Posts tagged ‘chronic pain’
Some easy tricks with Windows that only started with the neat Program List.
That–the writing part, that is–is what I’ve been doing. Not e-mail, which I increasingly regard with dubiety (since it’s impersonal almost without exception) nor cruising the net. My cat is even feeling neglected.
One part of writing is that soldier (or whatever participant and in whatever War) who is lost within it–confused within that very common problem we orphans have of finding any sort of identity. Note I didn’t say “combined” nor did I mean to do so.
I’m also working toward publishing poetry for the first time in forty years. It’s daunting to start.
I’m also considering if I should try for college especially since given the statistics I shouldn’t hope for a whole lot longer. However, the company would be nice and would distract me nicely me from the constant pain.
The painkillers will never increase in this country. I bet I can’t leave this country unless I divorce my wife or she’s dead. She has finally said differently, but it would be very hard for her. Going to Canada would also mean leaving my cat in one way or another I’m rather sure. Since she’s crushed if I go for too long a drive, it would mean putting her to sleep. 14 years is a long time for a pet, and I think she’s earned her place.
As far as the pain goes, well, it’s more than I can stand. Now think about that, and my alternatives.
Wish me luck.
as in memento mori sort of thing. My pain is subsiding to the merely unbearable and I’m beginning to write “offline” [back to the short story become novel] again as well as feeling a poem or thirty coming.
About poetry. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t actually written any number of poems recently. I have a photographic memory with that complete exception. The exception even goes so far as to without doubt recognize my own handwriting and being unable to remember ever having written a poem, although generally I think I do remember it.
The problem is that for me a poem is an event of consciousness which is then recorded in a sort of shorthand. The short hand is not the event itself, or even a record of the event, but rather of the realization involved; it is a statement rather than a record. It is a note, not a recapitulation or a portrait. The attempt to preserve beauty is in respects incidental.
This means that in respects calling my poetry free verse or even for that matter poetry could be also called error. However, no current language offers any equivalent mechanism for performing that function. It’s also true that as far as I can tell it has rarely served said intended function–but then occasionally it has. One cannot enlighten another, because one cannot look through another’s eyes and then present the vision to her or him. The looking must be theirs, both effort and reward.
There is only one thing to do; keep on going.
If you are a child, teenager or young adult I am working on an exercise program that will help avoid some of the worst problems ahead.
If you are diagnosed with it wear boots or ankle supports; preferably boots. Do some sort of exercise to strengthen your wrists which is hard enough to be painful; you’ll need to do the same thing for your ankles and major joints. Avoid placing transverse pressures on your back or carrying overly heavy loads. If you run you MUST RUN ON YOUR TOES not your heels or you will instantly begin heavily damaging the cartilage between the vertebrae in your back.
One other thing–no, two. Good luck. And guess how I feel today.
I’ll be working for a bit, bad back and all (chronic pain and all). harryanddavid.com is a legitimate business…and guess what: I’m back there. I do have news piling up and no energy to manage, although I may do better next week, with back to five hour days rather than 8, and maximizing at 3 days.
Pain at times does its thing. Fortunately, I can still fight it.
but pain is simply taking its toll. A lady who can hardly speak English (married to a man, same) had put her carseat into the garbage. Rose, my wife, was going to carry it a block to the dumpster. Notionally (it was about 60 pounds, about my one-hand weight limit for carrying right now for relatively short distances). I carried it, and am suffering considerable consequences.
However, there should be a remark just following this entry…
When you can’t make the next step, and know you can’t–just make it.