Page Changes, Tiredness

  For those of you who haven't noticed, I've added a couple new pages to my blog.  You can reach them at the top of the page.  The first one is a treatment log, and the second one is images, articles, and videos that directly relate to being a veteran with RSD.  I have also changed one of my links to Rebecca's Whims.  I felt inclined to add this link because she makes herbal pillows that really do help with relaxation and muscle fatigue, things I know others with RSD and chronic pain are very familiar with.  That's about it for page updates.  Oh, and I've been hearing many people comment that there's no place to comment on my page.  Please make sure you're in the blog entry by clicking its title and I assure you there will be a place to comment.

  The weekend was a busy one, and I've been paying for it dearly over the last couple days.  I've been in a bit of a daze and fading in and out of reality.  I'm sure this would be a fun thing if I was on vacation and wanted to catch up on sleep, but it's simply what life is now when I attempt to exert myself.  Today has been a bit of a recovery day as well, but I think the worst is over and I'm ready to sit down and write some new poems and short stories, as well as work on other projects I have going.  Please follow the link to the right to Shear's Shorts to read some of my work and listen to my music if you have the time and inclination to do so.

  Sorry this is such a brief entry, but I assure you there will be plenty to write about over the next few weeks with my Social Security trial coming up on the 3rd of March, and my medical exams having been completed for the Veteran's Benefits claim.

  Thanks for stopping by,

        K.M. Shear

The Dust Settles

  So the dust has settled and I'm able to write again.  My family is safe and sound; gifted with parents who love us and took us in.  The Chicago Tribune article caused quite the ruckus, and I already have appointments for re-evaluation in a couple weeks.  Funny how it took months before, but now only takes a day or two...
  I plan on putting up all the ratings material from my case after the appointments and ratings letters arrive.  This can then be used for others in the military with RSD.  They can hand that in and use it as a template for how they'd like to be rated.  God willing, it will make their road an easier one to traverse than ours.  To all of you who have helped me with my cause, my sincerest thanks.
  The room I'm living in is providing me the capabilities to write, and record, my music because I can recline while recording and don't have to sit upright.  Sadly, my RSD seems to be spreading into my right arm and hand...
  My night terrors are getting worse, and I'm finding it harder to wake from them.  It's like being trapped in hell most nights.  Those dreams where you fall, and awake before you land...  I don't wake up and suffer the landing.  I have some medical appointments with a PTSD doctor to discuss these symptoms.  I pray they have an answer...

Wind blows.

Fire burns.

Water runs.

And the earth,

She's rising up,

To meet my feet.

Thank you for reading,

Kevin

In Transition

I'm currently in the middle of our transition.  Lots of boxes and clutter, but we're quickly getting through it all.  I'm going to edit our eviction footage tomorrow, and attempt to have it on YouTube by tomorrow evening.  Thanks to everyone for wanting to be kept updated.
  Since I haven't had access to the Internet I've been utilizing a journal for my poetry, but now that things are back to normal I'll be getting more of my creative works up and online very soon.
Thanks for all your patience,
Kev

Looking toward the future.

  I've informed the V.A. of my address countless times.  They still send my mail to my mother's house.  A letter came in this week, that they're going to be having a hearing in regards to my case.  I'm sending out an APB because I can have as many people testify as I want.  I figure, if we have enough people there, it will take a long time and I'll have a major pain attack on-site.  They'll have to rush me to the ER, and will have a very difficult time saying I shouldn't get benefits.  I'll post the exact dates, and perhaps send save the date cards...

  My pain is being managed better.  Still hurts, but I can get around a bit now without bursting into tears or passing out.  I'm becoming more tolerant of the narcotics.  I'm taking two pills most days now, and I've been talking with my doctor about moving to three on days I need a third.  I wish there was a non-narcotic medication we could switch to.  Switching between the two would decrease tolerance.  Unfortunately, I'm told, there isn't anything else they have at the V.A.

  The Marine Corps League came buy a couple days ago; dropped off two large bags of toys for Lincoln and Ashlynn.  I spent a good part of that day in tears.  Santa really did come for them this year...

I can't wait till I have my benefits and can do the same for another veteran...

Good News, Bad News

  Monday afternoon, and the reporter and photographer came through my front door.  Questions where asked over the camera's clicks; answered, at times, through clenched teeth.  In all the story was told, and I spent the night in pain.  When they left they wanted to get some video, so they scheduled to come back on Tuesday.
  Tuesday morning, bad pain, and the photographer walked through the door.  She set up, filmed, asked questions.  Pain consumed, and it was time to go to the ER.  That poor photographer, she looked so worried, but she was getting the real story.  She was capturing, on film, what real pain looks like.  RSD is the worst pain in the world, worse than cancer or natural child birth, and she was right in the middle of it.
  One of the few things I remember is the look of terror on her face.
  I called my mother, begged her to hurry, to take me to the hospital.
  Time passed.  The reporter took photographs, filmed.  I gasped for breath and struggled to keep my body from tightening against the pain; fought to stay conscious and present while my mind was trying to shut down from overload.  Then I was in the car and rushing for the ER.
  Vomited in my mouth, swallowed, and blacked out twice on the way.  Prayers to God to give me strength; get me through one more time.  Arrival, and a wait for someone to come with a gurney or wheelchair to get me inside.
  They're rough getting me out of the car.  Big burly police man.  He embraces me, keeps me from falling to the ground, and it hurts more than he knows; could understand.  Vitals where checked, and then I was rushed into a large scary room.  'Oh God, why this room,' I thought.  Crash cart, machines that ping, all things medical surrounded me.  My vitals must have been extreme to have put me in that room.  I.V. run, drugs promised, and then I laid in wait, in pain, in prayer.  Minutes ticked by like hours.
  The doctor arrives, asks what is usually done for me.  The nurse arrives and pumps the drugs into my system; first a needle for nausea, then a needle for pain, and lastly a needle to calm.  Minutes pass, and the pain is still pretty severe, so she hits me again with another dose of pain killers.
  In all they dosed me with enough dalauted and Valium to knock over a rhino, and I got off the gurney and into the wheelchair on my own.  Then I wheeled myself to the exit.
  The reporters where there for a lot of the time.  They asked questions, and took photos.  In all, the two women working on my story had been some of the most compassionate and endearing individuals I've met.  Today I will send them a letter or email with all of the gratitude I can muster.
 

Today is the first day

  I was up all night last night.  The pain was excruciating, and it took all my strength to not cry out and wake up my wife and child.  This morning it's a little better, but not by much.  Today is the day that I'm to be interviewed by a reporter.  Maybe God wants me to do this in the hospital?  If things keep going the way they are, that's where we'll be.
  This interview is like a first day of triumph; a small dent in ignorance and gross mistreatment.  If I can reach just one person with this article, and help them understand what people with RSD go through, I will have succeeded.  Because it only takes one person to change the future of our veterans.  One phone call, one letter.  One.  Because if one person does it, I know there will be others, others that will add to the one voice.
  I'm going to take my meds and work on some poetry.  Writing has been a fantastic coping mechanism.  I've lost a bit of my urge to game, and have found that it isn't helping as much in regards to my pain management.  I just haven't been able to get myself immersed enough.  Immersed, and away from this daily nightmare.
  I'm really having a bad time.  It's hard to admit it, but I'm worn thin.  This isn't a plea for help, I'm not going to kill myself (I have no urge to do so), but I feel like simply sleeping my days away.  Except, I can't sleep...
  It's good that I can't sleep.  Today is the first day...

One Step Closer

  I feel like I'm one small step closer in my quest to change the bureaucracies that govern veterans lives.  Sometime this week I'm expecting to be interviewed by a large, Chicago based, newspaper.  With the simple possibility of my story being told, politicians are scrambling to do what they can.  They know I'm not afraid to drop bombs.
  I finally got the 'OK' to bring in pamphlets to North Chicago.  The fliers detail the workings of an RSD support group that could be a positive influence in veterans' lives when they're suffering through this pain.  I had called a couple weeks ago, waited for a phone call back that never came.  I called again and was given the run around.  The third time I called I simply stated, "It has come to my attention that you do not want to offer the best of services to the veterans seeking medical attention at your facility."  Within seconds a stammering woman informed me that they would be happy to have the fliers on hand to give to patients with RSD.
  Today I'm going to call some of the auto makers who received bail out money.  I'm going to ask if they'd bail me out of my auto loan.  Who knows, maybe they'll pass along some of the charity.
  I really hate doing things like this.  Calling and asking for help, getting food and the such from charities.  I don't want to be a 'charity case'.  I'm at my imaginations end though, and I'm not sure what else I can do.
  Until next time, thanks for reading!
  Kev

So Much To Say

Because I'm home all day, with nothing much to do, I've been investing my time in music, art, and writing.  I started a new blog for my work.  If anyone is interested there is a link at the bottom of the page, or you can click here.

Today is the wake for a young lance corporal who was killed overseas.  He was only 20 years old and left behind a wife, 19 years old, and a daughter of only a few months.  Tomorrow they will lay him to rest in a local cemetery.  I wish I knew him;  could thank him for having made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom and safety.
In the near future I will be posting a link to a foundation, set up by the mother of another dead marine, that utilizes Build-A-Bear to give hope to the children who's parent is overseas.  They're setting it up so that the parent can record a message before they ship out, and then the organization gives the recording to the child to be placed in a bear.  I'll have an embedded video and links for those of you who are willing to make donations.

I've been teetering on the edge of needing to go to the hospital.  The pain gets to the point where I'm ready to pass out and then resides.  Coastal tides of nightmare pain.  I imagine it could be equated to that feeling of nausea that comes and goes when you're sick.  You simply want to be sick and done with it.  I simply want to black out and be shot up with liquid pain relief.
Thanks for taking the time to read my words, and I hope you'll take a few moments to enjoy my creative side.

Providing Support

This week I spent several hours trying to get the word to other veterans with RSD that there is a support group available for them here in Northern Illinois.  I was able to get a couple people that are going to try to make our meeting this Sunday, but not nearly as many as I wanted.  I felt like Schindler thinking that he could have done more.  But my work isn't over in the least.
This Sunday I'll be picking up literature about the group to give to the Milwaukee and North Chicago VA medical centers.
It's funny.  Milwaukee told me, upon my time of calling, to bring the literature and they'd get it out to everyone who was diagnosed with RSD.  North Chicago told me to not bother until they got back in touch with me.  How sad is that?  Someone comes knocking on their door with a free support group for RSD Veterans and they don't readily accept it.  I fully plan on calling them every hour, on the hour, until they 'decide' to offer the group to other veterans.  What gives them the right to close off an avenue of support?
I was also able to get several new members through facebook.  I'm very excited to see some new faces, and proud that I may have provided a means for people to connect and not feel so alone.
Two, very good, friends of mine are going through a very difficult time.  It breaks my heart because I know that they love each other very much.  None of you may know them by name, but I'm sure if you ask God for his help and care, He'll know who you're talking about.
On the gaming front I've been able to game with some outstanding guys in a clan called Divine Knights.  These guys have been supportive, constructive, and welcoming.  Which brings me to one more thing...
I'd like to take the time to personally thank Corey Lease (A.K.A. Dk_Xavier, Da_Xavier).  Corey stuck with me when I was being severely mistreated by a PS3 clan known as Hell Hounds.  I was essentially kicked out of the clan for being disabled.  He left with me, and is the one who helped me get in with the Divine Knights.  I couldn't ask for a better gaming friend.

Veteran's Day 2010

Today has been a fantastic day, despite the ever present pain and being sick.  I received recognition from my mother, wife, and neighbors.  Chris, my neighbor, spent a few hours playing the new game 'Call of Duty:Black Ops'.  Amy made scallops for dinner.  I've never had better scallops anywhere.
I called the NorthWest Herald, beseeching them, again, to run my story.  I felt like I had a little added ammunition with November being national RSD awareness month, and today being Veteran's Day.  I wrote a Facebook note asking for people to write letters and help in that fashion.  We'll see what comes of the endeavors.
A couple days ago I received a letter from the Illinois Department of Human Services.  My case for vocational rehabilitation has been closed due to inability to complete any form of work.  My attorney was extremely excited.
The last week or so has been terrible for pain.  I've been unable to do much, and I'm finding it difficult to even get up the drive to get in the shower.  There's an RSD support group meeting this Sunday.  That will be good, as I'm feeling a need for some support.  Some days are easier than others to find drive and desire to do things.  The last week has not been easier.
I'm happy to have given what I did for everyone.  If I could do it all over again, I would without a second thought.  Please take the time, if you can, to write your governing officials and request that the VA add RSD as a diagnosis in their ratings handbook, demand that veterans receive better medical treatment, and spread the word about RSD.
My sincerest gratitude to all of you who take the time to read my words,
Kev

1 million hits...

  They claim she only has three weeks left to live.  She's undiagnosable.  They don't show any medical evidence that she's going to die.  Many people think she's just suffering from an iodine deficiency.  She suffers from constant pain like me; is trapped in her home like me.  She has a 20/20 spot on her suffering.  The video gets 1 million hits.
  I thought that I might be able to sponge off of all the attention.  I linked a new video montage I put together with my song "Through the Pain" playing in the background.  I posted on her blogspot page explaining my situation.  I offered her my condolences and asked that she may use some of the popularity to help make a change in veterans lives.  I offered myself for this girl to talk to.
  Today, all comments have been deleted from YouTube, video responses included.  My comment went completely ignored on her blogspot page.  Seems people would rather spend all their time focused on a disease that supposedly only affects 1/million people, and ignore the many veterans returning home injured.
  I don't understand.  If she truly only has 3 weeks to live, and is undiagnosable, isn't she going to die?  Wouldn't it be more appropriate to ask for prayer?  I honestly don't think she's going to die.  She may feel like she's dying, but I know that feeling, and I'm still here.
  My video has had 30 hits.  A situation that is fixable and people won't take the time.  Maybe it's because it is fixable and would require a lot of work.  People offer their help when they don't think they'll be taken up on it?
I realize this isn't the end all of methods to have my story heard, but I thought that perhaps a person already demonstrating compassion would lend a bit of it to the cause.

 

A Rock in the Pond

When injustices struck at my family and I, rage was all I could muster.  I yelled, fumed, and worked myself into more pain than I needed.  Now I'm no longer raging, but directing my energies to bringing positive change.
A few months ago I tossed a small rock into a big pond.  Yesterday, and today, I finally saw the ripples the rock caused.  I was privileged to speak, personally, with State Senator Althoff.  I was able to share my proposed changes with her.  As of now it looks as if she'll be working on putting together Illinois representatives in an attempt to fix the problems that have plagued my life.  Together, with Congressman Manzullo, Senator Durbin, and others, I believe we'll actually be able to put something together to be presented and possibly passed into law!  It may be wishful thinking, but dreams are what built this nation, and dreams will change it.

On a side note...  It's already the second day of the month and I haven't written a single word for my proposed novel.  I should really find a method to discipline myself.

Today, while out on a brief trip with my family, a woman looked me in the eyes and said "Thank you."  I was wearing my U.S.M.C. sweatshirt, and I was speechless.  All I could do was nod to her.  I hope she understood...