Stories - FD Thornton

 It’s a bright, sunny 80°F outside this morning with a few thinly veiled clouds high in the sky. I woke up late to a shout from the new ice maker we had installed in our fridge. Last night was not my best work when it came to sleep. I woke up several times to all kinds of haunts going on inside my head. Many of you who read my words see me as stoic and even-headed when it comes to life. But what many of you may not realize is that deep in my memory, I am still haunted by a past filled with fear and mental torment. I understand the overuse of psychological terms today. Concepts like trauma and PTSD are thrown around way more than they should be. I’m one of the last generation that was told to “suck it up, buttercup” during a crisis. But living for decades under the “physician, heal thyself” mentality, the skills I often use sometimes just don’t work. So right now, I’m going through a moment of anxiety and clinical depression, masking it all with that same old stoic face I’ve use...

  I slept rough last night , I dreamed I was on a van being stuffed with people to go on a fun adventure. But we all knew by the way we were being stuffed into that van, that it was going to be anything but fun. Still I had trouble waking up from the dream, I knew I wanted to get out but I couldn’t, till I finally woke up and sat here. It’s a bright hazy day in the neighborhood, a total lack of kids outside playing still weirds me out. But I guess parents today are much different than we were, where we knew the neighbors and the kids could run free. Other than that, I suppose I’m feeling that entrapment again of being stuck in the apartment myself. With no money to go anywhere, not even to drive to the park because of the distance. There’s no place to sit outside around here, where parents look at you like some weirdo for sitting alone. Thankfully my wife doesn’t have to carry that burden, cause everybody loves her and kids approach her like a grandmother. I guess I just give o...

  Well we got supper simmering in the pan, a simple combination of gold potatoes, celery, bell pepper, onions, and mushrooms with ground turkey and mushroom soup. with a pot of sticky rice warming next to it. It may not sound like much of a summertime meal. But with meat hovering at around $8 a pound, you do what you can do with the cheapest cuts. After a day and a weekend deciding between what groceries to buy, how much gas to put in the car, and buying medicine, this land of plenty is starting to look like a land of the privileged few. While the rest of “us” blame everybody but ourselves for the mess we are in. And before any of you get on your high horses and complain away, let’s all be grateful we still live in a land where we politely tolerate each other for now. But don’t worry your “revolution” is coming soon enough. But what it is that none of you realize is that it was never about white, black, tan, or yellow. It’s about rich and poor, and we already know who’s running...

 It’s a bright, sunny day outside. I’m finishing up taking my gummy vitamins, chewing very carefully in my damaged mouth . I’ve spent the last few days in a bloodbath with a leaking liver clot where my tooth once sat. My dentist wasn’t able to do anything about it , so she sent me to the ER to have them cauterize it. After an hour-long trip to the ER and a three-hour wait, they did nothing and sent me home with a pat on the back. They did tell me to make an appointment with my dentist and stop taking a blood thinner till then. To my dentist's credit, she did call me after hours on her personal phone to check on me. I told her the story of the ER, and she told me to be at her office at 8 AM Monday morning and to be careful till then. I’m trying not to be mad at anybody; I mean, I heard enough while I was in the ER. It’s just sad to see an understaffed ER get overwhelmed with cases that should be handled by a Family Doctor. But with our current pay-as-you-play, for-profit heal...

It’s 5:13 in the morning and I’ve been up since 4:40. I had a bad dream about trying to drive through the Italian Alps in an electric car with a limited charge and no cash. The roads were lined with toll booths that only took cash and not a charging station in sight. The discomfort of the dream awoke me. So with my ears ringing, and my heart and head pounding, I lay here now at 5:22 wide awake writing this pathetic shit. So I finished the first paragraph, and my mind began to wander. So I started doom scrolling around to apps I enjoy. One which feeds my head and the other that feeds my soul. Now it’s 6:25 and my day is coming into focus. The ice pack on my head is working, my thoughts aren’t as urgent, and my thoughts are relaxing. The old heart is working much more smoothly. Recently a young friend commented on a piece I wrote, that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I wish I could explain to them that the piece was just a moment, a photograph if you will. Where I have now purged mys...

  After three days, I finally get to start my day with my established routine. I find that as a retired person who’s also a caregiver, it’s important to establish routines. If for nothing else, it keeps your own ass sane. My son and my wife already have their established routines down pat, with my wife going to bed at 9:00 every evening and waking up at exactly 7 a.m. Since both of them can fix their own breakfasts, my main job is logistics, paying the bills, and getting them from one place to another. Sprinkle in reminders to bathe, clean your room, and get ready on time—and you pretty much have my day. Other than trying to keep my head on straight, I manage the pill dispensing, their doctor appointments, cooking most meals, taking them to get haircuts—you know, the usual stuff we take for granted. But after 39 years, it’s pretty much routine now. Of course, there are the setbacks, such as my time being in and out of the hospital or recuperating, and my own bouts with having a m...