BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 219 She continued her smile as she positioned me for my shot. I felt the needle enter my thigh, (everything else was so hard by then from injections they couldn‟t even shove a needle into my body), and I heard her voice. “Enjoy it, honey, „cause this is your last pain shot.” Goddamned fuckin‟ doctors! Who the hell said I didn‟t need any more pain shots? Why, this thing‟s gonna hurt like hell until, oh, I don‟t know, 1975, maybe? Why the hell cut me off now? This sucks! And suck, it did. It sucked the life out of me for a while. The shot got me one more incredible buzz, and I reveled in the first two or three hours. After that, it was pills, only. Not even Demerol, damn it. Some kind of pain killer that was only good for killing pain. How goddamned smart is that, I ask you? Not very, as I saw it. I spent the next three and a half days with six quilted blankets covering me up because I was freezing so bad I shook. However, I sweated like a pig because I was so damned hot. I was nauseous beyond belief and couldn‟t even think about eating, let alone allow anyone to put a spoon of anything in my mouth. <strong>My</strong> head ached and the throbbing pain was relentless. I suffered without end from some ugly hallucinations, and my paranoia was like someone being asked if they ever voted for Jimmy Carter, when they had voted for him. Eventually, my roller coaster ride through Hell was over and I calmed down enough to talk in a weak voice. I was so drained I wanted to die. I suppose that‟s why I was so easily able to resist the temptation to sample all the drugs my friends tasted in our high school years. I‟d been addicted and made it back. Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 220 Not only did I never want to take that trip again, I didn‟t think I‟d make it back a second time. The doctors at first told me I‟d never walk normally again, and might never even be able to regain the strength in that leg to walk at all. Then they said it would be a year, maybe two, before I‟d be off crutches. I‟d definitely be in a wheel chair for at least six months. They were sure of that. I made Mom get rid of the wheel chair after three weeks. I practiced on my crutches each day, using them to make it to the bathroom, instead of using my urinal. Even when the pain was nearly unbearable, I forced myself to use those damned crutches and get out of the house. Sometimes I just went for a walk on the sidewalk out front. I even used our driveway, which was harder, as it was dirt and had an upslope as it neared the garage. I also tried going up the hill on Cross Street, but that was too much. I had to scoot back down on my butt after a while. One day, when Mom was due home from work, I was sitting on the front steps, watching for her car. When I saw her heading toward me, I got up and limped the ten or twelve feet to the tree at the end of our walk, by the sidewalk. Swinging it like a baseball bat, I demolished one crutch, then the other, and watched her pull in the driveway with her eyes agape. “Take me to Sears, Mom. I‟m gonna get a cane.” We did, three months after I was home from the hospital. <strong>At</strong> least a year and half ahead of what the doctors predicted. I was goddamned awfully tired of being a cripple already. Supposedly, being a cripple and using a cane made me more vulnerable. I didn‟t see it that way. Although I no longer had my previous agility, and wouldn‟t for a while, I was openly walking around with a weapon. That‟s how I saw it. Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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