Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching

I’m sipping my coffee and ignoring (as much as I can) the chronic pain of my osteo-arthritis, which radiates upward from my spinal fusion, which was done years ago, when the state of the art was quite different than it is today. I knew then that my surgery was a new approach to the problem, and that some outcomes were unknown. The goal was to prevent me from ending up in a wheelchair partially paralyzed, and to allow me to continue to serve on active duty (Army). I guess for most values of success, my surgeries were a great success. I’m still walking. I did continue to serve (was even deployed to war in the 90s’), after a period of convalescent “retirement”, although I got “RIF’d” after that war (which broke my heart, but is an altogether unrelated story). So, generally, I’ve nothing to regret about that surgery if I’m just thinking about those details. But…

…There were consequences – of both the injury itself, and the surgeries that followed. The arthritis started to develop in my spine about 3 years after my surgeries. I didn’t understand why I was in so much pain all the time, and it took a rather stupid amount of time for that to be appropriately diagnosed; I was young. Medical bias being a real thing, many doctors were persistently just as “mystified” as I was. What could be causing my pain? How could I have arthritis at my young age? I still feel frustration and annoyance by that lack of curiosity, and lack of diagnostic skill (or persistance). Pain they could not feel themselves did not matter to them.

Then, there were the other things… the persistent chronic itch below my left shoulder blade, that I couldn’t quite reach and that scratching didn’t ease. A “phantom itch” that still bothers me occasionally (CBT really helped with that). A chronically cramped muscle down low on my back, on the left side of my body, most likely a result of the disturbed section of musculature attaching to my spine being put back “not quite in the right place” during my surgery (to make room for the hardware that was there for a year) and which healed into a new, less than ideal, location. This, too, still bothers me, often. Most of it I had to “figure out” in pieces, with limited help from too many doctors, and a lot of study. Sexual challenges (both neurological, and also to do with practical matters like lubrication) that were awkward to discuss were another thing; I was past 60 before a physician finally said, with some surprise, “of course that’s related to your spinal injury” after looking at my records, surgical reports, and images, and listening to me with great care. She seemed so matter-of-fact about it, I ended up enraged for days that no one else had said as much. I went through some shit over that issue with more than one lover, I can tell you. Turned out it wasn’t “my fault” or “a lack of desire”, or anything I could actually do much about; I have a spinal injury. Duh. I spent a few days moping around pretty pissed off about it.

What I thought I understood.

Why am I on about this, today? It’s to do with perspective and knowledge, and how those create our understanding (or don’t). I knew coming out of my surgery all those years ago that I had a permanent “30% stenosis”, and I felt that I understood what that meant. I mean, words having meaning, and I knew the meanings of the words…so… I understand? Don’t I? I thought I “got it”. My lack of real understanding was stunning, and it would be decades before that changed. It wasn’t actually a doctor that changed my understanding. It was math – and a moment at the dining room table with my Traveling Partner; a “lightbulb moment” to do with circles, that was completely unrelated to my spine, my injury, or my pain. lol (Pay attention in school, kids – math matters, and it’s useful stuff.) Something clicked.

What I hadn’t understood, in spite of seeing the images, reading the reports, and discussing with doctors, was what my stenosis meant in my case, specifically. For many years, I imagined 30% percent stenosis as a uniform 30% reduction in a circular area. (I felt pretty stupid when my understanding changed.) Firstly, the spinal canal as a “tubular structure” is not a beautifully perfect mathematical cylinder wherein a slice would appear circular. Not at all. It’s quite different than that. Also, and more importantly, my injury (which crushed two vertebrae, and broke off a spinous process which was then forced into my spinal canal by the impact and subsequently could not be removed) and the repair of that injury did not result in anything like a uniform reduction in area all the way around. Not even close.

Geometry for the win. lol

Reality doesn’t care what we believe. Our pain doesn’t care what we think we understand about our body. Reality is. Pain is. Conditions are what they are regardless of our understanding. So, for years I had struggled with symptoms that made no sense to me – because I so poorly understood my condition – and which I could then not clearly articulate to doctors, who may also not have understood my condition, because (let’s just be real about this, eh) doctors are also human and also have limitations to their own knowledge (and limitations on the amount of time they can spend reading patient histories with the care needed). I understand more/better now, but… I’m still limited by all the things I do not know. I still live within a reality that I perhaps only partially understand because of those limits.

…And reality doesn’t care at all what I understand…

Our perspective and our knowledge limit our understanding – but reality goes on being real, regardless of what we think we know or how we think we understand the world around us.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Living with the pain is pretty much a requirement. There is no option to live without it, at least not now, not really. I do my best. Maybe that reality will change at some point in the future? Technology changes. Medical progress is made. I’ve learned to practice fairly skillful pain management in the meantime. I’m not complaining, not really. Good self-care and skillful pain management may not add up to a “cure for pain” – but it does help.

I sip my coffee thinking about my Traveling Partner, his injury, his surgery, his progress… he’s come so far, so fast, relatively speaking (although I know it doesn’t feel that way to him). We both deal with pain, and I don’t personally see a future where that’s not a thing we deal with, each having our own experience, each doing our best. I feel fortunate to have a better understanding of my injury than I once did. I’m grateful for a conversation at the dining room table about math and circles and ratios and areas, and grateful for a partnership that understands pain and makes room for love anyway. Grateful for love. Things could be worse.

I look out the window. My mind wanders away from the pain I’m in – probably a change for the better. It doesn’t do to dwell on the pain. Don’t get me started about this fucking headache. I sigh quietly and glance at my calendar, and the clock. It’s time to begin again.

Huh. Just for a moment I had the strange sense that I was completely wrong about the day, and that instead of the Monday I was thinking it was, as I sat here in the office, it was – perhaps – only Sunday, and I did not need to be here at all. A quick double-check of the calendar (and then my phone, and then the tiny date/time at the bottom right of my computer screen for good measure) reassured me that indeed it is Monday. I may not be overly enthused about that, on its own, but I am at least not incorrect about what day it is. lol

A perspective on some orange flowers.

The morning has been a slightly odd one. I woke much earlier than necessary, but got up and made coffee and hit the road anyway. I didn’t have quite enough time to return to sleep, and definitely did have time to make a point to remember my packed lunch, and to make myself some good coffee. Even the commute was somewhat strange and definitely not routine in any way aside from the route I took. I hit every traffic light green, and there was almost no traffic at all. I drove the speed limit, feeling unstressed, unbothered, and unhurried (which makes sense since it was quite a bit earlier than I am usually on the road). The office is chilly in a Spring sort of way, and my thoughts linger in my garden, in spite of the darkness beyond the window. Funny thing; the weekend was quite productive, and I seem to recall it feeling “busy”, but… at least for the moment, I don’t really recall anything that stands out as eventful or special. No, I’m wrong – one thing does stand out; my Traveling Partner rebuilt, refreshed, and enhanced our household automation, updating and correcting some out-of-date programming and making upgrades that had been planned before his injury. Quite successful and useful, and delightful to use. There’s that. That stands out. Nothing much that I did comes to mind at all, but damn I’m sore like I did a bunch of stuff. LOL I also didn’t do a bunch of stuff – I was supposedly “taking it easy”, but I don’t feel like I actually managed that trick. Feels like I just did other stuff, instead of the usual stuff.

Same flowers, different point of view.

I rub my eyes, yawn, and sip my coffee. I still don’t feel quite awake yet, which is strange; I’ve been awake now for almost 3 hours. Groggy. Foolish. Mind wandering. Feeling vaguely purposeless and “out of focus” and caught in a sticky web of random thoughts and distractions. My sleep was restless, interrupted, and filled with strange dreams. I may not “need” more coffee…but I’m sure going to have more! lol The morning feels a bit surreal, so far. And chilly. It’s chillier in the office than it has been. As if in response to that observation, I notice the small heater that was left in this office space at some point. I sip my coffee and consider the option to use it, without acting on the thought. I could, though… If I choose to.

A different angle on the same theme.

I sigh to myself, and try to shake off my grogginess by literally trying to shake it off. The sight, reflected back at me in the window makes me laugh. The laughter does more to wake me up than the shaking did. I sip my coffee, now at that “perfect drinking temperature”, and think about my Traveling Partner sleeping at home. I hope he gets the rest he needs – he has a day of work planned (and specific projects in mind) with the Anxious Adventurer’s help. He’s recovered from his injury and surgery to a point that he has begun “picking up where he left off” on all manner of tasks and projects that fell to the side when he got hurt, although he still has a way to go before he will be “at 100%”, maybe a long way to go (there’s quite a lot of work involved in fully recovering from a spinal injury and surgery). I feel relieved and delighted to see him doing so well. I can’t even describe how worried I was at some points, and I don’t like to think about it.

It won’t always be flowers and garden paths; sometimes it’s an uneven path, an uncertain destination, and a distant horizon.

Being a caregiver has been one of the most difficult things I’ve ever undertaken. I give myself about a “C” on that endeavor, if I’m honest. Even with all of my best effort, I lacked experience and skill, and I fucked up a lot (and I was exhausted all the time), and I could have done so much better given time and training and more practice – but that wasn’t how things went down. I did my best. I can say that, and for most values of worth, it was enough – but fucking hell I wish I could have done more/better for longer. Caregiving is fucking exhausting. If you know someone who is a caregiver (or, frankly, a parent), be appreciative, considerate, and kind; that’s a lot of fucking work they’re undertaking to do, on top of trying to live their own life and manage their own self-care, and possibly also working a full time job (especially if they are committed to doing all of it well). Fuuuuck. That’s a lot. Sometimes it can feel like an inhuman amount of effort is required, and it can feel like the stakes are “too high”. Be helpful if you can – and for sure just don’t be an insensitive jerk about the situation, most especially if you’ve never had to provide full time caregiving yourself. It’s a hard mile to walk. I worried the entire time. Worried about the future. Worried about my beloved. Worried that I wasn’t good enough or capable enough – and painfully aware that things could be still worse.

Walking my own path, one step at a time.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s just a routine (mostly) Monday. Things are okay for most values of “okay”, and the day begins well (if a bit groggily). It’s time to get on with that. Another beginning. Another day. Another mile to walk on my path. Time to begin again.

Some thoughts about things to do with being, becoming, and connecting with people (that I’ve mostly learned the hard way):

  • Chronic negativity isn’t “humor”, nor is it a useful way to connect.
  • An uncomfortable forced laugh is less engaging than authenticity, even when that means admitting “I don’t get it”.
  • Constantly complaining about common experiences doesn’t make a person sound cool, edgy, worldly or sophisticated.
  • I haven’t been everywhere. I haven’t done everything. I don’t know all there is to know about every topic of conversation.
  • It’s a safe bet that I have something to learn, and that listening may reveal things I don’t know.
  • A lot of things aren’t about me at all. Some experiences aren’t for me. I won’t be welcome in every space. This isn’t something that needs to be “fixed”.
  • Being annoying results in being alone. A lot. (And not missed even a little bit.) It’s just not fun to be around – definitely behavior to be avoided.
  • Consideration is often overlooked and very underrated, and when practiced consistently and sincerely can seem like a super power.
  • Manners still matter.
  • Intimidation is a “cheat code” in life, and although people around someone who practices intimidation may be willing to exploit that behavior, they don’t like the person who behaves that way, except maybe in spite of it.
  • Good character has lasting value and creates a stable foundation in relationships.
  • Some people are mired in their anger (it has become a practice more than an emotion), taking that personally is neither healthy nor helpful. Being that person is a poor choice with lasting consequences.
  • Hard decisions can slow me down. It’s worth considering other opinions and new options. Ultimately the choices I make are mine, and so are the consequences. It helps to ask questions and reflect on the answers.
  • Learning is a practice. Self-care is a practice. Listening is a practice. Consideration is a practice. Respect is a practice. Authenticity is a practice. It’s all practice. There are verbs involved. Work. Effort. Self-reflection. Commitment. Getting anywhere worth going happens in increments, over time.
  • We can choose change. We can choose to become the human being we most want to be. Ultimately we are responsible for who we are, and who we choose to become.

There are some seriously unpleasant, annoying people in the world. People who lack manners and consideration. People who are unkind, mean, petty, and (or) intimidating (sometimes for personal gain, sometimes purely as a matter of poor character). It’s worth doing my best not to be one of those people, and to do my best every day to be the person I most want to be. I’m not critizing you or telling you how to live, just sharing some of my own thoughts about my own life, things I’ve learned, things I’ve observed over time, things I still struggle with. Doing better today than I did yesterday isn’t easy; it takes work. Honest self-reflection. A willingness to change.

… Trust me, I’m not smug about any of this shit. I’m working my ass off to be the person I most want to be, to learn from my mistakes, and to do better today than I did yesterday – every day.

It was afternoon when I wrote those words. I was in pain. I slacked off some housekeeping in favor of self-care. Choices. Did it help? I don’t know. I got through another day, and held on to enough energy to cook a good meal. It was enough.

The darkness before dawn.

It’s a new day, now. I’m still in pain – I nearly always am. I’m not saying that to complain, and I’m not alone with that experience. Chronic pain is pretty common, actually. Learning to enjoy life in spite of it can be a pretty difficult journey (a lot of the really worthwhile things in life are difficult). My results vary.

I woke this morning already uncomfortable and in an unpleasant mood. No idea why, really. Maybe just dealing with pain has that result, sometimes. I feel cross with myself, with the world, with the seemingly endless list of shit that needs doing. I’m tired of all of it before I even get started…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, as I sit at the trailhead waiting for enough daylight to walk the trail easily. I don’t feel like walking in the dark this morning. I remind myself to let small shit go, and not to take things personally. I take my morning medication and sip my coffee and watch the moon set through the clouds.

When my mind wanders back to things that irritate me, I bring myself back to here, now, this moment. I make a point of practicing gratitude; it’s exceedingly hard for discontent and irritability to compete with gratitude, and I do have much to be grateful for. The internal resistance to letting my mood improve and allowing myself to enjoy a better experience is frustratingly persistent, but I keep at it. We become what we practice. It won’t always be easy to follow this path, but it is a choice available to me, and it’s the choice I make. My results vary, and there are verbs involved, but over time the outcome is predictably good.

Every day is a new beginning. My path is paved with my choices. The journey is the destination – and the clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

There’s no escaping “stupid” – it’s going to catch up with you, and you’re going to be that stupid person, at least now and then (I know this from experience). No exceptions. No escape. Stupid isn’t really about being “unintelligent” or “uneducated” or any particular cognitive difference or difficulty. So… What is “stupid” and why do I see it the way I do?

…I’m no expert on this. There are experts. Bonhoeffer (his text here). Cipolla (summary on Wikipedia here). Others. Read a book. Maybe this one. Or… this one.

Stop assuming you know every-fucking-thing. You just don’t. I 100% promise you that this is true; you do not know everything, about anything. There is too much to know. However smart you think you are, you are less smart than that. (Before you smugly assume I’m talking to that person over there that you think should find this relevant? I’m talking to you. Work on you. Let them work on them. I’ll work on me. If we’re all working on minimizing our own risk of stupidity, we may actually get somewhere.)

…So…

What can save you (or me, or anyone) from stupidity? It’s a good question, and I may have a helpful thought on that, though I hesitate to call it “the answer” (or even “an answer”). Curiosity. Curiosity, observation, and an openness to a “growth mindset” is a good path to avoiding the pitfalls of stupidity. (Assumptions are a shortcut directly to maxing out your stupidity.) There’s an article about that here, from the Harvard Business School. It has a handy graphic in it:

Brain rot is a real enough concern. Hopefully you can avoid making that tragic situation worse by by making an actual effort to think for yourself, asking questions, testing your assumptions, exploring new ideas with real curiosity, and avoiding foolish assumptions that you know more than you do. (The smarter you think you are, the greater the likelihood that you’re a colossal dumbass!)

Seriously. Don’t add to the stupid people in the world – there are already way too many. Sooner or later, stupid will catch up to you now and then, but for fucks’ sake don’t chase it. Pursue a growth mindset. Be a student of life – yes, and even in your own “area of expertise” whatever that may be. I promise you there is always more to learn. Stupid people are supremely annoying to have to deal with. Try not to be one of those.

Why am I writing about this today? Well… because there are a surplus of stupid people doing stupid things, and we’re all very much at risk right now of having front row seats to the decline of civilization as a direct result of stupid people being given actual power. Quite terrifying, really, and I kind of hope that maybe by saying it out loud, someone will think about it with some measure of care and do the needful to reduce their own stupidity, thereby improving humanity’s chance of survival in some small way… (wishful thinking probalby; if you’re stupid you won’t think any of this applies to you, however much it may).

So… are you ready to begin again? Ready to face your next challenge with curiosity, a growth mindset, prepared to learn, and willing to listen? It’s time to take that next step forward… the clock is ticking.

Every sunrise is a chance to begin again.

The clock says 06:14, and I’m sitting at the trailhead waiting for daybreak. Daylight Savings Time began, again, today. I dislike DST fiercely. I don’t think that is unreasonable; twice yearly my timing and my body are given an additional helping of chaos and discomfort for no good reason. The seasons are what they are. DST doesn’t actually change the length of a day. The change to the clocks, though, is legitimately disruptive.

I set my alarm this morning, rather cleverly I thought, for 05:45 – an hour later than usual, so, for the usual time. It’s a Sunday, and I have no need to be up earlier. Figured I’d give myself a break from the chaos and start dealing with it on the other end of the day. The clock said 05:00 when I woke to… a noise? The sound of a voice, puzzled or bewildered? Something. Shit. Okay, I went ahead and dragged myself through my routine, although my body and brain insisted it was only 04:00 and I could have tried to sleep a bit longer. I was awake, for most values of “awake”. (Ah, DST, my old nemesis, you got me again!)

… I don’t actually care that I’m up so early. I often am…

I’ve got plenty of time.

As I drove up the road, I caught a glimpse of the moon half full, low on the horizon and quite huge. Beautiful and strangely golden in hue, I was tempted to pull over and watch her set, but chose to drive on. I regretted my choice almost immediately, it was just that beautiful and rare a sight to see. The morning is peculiarly spooky at the trailhead. There is a clear sky overhead, planets twinkling, shining brightly enough to be visible in spite of the glare of urban lights below, and there’s a dense mist clinging low to the ground here at the edge of the marsh. It’s an interesting effect. Chilly morning. I sit waiting quietly, feeling sort of sleepy, thinking thoughts.

I sit with my thoughts, sipping the coffee I picked up on the way, grateful to have it. Grateful for the quiet moment. Grateful generally, if I’m being honest. I’ve got a list of things to do later, but none of it needs my attention now, and I’m not in much pain today, so far. Win. I meditate. Sip my coffee. Let these quiet minutes tick by gently. I watch the sky begin to lighten ever so slowly as the mist thickens, obscuring other details.

Daybreak comes.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Soon enough, it will be time to begin again.