Some time last night I realized that I was swearing a lot. This is not a form of expression that I want to develop in myself, so I committed to reducing and possibly eliminating this behaviour! Today, in the space of 7 hours I have sworn twice. That’s a great deal better than yesterday.
I really don’t like myself right now – or at least I don’t like myself when I am at home and especially when I am lying around in bed. Of course, I have managed to be productive. In fact, I’m probably a bit more productive than is good for me at this time. What I don’t like is the restlessness, the boredom and the anxiety about the level of pain that I am experiencing. The boredom is more anticipatory than anything. I am imagining that if life continues in this way I will be bored, and therefore right now I am getting anxious about it.
In fact, there is nothing actually boring about life right now at all. The continuous search for comfort and the daily shocks when pain shows up in familiar - or worse yet - new places is a form of fascination. In fact, I think it’s this seduction to be fascinated by my own comfort/discomfort that frightens and annoys me the most. I have seen other people become focused only on their pain and their limitations. I don’t want to become like that and yet I see that path opening up. This is the reason I’m swearing a lot. It is kind of like being trapped in a net and trying to chew one’s way out!
Beyond this, my life is quite interesting. My personal assistants are either very engaging, or occasionally annoying as hell and rarely in between. When they are annoying, I have a whole other subtext of talking to myself in attempts to either shift the annoyance or try not to make the situation worse by barking back. Very much like when I am in physical pain, when I am annoyed at someone I have a whole book of self-referential conversations that are time consuming and not very effective.
Beyond this, my room especially is full of mementos of my life. My very act of mind is constantly reminded of someone, somewhere, something. As I have written about before I believe that this activity of remembering, consolidating and sometimes simply noticing is part of the gift of getting older. What would the richness of life be if no one ever had the time and space to appreciate it?
So in reality, even if I were to spend the rest of my life in bed, I am sure that I could find a way to never be bored. It is the other stuff that makes being in bed problematic. First of all, it’s more difficult to stay healthy in this position. But more importantly than that, life - and especially people - is a continuous invitation to get up, get out and go play.
I can truthfully say that I am frustrated, sad and frightened. I am not ready to live as if I were like Nelson Mandela. Although my cell is much more inviting than his ever could have been, I am unwilling to stay in it.
But then, he must have been unwilling as well, at least at the beginning. I really must see the movie about his 27 years in prison. More than this, it is my own body which is limiting me to my bed.
My experience of the last week is that if I sit up for more than 20 minutes I will be in pain and if I sit up for more than 2 hours the pain becomes nearly unbearable and if I sit up for more than 5 hours I will still be in pain even when I’m in bed the next day. This is my reality.
Of course, when I have been up, I have been up for more than 5 hours on most occasions. Once up, there is so much I want to do that no amount of comprehension of the consequences has been able to get me back in bed quickly enough – well, most of the time anyways. Perhaps I will learn.
But really, I would rather find a way to get out of this pain.
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