Gee, there’s so many topics to choose from. Global politics, how the streaming revolution has changed television, the plight of the indigenous peoples of Indonesia, alienatingly frank facts about my sex life, maybe even a bon mot or two about the latest celebrity scandal or political brouhaha….
Nah. Too corny. Let’s mix it up a bit and talk about how my legs are dying.
I’ve been trying to grapple with the subject rationally, using this big ol’ brain of mine. What could possibly account for these symptoms?
Nothing minor,. I am afraid. Because whatever it is, it’s weakening all my major leg muscles and inflaming all the joints at the same time.
And it’s progressing. So it can’t be any sort of simple injury.
It could definitely still be an infection. In which case it’s been raging out of control for a really long time now and someone should really look into stopping it.
One would think that if it was an infection, it would have been detected on one of my many visits to the ER.
But I dunno. Maybe it’s some weird kind of thing that doesn’t show up on normal tests.
That would explain a lot.
An infection is the only thing I can think of that would account for how non-localized it is. A tumour would obviously have a locus – the tumour. And a degenerative disease would surely have more symptoms than just leg death.
So it must be something more subtle and/or complex.
It could all be fundamentally neurological. Highly likely given my unchecked diabetes and all the feeling I have lost in my feet.
Plus subtle little things like half my face and most of my left hand going numb.
I have a strong suspicion that I might be in very poor neurological condition indeed. There’s also the random serious pains I get out of nowhere.
Those probably means something is dying.
And yet I still can’t motivate myself to get the shit done I should be getting done. Calling the company about my POS continuous glucometer and getting it working. Calling Ray at Coastal Sleep about my CPAP machine making me wake up gasping for air about thirty minutes after I go to sleep.
That’s very bad.
That can probably be fixed by increasing the pressure a bit. Clearly it’s almost working. Air is getting through, just not quite enough. Kind of like having a slow leak.
If I fixed either or both of those things, my life would undoubtedly get much, much better, and I would be a much happier, saner, and stronger individual.
Maybe that’s why I can’t do it. That’s too much change.
Sounds glib but there might be a lot of truth to that. Even positive change can be very scary to a weak and frightened soul like mine.
The caterpillar can’t know for sure that it will become a butterfly. Maybe it will just die instead, and what could be worse than that?
But I don’t want to be the world’s oldest caterpillar any more.
I want to pupate and grow up. I’ve lingered in this form far too long and it’s gone to see. I need to move on to the next stage so that I might be reborn anew.
But first I need to let that little piece of me die.
And I am not ready for that yet.
I’m not ready for that…. yet.
More after the break,
Something that just occurred to me : it’s called a vacation because you vacate your usual home to go on it, thus leaving it vacant.
This changes everything.
My addiction to lunch meat is out of control… I’m going to have to quit cold turkey.
The paradox of genius
I sometimes wonder if my life would have been better if it had been way harder.
In a lot of ways, being born with a sky high IQ is like being born rich or good-looking. A lot of things are going to come to you with very little real effort on your part and as a result you never need to learn to work hard and overcome yourself.
Then sooner or later, the real world happens, and you reach your limits, and there you stay because you have no experience of ever overcoming your own limitations and so as far as you know, this is it. Those limitations are carved in stone. Anything that doesn’t come easily to you is something you just “can’t do” or are “no good at” and that can never and will never ever change. It’s a fixed attribute.
Compare that to someone who struggles academically. They have no choice but to learn to work hard, focus, and overcome their limitations because otherwise they will fail. Their lot in life is initially much harder than mine.
But there’s a reason it’s the dropouts who go on to found and run Fortune 500 companies and end up rolling in enough dough to make a gingerbread man the size of King Kong’s older brother.
It’s because hard work and focus and drive are way more valuable than being clever.
Yup. Turns out your parents were right. Sorry.
So brains are great and all, and I really appreciate mine (more often than not), but it is clear to me that I might well have been better off having to work for things.
I can be more than I am.
I can me more like who I am.
I can be upright, and focused, and strong
I can write my own ticket and sing my own song
I can choose who I am, where I go, what I do
I can live my beliefs and see everything through
I can run with the dogs, I can play with the rest
Because I AM good enough. Matter of fact, I am blessed
So farewell to the shame from just being alive
You’ve kept me from living. From now on, I will THRIVE.
There goes that poetry thing again.
I rather like that one, though.
Maybe I will even submit it to something someday!
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.