1986 Was A Good Year?

Tuesday, January 28, 1986. While the world was reeling from the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster, I was feeling dismayed from just having been told that I could not complete my schooling to become a Registered Nurse. Officially, I was only in my second semester of the program. But after having spent the past ten months being tested at the Reading Rehabilitation Hospital for learning disabilities without there being any conclusive diagnosis, St. Joseph Hospital School of Nursing decided it couldn't deal with the slow connection between my brain and my physical aptitude. Despite having aced all my bookwork, I was a bumbling idiot in the practical field. Enough was finally enough.

Autism was not a spectrum back then. What I displayed didn't fit into any diagnostic category. Yes, I had difficulty learning. But since it couldn't be identified, their answer was to kick me out of school. I was too much for them to handle. Although I still liked being in health care very much because of my volunteer work with the Governor Mifflin Area Ambulance Association and working for the Berks Visiting Nurse Association, I figured it was a matter of time before I find something I could do. In June of that year, I thought I found it when I was hired to be a paid ambulance attendant with the Valley Transport Ambulance Service in Easton, PA.

I talk about my time working for the ambulance service in my book The Doctor Is In, so I won't rehash it here. What I will mention is the fact that that job finally got me to leave the nest for the first time. I was 23 years old, still quite socially naïve, and impressed by much. For the first week or so, I would take the 55-mile drive every morning to the ambulance garage in downtown Easton. After I saw how exhausting the drive itself was, and also working eight-plus hours a day carrying people around, I decided to look for a place to live somewhere in between. That took me to the YMCA on East Broad Street in the city of Bethlehem. Now I had only eleven miles to travel with plenty of time to stop for breakfast in the morning.

Although the job lasted only three and a half months, thanks to bullying and early-morning burnout, I had some good memories of traveling the Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton area and of what it was like to live on my own for the first time. Yesterday, I finally got the chance to revisit the area, to remember, and to reflect. Although the circumstances that brought me back to the area are now very different, I started noticing the shift in my conscience two nights ago when I went to the adults-with-autism support group hosted by Unending Promise, a nonprofit organization that offers support services to people with autism and their families in Berks County. Of the auties, I was the oldest one there. I think I was older than all the parents as well. When they saw that I had a copy of my book there, I suddenly became a respected source of information and inspiration. It was eerie and uplifting at the same time. That led me to the conclusion, though, that I have outgrown the group and that it was now finally time for me to have a place in the world.

Things do change in 27 years. New highways, new shopping centers, and new developments left the Allentown-Bethlehem-Easton area barely recognizable. The parts that I remember are now considered the "historic" districts. That certainly made me feel old! I never did have much of a connection with Allentown, and with the new I-78 highway, I didn't see much of it anyway. It did feel odd, though, to be driving right past the Lehigh Valley Hospital Center on a freeway. My main focus was to revisit the YMCA and the old ambulance station. I never did know much of Bethlehem. I only knew the streets leading from highway 22 to the YMCA and Freemansburg Avenue, which is the road that I drove every day to work. Simply passing by the YMCA wasn't enough. I wanted to see my old room and reflect.

I went inside, and I asked if I could talk to the housing director. In a few minutes, she came out to greet me. She was a lady named Jan who was nice enough to show me around. Walking into the housing unit again definitely brought back memories, although the place looked nothing like it did in 1986. I recalled where the old elevator was. I talked about what my room looked like and how dark and dingy the hallways were. I reminisced about the nights I would return home from work and look out my window to see the blue flames rising from the smokestacks at the Bethlehem Steel factory. It all came rushing back to me. My room had only a cot, a rinkydink dresser, a chair, and a lamp. The shower room used to be one big open cave. Everything was different now. They even house women, and visitors are also allowed. This was unheard of way back then. As I left the building, I contemplated how far I've come from those young and naive years.

My next stop was the waterfront area in the city of Easton. There used to be a Perkins Restaurant that looked out over the Delaware River there. That was one of my regular breakfast stops before I'd go to work. The restaurant closed its doors in 2007, and the building is no longer there. Passing through the area, seeing the old open grate Northampton Street bridge that crosses the river into Phillipsburg, New Jersey, and driving through the circle in downtown with the Soldier & Sailor monument and fountain in the middle brought back memories. Then it was on to North 6th Street to see what was left of the old ambulance station. Lo and behold, it was still there, standing across from the new Central Fire Station.

The building was now a big old empty eyesore that had the sign "Valley Ambulance Service" above the garage bay doors. The ambulance service had changed its name from Valley Transport Ambulance Service to Valley Ambulance Service In 1988 after it started providing Advanced Life Support emergency service to the area. There were some street repairs going on alongside the building, therefore I didn't get the chance to park and walk around. However, one of the garage doors was open, and I enjoyed an eyeful of the inside of the building. I could see myself climbing those steps to go to the office upstairs where I would pick up the paperwork for the day before I and my driver would leave for the day.

If you had read my book, you would recall some of my horror stories of working for that place. The reason they hired me in the first place was because they were in contention with other ambulance companies to become the new provider of emergency services for the city of Reading when the Reading Fire Department eliminated its ambulance squad. Since I was from Reading, they already had a person who knew the city among their crewmembers. Even though they never won the contract, karma got the last laugh when the city of Bethlehem cancelled its contract with Valley in 1989 for providing backup emergency services and went with Bethlehem Township's volunteer squad instead citing, ""Bethlehem Township is a higher class of provider." (Bethlehem's Health Bureau Director Glen Cooper). As far as I know, Valley Ambulance Service ceased to exist shortly afterwards. After quitting that job in September of 1986, I returned back to Reading, and I spent the months of November and December working as a security guard first for Burns Security and then Security Guards Incorporated.

Next it was off to the event that brought me back to the area in the first place -- the first-ever Local Authors Night at the Barnes & Noble just off highway 33 in Easton. Neither that section of highway 33 nor the Southmont Center shopping complex existed in 1986. All of this now sits on what was once the Bethlehem Industrial Park. These additions certainly brought new life and new scenery to an area that seemed to be going by the wayside. It actually felt good to be back in the area again because of this. Although I arrived in the middle of the afternoon, I browsed the bookstore and spent time online in the café at Barnes & Noble. The event wasn't scheduled to start until 7 pm, so I had lots of time to kill.

There were thirty authors from all over southeastern Pennsylvania. Before and during the event, we got to mingle and get to know each other. I didn't feel so alone when many of them shared their stories of rejection and heartache at the hands of the myriad of publishers and literary agents they contacted. This is a very big reason why the indie author movement is so big. Everyone has their story to tell, and thanks to places like Publish-On-Demand publishers and Do-It-Yourself printers such as CreateSpace and Lulu (the publisher of my book), we are succeeding in our own way. The downside to that is that we have to spend our own money and time to promote our work. In the end, it's the publicity that counts, and this event was the perfect opportunity for all of us to be heard.

Although the event seemed like a great idea, and this was the first time that this Barnes & Noble was trying such a thing, it didn't go as well as planned. People were hoping to sell lots of books, and Barnes & Noble was hoping for a major turnout. But none of that happened. There was definitely a draw of people, but not the crowd that was expected. The people that came were all there to browse. I don't think that even a third of the authors there sold a single book. Some left early. All in all, I was glad for the happenings of the entire day. And as I drove back home to Lancaster County, I felt as though I came to a sense of closure in regards to that awful year of 1986. Closure is always a good thing, especially when you know that great things lie just ahead in the not-too-far-off future.

On My Return To Pennsylvania

I have no regrets about what I did in life, what I said to whom, where I went, or what I experienced. There is an old saying that says, "Everything happens for a reason." When I start putting two and two together, I realize how every single event in my life has been a lesson, a lesson which contributed to the learning of a bigger truth. Nothing has ever been in vain. That includes my rather abrupt and unplanned return to my home town of Reading, Pennsylvania. I consider it a "necessary evil," a part of the bigger plan that God has in store for me.

In my book The Doctor Is In, I surmised that the reason for my return to PA was so I can finally face up to the demons of the past which caused me to flee twenty years ago. I left my home state because I could not find work here after finally having a prominent credential as a Respiratory Therapist in my hand. As it was par for the course in 1992, it seemed that nobody wanted me around. So I left to go to a place where I was wanted. Even though I moved up the ladder since then, it seemed that not being wanted or needed was my karma no matter where I went during the next twenty years. Even despite my return to PA, it seems that there is no way to shake this destiny. But the specific events that happened along the way helped me to see things in a different light. I will not rehash those events or the lessons learned here. For those you'll just have to read my book. But what I will say is that I'm not done searching yet, thanks to a hope that I am basing on two very influential facts: that God will always take me to where She feels I need to be at the moment, and my astrocartograph will always be there to give me a (self-guided) sense of direction.

I returned to Pennsylvania April 28 after suddenly becoming jobless, homeless, and penniless in Arizona. I had been in PA for a brief visit earlier in the month. Although I wasn't living comfortably before my visit, it seemed sure that I would have a job and a place to stay lined up for when I returned. But neither happened. After living in my car and taking showers at local truck stops for two days, I packed up all my belongings I had in storage, and I headed back to my mom's house in PA. I figured it was time to figure out why I was never able to stand on my own two feet since becoming a Doctor of Chiropractic thirteen years ago. Had I chosen the wrong profession? I figured I must have since everything is supposed to fall right into place once you start doing what it is you love to do. And I loved being a "healer." Or did I? Maybe it was my egoistic need to be in such a role as a measure of self-importance that led me to want to become a chiropractor, a "doctor." That must be it since it never produced anything substantial for me. I did it all for the wrong reason, and God was letting me know in a rather intriguing series of eye-opening lessons. True, I have autism and an INFJ personality type. That's my "double-whammy," which I explain rather well in my book. But there must be something more to it.

Now it's been four months and three days that I've been here in PA, living at my mom's place in northeastern Lancaster County. I had such an aversion to being here. I certainly didn't want to be back in a place where I felt stuck and unappreciated for the first thirty years of my life. Besides, my own health and my activity level were much better everywhere else I ever lived. I really didn't want to be here. But here I am, and I eventually got used to it, sort of. I needed to figure out what I was going to do and where I was going to go from here. Since my dad passed away just over fourteen months ago, I no longer have his support which allowed me to just pick up and go wherever I wanted. I really am destined to be here for a while, and maybe this is what God had in store for me. Looking on the bright side of things helped me to overcome the notion of being "stuck." I am keeping my mom company and helping her however I can. The area where I live is definitely scenic, and it's always a pleasure to be among the Amish people who live all around us. Having a roof over my head and being around old friends add a bit of ease to some worries. Yet, the goal is to figure out what's next, and that's been the hardest part. There is something that God wants me to learn, and I'm bound to find out.

Then there is my astrocartograph, the actual map which shows where I am destined to experience various aspects of life based on the astrological alignment of the stars at my moment of birth. Although I had the astrocartograph done in early 2001 (or was it late 2000?), I really didn't follow it until I got divorced in early 2012. That's what took me to Yuma, Arizona. Knowing that I had always struggled to build a practice and to be successful at anything on a professional level, I figured I'd follow my Jupiter line, the line that represents the utmost of success. After having lived in Minnesota for almost ten whole years, I wanted to go somewhere warm, and the Fortuna Foothills region of the city of Yuma sat directlyon my Jupiter line. Besides, having a little help from the Heavens seemed like a good plan since self-effort alone produced practically nothing. While I did indeed experience everything I was supposed to in accordance to Jupiter's blessings, including more professional success than I had anywhere else, it still wasn't enough to keep me in a stable situation. In the weeks before returning to PA, my Reiki Master Betty told me I'd probably have a much better life experience if I followed my Venus line instead. There is only one U.S. state that my Venus line passes through, and barely. That is the far eastern tip of the state of Maine. The only other do-able place that is up for consideration is the island of Puerto Rico.

While following my Venus line might be my next course of action, I still need to find my own funds and a secure situation firstbefore I pick up and move on again. This leads me back to the original question of what it is I am doing back here in PA, and what am I supposed to learn from it. Two weeks ago, three different people gave me signs out of the blue that I am supposed to be here for a while yet, maybe permanently. They indicated that God does have something in mind, a life lesson that I would not be able to do without. At the same time, I was told that it's not yet time for me to know what that lesson is. Karma will determine when. One thing Betty told me since being back in PA is that there is karma for me to work through which can only be dealt with here. As far as my astrocartograph goes, Reading, PA sits close to my Saturn line, the line which represents toil and a sense of being unappreciated. While I feel better knowing that this really is par for the course, as the stars say, I just have to sit here patiently and wait for my lesson to come around. Maybe it will be a revelation of what I should be doing with my life. But I recently said to Betty, "I can't imagine myself doing anything else other than what I'm already doing with both chiropractic and Reiki healing."

If there is anything else I'm supposed to be doing, and if there's any other place where I'm supposed to be, She'll let me know.