Wednesday 11 April 2018

On Time and Prospects.

Today has been quite a good day physically, and yet I’ve felt an increasing sense of depression as the day has worn on.

In a way that’s odd because I had a visit from and old and valued friend this afternoon. It was none other than the Ms Wong I used to mention occasionally on this blog, and not only was it lovely to see her but it was also nice to see how good she looks. She’s forty two now, but has the face of a thirty-year-old and a figure which hasn’t changed in the twenty three years I’ve known her. But maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe she reminded me of the good old days when I was fit, strong and healthy myself.

I also had a text message this morning telling me that my next scheduled appointment at the dreaded hospital for whatever test they’re planning is next Wednesday. It left me feeling that this whole business has changed my life to some extent or other, particularly with regard to my personal future. I fear I might be entering a phase of routine screenings with all the attendant anxieties which every visit will inevitably entail, and also the sense of being on an endless personal treadmill of imperfection. I wonder whether being human has much value if you’re not a fully functioning member of the species.

One’s view of one’s future can never be better than hazy, of course, because none of us knows what chance might throw in our path. But mine looks suddenly dark and foggy, and I see darker shapes moving in the gloom which might be mirages or might be real. Time will tell, no doubt, as time always does.

7 comments:

Della said...

Yes, I can imagine how difficult and worrying it must be, to feel oneself 'on an endless personal treadmill of imperfection'. I am somehow optimistic about your situation though, in spite of having little information or insight into your prognosis. I'm not getting any younger either and life starts to bring more aches, pains and other like annoyances as the years go by, so the thought has crossed my mind, too. That is, whether 'being human has much value if you're not a fully functioning member of the species'(haha, I'm quoting because I like your turn of phrase). I imagine there must be consolations, things that outweigh our difficulties, to keep us carrying on. For me, distraction is often the best medicine. Not to minimize your situation (because of course I'm not facing what you are these days), but judging from your blog posts you do seem to be good at distraction. I am positive about your prospects and can only hope that you keep writing, bird and people watching, and even whinging (is it? we say complaining :)) every day because it's those things that also make one smile and make life worth living.

JJ said...

Thanks for your optimism, Della; I hope you’re right. I have to admit that some things are improving nicely, like the general abdominal pain and my appetite, but I’m disappointed that I’m still so tired, weak, listless and light headed. And my real concern is what happens at the next appointment. I certainly don’t relish any more crises like the one that hit me the last time I had the catheter removed and tried to function without it, and certainly not if it happens later when I’m home alone. How is one supposed to cope with something like that? I read the discharge report on that incident and it seems they used more techniques and medications than I was aware of at the time. But then I was semi-conscious through much of it.

(I’m thinking of having the report framed to hang on a wall, by the way. I can use it as my version of a wooden leg and a parrot, and show it to my grandchildren before doing the ‘Kids today? Don’t know they’re born!’ thing.)

As for compensations, it’s a bit like somebody saying ‘I know you can’t eat peanuts now you have no teeth, but at least you’ve discovered a taste for bread and warm milk.’

I jest, but I’m still nervous.

In any event, thank you so much for following the action and taking the time to comment. I do value your effort and concern.

Della said...

I have some phobias I can't seem to conquer (of planes and dentists) without having had any particularly traumatic experiences to account for them. So I can't imagine how I'd cope facing another medical appointment like yours after such an experience. Xanax? Works for me on the plane. It's an anti-panic medication and just takes the edge off. I also have a relation whose medical issues necessitate frequent MRI scans on her head. She has terrible fears and claustrophobia about being in the tunnel and so has been prescribed anti-panic medication to take beforehand. Apparently it helps. Maybe discuss it with your doctor, I don't see how it can hurt.

I will be crossing my fingers for you, hoping the next stage of this situation will be better and you can manage.

JJ said...

The way I feel about this doesn't so much have the sharp sense of panic about it, more a dull, nagging sense of dread at being taken out of my own environment and thrown into this vast edifice where somebody is going to ‘work’ on me. It’s all about freedom. It reminds me of the story of how Emily Bronte could never function working in somebody else’s environment as a governess or teacher. The last time brought her so low that Charlotte feared she would die and fetched her out. I described it in a recent post as feeling like a wild squirrel, trapped and taken out of its wildwood and thrown into a cage with the lab rats.

I need to be free to be who I am and do what I want to do. Any kind of activity forced on me by another makes me wilt, and the older I get the stronger it’s becoming. And then there’s the fear of another dose of the horror I experienced last Thursday. As if the entrapment isn’t enough…

As for anti-stress medication, I’ve considered it often but the same problem arises. I feel that any mind-altering medication will change who I am, even if only slightly and temporarily. It would feel as though I were submitting to another form of constriction. I suppose that’s the price of freedom – having to be fully conscious of the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune which drop on our heads now and then.

Hey ho, let’s hope the next couple of weeks will bring some sight of the finishing tape (I now have two further visits arranged, not one as I thought.)

Thanks again for your concern, Della. I'm curious to know how your daughter fared in Edinburgh.

Della said...

Ah yes, ok. Be careful where you follow Emily! :) I do hope these next two appointments go well. I sometimes wonder if a full explanation of what the procedure will be helps or not. When I have a dreaded appointment I play a game with myself where I think about plans for the following day, and try to preoccupy myself with that. It works a bit. More for the reassurance that I'll still be around.

My daughter is still in Edinburgh, finishing up her third year. Her Social Policy course is 4 years, a Scottish Masters, so there's still one to go. She is currently doing an internship with an Education Minister and loves it. She enjoys the city and we've visited her several times now, travelling all around Scotland. It's such beautiful country. I think it rained for a full week during one visit, but I still enjoyed it. Meanwhile, my son is studying Media in Amsterdam. He enjoys it too, but Amsterdam is a very expensive city which detracts a bit from the experience. They’re both fired-up people, with strong ideals, and part of this ‘woke generation’ (ie., sensitive to the injustices around us). They need to be, in this world.

JJ said...

I admit to being impressed by how much more 'awake' young people are these days. My generation mostly went along with cultural conditioning as previous generations had. The hippy movement was very much on the fringe and always destined to fade, I think, but the need for change seems to be coursing through the veins of today's brighter young people across the board. They're my one reason for optimism with regard to the future, and I think there's a war going on between them and a worldwide establishment of power and wealth which wants to maintain the status quo.

At the moment I'm seeing young people making the effort to bring about improvements in small areas, and I'm aware that it's relatively easy to raise money to fund a water supply for an African village, but quite another to rebuild the system. But I have hope that the radical imperative will grow slowly (as I think it must) and that the next generation of middle aged people will start to make the world a better place. The bigger the will, the stronger the way.

Della said...

Absolutely, I couldn't agree more.