Chapter Nineteen: Off to the Evangelists

I had two weeks in the hotel before going to the home of my evangelical relatives. I started to practice using my crutches while keeping my weight off my broken hip. Taking a shower was a challenge. I learned how scarred of falling in the tub a crippled old person must feel when bathing. If I fell I'd probably be there a long time before anyone found me. I couldn't have gotten up without assistance. As my prescription pain killers started to run out I started to smoke pot, some stuff that a friend had dropped off to me, as a replacement. I had stopped smoking when I turned 40, but found the weed to be just as effective than the prescription meds. I'd use small doses of the cannabis throughout the rest of my recovery, mainly at night to help me get to sleep, limiting my consumption to very small quantities to make it last. The stuff has some muscle relaxing qualities that made it very useful. Two thumbs up as far as I'm concerned.
Finally it was time for the next stage of my recovery. My parents picked me up from the hotel and off to the evangelists I went. I hadn't really spent any time with them in about 20 years. I had always refered to my aunt and uncle as "nina" and "nino". I think it's a variation of the spanish word for godparents-"padrinos". They were living in a partially payed off, two bedroom house with two of there adult children and four of their grandkids. It's a crowded house. One grandchild is from my same as my age cousin, and the other three are from another of their children who has an apartment of her own but works too many hours a week to take care of them. At the time they also had their mid-twenties son staying with them along with his 30's something girlfriend. My "nino" is at his retirement age, but still works in construction to support a household where his adult children are inadequately supportive. They have a real tight family group, kind of anathemic from the environment in which I was raised. I felt like a mongrel dog passing through their property, a familiar feeling for me. Going out to their place I had no idea how long I'd stay. It didn't take me long to figure that one out.

There were warm greetings for me when I arrived. I was glad to have a place to go where I could work my way back to being able to use my reconstructed hip again. Their offer for shelter was indefinite, but I decided right off that I would leave as soon as I could. I'd be taking over the bed of my youngest cousin in a room that he shared with his older brother. He'd move into his grandparents room to sleep on the floor. I would've taken a floor spot but was far from able to pick myself up off the ground. I remember staring at the ceiling that night thinking to myself that my presence was only a disruption to their everyday existence. I felt bad about my five year old cousin having to sleep on the floor. I could tell his brother felt awkward with the whole arrangement. I decided that as soon as I was able I would take to the streets. I had survived an accident that would have proved fatal or disabling to most. I could survive continuing my recovery homeless and alone.

Next up: Life with the Evangelists