On Record, They Recorded Nothing.

Why should the other guys get all the good stories? My version, Pandora’s Cuckoo’s Nest, brought to you in part by Dr. Seuss & Judy Blume, and my uncle Randy and my aunt Margaret.

My medical records from the San Diego Psychiatric Hospital are an excellent example of how bad our system of things has deteriorated…

Though I cried out in vain that I should not be given any drugs and begged for my Advance Medical Directive (and my Durable Power of Attorney for Health Care) I was handcuffed and prostrate on a stretcher when I went down into a sea of drug induced white—I was given three separate shots from three separate huge needles from three separate men all standing over me.

Stay Calm and Muppet On.

Here are my medical records in PDF format. Sorry I can’t make much sense of them for you. I’m busy trying to retain my home, calm my mother, and live in a sea of crushed dreams and a broken heart. You’re just going to have to help yourself.

UPDATE: Need to find new place to host files and add back links. angelabaxley.com is no longer.

And in the real life style of sound tracking, I’m currently listening to The Zack Brown Band play Toes on my “Chicken Fried” playlist off of my iPod via Dynax into my Bose PC Sound Speakers.

I was thinking, I should invite him to come hang at my beach. Because while they’ve worried about my sanity, I’m thrilled to hear “Prop me up beside the jukebox, if I die.” Yeah, that sounds about right. If they can’t kill me after sending me into the County Mental Health—twice. Sending my mother to kill me (seriously y’all, have you met my momma, I love her but man does she love to kill me!) and then killing my dog?! Yeap. I’m a redneck hippy and I’m sitting on my Windansea picket fence patio rocking Country music with a Nantucket Bike Basket sitting on my wrought iron high chair. Couldn’t get more picture perfect if I tried, but I then again, I guess you should have been here! 🙂

Lord, I want to go to heaven! But I don’t want to go tonight! (I never did feel like I’d want to be one of the 144,000, and now here I am reconsidering. Funny thing those drugs, they make you think all kinds of spiritual experiential things! Like you can live forever!)

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