BBQ'd Jack

NB: There are photos at the end of the text narrative: reader discretion is advised...

12 years ago I was grievously burned in a housefire. I went into the house (not mine) looking for my 4-1/2 year old son. It seemed there was no one home but by a long and pretty sad story (omitted) it was possible that he was there alone. It was a 160 yr. old wood frame farmhouse and I would have never believed a house could go up so quickly. Another long story left out, I got trapped in the house and was grievously burned. My parents were alive at the time; the surgeons told them they didn't know if I would survive. 11 months in Canada's premier burn unit in Sunnybrook Hospital--the doctors there told me had I been in lesser facilities in the world, "You would have died." Another 10 months at St. John's Rehab Hospital.

I didn't get any money from insurance because everyone knows that a burning house is dangerous, and in choosing to go in I assumed all responsibility for my actions: most would agree it's not fair, but I couldn't find a lawyer to even touch it (insurance companies don't pay out because they feel bad for you).

I now require 3 PSW visits daily to keep me going: I can't dress/undress myself, bathe/shower myself, can't get on/off a toilet myself, diapers are required because I had a catheter in for so long my bladder never learned to close up tight again, can't wipe my own butt and if I can't hold it until my next PSW visit then I have to crap myself and stay that way until someone changes me. PSWs get me up and dressed and into my electric wheelchair in the morning and that is where I stay until my afternoon diaper change--guess how humiliating that is--and then back into my wheelchair until bedtime, when I am put to bed and there I remain until someone gets me up.

One bright side, given the realities, is that once I am in my wheelchair I can go anywhere: I only require a little wrist action to manipulate my wheelchair and I go out everyday.

Unfortunately, I live on a govt. stipend: I am grateful for what I get but still, it isn't much.

So I panhandle every day for extra money--which is probably how the reader found this page. It's cheesy, but I do what I have to do to get by...

These photos were taken 5 years ago--imagine what I looked like 12 years ago! I was literally burned black in places--80% 3rd and 4th degree burns. The grafts and scars don't look as bad today because as time goes by they fade lighter and lighter. I have recovered further than anyone believed that I would and by this time it is pretty much, 'What you see is what I get'.

So after all that, actually I am doing well: I mean, my mental/emotional health is pretty good now--I did my crying for a couple years but life goes on: I'm just poor.

Donations well appreciated, I assure you... .

NB: Photos follow...