay with him until I could get on my feet. In exchange I would take him places and be there if something happened. He can't drive so it worked out well for him and I had a place to stay other than my van or a shelter so we decided it would work permanently.

I drove him everywhere anytime he wanted to go I would cook for him and buy most of the groceries and all the transportation expense.

In exchange for a room. Well at first it was taking turns using his twin bed. Then he made room for my own twin bed. After that we moved to a house where I had my very own room. I have no say in the rest of the house just my room. The rest is his.

All this time I saw myself as taking care of him I cook I take him to the doctor I sit for hours in the ER when he feels he needs to go. Sometimes I tell him he needs to go. If he is ill I take care of him with his caregiver.

He of course didn’t see it that way. He was paying rent and utilities and buying $16. worth of food so he was carrying me giving me a place to stay when I have no where to go.

Not only does he consider me as a tolerated expense, he and his family think I am not worthy of consideration. I am fair game for insults and inconsideration. Basically I am treated like the hired help only not well liked.

When I get upset with them and let them know I will no longer be treated that way my ex gets mad at me.

Under theses circumstances I will continue to take care of him while I live here it just is not in my nature to treat him the way he treats others. BUT I do not owe any one anything. I am free to leave when I want because I have always given more than I got. I make sure of it.

I used to have a hard time reconciling myself to leaving him even though he said he did not want me back until his mom died. I was told by all that I could not consider myself family so please do not act as such at the funeral. I was not even allowed to sit with the family. I was however allowed to take him to the ER afterwards because none of them were intelligent enough to tell the man that if you wear a winter suit in warm weather it is going to make you sick. If the room is hot and you have a winter weight wool jacket, and you start too feel sick. TAKE THE FREAKING JACKET OFF!!

Not one of them thought of that.

Anyway two weeks later I was asked to stay at home  alone for Easter so the rest of the family could enjoy each others company without having to deal with me oh and by the way your children and grandchild will be here too, but you aren’t wanted.

Today’s journal entry is not so much about me as a question intended to inspire discussion and comments and debate. My question is two fold. The first part is about Dom’s that confuse being a disciplinarian for being a Dominant. In my opinion, the SM part of the lifestyle is not about punishment for punishment’s sake. Oh sure there needs to be guidance and leadership, but the SM is about pushing the extreme limits of the sensual pleasure of pain. I have never understood why some Doms feel a need to manufacture infractions just for the purpose of punishment. Seems to me if he has a good sub his time would be better spent appreciating the gift he has been given and expending that energy and need for control and inflicting pain on developing and experimenting with the sensual pain aspect. There are so many yummy implements of torture out there to try and so many that can be created with a little imagination and ingenuity. We have one such person in a local group here. He is just plain brilliant at taking the everyday and making it into sometime genius. Like a reciprocating saw into a fucking machine, and just this week the group was going on a perverted shopping trip, which means they went to local stores and found normal items to be made into something wonderful. His genius exhibited itself in the idea to get some tubing wrap the sub up in it under a latex suit. Then attach a little fountain pump to it and pour hot water through it. The pump will keep the water circulating through the tubes and just as the sub gets accustomed to hot against her skin she then gets cold water. Isn’t he brilliant? This is how one’s time could be spent if it is not being wasted on manufacturing infractions just so punishment can be inflicted.

The second part of my question for debate is the assertion by many Doms that a gentle side must not be confused as weakness or that he is a switch or in any other way is his control or discipline compromised? What’s with that? They are Dominants of course they are not weak. The ability to be gently only exhibits strength of nature and assurance; otherwise they would fear how gentleness might make them appear weak. Ooops I think they already did didn’t they? I mean wouldn’t a Dom with the strength of character to be a true Dom feels no need to explain himself? Wouldn’t any sub that thought to take advantage of his good nature soon learn the error of her ways soon enough? A very valuable learning experience it would be also. Teaching respect, the error of assumptions as well as a little humility and how very evil manipulation of any sort is and how it can hurt all who would think to use it. Wow, isn’t that exactly what Doms do? To me it would be like saying, “Please do not mistake water for being weak just because it is not ice all the time. It can be hard when it needs to be and very definitely will.”

Someone in one of my groups asked the following question on the message board: What would you do if your master was
hurt and put in a coma that he was not probably going to wake up
from? Would you stay his, or would you look for someone new? What
would the Masters want the slave to do? I was going to answer the question from my own point of view dealing with Jim’s illness. I figured his deteriorating health and eventual death was very close to the same thing so I could give an answer from a prospective of almost first hand opinion. I started and couldn’t finish it. I have wanted to keep a record through my blogs of what it is like having to deal with the slow deterioration and death of a loved one to hopefully help others who have or will go through the same thing. I don’t know if it is because it looks like I am trying to get attention from Jim’s suffering or it is just too hard to open myself up that much. Actually neither of those things feels right. I don’t care what others think of me and I have never had any trouble expressing my feelings. Wow I sure am having trouble this time. Ok Ok I do care what others think of me. It hurt like hell when people thought I divorced Jim so I wouldn’t have to deal with his illness I don’t guess it matters if I don’t share this but damnit to me it is important. Jim isn’t capable of close relationships and no longer physically capable. He feels useless therefore no good to anyone so he keeps me at a distance, thus emotional coma. What does he want me to do? He doesn’t want me to make any decisions based on what he wants or needs. So he keeps me at a distance. So judging by that I would say that a common reaction for the Dom would be that he would not want the slave to stay, but he would.

That doesn’t make any sense but it is the same thing from my point of view. I would like to feel again but I can’t get close to anyone. While everyone is advising me to move on because it is affecting my health, I just can’t do it. Even if he wants me to move and I want to move, I can’t do it. I get asked why over and over again and I don’t know why they idea of him dying without me is unacceptable. Am I doing it for him or for me? I don’t want to think it is for selfish reasons but it probably is.

It is pretty egocentric on my part to believe that without me he will die alone. He will not tell me he loves me or needs me, yet I feel certain I need to be here. How sad, does he need me or do I need him? If it is I needing him what and why do I need it? Is it because I left him in the first place? Is it because I am afraid to be alone? Is it because I still love him? Well I do but …. Is it because I am completely selfish and self-centered and am afraid of being on my own? I don’t know I do know I am angry. It is unbelievable with whom I am angry. Jim, I am angry with Jim. Why? He sure didn’t ask for this thing. It is unfair enough that he has been stricken with this shit without me blaming him for it; and why would I blame him for it? In some strange way I feel that I am to blame for his illness. Because all those years ago when he was not a good husband and father I asked God for revenge. You know this is seriously messed up. How could I make anyone get sick? How could my wish for revenge cause anyone to get sick? Perhaps I would like to have that kind of control?

Ok back to anger, I am angry with his kids, who are still thinking only of themselves and acting like this is not happening. I am mad at God yes there I said it I am angry with God for doing this to him. I am with the world for treating him like an imbecile because he talks funny and doesn’t change facial expressions. I am angry with the doctors for not making him more comfortable. I am also angry because I have to be tough for Jim’s sake. If I am soft he falls apart. If I am tough he holds it together. Do I need to make him hold it together? Am I doing him a favor? Or would it be better if he carried on? Fell apart acted as if there was more wrong with him than there is? This thing could take months or it could take years. People tell me I am throwing my life away. I can’t die with him. Wow, maybe I can. Maybe that is what I am trying to do while eating all the time. Maybe I feel I should be the one to go instead of him. Maybe I think I will be missed less. Or maybe ii feel he would do more good being alive than ii would. I don’t think anyone really knows how bad a person I am. Well my kids do that’s why my son won’t talk to me. Damn when did this thing start being about me. Is that meaning I am even more despicable than I thought? Or is it fairly normal to grieve from a selfish point of view? I wonder if my ramblings will really help anyone or if that is and eccentric ego-trip also? Does everyone going through losing a loved one feel this much guilt?

Anyway back to the question of the Master in a coma and not expected to survive it. I would have to say that He wouldn’t want her to wait but deep down he would. I wouldn’t say he would because that would sound bad and people would think poorly of him and because he doesn’t want bad things to happen to her but deep down he will want her to be there grieving always.

Two of the reasons I can not belong to anyone is one I am  taking care of my ex husband who is dieing. He is getting worse, and I am beginning to crack under the pressure. I couldnt be married to him or have any kind of relationship with him, but I was married to this man for 25 years he is the father of my children, of course I care about him and hate to see him dieing so slowly. You think you can be prepared but you can't. Now not only is his body slowly diminishing but now his mind seems to be also. This week he accused me of taking his money to buy food. I always buy the food. He just doesn't realize how much everything costs now days or how much I have been buying for him. I am a generous person, I love buying for others but I bought fifty dollars worth of stuff for myself and he is convinced I bought it with his money. That hurt. I keep telling myself it doesn't matter if i keep saying it long enough i will believe it.
The other reason I cannot be in a BDSM relationship is because I have to take blood thinners. The least little bump and I bleed heavily under the skin. Well the good news is that I will probably be getting off of them in the end of June wooo hoo. I am going to try not to get my hopes up because it may not happen but boy oh boy if it does I am going to need a spanking like yesterday. giggles
Ok I am done ranting gonna go to bed and dream of that spanking. mmmmmmmmmm nite nite.

6/8/05
I have talked several of the Doms from this area, and met two of them. I must say it has been a little disappointing. They have been really really nice but, either had no experience or were not interested in 24,7. Really what they wanted was some kinky sex,not a BDSM Lifestyle.