The big project: 7 years ago, I started to write, " Never give up! From mountaineer to stroke survivor. " Already, I was faced with significant injustices because I'm disabled, but I wanted to change my situation for the best! I wrote, this book, 55 000 words, with only one finger typing. Because I'm not able to read a whole lot, I used a text to speech software. To speed up my typing, I used prediction software. Recently, I found the app Grammarly to fix the issues with my writing. Good thing I have a book because I would behold as crazy!

The cause: I'm not suing Alberta Health Services but blame them for the poor treatment I received recently at the Hospital. For all of us disabled, I'm fighting for respect and better conditions. It does not matter if the disability is cognitive or physical, we are all in the same boat, and it is about time they take us seriously. I hope my initiative will make the whole world realize that we live far from an equal world! During my 13 years of disabled, I have at least 20 incidents related to significant injustice.

book censure copy.mp3Remy Bernier
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Epilogue (05-15-19)

I thought that I was a nut case! Thank you, Alison, for the chat last night. You literally saved me. It was the first serious talk I’ve had in 12 years.

After Alison left, I started to analyze my situation, and it came to me: This is exactly what happened to me right from day one at high school. I was severely bullied in my school days. My nickname at high school was "Booger.” All my life, I was worried about what people thought of me. I was haunted for 35 years, and I had no clue as to why.

I thought I did not need to sleep! After 90 hours I finally crashed. The only difference is that I had my eye open for four days. Before that new peak, I was going to bed every night but couldn't sleep. I sent an email to about 75 people asking for help and only eight responded. I was expecting way more replies.

Conclusion: People don't care about other people! I am now determined to bite at life more ferociously than ever.

I have precisely the same goals. I have had way too much bad luck happening to me in the last 12 years. Events like my stroke, getting hit three times (by two trucks and car), three evictions, getting arrested by the cops. Moreover, all my movies being rejected at festivals, the Arcteryx Grant and my love is gone, perhaps forever. Then there are the problems with my foot, my lousy reaction to pills, missing the funeral of one of my best friends, and having $250 worth of socks stolen because the carrier left the package at my front door. I’ve been through 12 bed bug infestations in 15 months, I’ve peed myself in public at 35 years old and my apartment has been flooded by sewer (waterfall flowing from my counter, one inch of water in my kitchen).

I have a feeling that I have yet to expect the ultimate in bad luck. I'm sure I’ve forgotten some moments, because I try not to dwell on the past. There are more, but I choose to keep those to myself because it involves other individuals. I think I will see my luck turn just because I wrote this book. It will be more critical than ever to reconnect with my caregiver.

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (06-09-19)

No fiction here, this really happened to me. I walked into emergency at the hospital by myself, long after I found the cause of my problem. As far as I knew, my problems were finally behind me.

I came to the emergency room because I had an issue sleeping, not because I was crazy. My problem with sleeping has been present since I had my stroke. The right side of my body sweated like crazy from 8 pm to 1 am. The other side is healthy. If I go to bed with a blanket, my right side sweats even more. At first, I start out sleeping over my covers, but then my left side starts to freeze so I go under my blanket, causing me to sweat even more. By 1 am, I'm freezing, and my bed is a swimming pool. I’m so uncomfortable that it's impossible to sleep. So, I went in asking for help in that department, but the people in emergency completely misinterpreted my issues.

I was locked down for 18 days.

Day 1

They didn't help me sleep, so I took charge of the situation with what little I could do. I took a shower before bed and requested a freshly made bed every night. With the combination of my finding and taking sleeping pills, I was finally able to sleep. My problem was fixed, and I thought that I would be out in no time. That was not the case.

I don't care anymore about what people think. It’s all coming back from my childhood: I was different, doing a not so popular sport according to the other kids. I was a loser all my life. That was the old Remy, the new Remy doesn't care anymore. Nobody can tell me what to write. As far I know, I'm free to say what I want as long as I give a fictitious name. Maybe, the Doctors will need to find another job, I really don't care. Let's name my primary Doctor, Dr. Nuts and my last Doctor, Dr. Smart.

Basically Dr. Nuts tagged me as dangerous to others, dangerous to myself and with grandiose thinking. Sorry, but I like my life, even more so after my stroke. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone including Dr. Nuts.

As for grandiose thinking... well, I would like to remind you that I won a bronze medal at Canadian Championship in cross country skiing and climbed McKinley solo and in winter at 20 years old. I'm not like average people, so don't treat me like everyone else. If you are not smart enough to see the difference between a perfectly healthy person and a maniac, maybe he doesn't deserve to be a Doctor. And by the way, I don't consider myself to be the smartest, but everyone saw it (nurses), and I sure think I'm more intelligent than him!
Intelligence is something relative, and I don't think about it except for this epilogue. One thing I'm sure about is I worked hard to be at the same level as everyone and now that I achieve it, my reward was to be locked down.

My biggest issue during my stay was that I was stuck with my power wheelchair for 14 days. When I requested my manual wheelchair, my brain was overloaded. It actually made the problem worse to keep me locked up. My power wheelchair is so sensitive that I need to be in the zone when I ride it. If I’m not in the zone, I will crash it.

Think of it this way: for every inch a normal person moves, I need to think three steps ahead. For example, I think five steps ahead just to take a sip of tea, 25 steps to go to a regular bathroom. I think 50 steps ahead to take a shower, and 100 steps to have dinner. If you add everything, I think at least 1000 times more than an average person has to.

That said; I had to fix the issue myself… again. In the last four days, I stayed far away from my power wheelchair. I was able to wind down finally.

My needs were not met!

The only bathroom that had enough room for my wheelchair was the one in high operation with the really sick and violent people. Even that one, I was riding the toilet backward (feet along the wall and back toward the front). That was only for number two, because I was so jammed up that it was totally impossible to go number one. In that case, I would have to transfer back in my wheelchair and use my urinal. I tell you, lots to think about. After one week of the transfer, I started to have bruises on my left leg, and it was so painful.

I'm so cheap, my cushion is defective (that is why it's only good for a few hours). And being stuck in my wheelchair, I started getting bed sores.

It was time to request a new cushion. The first time, I rang the call bell four times, paged Dr. Nuts twice, and the emergency doctor once. Nobody care, none of my requests were answered.

At mealtime, I needed to use the recliner in my power wheelchair to take the pressure off my bum

To keep my bed sores under control, I laid on my bed,  four times for five hours at a time. I could not read, write or listen to the radio (except one day where I didn't have a roommate). I watched the wall all the time and did my sit ups, and Kung Fu was my only distraction. I was thinking deep stuff, and I never went crazy.

My thoughts are so powerful that there is no way to break them down in my mind.

My last request was a transfer pole for my bed but once again, it was a one-way conversation. Dr. Nuts forgot to tell me that I could get out one hour every 30 minutes. For one week, I thought that I had only one hour per day. When I figured this out, I was 6 hours a day out for the last three days. I have the last conversation with Dr. Nuts forged in my head:

Dr. Nuts: “You have a new Dr starting Monday.”
Me: “You really think I'm manic.”
Dr. Nuts: “You don't want to take a mood stabilizer pill. I really, really think you are manic!”

He left after that.  

I contacted my family doctor, to get me out of my miserable situation. That Monday he called, and I was out the next day. My last night, they gave me a new grad nurse. Not organized, I waited patiently for 30 minutes at the nursing station for my shower.

The new doctor sent me home and recommended that I stop marijuana. I said, yes, already knowing that I could do anything I wanted to no matter what he thought. I started taking CBD oil right after. I started with a dose of 2 ml for two days (no problem sleeping) and 3 ml the third day. I was not able to sleep, so I took an extra sleeping pill. The Zopiclone did not even work. I found my problem right away. The next day, I didn't take CBD, and took one sleeping pill before bed. I fell asleep in no time. I knew I wasn't manic. I was wrongly diagnosed but was treated like one. I had little sleep in a year except for the two months, when the marijuana worked.

After seeing my family doctor, he told me they were confused because they had a hard time understanding my story. They basically made up my answer and decided to lock me down. I thought that doctors were smart!

I kept it simple:

What: I want to sleep!
Why: Because of my stroke, my sweating!

They asked me a bunch of other question, and my answers are probably what ended up getting me locked down. I felt like I was trapped in a corner. I was not ready to answer all those questions, I did not think that was relevant to my problem. I was honest, maybe a little bit too much. I'm special, alright… but I'm not crazy.

The emergency doctor never asked me the crucial question: What was I doing?

He told me that they will find the reason for my issues if I go to the Psychiatric unit. I wanted to have my problem fixed, so I accepted without knowing what I was agreeing to. I really don't get it, the doctor had absolutely no facts to hold against me. Everyone basically assumed my situation. If they had asked my entourage, they would clearly have seen that I'm not violent. The only thing that I am guilty of is grandiose thinking.

I set the bar for my goals quite high, and I’ve done that my whole life. I think I'm successful in all my endeavours. I'm a dreamer like the Wright brothers. The Wright brothers had the dream to fly - they were not held back for being crazy.

If I reach my goals, great, if not, it’s sure not the end of the world. I will always work toward a new project.

Maybe, I am smarter than average? If that’s the case, I sure feel like it’s become a significant disadvantage.

I’ve always assumed something is quite evident to me when it's not. The best example is the difficult time at the hospital, as I’ve just explained. To me, it was so obvious that I was trying to sleep when they thought I was wandering. This story did not need to be such a nightmare.

Another example is when I’m waiting for the bus, and it takes off without me. Even after I made visual contact with the driver and I’m ready to jump in, and the driver is takes off. Or when I give directions to my cleaner, only to get a big surprise when he is gone.

Emails are straightforward to me, but so complicated to others. You already know about the vast, massive jump from making wallets to Yellow Edge. In two years, I went from having my best show on TV from WWF Wrestling to Expedition Unknown and Mystery at the Museum. I was a very hardcore guy, and now I listen to only instrumental/classical music.

It would seem that the only advantages of being smarter are the fact I've been going to the pool every week solo for the past five or so years, I'm able to take a shower on my own, and I live by myself.

No doubt, there is really something affecting me. I don't believe in superpowers and miracles, but as of late, something unexplainable is generating my boost of intelligence. I have two guesses as to what the possible causes are:

1. The first one, and less likely, is my perfect lifestyle. I never eat bad food, I have 8 vitamins a day, I overuse my brain when I'm in my power wheelchair, and I need to think with two brains at Kung Fu.

2. Maybe plausible, but another reason could be my lousy reaction to pills. Although this is not something new, I believe that it’s most likely the Methylphenidate I was prescribed for 12 years. It was prescribed just after slipping out of my coma, and the doctor never looked back on me. I don't take it anymore and I don't see any signs of any kind. While I was on the pill, I would browse all day, looking at girls in bikinis on Facebook. When I stopped taking that particular medication, I never went back to the page. I suppose that explains my erection problem with Gabapentin, acidity pill (peeing on myself) at the emergency, the fact that I blacked out twice on Lyrica, and not reacting to THC.

That could also explain why, in 12 years, I never went past the fifth ring on my alarm clock in and also the mileage I covered with my power wheelchair.

Not knowing which cause is responsible for my still remains a mystery, and maybe one day, I'll be featured at the great show: Mystery at the Museum.

These days, I sleep like a baby. I'm taking 1 ml a day of CBD oil. Far less that the 3 ml I was taking before. At 1 ml, my eyesight is not perfect but still much better than any pills. For sleeping, I take 1.5 ml of 18:0 oil. I still feel like a boring party with the 18:0 and a mega-rave with the 10:10. I consume the 18:0 because otherwise, I'm tripping out. I have a deep sleep for four hours and three to five hours of regular sleep.

If Dr. Smart believes that I will never touch marijuana again, I say good on him. Cannabis helps me so much for sleeping. At least, I found a way better "natural" alternative to chemical sleeping pills. And since I take a shower every night, my sweating problem is also gone!


If you think the worst is behind me...

It’s been four weeks since I’ve been back, and I still cannot sit in my manual wheelchair. The problem? My butt was put through so much abuse at the hospital that it is now extra sensitive. I had an excellent system with my Jay 3 cushions. Trying to improve my situation, I bought a brand new cushion for $850.

Conclusion: The new cushion isn't helping, and I need a new manual wheelchair as soon as possible. I could get it from Alberta Aid to Daily Living, but the process is too long. I need new wheels and a two Roho cushions. One for my power wheelchair and one for my manual. That’s $1500 just for the cushions and $3000 for the wheelchair. I need to pay for everything. The expensive cushion I purchased is not good and I cannot return it.

Since I’ve returned home, I use my power wheelchair for going out, watch a little bit of TV, and mostly spend all afternoon in my bed. Unfortunately, my power wheelchair just broke down. Luckily it is still drivable, but I'm kind of scared to use it. If my power wheelchair is out for repair, I fear for the worst. I honestly don't even know how I will manage life without my wheelchair.

All this because a Doctor decided to lock me down for absolutely no reason.