I started a new medication today. Actually I started two, but they are unrelated except in an oblique way. The first is meant to stabilize my digestive system which has been on the fritz for years now, since 1993 in fact and the other is to tackle an excema which has attacked my ears, which may or may not be related to an excema which has attacked my face, for which I began a new course of medication on Saturday. I'm also due to start another regimen of medication in two weeks time, which will bring my total to no less than nine doses of five seperate medicines per day.
It seems, excessive, but the alternative is a lot of annoyance and the idea that had I been born in an earlier time I'd have died of a wasting illness by now (though none of my afflictions is considered anything like terminal) helps me get through it all. And then there's my trips to the hospital of course. There's nothing like the sight of a young child in a wheel chair with a bald head to put one's life in perspective. I saw such a poor little kid last Wednesday in the car park as I unlocked my mountain bike and I had to crouch down and let it all out. And people actually believe in God!
Its good to be dealing with all these problems though I still have one to go. The recuring pain I've had in my body, just above my left testicle is still there and I'm still waiting to hear from a specialist on that one. I think the old sod has forgotten me... again. In the mean time, the pain comes and goes. A blood test reassurred me it was not a cancer, but I remain in ignorance as to the cause. Yeah, the good times just never end in Århus!
My hope is, by summer I'll be mobile again. I can't wait to swim in the sea with the Snoos. Mette and her parents are going to London in a few weeks time, and of course they're taking Freja. Once agan I'll be left behind thanks to my fucked up intestine. Five days or so all alone whilst life passes by. Some times I wish I did believe in God because then I could beg for mercy. As an agnostic there is nothing to cling to but medical science...
Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
9 comments:
sorry to hear about the hralth problems moif. Plenty of creams to rub in and pills to pop. I've a good friend who's been diagnosed with Parkinsons and he had it in check for a while - until the new year. Two heart attacks within two days were caused by the disease suddenly taking a more aggressive and progressive turn affecting both sides of his body.
The worst part for him is that he can no longer paint toy soldiers and has had to ask his friends to help out. difficult for a proud man and able painter.
well I am non-religious too but I still pray. Just wait moif until your kid becomes old enough to ask you what you think of god and praying and you will have to answer knowing what you say will have major influence on another human being.
Hope you fell better :)
Bucket.
My medical problems have always been compounded by my poor luck in finding doctors I am able to communicate with. For the last many years I've been subject to the attentions of the head of dept at Århus University hospital, a man with all the charm and 'bed side manner' of a reptile.
Fortunately I was pointed towards another doctor, in the same dept, but with a far more humane approach and it was this doc who last week put me on the new medications. The irony is the first of these medications is over the counter, meaning I didn't even need a prescription for it yet it took our amazing national health servive four months to getting around to giving me the appointment with this new doc which led me to taking this medication.
Ah well.
After I'd written the 'Age' post, I went over to AD and added a post there to the 'Hell is for Little Children' thread. Lesly thinks I ought to add that post to my blog, but frankly its too depressing to put on the main page, so I shall copy it into the comments here instead....
How do you avoid becoming numb to the acts of brutality and cruelty directed against children?
Do I have a choice?
Last wednesday I was at the hospital and as I was getting ready to leave, unlocking my mountain bike in the car park, a family passed me by, Mom, Dad, a daughter and a pale, bald child in a wheel chair. I had just enough strength to wait until they were out of sight before I crouched down and cried. It didn't last long. Just long enough for me to gather my wits and carry on my way.
Years ago, I was lying in a hospital bed in the orthopedic ward, in greater pain than I'd ever imagined. It was night time and the morphine was wearing off, but what kept me awake was the screaming of the deformed five year old in the next room. A few days later I hobbled past the open door and saw the childs mother's face. I can still see her if I want to because I'll probably never forget that face.
So, now here is a case where a man has beaten a child and thrown her into the snow to die. I wonder at life's pointless brutality and I can't reconcile myself to it. I saw a nature programme once where a pack of African wild dogs tore an antelope to pieces. They ripped its guts from it and ate them even as the antelope wss still struggling to get away. The dogs had their muzzles inside the antelope, disemboelling it even as it was still trying to run away. I felt nothing beyond fascination until its bladder was torn open and a small cascade of urine erupted into the air. Then I realised. That urine was familiar, physically. I was the same as those animals, the antelope and the dogs.
Because thats us, we're also animated meat that passes urine. We occupy the same life, the same reality. We see, speak, think and feel. Essentially the two year old child who dies alone in the snow is no different from the antelope. I know one can argue that the father and the dogs were just following base instincts but it doesn't make me feel any different about it all. The implacable horror of it does not differentiate between African wild dogs and abusive human beings. For all our vaunted souls, there is no dividing line. Life is evil and so, apparently, are we. I could rave at God if I had 'faith', but I don't. I have nothing to cling to, no way to explain why life is so horrible to some and not to others.
For most of my life, I've had unusual dreams. Dreams which by my understanding are 'psychotic'. I've never understood these dreams, or had any influence over them, but many times I've dreamt of murder and not just simple murder, but the sort of red armed blood fest that one normally associates with African wild dogs. I have always supposed that these dreams are some how connected to a deeply buried primordial instinct, but since I've never know for sure, I've often wondered if my mind has always been a bit 'unhinged'.
I've also had my share of pain in life, but essentially I've survived intact. Now I can see my daughter blossoming into life and I know the many horrors that await her and I am essentially powerless to keep her safe. Every day she lives now is one day closer to her eventual death and I can only hope that I do not live to see it. I know she must die, as must we all, it may be today, or it may be in a hundred and ten years time. I can't know, so I must live with the uncertainty. I don't even know what I'd do if some one hurt her. Would I react like a rational human being or would those dreams come to pass? What if she develops cancer and I'm the man wheeling a bald child into the hospital?
Being 'numb' is not something I've never been able to do, and although my sanguine nature is dulled with age, my empathy for broken children seems so overwhelming that I cannot even understand it. I see millions of African children starving to death and dying of AIDS, Malaria, war and it reminds me of the Holocaust or when my Dad poured boiling water into an ant nest that had gotten in his way. Life is either a sick joke or it has no purpose what so ever and every good day is a treasure to enjoy whilst it lasts. I don't understand what morality is or why we bother with it since it only seems to serve to make us weak.
I meant feel, I don't want you to fall anywhere.
I hate stories like the ones in "hell is for children" thread
I have to admit I usually avoid placing myself in positions where I have to consider such things happening to kids.
I very nearly didn't post there, but I couldn't help myself. I have a big 'mouth'...
Glad to hear that you're treating your ailings, but naturally sorry to hear that you have so many. However, if you have found a doctor to replace the reptile, perhaps you can sort things (i.e. get better/well!) with the new one.
As for the 5 days you will remain in Århus while Mette and Freja comes to London - we wish you could come too! I hope we'll see you over here one time.
MLJ.
If today is any indication, I may be set for a good summer. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but the feeling of optimism is too rare to not enjoy it whilst it lasts
=)
That's some sad stuff, man.
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