Things Now.

Another thing, no one is helping at all with my feet really. Doctors have diagnosed it and given me some suggestions. And a man came by earlier this year to teach me exercises to help the progress of neuropathy. But really no one is helping me now. I am choosing the socks that I wear, I have to choose the shoes I wear since the shoes a medical supplies in Royal Oak made don't fit at all and make my feet numb. I am not being given any therapies, my condition doesn't seem like it's being watched closely, just occasional doctors' appointments as usual. And plus my neurologist tells me I don't even have neuropathy, even though I obviously do. It might be getting worse even. And I have it in my hands. I don't think he ever even told me that. You know right now I could be getting therapy and treatment for it. Maybe some cutting edge therapies. Which like my car, I think the people who got me to this point should always pay for. And I think most people would agree with that. But Wayne County Probate Court still claims that my case doesn't exist. Their last postal letter, which they made sure to send me again a couple of weeks ago, was as defiant as ever. And I think it couldn't be more obvious my case does exist. Like I've said, they seem to be saying I should just play along. Even though I've made it clear to them and Eric that I refuse to. And now my urologist deliberately hints something may be going on with my kidneys. Yet no one cares, nothing is being done. Eric claims that my words have the power to destroy my life, to make him abandon and leave me for good. But like I told him and his brother Tom, that obviously isn't true. When I tell people all the things I just said, tell them how serious and urgent things have become, it has no affect. No, Eric and Tom my words don't have the affect to destroy my life. They have no power at all clearly. And some of my neighbors, including the guy next door who people have hinted is there to help me for some reason, seem unconcerned and unworried by this all. Something needs to be done quickly. Not just for my sake but for others here in Detroit and the US. This sets a very troubling precedent that anyone could be treated this way. Not just mentally ill and handicapped (who BTW Detroit and Dearborn police are people too, in case you didn't know that) but old people, poor people, people with minor issues. People that their relatives maybe even with good intentions try to help by setting up a secret guardianship, and taking away their rights. Selling their house under them and taking away their cars. And then cleverly telling them it's because of an old law dating back to 1770, so they'll never know. Because everyone else is playing along too, even their cleaning lady and gardener. And like I said, how would they like it if that happened to them? This world is full of irony like that, what I just said. Some call it karma, but I just call it coincidence and irony. And I am beginning to see the problem may be Detroit. That people think that people like me, especially people marginalized like me by the economic or social class, who live in Detroit have less status and less rights. No we don't. We have the right to the same thing all Americans have. Which like I've explained, included two cell phones, two cars and two bathrooms. Which is defined as the acceptable living conditions in the US. Sadly it might not be in some places like South America and Russia. But it is here, accept it. And stop saying insulting things like "you'll manage" or "why don't you just take the bus?" How would you like it if someone said that you? How would you like it if your life was lived around tracking thru the snow and cold, getting your neuropathic and diabetic feet wet and frostbitten, on the way to a smelly, dirty, crime-ridden Detroit bus? Try it if don't know what I mean. Maybe the problem is you never have. Do unto others. That is what the golden rule really means. Or expose yourself to feel what wretches feel, like Shakespeare once said.

Anyways, something has to be done now. I need a washing machine now, and Eric was supposed to replace it long ago. My situation is already getting desperate. My car is getting old and my foot already has slow-healing wounds on it. Things like that have to be dealt with before they lead to urgent situations. Now is the time, like I keep saying. And I am seeing the foot doctor Friday. And I will ask him what socks and shoes he at least recommends. Because like I said, I have been pretty much handling things like that on my own now. Treating my condition and buying the best items and aids for it. It just seems to me people should be giving me more help by now.