Beware the ides…

[franklanguage]

Apparently I haven't written a post since last November, when I was in crisis mode. Now I'm too bleepin' busy, working seven days a week—which I really can't stand.

It sounds like it's sleeting outside, so it probably is.

And oh gawd, I was at one of my clients' homes last week, and the man of the house was home early. He asked if I knew where to get some pot—wish I did, but when I used to smoke, I'd ask people and they'd think I was a narc; now, I know people who smoke it, even grow it, but I'm not in a position to buy, or certainly to refer people.

So he offered me a joint. Uh…don't do that. That's crossing the line—even if I still smoked—to offer a joint to someone who works for you. I just said I couldn't, and even explained that I hadn't in years. Seriously, and I said this: I stopped smoking pot and drinking alcohol because it doesn't affect me the way it does other people. And that's true: after my brain injury, all bets were off. And alcohol got me drunk and hungover at the same time; I finally figured out it wasn't going to get better.

To change the subject, I told him I was in a car accident and had been comatose for a month. "A month?" he said. "Yeah," I said. Looking at CAT scans of my brain, it's like there's a whole blown-out area in the left hemisphere; fortunately, by now the right hemisphere has compensated as much as it's going to.

Unfortunately, I never had a problem with pot—but that's because I never bought it. Anyway, I didn't get stoned, and don't have any regrets.

Comments

[wrecktangle.livejournal.com]

I wouldn't regret a reason to abstain from any such indulgence. Gah! I hate that I smoke! it's money I could spend on nicer things. That's insane, a month! Did you dream at all? Did it infuriate you to learn how much time had passed? I have a million questions but I will stop myself out of respect for you. Also, that's a cool dude to be working with. Yeah, I see your point about crossing a line of professionalism, but at the same time; His attitude toward you says he's really comfortable around you, and likes you. No?

[franklanguage.livejournal.com]

I was going to answer you right away, but I haven't been home much this week; a client died and I've been dogsitting for his dog, who's been having a little separation anxiety—naturally. A friend of mine has made her (the dog) a Facebook page, and thinks she probably has a new home through it. It's a step up for her; there are two other dogs there, and a fenced-in yard—something she's never had. (The first year of her life she was kept tied up all the time, which has scarred her, naturally.)

When I was comatose, I had wish-fulfillment dreams of walking, and seriously didn't know what had happened. I also was aware of visitors I had, and puzzled I couldn't talk. (I had a tracheotomy tube in and didn't know it.) Thing is, I wanted to yell and scream, and they would have sedated me; in fact, I'm pretty sure they gave me some serious sedatives even when I was comatose. I belong to the brain_injury community, which like most LJ communities is pretty dormant, but could be a real help if it were more active and any maintainers would step forward.

Yeah, it is cool to have clients that want to share a joint; I just felt odd because I couldn't do it. I have almost 24 years away from a joint or a drink, and I can't afford to fuck it up; it wouldn't make things better.