No Compromise

Night Terrors

It was hard enough coming back from not one but 2 wars and trying to fit back in. But now I have a wheelchair to adapt to and a crippled left hand as well as the loss of my sight. To contend with.

I lay here in my bed, afraid of going to sleep, because I know what my dreams will be of. I only dream of one of two things, war and being beaten in front of the courthouse in Portland Oregon. when I wake I am gasping for air and no one is around to help. This night was no different.

My security cams showed that I had a seizure which knocked me out of my chair. I think I was going to the kitchen when it happened. "God help me," as I woke up on the floor in my bathrobe. The floor was cold and I just looked up at the ceiling thinking maybe it is time to get one of those panic buttons that we see on TV.

Once the panic was over and I started to regain my composure, I began to assess my situation. I looked around for any blood on the ground. I found nothing. Everything on my wheel chair was in working order and other than being disoriented from my seizure, I was doing fine. I asked Alexa to turn on the kitchen lights.

I knew that if I could right my chair and get back into it, I could get to my phone and call one of my friends. "I could just drag myself in on the floor but I still have wounds healing from the last time," I thought to myself. "No the chair is my only option."

I rocked the chair sideways, until it was ready to set right I let go and the chair did what it was designed to do {stay up right once it is on its wheels.}. Having one handicap is hard enough in this unforgiving world much less having 3. Still I had to correct this situation.

I felt around for the breaks on the chair and applied them, then I worked my way into the seat and rolled back into my bedroom where I found my phone and I sent a group text to the Horsemen. "Hey this is Tolie, by the time you read this I will be admitted into Legacy. I had a rough night and needed to be checked out. Do the show without me."

I sent out a 911 and when the Operator answered I was able to say one word, "Ambulance," before I passed out. In hindsight I may have hit my head when I fell out of my chair.

Seven hours later I woke up, surrounded by all of my friends and I had a splitting headache. "Wake up when you are ready, Captain, you took quite a fall." Dema said with his hand on my chest

About then the doctor came in."Your friend was very lucky. He has suffered several TBIs in the past and this one should have killed him. It is best that he not be living alone." Once again I was living amongst friends and grateful to have them.

The house was nicknamed "the Dorms," because we all met in college. The difference being we formed a re-estate trust and bought the property outright. Caleb passed away a month ago and left us the building and the coffee shop.

Now I am the patriarch of the group and my friends are sincerely trying to keep me safe. My first night back in our dorms, I guess I had a PTSD event and and I am not talking about being Pretty Tired of Stupid Democrats. Although just by judging from the landslide victory that Trump had against Scamala Harris, I would say everyone has at least that form of PTSD. But no I disassociated and rolled out into the street

I my mind I was hearing the tearing of metal and feeling the force of expressions. The gun fire and the yelling for others to get down just filled my head. Oh by the way I am talking about the events of the George Floyd Riots in Portland Oregon. While yes Iraq and Afghanistan could have been described in that same manner, it was the events of 2020 that robbed me of the use of my sight, my left hand and my ability to walk. So I go back there anytime a car backfires or people start arguing in the street.

Carol noticed that I was lost in my own fear and went out into the street at 0300 to retrieve me. "Everything is going to be fine boss. You are safe. You are with family," she said in a soft voice.

Dema has the bedroom behind the coffee shop and across the hall from mine. So when he hear the bell on the door of the shop ring he knew something was wrong."Hey buddy Carol is right you are safe. Now let's get you back to bed."

Carol and Dema helped me into bed. "Thank you Carol." Dema said as they both walked out on my room and closed the door.

"It is amazing." Carol whispered.

"What is amazing?"

"That man can take over the courtroom without hesitation. But kids arguing in the street can put this incredible warrior into a fetal position." Trama takes many forms. But if I was to succeed as both a podcaster and a lawyer I could not give into my fears.