It ain’t easy being Indian… (Feb. 2016)

By Ricey Wild
News From Indian Country

Through blurry vision I saw two white men staring at me from the end of my hospital bed; one seemed relatively aware wearing a crisp, white docotors coat but the other was red-eyed, unshaven and generally unkempt wearing wrinkly blue scrubs. They introduced themselves; the one (the crumply guy) I knew was my neurosurgeon who had the day before performed my first and then second spinal fusion, the first one having been done almost three years ago just above the one I received the day before.

After five months of excruciating pain it had been determined that I needed another surgery because the disc below had slipped also and that there was really no other option but to add to the hardware I already have. Here I want to add multiple expletives because I knew just how horrible the previous one was and the toll on my body and mind, but being a realist I knew very well I could not go on with any quality of life as I was.

When I watch television I see people dancing and cavorting about simply by chewing gum and I wish it was me. I see animals and other critters like children running smiling even after doing face plants in mud having a helluva good time and even Betty White at 90 is break-dancing but I? I’ve had trouble going to the bathroom, maneuvering through five cats and a dog only to find out I couldn’t even accomplish that necessary bodily function.

It has only been four weeks as of this writing and I get around as well as I can using my walker but that isn’t even the worst part. I have to use COMPRESSION SOCKS lingerie (giggle!) and can’t go anywhere because none of my shoes fit. I would laugh and laugh but I’m just not there yet.  

That isn’t even the sad part. Before surgery I did everything I could think of to make sure everything was in order and that I need not worry about anyone or anything; my much dog-eared list was all crossed off: Lorri and Chris were to have a lodger, Mitzi who gets along with their dog Cesar. Lorri looked after the cats and their water dish and she promised to not have loud parties, but if she did to invite a few cops and my papers taken care of so it was a go.

My Son Steve and Turtle cleaned the house and made it easier to get around in and I had someone who was going to make home visits for physcal therapy which I deserately need. Then I was informed that I do not qualify for employee insurance and was cut off from everything I require to recover and become better. Here I have to say I know of hateful people who will laugh in evil joy at my predicament. To them I say all I have right now is time, all I have to do is wait.

I give my love freely not because I expect something back; I do it because there are People out there who need it desperately and NOW! My cause is beginning to flicker into a flame of compassion and activism and when I’m done hurting in body like I am I’m coming for you. You only get get what you put out there.

Pray for the Dalai Lama.

One time ago on a blood-spattered war-painted horse in a time not so long ago too far, far away were two young  cousins; the girl was driving and the slighterly older very handsome cousin was riding backwards shooting at the U.S. Calvary and never missed a fatal shot. Both riders were open-mouthed with delight laughing and sometimes choking on the dust and blood they churned up in their personal mayhem upon those who would exterminate their People to farm upon the blood-soaked lands.   

Later that night sitting together and listening to the tales of bravery and those of loss and sadness the fire began to die out and “Kick Out the Sky” turned to “Sparkle on the Waters” and said, “I wish you weren’t my cousin”. Sparkles eyelids dropped and she whispered, “Me too”. They eventually went their own ways because they knew their union would be highly inappropriate had they married and would have been shunned.

Several centuries + 40 years would roll over into atomic particles and reassemble before they saw each other again and even though both had been through many hardships and horrors the moment their eyes met, all sadness dropped away for that precious moment in time. Just for that nano-second. Kicks still had the fire and determination in his big brown eyes but there was a lot more there too; sorrow, frustration, deep aches and I too saw he recognized these same qualities in me. There we were outside of an Olive Garden making our friends take mulptiple pictures of us (Oh and of my brother Michael Wynde/Kicks cousin too. We are the last of the Charette’s all together before hey, it starts all over again) :).

Kicks and I have made plans to see each other again but neither of us drives (He refuses to get a DL license on the grounds he don’t have to) and I have no vehicle. That there ole war pony misses us too I’m sure.

Now that I’m talking about gratitude my beloved cousin Joe Fasthorse “Kicks” was in the Big Town to settle my brother Michael Wynde’s and our part in his estate. Joe knows more about our side of the Charette family combined and showed up just to help us during Court proceedings.

I had asked my dear friend “Anneh” if she could help me out and she did. My Brother Mike has a friend who helped him out and he did. Joe is an Uncle to a friend who helped him out and she did. I was and still in awe of these wonderful People who helped us out on their own time and pretty much got coffee, breadsticks, snacks and I must admit some damn good hugs.

By name I lost that list but your big beautifull hearts will never leave my soul.

What I want to emphasize is that we need each other; not for just a cup o coffee but for really humanity and compassion. I’m hurting right now and nothing and no one can help me although many and plenty of hugs will.

No details but a person I let into my family circle has made it her mission to destroy our contentedness.

Who does that?

I sincerely wish you all well and if you need hugs (or wine) I’m right here.

LOVE you all dearly.

Support or NFIC. Thank YOU!!