Cappy's Corner

MY STORY 80's TO 90's

Now 25 years old and living what I thought was a dream life, this decade goes from wonderful to tragic in such a short time and back again.
Taking numerous trips to the Bahamas, life was like a dream, taking more scuba classes and the kids couldn't stay out of the water. At a very young age the kids were drenched in the island life. Still enjoying my life at home in the country with all my animals, even though I was still living in a trailer it didn't much seem to bother any of us. I worked hard and things were good. Then one day while home alone, I suffered a HORROR that only a few could recover from.
That was just the beginning, the time came when that uneasy feeling about the motorcycle became my nightmare. Driving down a country road only going 35 mph, not a soul on the road. We approached an intersection, where we saw a car stopped, I don't know how it happened but in a split second I was laying on the ground with paramedics cutting my clothing off of me. I only remember small clips of the accident. I remember the impact, then flying through the air toward the windshield, where I saw two small children sitting in the front seat, just before my face hit and broke the windshield. I don't remember the ride to the hospital, I was only aware briefly when I saw a drill going through my leg under my knee. I remember hearing voices and they were saying that I didn't have much of a chance, and if I did live, I probably wouldn't be able to walk normally again. I am not certain to this day on how many bones I broke, but some that were broken was my femur in two places, my ribs, my pelvis in two place, I got hairline fractures of my vertebrae in my neck and of course my head. Which explains quite a bit, doesn't it?
I didn't really feel any pain, but I imagine it was the worst time of my children's life. They were so young and being tossed from family member to family member. I don't know to this day how long I was in the hospital, I never figured it out. I woke once more in the first hospital I was staying at and recall being all alone in an upright position. I couldn't talk, because there was a tube down my throat. I was alert enough at that point to pull the tubes from my stomach and nose and all the IVs out of my arms. Then I don't remember anything again until I was being transferred to another hospital, my mother telling me that an orderly was taking advantage of me, so my husband and I were transferred to another hospital. I remember laying motionless on a bed my husband in the bed on the right of me. The nurses coming in every 4 hours hanging whole blood and giving me injections of morphine every couple of hours. I don't wonder why that part of my stay was such a blur. I was high as a kite and fully addicted to drugs at that point.
My leg had been in traction and now the surgeons were going to put my leg together with a rod. After the surgery the staff came in and put this giant concrete cast on my leg. I know that I let them know of my disapproval, but they didn't listen. After they left I don't know how, but I got out of the bed, screaming in agony and washed the cast off in the shower. They finally fitted me with a fiberglass cast, that came on and off. I survived the internal injuries on sheer stubbornness, with the help of a ton of blood they gave me. I couldn't do anything for what seemed to be months. Just sitting in a chair was agony. There was no physical therapy or any rehabilitation. They finally began reducing the medication and I began to have a conscious life at the hospital. I was really ready to get out and start my life again. I felt like I had missed so much. I felt cheated and I lost all faith in any kind of God. This should have been the best years of my life, the perfect years, but now they are gone. I am crippled and a burden to my family, I can't even bathe myself.
Finally released from the hospital, I was at my parents house, where my mother gave me therapy and took care of me. I don't remember where my kids were or if I had seen them. I don't remember getting visitors, at home or at the hospital. I felt good enough to go back to my home in the country and resume my life, except that things would be very different. I would sometimes go blind in the middle of driving down the road. I even tried to overdose on pain pills and the only thing that got me, was a trip to the shrink.
I knew at this point that I had to do something to get my mind right. So, I told my shrink that I would be in charge of my own therapy. I remembered how I felt when I was in the Bahamas before the accident. As soon as possible I booked a flight to Bimini. I arrived there all alone, and booked dive trips and met men that made me feel good. I was still on crutches, but managed to do everything I wanted to do. My husband would call my hotel and I kept telling him I needed a couple more days, I took a weekend away and ended up gone for a month. Because of the uneasy feeling I had about the motorcycle in the first place I told my husband that if he ever got me in an accident on the motorcycle I would divorce him. After a mere four years of marriage that is exactly what I did. Not that I was the perfect wife to either husband, I was always finding other men to make me feel good. I didn't get caught, but I think I wanted to. I did everything I could to make myself feel wanted or needed, even if it was for just the night. Since my first husband I always had my back-up man that always made me feel good, even though he had a girl friend, we would still continue this affair for years to come, I think this was the only man that was truly my friend. My life long friend.
It seems that things would improve at this point but that isn't exactly what happened. I had money from the sale of husband #1 house and husband # 2 house, plus the insurance settlement from the accident. I bought my own house in West Homestead. Sounds like a fresh start doesn't it! After spending my windfall on cars and furniture and just junk. I never really got over the need for pain killers either and by this time I was a full fledged cocaine addict. It didn't make my life better or mask the horrible feeling I had. I was still unable to walk without crutches, and I was fighting the feeling of not being able to function normally.
Things went from bad to worse, as time passed, even though I was in my own new home, walking without crutches.The drugs were starting to run my life. My life long friend would come over from time to time while the kids were at school, he worried about me. One time he brought over a friend of his and he came over while I was in the SHOWER, that is where we began our relationship. He was a good looking guy. We seemed to be a perfect fit for each other. I was dating about 18 guys at that time and made a effort to make him my exclusive boyfriend.
On the weekends the kids were at their fathers house, giving me the opportunity to have a little adult fun. Me and my new boyfriend would go to Naples, the Keys and travel to fun places. We took off once to the Cayman Islands for some fun in the sun. We found beaches without a soul in sight, we could take off our clothes and be one with the sea. I even made a live starfish bathing suit.
I took another trip with the kids to Spanish Wells, Bahamas and re-established my old friendships, which included my dolphin friend, who was named after me, "MC". Each time I visited a particular reef, she would be there, even if I was inside the local cave, she would make clicks and squeaks, I would look up and see her looking through the entrance of the cave wanting me to go play with her. My dolphin and me were about the same size, it was a very strange relationship, but awesome, maybe she was a relative from a past life. Visiting year after year she was always there and would find me. If I was anywhere near the water I was happy. If I went anywhere it had to have water.
My funds pretty much depleted, my drug use down to a minimum, only because I was happy after being in the island that I loved. I had to begin working and work I did, I had 2 to 3 jobs at a time. I was not spending time with my children. I tried to work mid-nights so that I could spend time with kids and boyfriend. I was becoming unhappy again.
It was time for me to go back to surgery to get the steel rod taken out of my leg. I was scheduled for surgery the next day, when I got a phone call from Spanish Wells, Bahamas. The dive operation over in the islands asked if I would like to go to work there. I couldn't possibly say no, because I never pass up an opportunity. Especially since this was my dream, to live in another country, the Bahamas! I went in for surgery and in recovery the doctor indicated he wanted me to stay over night, I jumped up off the bed and said that I wasn't staying. I jumped on a plane and was working the very next day as a dive guide in the Bahamas.
My kids were at their Dad's house and my boyfriend I left behind taking care of my house. My life was just perfect. I did have one little accident, when I fell out of the truck carrying the scuba tanks back to the shop. I was riding in the back of the truck, holding the tanks so they wouldn't slip out, a bump in the road and a couple of tanks knocked me off my feet and I fell out of the truck onto the road, splitting my stitched wide open. I just sat in the middle of the road bleeding. Now what, no doctors on the island. My friends manged to find a medic and he did a great job putting me back together. I was back in the water the next day.
I had my own little apartment, and worked hard, I dove everyday and even had a boyfriend that lived on a sailboat there. Things were great until I got a phone call from my boyfriend at home, he was going to leave me if I didn't come and get him. I flew home on my day off and we both jumped back on a plane to the island. I didn't realize that they could not stand him, and I was fired after a couple of weeks. It was hard anyway balancing the two boyfriends on a tiny island. I missed the island and regretted my decision to bring him over, even more when I found out he had another girl friend. Like I had a right to say anything.
My life on the island was so wonderful, I swam, I dove, the gang camped on different deserted islands around the area, we sunk an airplane and made an artificial reef. I got to play with my dolphin, MC. The life I dreamed about and still dream about now, was over.
My relationship was different after that, I became very depressed, I began taking the drugs again, it became so bad that I had another accident on my bicycle, that shattered my elbow and I had to have surgery again. At this point it was time to permanently give my children up, it wasn't fair to them to watch my destruction.
 My boyfriend brought my good friend over for an intervention. I think I realized what I was doing, but I had to get away from everything I had known to clean myself up. The bills were getting behind and I was so close to foreclosure. I sold everything I had, with the last couple of thousand dollars in the bank, I bought a sailboat and headed away from all the drug connections in Miami and Homestead. I didn't know anyone but my boyfriend and my animals.
Living on a  27 foot sailboat, in the Florida Keys, with 2 dogs, 2 parrots and 2 cats was a challenge to say the least. It was the closest thing to the life that I had enjoyed in the Bahamas. I was so secluded on the boat that getting clean and sober was much easier than staying where I was. Living off the land didn't seem so hard, I got a job working at a little road side restaurant at the Jewfish Creek Bridge. It was enough money to buy the little things that I needed. The kids would come down on the weekends and we would sail, they had a great time. It was like a vacation for them.
My boyfriend would go away from time to time to visit his family and my kids would come for the summer. We would fish for dinner and enjoy everyday together.
I began to re-establish my life. I saved what little money I made to take scuba classes to become an instructor and get out of the kitchen at the road-side diner. Living on the sailboat was rough on my pets, first my little parrot was swept away in a storm, then my dwarf Macaw was killed by an osprey, had to give one of my dogs away because he grew to over 80 pounds. One of my cats simply didn't like sailing and ran away, the other stuck it out for awhile but eventually moved out. The final animal was my precious Charm, a springer spaniel that had been with me for awhile. She loved the water and was always jumping off during sailing excursions, we always went back for her. One day she went for a swim and never came back, we later found her body in the den of a crocodile.
I finally got my scuba instructor certification and began the hunt for a new job. Also moving the boat from its current location, closer to my job. I was at a little marina on the bay. I enjoyed my new occupation and the money was pretty good. Life on the boat was just great, like being on vacation all the time, until I began working so much I had no more time to sail. My boyfriend couldn't seem to keep a job and it put a lot of pressure on me to make more money. He spent his days just having fun and cheating on me. I even had to buy him marijuana to keep him happy. Something had to give. I really didn't care so much that he was cheating unless it interfered with our time together. I wasn't exactly the best of girlfriends, I had an affair or two myself. It was just the kind of relationship we had.
I really got sick of it when a girls father came by the boat to find him and told me his daughter was pregnant. I picked up anchor and threw all his stuff off the boat and put it in the dingy. I sailed away to a new location that I thought he couldn't find me. He was with a new girl now and I was doing my thing. He never stopped looking for me though, but I didn't know that. I continued working and having fun without him, never stopping to look back.

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