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... I managed to salvage the tail end of the summer of '70. Whenever my parents, family, or friends didn't drop by the VA to see me, I was where most of the guys hung out on the weekend. The fraternization and goofing off tended to have a therapeutic effect of sorts: probably why none of the staff cared about the alcohol consumption unless patients tried to bring their party favors into the hospital itself, which they often did. ...
... I wasn't sold on the idea of going to Guadalajara, but at times it seemed like an intriguing idea. My goal now was to learn how to drive and transfer independently from wheelchair to car and back. It had been difficult, but seeing some of my fellow quads driving and getting in and out of their vehicles on their own encouraged me. ...
... Within weeks we were on our way to Casa de Vida Nueva in Guadalajara, Mexico. All I knew was that the guy who ran the place spoke English and we'd each have an English-speaking attendant for a measly $50 per month. While Big Earl was less than enthusiastic, I knew I had made the right decision. ... |
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