Still healing from stroke, I am now forced to move

In 2017, I suffered a stroke. To say it changed my life isn't enough. It killed me. The person I was, the man I had worked so hard to become, he no longer exists.

How does it feel to have a stroke? It's a weird electric feeling that seemed like it was ripping my skull in half. Every single day since it first happened, an involuntary spasm, followed by numbing pain in my right arm, occurs. For me, the pain is not the worst part of it.  There is an almost tactile fog which fills my thoughts and stifles my memories. It's a blurring feeling which slows my mind to a crawl. A strange sense which makes me doubt that " memories" as they come to me are, in fact, real. Did the people or events I am on the edge of remembering ever really exist? When I try to focus and concentrate, there is a real physical sensation that my physical skull has become two iron balls in opposition to each other, rolling one uneasily against the other, clacking together in a pathetic friction, seeking to ignite one lucid thought.

It took me one year of complete blankness before I could find any kind of joy in writing again. For one year, I simply could not write a thing.

Since I was five years old, I had written for pleasure, for self-improvement, and for communication with others. It seemed to be my purpose in life. The stroke totally robbed me of this for one year. When I had writer's block before, I could always turn to creating Collage Art. The stroke robbed me of this ability as well. Because my right arm and right hand have not recovered from the stroke, I cannot physically create Collage Art. For a creative person not to able be to create? It is like being trapped inside your own body, a thing which is more like a prison than one's physical manifestation. I had a raging desire to create, but my brain was empty, and my arm and hand were both unwilling.

I was not, and I'm still not, able to work as I once did. What am I now?

Many artists struggle to make a living. When I was healthy, I supported myself by running my own public relations company. This allowed me to harness my creative abilities by getting power into the hands of the powerless and disenfranchised.

I am the person who defeated the Karl Rove black ops campaign on behalf of Republican Gubernatorial candidate Bill Simon when he ran against Gray Davis. Rove had bogus photos purporting to show Davis receiving campaign contributions in the State Capitol building in Sacramento which would constitute a felony. In a widely reported press release entitled " Kafka vs. Capra," I informed the media of the facts: that Rove and his cohorts had doctored photos of a home in Santa Monica to make it look like the State Capitol. I defeated Rove.

I'm also the person who created the campaigns, along with client Dr. Jennifer Conrad, that got the declawing of cats outlawed in the cities of West Hollywood and Beverly Hills.

I introduced two "Oprah Winfrey Show" producers to The Agape Church Choir, which led to the Choir singing at President Obama's Inaugural.

My written and spoken communication skills were exemplary and I was sought after. I can say I am the only person to work for former Los Angeles Police Chief Bill Bratton and radical Atlanta Rapper DJ Jihad in the same month.

One of my other former clients were the producers of "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition," which aired on ABC and was the number one TV show in America at the time.

I booked the entertainment for President Clinton at his 1996 Hollywood Rally (actor/comedian and expert banjo player George Segal and his Beverly Hills Unlisted Jazz Band).

When I did the PR for Conscious Living Expo, I demanded that they advertise on Spanish-speaking radio and the Los Angeles area African-American paper "The Sentinel." Some people in Northern California couldn't or wouldn't believe that brown and black people did Yoga. I had to fight for days. When they finally advertised where I demanded, they ended up with the most successful Expos they ever held. 

And now, after the stroke, the adventure seems over.

It's been a little over three years since the worst part of it--the want-to-die part of it. The utterly-feeling-useless part of it. The most heinous part--the dealing with the American Health Industry part of it. For me, it's very much like they provide you with a graveyard and then tell you what song you best be whistling as you walk past it. No healing, just maintenance, just somebody who makes the doctor feel comfortable in his or her abilities.

These words of mine dig deep in me and help me find reasons to live.

Many would say it isn't much. But words, and rebuilding my ability to form words into sentences, these are overwhelmingly important lifelines for me. Being able to connect with people who I feel are kindred spirits. Communication takes me out of the physical pain and psychic struggle to be able to produce something that others might enjoy. In this post-stroke incarnation, the big lesson that I have learned again is that being of service is one true way of being at peace. 

I am so very grateful to those of you of who have said kind things about my writing.

However, as all artists know, money is also needed for survival. I am living in uneasy circumstances. I am living on Disability and have not been working due to the problems with my arm and hand. For the first time since I first suffered the stroke, I have run out of money.

I know that people don't like to be asked for money. Believe me, people don't like to have to ask you for money. A stroke or some other illness which robs a person of his or her ability to work can happen to anybody at any time. My monthly Disability check is not enough. My savings are gone.  My need is real.

Due to my ongoing physical challenges, medical bills and costs continue to mount, and with my many new needs since the stroke, organizations that are supposed to help, have thus far failed to help. I have spent out-of-pocket on things that were allegedly "covered," but in fact, were not. I am still struggling financially to try to keep up with it all.

As I ask for more help, this circumstance is also an an opportunity to thank friends for helping me get this far. A year and a half ago, I sought your gracious assistance as I focused on recovering from a mini-stroke that had knocked me backwards. I am still recovering from that, but there has been some slight improvement.  Those of you who have followed my story on Facebook know that I must move. What my landlord has put me through should never happen to anybody.

Moving on from this apartment is necessary, as is leaving behind all the pain and struggle it has been for me. As I seek to move, I have encountered the next reality, which include not only the difficulties that are part of the pandemic, but also paying for transport to apartments for viewing, the sheer expense for necessities like a rental deposit, some new furntiture, curtains, just the basic necessities in setting up a household. In the very Spirit of Connectivity that we share, I state simply, whatever you can contribute will help mightily.

I send my love to all, and remind you that I am forever grateful to my friends. I hope that I brought you some joy and fun and even a memorable picture or phrase over the years....

Thank You,

Thomas