My Illusions
by James L. Verhovec
A
gentle, low-volume tone quietly disturbs my sleeping eardrums. Those
sounds coming from my cell phone are soft, jazz-ensemble tones. Not
too bold. Simple and calm. And, preset at the lowest volume level
possible on my LG phone. Yes, that is what I use for my alarm. It is
all that I need.
My
mind awakens and I am fully alert. I'm pleased that this very low and
quiet sound will awaken me from my slumber. It worked again at
ten-minutes after five o'clock this morning. I don't need to get up
yet, so I sleep for a while more.
Many
years ago, I used those same quiet tones as my “get-up-for-work”
alarm. I had continued to work even after I was unable to do the jobs
assigned to me. When I wasn't able to perform my working tasks at
Honeywell Avionics in the late 1990's, trying to use my intricate and
complex US Air Force acquired soldering skills, Honeywell had me
evaluated for my abilities.
My
resume was superb, but my body and my brain had been injured and
severely damaged. My skills and knowledge were lessened, too.
Honeywell hired my resume.
I
was physically unable to perform according to the avionics standards
prescribed by the industry's quality evaluation officials. I can no
longer live up to my resume.
Now,
I am disabled because I cannot work proficiently as an engineering
technician, nor do I have the mental capabilities to be an engineer
in my industry sector. But, I had a great resume.
I
worked at Honeywell Avionics in Strongsville, Ohio for just over one
year. All the people I got to work with were very skilled and
talented at what they did. And, my resume showed that I should be as
good as most of the other workers in our avionics shop.
That
resume was constructed and written before the automobile accident
happened in late January of 1983.
Me
being the passenger in that lone automobile crash changed everything
forever. It changed life for me and for everyone close to me.
I
can never be who I was before. My left forehead slammed into the
windshield, paralyzing my right side. Then, I was ejected from his Ford Pinto just after Tim smashed into the embankment on the dark and lonely rural
road, near the city park in Dover.
After
being thrown, I blasted the back of my skull on a wooden fence post.
By that time, I believe I was already comatose and paralyzed on my
right side. I was right-handed. I am still right-handed, and it is
tough.
Since
it was late January when this happened, in the middle of winter, the
temperature outside was still chilly. There may have been snow
and ice on the road. I don't know. But, the driver was only nineteen
years old. I was still a twenty-four year-old college freshman at
Kent State University, fresh out of the US Air Force, and quite
skilled at my job.
My
very first but vague memories were awakening in a hospital bed
and being pushed from one infirmary room to another. There is no way
I could know where I was, nor how I got there. My mind was mostly
blank – empty and void; as if I had amnesia. I thought I was still
enlisted. Everyone had their hospital garb on. To me, it looked to be
their military uniforms. And, I believed I had married Karen.
Jill
left her picture next to my bed. I saw it and I believed she was
Karen. They are each lovely and both have dark, flowing hair with
blue-green eyes. Yet, I did not remember Jill.
My
coma had lasted for over six-weeks. I slept through an episode of
needing a heat-controlled mattress when my body temperature would not
regulate itself, causing my overall warmth to vary.
I
slept though other times when a doctor had ordered a sling for my wrong arm since both of my collar-bones were damaged. I slept through
his suicide that happened for different reasons.
It
is all so shadowy now. I remember bits and pieces of my life before
and after the incident. All the years have made me, even forced me to
create and to recreate my past life. Now, I can never be sure what is
real, and what are my illusions.
