Showing posts with label S. Clay Wilson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label S. Clay Wilson. Show all posts

Friday, July 19, 2013

S. CLAY WILSON UPDATE

The immortal Wilson will be 72 on 7/25. For those of you unfamiliar with the history of comics, he is one of the original Zap artists who stoked the Underground comics movement. Several years ago he had a near-death experience--a traumatic brain injury--that left him in a severely diminished state. His wife Lorraine Chamberblain has become his full time caregiver despite her own medical issues, which are daunting. Her job description during these difficult years includes not only the physical and emotional work that must be done for Wilson's survival, but the mind-numbing task of dealing with the state medical bureaucracy. Though they live in a rent control apartment there are many other expenses besides housing that must be covered. In a recent letter which I will paste below, Lorraine mentions that "the trust fund is dismally low now, which worries me a lot. It pays for some medical bills, meds, the phone, cable, Internet and cleaning supplies & clothes, etc. Way more going out than coming in."
  By requesting that you contribute to his trust fund, I am challenging the concept of free content, which seems to tbe main currency of the internet. I will sweeten the deal by offering a FREE vintage 8-pager (the second ever published, my 1972 "Underground Cartooning Course") as an incentive. Go on to my Etsy site ScribeArt listed in the right column, and you'll see that it has a retail value of $20. Either buy one and I will forward the funds to Lorraine, or send a check to her directly and let me know. The check/m.o. should be made out to
S. CLAY WILSON S.N.T. (special needs trust)
P. O. Box 14854
San Francisco, CA 94114

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
for Paypal contributions and further news, visit
www.sclaywilson.com
  
from Lorraine 7/17 
Here's a photo I took of him in the back yard last week (shown above). It was a gorgeous day, and he was happy to sit and watch the little girls from upstairs have a tea party while I repotted a plant. We were out there for a couple of hours, and he smiled the whole time. Today, however, he is extremely wobbly, and nearly fell over twice on his way to the bathroom. He seems to be staring off, too, which is worrisome. I'm calling his doctor, as the shunt in his brain may need adjusting. Or maybe he is just a little tired today. I will make an appointment for him to get checked out.

He hasn't been able to draw for a long time now. He can do nothing for himself. He watches movies. That's it. I try to keep him cheery and clean and feeling loved, but when I put drawing materials in front of him, he usually just looks at it. A few months ago, he drew what may have been clouds, or possibly talk bubbles for a cartoon. They were kind of close together, pointing every which way. He used a red pen. After a couple of hours I took it all away, as it was making him a bit sad. 

He understands more than most people might think, but if a person talks too much, or changes the subject too fast, he gets confused. One time, when we were walking along outside, I had been blathering, and I asked him if he understood what I was saying, or did it just sound like "gobbledegook". He answered, "Gobbledegook". Disappointing to say the least! But I continue to talk to him throughout the day, telling him what I've been doing, where I went, etc. He likes the attention. When people visit him, if they just talk to him like they would anyone, he will often smile or give a belly laugh. So I know he gets a lot of it. If a visitor is uncomfortable and tongue-tied, he will just stare off and refuse to smile or respond. That has happened a few times, making an old friend feel even more uncomfortable. But they shouldn't take it personally. He can be really grumpy sometimes. You just never know.
I encourage people to call him just to say hello and tell him what they're up to. He can't really talk, but he responds for a minute or two before handing me the phone. It always makes him happy, even if it's just for a minute.

He has become pretty frail. It is really hard to get him to cooperate and walk with me around the apartment, much less out on the sidewalk. Outside, the sounds of the traffic or people walking past sometimes scares him. It is almost impossible to get him to walk for more than a few minutes. He will just sit down. I have to bring the wheelchair when we go outside, and he wants to sit in it after getting only as far as the corner. The sidewalks are uneven and very dangerous, so he could trip quite easily. There is just no way to keep his leg muscles strong! When I have him pedal on the machine, I have to sit in front of him and nag repeatedly, or he just stops. He only does it for a couple of minutes before he stops no matter how many times I remind him to pedal. You can see the dilemma. He is getting weaker and weaker as the months and years go by.
But he is kind of happy a lot of the time. I spend a great deal of energy trying to keep him feeling positive and cared for. I never want him to feel lonely or sad. But of course, sometimes I want to just run into the street, screaming, as anyone taking care of someone with dementia must feel. A few months ago one time, when he'd made a terrible mess, I said "If you are playing a practical joke here, it is the longest-running one of all time and belongs in the Guiness Book of World Records!" He just laughed, then looked confused. Of course he's not faking! But he used to think other people, like his mother, (who died of Altzheimers and failed to recognize him in the end), were. 

I am becoming a little more crippled myself these days, as now my right hip is going. I can't put my own shoe & sock on, and often yell in sudden pain when I am walking or sitting down or lying down or standing up or just BEING...you get the idea. I can no longer go up stairs with my right leg at all. I need hip replacement, but just when I could arrange it is still a dilemma. I would have to put Wilson in the hospital. He is only allowed to be there for 30 days, or SSI will not send our checks. Then we would lose our apartment, as we're already living on pennies. So I'd have to bring him home within 3 weeks and start taking care of him again til midnight every day. It's difficult to take care of him with the back & hip pain I'm already in. Plus, I prefer to go see him every day when he's in a facility. He won't let anyone else touch him or give him his meds 4 times a day! So I have to go help. (Although sometimes the nurse will call and put him on the phone and I've been able to talk him in to cooperating). Oy vay....so much to consider!

I've invited some of his friends over for a little birthday party on Sunday, the 28th. The real day is the 25th, but that's a Thursday. I'll give him a little celebration on that day myself. So he gets two parties this year!

Sunday, March 25, 2012

An Old Devil's Angel

S. Clay Wilson Update
(most recent, and very disturbing, 6/11-at bottom)
  Readers of this blog and those with a general interest in Underground comics know all about the terrible circumstances in which S. Clay Wilson and his devoted wife Lorraine Chamberlain have been living these past few years (see earlier entry “7/25/11 S. Clay Wilson Turns 70”). The quality of Wilson’s remaining life is dependent to a great extent on the energy that Lorraine is able to give him. She needs us to help her continue this difficult and relentless work. The most effective way to do that is to make a donation to the Trust Fund. Please do what you can.

Thanks


S. Clay Wilson S.N.T. (Special Needs Trust)
P.O. Box 14854
San Francisco, CA 94114



4/21 post...This follows one that I omitted, in which W took a sudden nosedive and the situation looked extremely grim. This one is from the following day. There was also a note thanking all who donated thus far. 

When I arrived today, Wilson was sleeping. I kept bugging him, saying it was his 1pm forced feeding, which made him smile even tho he didn't open his eyes. I finally got him to take some bites of his lunch. He managed some grapes, pineapple, the top of his sandwich, and some milk. Better than nothing! Then Ace arrived, and he really did wake up. Ace told some jokes and made him chuckle. Still couldn't say his own name, nor mine, but he was more alert than yesterday and his color had returned. The ct scan showed no change from before, so that was sort of good, at least. Later on I got him dressed and we took him downstairs in a wheelchair and practiced getting him in & out of the bathtub with a transfer bench. He was really cooperative. Then I got the car and we tried to get him in & out of that....but I couldn't get him back out. The therapist finally had to lift him. That will take more work, strengthening his legs. (I won't be able to take him out in the car without help til he gets stronger.) I had been pulling him out of there for the past month without help, nearly killing myself. I can't continue to do that, obviously.
Thanks to everyone who wrote & called. It made me feel so much less alone.
I'll find out next Monday or Tuesday if I'm bringing him home next weekend. They may want to keep him a bit longer to stabilize him and also give me a break before bringing him home, where it will now be more difficult to take care of him. We'll see....
I want to give him many more years of a happy life at home. I believe it's still possible.
Best,
Lorraine

 FORWARDED MAIL ADDED 5/3 from Lorraine to Ron Turner
It has been a process, getting the staff at the Tunnell Center to understand how to deal with Wilson.
Even though I have spent at least 6 hours a day there.
The doctor at this new place has changed his meds, even though they lowered them at Davies a couple of days before they discharged him. So yesterday, he mostly just stared at me. (This was disturbing, as he always answers YES or NO to my questions, at least!) The doctor saw him for the first time on Tuesday, as he wasn't there on Monday. That's only 3 days he's known him, so this staring thing was a puzzle to the staff until I tracked him down and told him this was extremely unusual behavior. They didn't know him well enough to think otherwise. They've taken him off Trazadone, which is mostly for sleeping, and lowered his anti-psychotic meds to one dose at night. This is to get him more perky, and willing to get up out of bed. He has walked each day a little farther, but it's still only about 150 feet. In light of this, they plan to keep him for another couple of weeks, so he will presumably be stronger when he comes home.
The hard part is he is so uncooperative with anyone but me. Most days I end up giving him his meds when I get there, as he refuses to take them from the nurse most mornings, even though they call me to speak to him. 
This puts a burden on me that has got to stop. I am exhausted from all of this, and don't have the time or energy to do anything else in the course of a day. I get up and get ready to race over there, and leave just in time to get a parking spot at home at the end of the day. I do emails when I get home, eat something, and have to lie down for the rest of the night.
I'm on my way there soon, after I take a shower. Yesterday, by the time I'd helped clean him up, get him dressed and take him for a walk, got him to eat his lunch, put him in the shower seat, washed him down, got his diaper & gown back on and got him back in bed, my back was a mess. But with all that attention he was finally smiling and answering me in the afternoon. I stayed to introduce him to another therapist, and finally got home at 5.
I am excited to see if he's more cooperative today after having possibly adjusted to lower meds. I'll let you all know.
Best, 
Lorraine 


 FORWARDED MAIL ADDED 5/29 from Lorraine to Ron Turner

The night nurse just called. I've been waiting ALL DAY for the techs to arrive to do the ultrasound. Since lunch time, they've been saying they're "on the way". From a neighboring GALAXY? I finally came home with the assertion they call once the test was done.
Anyway...he DOES have DVT. I couldn't understand the answer when I asked where the clot is, but will find out tomorrow when I go. If I hadn't been in the habit of looking him over every day, this could have killed him. And still could til the Cumadin kicks in. Thank god I took photos and insisted it wasn't a SUNBURN on one leg, (like that would be real) and insisted they do an ultrasound. I'm glad I told my sister about it last Wednesday, and she said it sounded like a blood clot. I had no idea WHAT it was. I only knew it looked like an emergency, and told them right away. And it's now a whole week later.
I am relieved that they have found it, but outraged at what it took to get anyone to pay attention. Even today, they were saying "well, it isn't red any more, so it's probably not a clot". I reminded them that he's been bedridden since Thursday, with it elevated. Jesus.
Now I need to talk to a real doctor to find out what the next step should be. I'll try to get ahold of his Dr in the morning, and if nothing else works, I'll go up and ask to speak to the Dr in Davies....the nice one. I need some real advice on how long he should stay in bed, and what to expect. I have a discharge meeting there on Thursday, and am interviewing caregivers. I need to know if he should go back to a hospital, or if he can come home in a week.
I'm exhausted.
Later,
Lorraine


 FORWARDED MAIL ADDED 6/11 from Lorraine to Ron Turner

Today's ultrasound showed that Wilson's DVT has not responded to medication, and the doctor now advises sending him to the hospital. I believe he will be moved to St Mary's tomorrow. (thanks to Ron Turner for his reassurance about that place....I only know I don't want him returned to the hospital he was in before!). I am very worried. The clot is extremely large. 
Not much else to say. I'll go at noon, and hopefully they will move him shortly after I arrive. (I only know they're not moving him before that.)
Another hard night.....
L

Saturday, July 9, 2011

7/25/11 S. Clay Wilson Turns 70

If you are familiar with my work, you can probably spot a drawing by S. Clay Wilson from across a room. You have doubtless heard about his debilitating condition, the result of a catastrophic fall several years ago. There were hopeful signs of in the early weeks following his recovery from a coma. These days those signs are far and few in between days of constant maintenance and care by his devoted wife Lorraine Chamberlain in their S. F. apartment.
  The mercurial, provocative, hilarious Mr. W is somewhere inside of the being who resembles him. An occasional flash of the eyes and hint of a smile belie the long silences and monosyllables. He no longer draws, but  knows that he once did. It's on us to remind him of how great his work is and to affirm his presence here. Recognition of birthdays (especially his own!) is still one of his core beliefs. If you could send a card to him, Lorraine will patiently read it to him and explain the imagery. If you read this post after the all-important date, then maybe you could send a Christmas card. Or better yet, a Halloween card would touch his old demon's heart. You can also send donations at any time to:
S. CLAY WILSON S.N.T. (Special Needs Trust)
P.O. Box 14854
San Francisco, CA 94114
or through secure site:
http://www.sclaywilsontrust.com

  I recently wrote about the importance of Wilson's work in the Afterword to the McSweeney's edition of Binky Brown Meets The Holy Virgin Mary, so I don't need permission to quote:
  The very title of the work was a conscious nod to S. Clay Wilson. The word "meets" is in reference to Ruby and the Dykes Meet the Pirates. The active verb guarantees conflict, or reconciliation of opposites. The title of my book was a resolution writ large, to hasten confrontation with my yet-to-be-determined deepest fears. Though seldom lauded these days in the same sentence as Crumb, it was Wilson's feisty spirit that permeated many of the Underground titles, so devoid of the milk of human kindness.
   Soon after meeting me, he dubbed me "Guilty Green." With his strong personality and penchant for the undiluted, if uncomfortable truth, Wilson constantly challenged my artistic pretensions, yet I managed to hold on to a few of them during our heated exchanges. He was/is consistently true to his unique vision, wielding his pen with astounding versatility, creating immoral panoramas with the devotion of a monk. He is also capable of producing very tender images. While other cartoonists had published pornographic images it was Wilson's transgressive scenarios that redefined the standard of what is "beyond the pale."