Tag Archives: Money

I’ll Remember You Three


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I’ll remember you as cold and typically distant, there in body – not in spirit, on your phone nonstop, barely a spoken word, tiny complaints, annoyed facial expressions, being passive, sex on the forefront of the mind, in and out menial conversations, game apps, assisting me and the folding of my wheelchair, zero mantra of hope, making me sandwiches and fetching cups of orange juice, implying I may not be in as much pain as I seem, comfort in the back of the car when the wind directed my flowing tears after leaving my mother’s burial, sharing a cab ride, and a cracked joke about my mom on her way to heaven asking for a cigarette.

I’ll remember you as a selfish bitch, grieving inwardly and out, unconcerned when it came to everyone else, money-seeking cuntbag, couldn’t carry out a sister’s dying wish of cremation, head out in the clouds of complete nothingness, forgotten identification card, planning a memorial for death as a healthy outlet, taking time off work to eat like a greedy hog who’s content to be lazy, judging others, caring for nonsense drama like a half-sister threatening you with words on Facebook and sending me on my way with one-hundred dollars and bags of brand new clothing.

I’ll remember you as a developing friend who became my good friend, who redirected his attraction to me so we can be platonic, who wanted to represent something new and different in my life, as the one who cared for me with warm compresses, tending to my cyst, having meals prepared along with home accommodations so I can maneuver around the house with a broken ankle, who gave me poetry every day of light and love, hands of great passion which caressed my face and taught me about warmth I have missed, who visited my dying mother along with me because you felt, more than I that it was significant.

-Pennington

Fracture Fibula


The findings:

Oblique fracture of the distal fibular metaphysis with approximately 5mm posterior displacement of the distal fracture fragment and 4mm medial displacement of the proximal fibular shaft. Widening syndesmosis. Tibiotalar subluxation. And more.

How did this occur?

Longboarding. I became overzealous in furthering beginner progression. Despite wrapped fear around my neck, I over rode with bravery when the board decided to slip from under me. The ankle caught under my other leg and as I fell my bodyweight landed heavy and moody. Ankle twisted and became deformed. Instantly I knew it broke. In a collective moment I tried to straighten my leg and attempted to twist out the ankle. Time became nonexistent. Everything was present in slow motion.

What now? 

Waiting on surgery. The first surgeon decided to tell me he couldn’t assist me because they don’t take my insurance. A full 8 days wasted after showing up in his office. I enjoyed how in the surgeon’s mind it was okay to make a person travel with no access to a car or wheelchair all the way to his office just to hear a no.

Evidently, he’s never had a broken ankle as he would have been better empathetic and understood how difficult and how mentally frightening it is to travel by and with crutches. Aside from this, I’m reminded how cruel the world is and how money rules without question of morals and how poor people get treated unfairly without a quiver of emotion. I now await another surgeon.

Mood: Somewhat stable with a side of delirium. The positive light in my gas tank is fading (somewhat). Still strong in other ways. Still blessed for those taking care of me, for continual healing, for people’s prayers and all the works that go unseen behind the scenes.

To be continued…

-Pennington

Fracture Fibula


The findings:

Oblique fracture of the distal fibular metaphysis with approximately 5mm posterior displacement of the distal fracture fragment and 4mm medial displacement of the proximal fibular shaft. Widening syndesmosis. Tibiotalar subluxation. And more.

How did this occur?

Longboarding. I became overzealous in furthering beginner progression. Despite wrapped fear around my neck, I over rode with bravery when the board decided to slip from under me. The ankle caught under my other leg and as I fell my bodyweight landed heavy and moody. Ankle twisted and became deformed. Instantly I knew it broke. In a collective moment I tried to straighten my leg and attempted to twist out the ankle. Time became nonexistent. Everything was present in slow motion.

What now? 

Waiting on surgery. The first surgeon decided to tell me he couldn’t assist me because they don’t take my insurance. A full 8 days wasted after showing up in his office. I enjoyed how in the surgeon’s mind it was okay to make a person travel with no access to a car or wheelchair all the way to his office just to hear a no.

Evidently, he’s never had a broken ankle as he would have been better empathetic and understood how difficult and how mentally frightening it is to travel by and with crutches. Aside from this, I’m reminded how cruel the world is and how money rules without question of morals and how poor people get treated unfairly without a quiver of emotion. I now await another surgeon.

Mood: Somewhat stable with a side of delirium. The positive light in my gas tank is fading (somewhat). Still strong in other ways. Still blessed for those taking care of me, for continual healing, for people’s prayers and all the works that go unseen behind the scenes.

To be continued…

-Pennington