I get some help from friends; a lady brought me a plate of Thanksgiving supper, and another let me do laundry a few weeks back (I've been washing small stuff out in my sink all year, otherwise.) There's an Interfaith Council in town that does stuff - rides and the like, but Jesus doesn't like felons, so that's a no-go.
I wouldn't mind so much, but I'm in worse shape now than when I came home from rehab on 13 December last year - although the pain is not so acute and I can get mostly full walking motion and full weight on the foot much of the time (providing I stretch real well; the Achilles tendon and such have tightened up considerably - I've lost about an inch, have to try to get that back.) Breathing is not so good half the time, the other half it's kinda bad. [grin] I asked the lung guy if he could put in a trap door so's I could use the space freed up by the lobectomy for a stash box, but he wasn't terribly amused.
One of the things I found most hurtful in all this is that from the time I called 911 to report a blood clot to the Fire Department getting me to the ER took an hour - and I'm eight blocks from the hospital, the FD five blocks away. But no way I could have walked it with the cane, let alone add to the risk of the clot busting loose and going to lungs or elsewhere. They weren't busy that night, either - I checked. If I had had the money in my pocket I would have taken a cab. They spent twenty minutes with me in the back of the ambulance in front of my house making me answer all their questions three and more times. Every time I raised my voice in pain they started over - said I wasn't cooperating. Had they gotten me to the hospital in timely fashion the heparin might have dissolved the clot, rather than the leg sealing off. We'll never know. But this is a city of rich folks, and they purely don't like los pobres.
In all honesty I think they were waiting for me to die. Towards the end, I heard one ask the other "Is he still back there?" "Yeah." "I guess we better go, then." DVT/VTE/lung embolism kills ~300,000 per year. (So if your doc says take warfarin, change your diet, and exercise - do it. I didn't have a forewarning, albeit the bypass to the same leg in '03 should maybe have been a clue.)
Thing is, if things work out reasonably well, a lot of this - except for the COPD - is temporary, apart from risk-management via on-going drugs regimen. I know a couple of people with worse stuff that they have to deal with full time. I hate having to compare myself to someone worse off to make me feel better, tho - it's not a practice I find acceptable or likable. On the other hand, as I told my Doc, "It's my body and I want it back." She just smiled, and shook her head a little. So, what the hell. You live long enough, things start crapping out.
The rehab place was also a hospice. Was a guy there, had to have every thing done for him. They'd park him in his wheelchair in the TV alcove by one of the nursing stations for the day. Every so often, he'd just enough control to push the wheels and he'd sort of aim himself down a hallway, saying "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go." until he ran into to something, then he'd start bawling or mewling. They'd fetch him back, soothe him down. Infrequently an aide would have some spare time to wheel him around the halls. He died while I was there.
The thought of ending up like that gave me the chills, ya know? To end up, trapped, with who knows what mind left - no, no way, man. I believe that everyone should have the simple right to decide for themselves about the whole quality of life thing - and be able to check out as and when they please, or have that stipulated in a living will if that control is not directly available to them (with confirmation, if that's possible, of course). My own druthers would be to pick a time, invite my friends, have a party, and say goodbye during the festivities. It'd be one helluva wake.
Thanks for your kind wishes; much appreciated.
One thing I think I've learned, long ago, is that even tho it might not be readily visible, most folks got stuff they got to deal with, one way or the other.