” Buried Alive”

26 June

3:47:32 PM

Yes, here I am, kind of challenged but lap top on my  . . . Lap!

Yesterday, seems so very far away, yesterday . . .

I was collected by the Red Cross bus and driven to a Mobility Wheel Chair Occupational Clinic, whew! The drive there nearly killed me, literally. The driver was a real Kiwi Bloke, lacking in sensibility, the feminine quotient non existent :) he had me into the rear seats, seatbelt fastened, he turned on his GPS and off we went. The seats were dreadful, no head brace, nothing to hold onto. Suspension felt non existent. There I was flopping around like a scarecrow in a hurricane. He asked me how I was doing as the radio played and my eyes were closed, focussing on holding myself together, as he bounced us 35 minutes north. I couldn’t answer beyond, “not too good”, which he didn’t hear or simply ignored. Then, once we reached the town where the Hospital is situated he deviated, taking the most detouring way, corner after corner, as I tried not to throw up. I couldn’t believe he could be so insensible or simply zoned out. We arrived at the hospital where I tried to share the problem with him, he couldn’t, didn’t want to, hear. Never again will I use a driver named John.

The clinic was impressive. Four people along with Emily and Me.

Luckily we had done our research, luckily I had bought an interim chair as a testing device, luckily we have learned to speak up for our selves. Finally they got on board. Maybe we are a bit pushy but who knows what we would have received if we didn’t speak up. I often wonder if I am too outspoken but then stop myself. Hey Richard, if you don’t tell them, who ever them is, they will never know. So we spoke our piece and felt good about it.

But today, I am fucked. It took a great deal out of me and my sleep was not fun. My body, aka muscles, twitched and jerked all night. I could not get comfortable. My breathing was an issue. The concept of being Buried Alive really resonated with me. And here I am, in my studio, in my interim chair, uncomfortable with a neck that is unsupported and aching. Time to stop writing and put my feet up, ciao.

About kiwicafe

1955 . . . as a teenager in New Zealand, according to friends :) I talked incessantly of photography & philosophy, in my early twenties I hung out with photographers as I began my film editing career in Australia, I bought a variety of cameras, a faux snapper I guess, more interested in film editing, travel and back deck philosophy through which my curiosity took me from Sydney to New York & Venice Beach. For 45 years have I enjoyed working with some truly great creative directors, writers, art directors, film directors, photographers, producers et al . . . hopefully I learned a thing or two! I did win a bunch of awards and went from Editor of the Year in Australia to one of the top commercial film editors in America, not bad for a skinny kid from New Zealand. 2003 . . . newly divorced, I took the pledge, became 'one of many', an American Citizen & went Searching for Zane Grey's America. For two glorious years I filmed, photographed & blogged my way around the American West. 2006 . . . returned to Aotearoa NZ, restoring a small vineyard and continuing to film, photograph and write. I exhibited & sold some images, harvested a great vintage of both red & white, sold the vineyard, edited a movie or two & now, 2013, I have discovered a whole new journey for myself, via motor neurone disease. I continue to practice my love for film | fotography | philosophy as best I can, I am in a good place, there are no mistakes in life!
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4 Responses to ” Buried Alive”

  1. Bobby Smalheiser says:

    Hi Richard, so sorry to hear about your journey. Have not heard anything about you in a long time. You certainly were one of the most colorful characters I have come in contact with in many years, a great experience. Hope your journey is easier than your trip in the red cross van.
    Bobby Smalheiser

  2. Michael Deane says:

    I’m very much fascinated by your journey. And I admire and applaud your bravery in the face of a difficult illness. Keep your chin and fight the good fight!


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