Douglas E. Berry

This is why I'm not posting; I'm sick as hell, Kirsten is still dealing with chemotherapy issues, and I'm overwhelmed. I have a few drafts in progress.

I'm just home from the annual Crossing Guard End-of-Year BBQ, and OMG, our new Sergeant provided a taco bar. Las opciones de carne eran pollo, bistec y cerdo. We had salsa fresca, salsas picantes, cilantro, sour cream, and flour tortillas straight off the grill.

I will not need to eat again for a while. So freaking good. The only complaint was the sodas were all cherry. At least there was water. It was also good to reconnect with my friends, who offered support for me and Kirsten in this trying time. I also got to catch up with some of the people I've trained, and I'm happy to see they are thriving in the job.

We got a lovely speech from the Chief, and the new City Manager showed up to thank us, which was nice. A couple of service awards were handed out. I'll get my five-year pin in August at the back-to-school meeting. But for the most part, it was us eating, chatting, and watching with amusement as some small kids chased the geese. Some geese even came to visit our party!

The only thing that needed to be added was the cerveza. The Chief laughed when I suggested this and said we'd do it next year with four motor units outside Central Park's carpark. He knows us so well. We learned that we have at least two new motor officers, and they will be working the schools heavily for the first two weeks of school. Huzzah!

I ultimately failed to take pictures.

After the party broke up, I walked over to the library. I found two decent history books, one about the reigns of the first three Edwards in England, and the other a history of Empress Theodora, who deserves a Netflix series as she is far more interesting (as well as intelligent and powerful) than Cleopatra VII ever was.

Then I had two mundane tasks. Kirsten and I had prescriptions ready, mine at Rite Aid, hers at Costco. I picked them up and headed home, where I am nursing an oddly sore ankle.

Back in November, I managed to get a Grade II ankle sprain which caused me to miss a ton of work. That healed, but on New Year's Eve, I had a nasty fall while clearing out our old storage unit. Long story short, I suffered a fractured elbow (no surgery needed, thankfully) and trauma-induced bursitis over the greater trochanter. Yes, football fans, I have a hip pointer.

I just have to let things heal, and I'm on Vicodin for pain management. But I'm missing another month of work and bills rejected by my pitiful insurance carrier are starting to show up. Right now, I can't get out of bed without help. It is slowly improving, but that doesn't help in the short term.

To that end, we're running a GoFundMe campaign. Anything helps, really, anything at all. What might be the best thing all y'all could do is share this campaign. Many hands make the burden lighter.

Thank you for anything you can do to help us out. All donations will be used for medical expenses only, you aren't paying for our Burning Man supplies.

More Medical Problems

My name is Douglas Edward Berry. Not at all exotic. In the Army, I got used to just being known by my last name, as my first name was my rank, "PFC Berry" was how people knew me.

Most people call me Doug, which I'm fine with. There is one variation of my name that one person on the planet is allowed to use. I've had various nicknames, user names, and of course Uncle Bullhorn, my name at Burning Man.

But Douglas E. Bery is what I go by. It's how I sign my name, it's the name I use when I publish things. It is a simple, uncomplicated name with a great family history.

So the the fuck are medical offices utterly incapable of getting my name right? I just got a call confirming an appointment for tomorrow. They asked for Edward. I have never gone by my middle name. I did contemplate it as a nom de plume for a while, something like Edward Karasu (the surname is Turkish for dark water, which is what Douglas means in Scottish Gaelic.)

The usual thing is reversing my name, and asking for Mr. Douglas. That has happened so many times over the past three decades I have to wonder if they bother reading the form where I filled out my name correctly. I know it seems like a minor thing, but it's bloody annoying and potentially dangerous as these places are handling my health care!

I will admit that I let my frustrations out today when the office asked for Edward. I didn't shout, and I wasn't profane, but I did let the office person know that they need to read the name correctly.

Because I have a name.

While Fat Bear Week has come and gone (I'm still on Team Otis) I'm having my own version.

Fat Squirrel Month.

The corner where I work is great for many reasons, one being the large number of trees along the greenway and the small grove on the other side of my corner. These trees are home to a good number of squirrels, and over the past couple of years, I've learned to identify them.

When there's no one to cross, I usually sit quietly and observe. So now is the time when the squirrels are getting ready for what passes for winter here. They are stuffing their cute little faces and packing it on!

Right now, Black Bart appears to be in the lead, being a chonk of an inkblot squirrel. Right behind him is Tweaker, so named because he acts like he just smoked all the meth. Despite still racing up and down trees for no apparent reason, he is putting on some mass. Finally, we have Squirrel Judy, who sits on her branch and scolds everyone in range of her voice. She chitters at me, the crows, other squirrels, and especially at families who leave the school near the end of my shift, interrupting her Eat What The Kids Dropped time.

But there is a new contender, and he's not a squirrel I know! I've only spotted him a few times, but he had a very distinctive white streak in his fur along the line where squirrel fur goes from bark-grey to tan or orange. I've named him the Phantom for his vanishing act. He appears to be getting enough food to move up in the rankings if I spot him more often to be sure.

You tax dollars at work, and all squirrel genders are assumed.

This year was hard. After a two-year hiatus, everyone was rusty and bad at things. As kshandra said, this was the year we brought too much and forgot everything. She's not wrong. We, for example, totally failed to plan for lunch. Breakfast and dinner were covered, but I needed small things to snack on throughout the day to keep my blood sugar and energy levels up. We already have several good plans for next year.

I am both ashamed and angry at my physical failings. My low blood pressure led to constant issues with browning out when I stood. I am physically weak, and could not help out with camp duties. That will change. I'm going to see my doctor about the blood pressure issue, and I am committed to being in better shape next year so I can contribute! I'm also going to fill out volunteer forms for the departments I can do, like BMIR (the official radio station,) Box Office, or Earth Guardians.

I want to be better. I want to carry my share of the load. Everyone who knows me understands that I am determined to do my part.

But many thanks to my campmates who helped me through this hard week. Even to the point of walking me to the porta-potty bank (hereafter referred to as the "jots") and making sure I was OK. They also fed me. So, onto the breakdown!

( Friday, August 26th )

( Saturday, August 27th )

( Sunday, August 28th )

( Monday, August 29th )

( Tuesday, August 30th )

( Wednesday, August 31st )

( Thursday, September 1st )

( Friday, September 2nd )

( Saturday, September 3rd )

( Sunday, September 4th )

( Monday, September 5th - Tuesday, September 6th )

Well, that's it. I took very few pictures, as this was an amazingly hard year.

See y'all next year in the dust!

Tramp Cripwire has been repaired and is ready for pick-up!

[APPLAUSE]

We're going over Monday. There will be pictures! The next step is getting the wheels aligned, and we have a place in mind for that. This has been THE hurdle, mentally, emotionally, and financially, that we have been needing to get past.

Now, I can look at prep without wondering where I'm going to sleep, and start planning out loads. This weekend we're hitting BevMo for the liquid portions of our camp dues. We just need to keep going over what needs to go in That Box, needs to go in the Kitchen or Shade boxes, or needs to be stored in the trailer's cubbies or just loose in the truck bed for easier access.

WELCOME BACK FROM THE DEAD, TRAMPY!!!

Well, that was a slog. I had a follow-up today with one of Dr. M's associates because the man is insanely busy. Now I expect eye appointments to take a while, but this was epic.

I was there to see if the damn inflammation had gone away (spoiler: no, it hasn't.) But an additional test had been ordered that involved a dye infusion. Normally, when I'm warned ahead of time that someone is going to try to access one of my tiny little veins, I take preparatory steps to help them. I'll drain a 32oz bottle of water on the way to the appointment, I'll wear a hoodie to keep my arms warm, and I'll do exercises while waiting. That sort of thing.

But no warning, so after three stabs, no good vein. So they punted. I'm back on the Prednisolone Acetate drops again, and see Dr. M in August. Tomorrow, I have to go get a blood draw and pick up some meds.

One of the tests is a second check to see if I have Birdshot Chorioretinopathy, which would suck mightily.

kshandra and I were doing a little clearing out of stuff in the kitchen and came across a Box of MYSTERY on a hard-to-reach shelf. Being the Designated Tall Person, I got it down. It was filled with survival food from Patriot Pantry. Which is the best crazy prepper site ever.

We went through them and decided that we could use most of them for Burning Man. A couple are going up on the local Buy Nothing group. This simplifies the food planning aspect for both our dinners as well as for the camp Thanksgiving. The others? Well, I bought that travel pack of hot sauce for a reason.

We will still be doing some stuff on the food saver and freezing it because it's always good to have options. One thing we will bring is a can of beanless chili to add to the Mac and Cheese because chili mac is good Army food. Campmates are welcome to join us for that culinary delight.

So as of right now, we are pretty well-sorted for the food plan. We have breakfast stuff, dinner stuff, and even a few desserts. Lunch will be leftovers, if we eat lunch, because who wants to eat midday at Burning Man?

Now we're just waiting to hear about our camp dues and the resolution of the trailer mess.

This is really hard. I've struggled with it for weeks. But I've finally made my decision.

I need to get back into therapy, and this time, commit to it. Y'see I build walls faster than Pink Floyd. I have shut away so much so I can keep pretending that everything is fine. I can't do that anymore. As terrifying as it is, I need to find a therapist and find the courage somewhere to be honest. Because I want to write a novel. I want to not be scared of even trying anymore. I want to learn what having a friend means.

If that last one shocks you, know that I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder a few years back. I honestly don't understand friendship. I have trouble with social norms. I either take too much or retreat completely. At this point, I really don't think I have any friends, just people I know. I am so fucking lonely. Because I have no clue how all you zombies do all this!

But yeah, the novel. I want to write. People tell me my writing is good, but my depression tells me everything is shit. I had a depressive episode last year where I did the digital equivalent of throwing my papers in the fire. I deleted everything in a rage because I was sick of looking at it and being too cowardly to take the simple steps of submitting it to someone! I owe people articles, but I don't write them because my brain tells me that I can do it.

I'm tired. So goddamn tired.

So it's time to check my benefits and look into getting help. And in doing that, doing the hardest thing I've ever done.

Confront who I really am, with no walls, no defenses, no diversions. I'm scared shitless of what I'm going to find. But I have to do it because I simply can't go on this way.