Is there ever a good time to share my lupus diagnosis with "new" friends? Do they need to know? Am I a burden? Will they be spooked? Am I defective merchandize (so I have been told)? Oughtn't I keep it to myself and not bother? Will they even understand? How savvy are most strangers to autoimmune disorders? How should I react when they look puzzled? Do I have the patience to explain? What do I do with all the "advice and cure" they give? The patronizing? The judging? The superstitions? The "poor thing, you"? Should I tell them that it's unlikely that I will ever die from lupus soon? Just because I haven't?
These are real situations that all of us lupus patients live with everyday. Recently I have somewhat encountered all the above scenarios.
It has not been easy the last three or four months. Three years ago I suffered a serious lupus setback. Chemotherapy was added to my daily RX regimen. Although my blood studies revealed more disease activities, the readings have been consistent. In January I noticed a searing pain in the gut. It comes and goes. By February the pain became very severe and caused violent vomiting. Upon clinical exam I was told that my liver was enlarged. Two weeks later I broke two ribs (9 & 10) in the lower right quadrant from this enlargement. The chemo that I was taking was probably the culprit. So I stopped taking it after discussing with my rheumatologist. So far I have only had two relapses.
Meanwhile, I continue on with my life and all its sundry responsibilities.
I can now answer the questions from the first paragraph--just my own observations and conclusions. There is never a good time to tell new friends I am a chronic sickie. They don't need to know. I am not a burden. Yes, most of them are spooked. In some way, I am defective; but then again, who isn't? I do keep the daily-going-ons to myself. No, most people have not the intelligence nor interest to know about autoimmune diseases unless they have one. If they look puzzled and wanted to know, I will patiently explain. Friends will share with you all kinds of "diet cures" because they care about you. Got to love them for that. In terms of patronizing, judging, superstitions, and the "poor thing, you"--O well, I think I am better off not being close to them. How I will die? I don't know.
Treatment options for me are quite limited. Corticostroids and chemo are no longer viable options. What would I do if the blood studies two months from now reveal more disease activities? I think I will let tomorrow worry itself.
I will just press on.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Saturday, January 24, 2015
PAIN vs PEELS
Accumulation is part of human experience. Looking at my own handiwork is rather daunting. The stuff we own become the owner of us. Unbeknownst to most, the act of collecting and gathering has a rather negative side. As we agglomerate, we also build forts around to guard these possessions. This is all-inclusive. We become more dimensional, more complicated, more evasive, and more multi-layered.
Life is not stories. Life is incidents stringed together. Each happening creates a minute sculpted impression as adornment to our persona and to our souls.
There is nothing more impressive than chronic and unmitigated pain. Maneuvering life with pain requires a clever mind and a steady grip, which, don't always come to me.
Pain is part of peel-building. As society has certain expectations as to how people ought to be, we "hurters" must accommodate to survive.
Each time I reply "I am fine" to the greeting of "How are you?" I just put on another peel.
Social grace is the grandfather of little white lies. In this culture we have yet learned to accept the darkness of the human experience.
Over the last three decades these peels gracefully accompany me. Now I think and I know they must come off as they have become heavy and cumbersome. I have been disoriented by their sheer existence.
Onward and inward.
Life is not stories. Life is incidents stringed together. Each happening creates a minute sculpted impression as adornment to our persona and to our souls.
There is nothing more impressive than chronic and unmitigated pain. Maneuvering life with pain requires a clever mind and a steady grip, which, don't always come to me.
Pain is part of peel-building. As society has certain expectations as to how people ought to be, we "hurters" must accommodate to survive.
Each time I reply "I am fine" to the greeting of "How are you?" I just put on another peel.
Social grace is the grandfather of little white lies. In this culture we have yet learned to accept the darkness of the human experience.
Over the last three decades these peels gracefully accompany me. Now I think and I know they must come off as they have become heavy and cumbersome. I have been disoriented by their sheer existence.
Onward and inward.
Thursday, December 4, 2014
PAIN vs. PALLIATION
Due to omnifarious reasons, mostly inflammatory arthritis from my lupus, my right hand was operated on 4 moths ago. The surgery entailed a joint reconstruction of basal thumb, a trigger finder, a pinched nerve and carpal tunnel repair. There are four incisions. It was not heroism to have my right hand cut. It was of dire functions and survival. And it was brutal--the pain. And I am no slouch.
I was determined to be my own physical therapist, occupational therapist and rehabilitation officer afterwards. With a soft cast covering the right thumb and wrist, I performed on the piano 9 days after surgery, with 9 fingers. It was borderline insanity and stupidity. Yet, through the misery, I am recovering from the savaging knives. Nonetheless, the overall arthritis of the hands, fingers, and other major and minor joints is unrelenting.
Audiences cannot tell the difference in my piano/organ playing. I can. My hands and fingers feel differently: more tightness, tension and less spontaneity.
I have long accepted a life of malady. With it comes the misery of sensory communications of what is wrong--pain. It is my body's way of letting me know something is terribly amiss. I accepted that fate long ago. There is no mercy. Only surrender.
I was once asked about chronic pain. I replied, "I don't remember not having pain, ever."
I liken the protracted monster to a bad car engine. When a car starts swiftly, runs smoothly, accelerates spontaneously and has no hesitations, no one ever thinks about the engine until one hears a noise. Pain is noisy. Yet one often gets accustomed to it helplessly. As for myself, I have been on a physical de-sensitization course for decades.
Once I was caught in a tender moment of vulnerability, I was told that I was crying in my sleep--I had no recollection of that. Obviously my subconscious sighs and grieves for me. My lupus, though does not define me, is my chassis. I accept the challenges, the limitations, the throes, and the knowledge that harsh medicines including chemotherapy will remain my life-long companions. These companions steal my wares whenever they want. I will then have to live without.
A recent reunion with a childhood friend gave me a taste of a better presence. She practices Qigong and acupressure. There was a bit of respite after her offering. I am once afresh to take charge of my pain management as I had almost given up. I have choices: PT, heat, massage, ultra-sound, gentle exercise, reflexology and acupressure.
A paraffin bath will arrive next week for my hands and feet. Massage therapy will be explored. I might even learn Tai Chi.
With fervency, I decided to wage an encore bet with my pain. When offense is not attainable; defense ain't so bad.
The game is on. Hope and strategy--in high gear.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Ceramic Hips and May’s Bucket List In Progress
Today is January 2nd, 2014. My loyal, extremely hard working, and
assiduous second pair hip prostheses for the last 16 years, has spoken in the
most utterly deafening mode. They
have made it crystal clear to me that they want nothing more to do with me. They have clicked, creaked, crackled,
and clamored for my immediate as well as 24/7 attention. At times, the pain, yes, the pain,
calls for my surrender. They want
out. And I want them out!
As I am sitting in the car in the parking lot at Bridal Veil
Falls, Yosemite, I ponder, as well as pontificate on the inevitability of surgery
and subsequent recovery of my third pair of artificial hips. I am surrounded by the magic of this gobsmacking
glacier and stately rock compositions.
Images of enjoying a somewhat pain-free existence: hiking among the
woods on snowy/icing trails (plenty of snow and ice here today) and surveying and
partaking such massive, serene and majestic granite landscape, dance in my
head. All of a sudden, every trail
beckons my humanity. What angst! What longing! It will be a rebirth to raise a step quietly, confidently,
and comfortably again in 2014.
There is hope that my lupus flare might stabilize and the
operation can take place in 2014 or, later, whenever I stabilize. Total hip replacements are brutal—ask
any orthpod. And revisions are
beyond brutal, something more ghastly than gross—both in difficulty for the
surgeon and roughness for the patient.
It is more gory than road kill.
Replacing the femur head/shaft and the acetabulum in hip revisions is Craftsman
Tools time, friends… Details not
need to be shared.
Recovery and rehabilitation will be lengthier, I suspect,
after all, this will be the 4th time my hips will be opened up, hacked
on, invaded upon, replaced and screwed together again. Long racing stripes (scars) will be
reutilized and reopened. Many
medical and technological improvements have been discovered and brought to
practice since my last pair. Many
of them are much kinder and more patient-friendly. I expect ceramic, but I will stay open, as I may not be the
right candidate for ceramic. It
will take 6 months to a year after surgery before I get fully accustomed to and
be comfortable in walking distances again. O how I have missed my walks!
Retreat in nature births renewal of spirit. Magnificent quietude offers laser-sharp
clarity. Contemplation becomes
default rather than deliberation.
The faintest Bucket List crawls into my psyche. I am in awe of the power of my desires.
Where:
1. Mount
Whitney—I must come and climb you again.
A deep sense of remorse and guilt I had felt in hiking you last time,
also my first time. I failed to
respect you. I failed to
train. I failed to have fun. I failed in every aspect. This time, I will train and I will
breathe into the grandeur of your essence. I will treasure each step instead of tread.
2. Australia/New Zealand—It is time. That’s all.
3. Nashville, Tennessee—Soak up the music, May.
4. The Silk Route and then some—Nepal, Bhutan, Xizhuang,
Miramar & more China
5. South Pacific Islands/Southeast Asia—Teach piano, voice, Chinese
and English abroad
What:
1. Start or rejoin
a chamber music ensemble—the “high” from playing and performing a Brahms’ piano
quartet (and other literature like it) is life changing and life lifting. Endorphins flow for days, months and
years. And that’s a good thing!
2. Purge my
wardrobe—I have finally exhausted myself to no end by evaluating the good and
the bad of never out-growing and out-wearing my clothes for the past 40
years. Geez, they all still
fit!! Guess what? I still wear them! Sorry, I need to catch up with clothes
of today. It is not about
fashion. It is about my “habitual”
and “unintentional” dressing. I
must tend to this life detail with more forethought, and possibly, more
passion, more diligence.
3.
Simplify/reduce my “stuff”.
As a dear friend once said to me, “May, we think we own our stuff; but
ultimately it is the stuff that owns us.”
4. Study
Chinese herbal medicine—go back to school, likely.
This list is a living, breathing one. I may not accomplish any in 2014. I will tweak. No Desperation.
No need.
It is a good beginning.
In this very moment, pain does no occupying—just at this
moment.
The difference between hope and anticipation is that anticipation
is active and the former is passive.
Hope is in one’s trusted longing whereas anticipation is in one’s act of
obtaining and discovering.
So, I await. I anticipate.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
BALD vs. BALD--My Blood Curls
Foreword: This blog ought to make you laugh with a tinge of worry, but laugh first, by all means!!
Found all my nice hats from about 20 years ago--first time I balded. I marvel at my wisdom and the care that I have taken to keep them boxed up and clean. O, let's not forget that human hair wig!! Summer comes will I don the piece, of course. Winter is the perfect time to lose 70% of my hair--cold and hats go together.
My lupus is raging in spite of the raise of all disease-modifying RXs. My lab studies read like a death sentence. Let's start with DNA-antibody production: 87???? Really, I must be making antibodies to kill off all my collagen, fingernails are brittle, hair so fine and burnt-looking and has decided to relocate onto my pillows, floor, brush and other surfaces. And this is on the outside, what's happening with the collagen on the inside? Horrid!!
Now, sedimentation rate is in the three digits. Complement 3 & 4 are nearly low enough to touch the floor. White cells--all the break-down of my precious white cell menu--where art thou? Not on my blood cell menu?
OK, enough grumbling. This flare came out of no where, well, technically it came from my own body. Yet I am wracking my brain as to what could have precipitated this wild orgy of my blood cells--without even informing, let alone asking for my permission to carry on like this.
So, is my hair important to me? I guess so. The question is redundant, of course. Yet the more serious issue is "will I overcome this flare to enjoy new hair?" This severe flare leaves me with some cheeky, yet profound and thought-provoking circumstances and questions to ponder.
1. Protein in the urine means kidney involvement. Am I ready to cope with kidney failure? Will my body make it this time?
2. Whacked out potassium, sodium, chloride levels are harming to my heart-am I going to flat-line again?
3. Avascular necrosis in both knees and higher dosages of steroids---now that's a formula for an opportunity to contribute to the orthpod's pocket.
4. Do I continue my life as is or stop doing everything? And what good is that?
5. Will my hair grow back this time?
6. Tired? Why it is my first name on 3 hours a night of sleep--Prednisone at bedtime can do that. Three hours actually is good.
7. Do I have all my affairs in order?
8. I hate the thought of the probability of multi-organ lupus!
9. I am just getting started to live for myself--now I am whining!
10. My body chemistry is not balancing the equation! Darn! I dislike "my" messing up with my own body. So self-love has dipped….and self-acceptance--Hahaha--has left for the Arctic in October!
A typical work day:
I was asked if I am depressed yesterday. I asked back, "What is NOT depressed?" I received no answer. The sense of forlornness and extreme concern and fear surpass depression as most with severe lupus patients would understand. No, I am not going to kill myself on purpose BUT, I can't speak intrinsically for my blood chemistry at the moment. I hope you all see the irony.
Some well-intentioned "shrinks", sorry, did I just write shrinks? I guess I mean shrinks. Some of them analyze that auto-immune diseases is the manifestation that the individual DOES NOT like herself on a subconscious level and that's the reason her body goes hog-wild and destroys her in spite of herself. If you are one of these shrinks, I might seriously consider getting a gun and take good care of you! Others friends and family members suggest that we, somehow, are doing something or not doing something to come to this point. Well, as much as a peace advocate, I WILL use that gun. Those friends who tell me that I look great and wish me to get WELL soon--I WILL shrink you myself. I will never be well in the true sense of wellness. I may be stable, at best. Not to forget the well-intentioned self-proclaimed nutritionists and the know-it-alls, please do not tell me to eat 2 pounds of blueberries/whatever a day or I will live in your house and occupy your personal bathroom facilities, indefinitely. Those who cry--STOP it. I mean it. Suck it up--I do. All them "I worry about you's"--you can zip it up as well. You don't know the meaning of worry, trust me. Ones who avoid me after knowing I am sick. You are good--keep avoiding me until you get shrunk. The contradictors, please go to medical school, after you get in, specialize in rheumatology, finish your residency, see patients and research for about 20 years, then come back and I will have tea and biscuits waiting for you.
The friends who want to help in tangible ways: look into my soul via my eyes--do you see the same person as you have always seen in me? If so, let's have a great time in our dialogue--from weather to religion, to election, to family, to cultures, to philosophies, to faith, to love, to peace, to war, to science, to music, to fashion, to money, to God, to Satan, to evolution, to creationism, to books, to movies, to laundry, to house-keeping, to bargain-hunting, to money-making tips, to money-saving tips, to trip-planning, to gardening, to personal affairs, to tombstone epitaphs, to church, to gossip, to vanity, to shopping online, to shopping off line, to old friends, to Facebook, to Youtubing, to children, to siblings, to relatives, to parents, to fights, to laughter, to everything, and of course, to hair-styles. By being a true friend, you have just lightened the load immensely. Please try to be this kind of friends to all people who suffer alone and often in silence as our world does not validate invisible illnesses.
My blood curls just a bit when I think all the hassle I might wreck upon my immediate family if I were to depart. So for that reason alone, I shall try to be merciful to my husband, my son and my brothers. I will stick around and blog! And you had better read it and respond, as true friends do. Shalom.
P.S. I am certainly preaching to the choir if you have read thus far!!! Hahahaha!
Found all my nice hats from about 20 years ago--first time I balded. I marvel at my wisdom and the care that I have taken to keep them boxed up and clean. O, let's not forget that human hair wig!! Summer comes will I don the piece, of course. Winter is the perfect time to lose 70% of my hair--cold and hats go together.
My lupus is raging in spite of the raise of all disease-modifying RXs. My lab studies read like a death sentence. Let's start with DNA-antibody production: 87???? Really, I must be making antibodies to kill off all my collagen, fingernails are brittle, hair so fine and burnt-looking and has decided to relocate onto my pillows, floor, brush and other surfaces. And this is on the outside, what's happening with the collagen on the inside? Horrid!!
Now, sedimentation rate is in the three digits. Complement 3 & 4 are nearly low enough to touch the floor. White cells--all the break-down of my precious white cell menu--where art thou? Not on my blood cell menu?
OK, enough grumbling. This flare came out of no where, well, technically it came from my own body. Yet I am wracking my brain as to what could have precipitated this wild orgy of my blood cells--without even informing, let alone asking for my permission to carry on like this.
So, is my hair important to me? I guess so. The question is redundant, of course. Yet the more serious issue is "will I overcome this flare to enjoy new hair?" This severe flare leaves me with some cheeky, yet profound and thought-provoking circumstances and questions to ponder.
1. Protein in the urine means kidney involvement. Am I ready to cope with kidney failure? Will my body make it this time?
2. Whacked out potassium, sodium, chloride levels are harming to my heart-am I going to flat-line again?
3. Avascular necrosis in both knees and higher dosages of steroids---now that's a formula for an opportunity to contribute to the orthpod's pocket.
4. Do I continue my life as is or stop doing everything? And what good is that?
5. Will my hair grow back this time?
6. Tired? Why it is my first name on 3 hours a night of sleep--Prednisone at bedtime can do that. Three hours actually is good.
7. Do I have all my affairs in order?
8. I hate the thought of the probability of multi-organ lupus!
9. I am just getting started to live for myself--now I am whining!
10. My body chemistry is not balancing the equation! Darn! I dislike "my" messing up with my own body. So self-love has dipped….and self-acceptance--Hahaha--has left for the Arctic in October!
A typical work day:
- Wake up, get a huge paper towel, starting fingering through my hair. Strands and strands are awaiting to be gleaned and wrapped up in paper towel . Repeat in another hour. Each harvest: about 300-500 hairs.
- My wonderful pharmacy awaits!!
- Shower and dress. Takes twice as long--joints are inflamed and achy all over. Hot water in shower really helps
- Water drinking commends--in large quantity through out the day
- Act like nothing is wrong in front to students, colleagues, choir members, congregation and of course, my Facebook friends.
- Retreat to reading and studying--usually online.
- Eat, may be
- Work on work details via emails and general writing. Music selections and study some more along with practice on piano and voice
- Eat, may be. I never feel hungry anymore.
- Check on Facebook to see how many people read my stuff--90% of the time disappointed because people just post "I am at/I am doing/zillions of game apps/their cats/their dogs/their horses/political rants/memes/memes/memes/and more memes.……
- Night meal with another dance with my pharmacy, this time the dance involves about 50 or so little, swallowable, odd-shaped, tiny objects in different shapes and sizes. They dance all the way to my stomach.
- Sleep, may be
I was asked if I am depressed yesterday. I asked back, "What is NOT depressed?" I received no answer. The sense of forlornness and extreme concern and fear surpass depression as most with severe lupus patients would understand. No, I am not going to kill myself on purpose BUT, I can't speak intrinsically for my blood chemistry at the moment. I hope you all see the irony.
Some well-intentioned "shrinks", sorry, did I just write shrinks? I guess I mean shrinks. Some of them analyze that auto-immune diseases is the manifestation that the individual DOES NOT like herself on a subconscious level and that's the reason her body goes hog-wild and destroys her in spite of herself. If you are one of these shrinks, I might seriously consider getting a gun and take good care of you! Others friends and family members suggest that we, somehow, are doing something or not doing something to come to this point. Well, as much as a peace advocate, I WILL use that gun. Those friends who tell me that I look great and wish me to get WELL soon--I WILL shrink you myself. I will never be well in the true sense of wellness. I may be stable, at best. Not to forget the well-intentioned self-proclaimed nutritionists and the know-it-alls, please do not tell me to eat 2 pounds of blueberries/whatever a day or I will live in your house and occupy your personal bathroom facilities, indefinitely. Those who cry--STOP it. I mean it. Suck it up--I do. All them "I worry about you's"--you can zip it up as well. You don't know the meaning of worry, trust me. Ones who avoid me after knowing I am sick. You are good--keep avoiding me until you get shrunk. The contradictors, please go to medical school, after you get in, specialize in rheumatology, finish your residency, see patients and research for about 20 years, then come back and I will have tea and biscuits waiting for you.
The friends who want to help in tangible ways: look into my soul via my eyes--do you see the same person as you have always seen in me? If so, let's have a great time in our dialogue--from weather to religion, to election, to family, to cultures, to philosophies, to faith, to love, to peace, to war, to science, to music, to fashion, to money, to God, to Satan, to evolution, to creationism, to books, to movies, to laundry, to house-keeping, to bargain-hunting, to money-making tips, to money-saving tips, to trip-planning, to gardening, to personal affairs, to tombstone epitaphs, to church, to gossip, to vanity, to shopping online, to shopping off line, to old friends, to Facebook, to Youtubing, to children, to siblings, to relatives, to parents, to fights, to laughter, to everything, and of course, to hair-styles. By being a true friend, you have just lightened the load immensely. Please try to be this kind of friends to all people who suffer alone and often in silence as our world does not validate invisible illnesses.
My blood curls just a bit when I think all the hassle I might wreck upon my immediate family if I were to depart. So for that reason alone, I shall try to be merciful to my husband, my son and my brothers. I will stick around and blog! And you had better read it and respond, as true friends do. Shalom.
P.S. I am certainly preaching to the choir if you have read thus far!!! Hahahaha!
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
MUSIC vs. PAIN
I have turned a corner on this lupus flare--thanks to Prednisone--plenty of it. My hands are still on fire and fingers feel like sizzling sausages. This flare involves alopecia. I have lost about 30-40% of my hair. Thank goodness I had plenty to start. The fever decided to leave and fatigue has self-invited. This has been a wake-up call. I auto-pilotted lupus in my life for over 25 years. Almost 10 major surgeries, hundreds and thousands of $ of modern pharmaceuticals have sustained me. MRIs, X-rays and biopsies of all sorts have invaded my rather salvaged physical body.
MUSIC, it has been music all along, that has me alive, upright and dignified. It seems so obvious to my family, colleagues, friends and students that May Tucker means MUSIC and vice versa!! Yet I just recently realized in the utmost, deepest part of my being that MUSIC is not only my profession and identity. MUSIC is the anchor of my soul. I even surprised myself. Years and years of fermenting the beauty and techniques in piano, voice, conducting and organ is only the surface. The packaging.
In light of sounding marsh, one of my favorite sayings is, "There IS a song for everything!". Let me tell you about my songs and how they are imprinted in my soul (humming inside my head silently):
1. "Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee" 1-2 verses---every 8 weeks when I go in for lab--about 8 big vials of blood is drawn
2. "Twelve Days of Christmas" and "Do Re Mi"---Hip MRIs (8x), knee (5x) every other one
3. "Fur Else"---Head MRIs (5-7x), the entire song. There are 5 different segments in head MRIs
4. "Happy Birthday to You" (1x)---per each articular injection (finger joints)
5. "世上只有媽媽好"-"In the World only Mother is the Best" (1x in Mandarin)---getting myself out of bed, also one of Preston's lullabies
6. "Gial Sole Dal Gange" 1 verse---getting to the shower
7. "Tchaikovsky Concerto in B Flat" first 3 pages---knee injections
8. "Chopin Piano Etude in E Major" and "Brandenburg Concerto-Spring" (yes I can sing the entire Spring)---driving to UC Davis Cancer Center
9. "Maiden's Prayer"---walking into and waiting to see my hematologist in the Cancer Center
10. "O We Ain't Got a Barrel of Money"---chest X-rays
11. "How Great Thou Art" (3 verses)---needle tests in buttocks and legs
12. "Abide with Thee" (3 verses)---visual field tests
13. "There Must Have Been Something Good"---waiting to be injected with whatever
14. "You Are My Sunshine" (x's as needed)---start a IV line
15. "Beethoven Apathetigue 2nd Mov't"---epidual injections, kidney biopsy and bone marrow biopsy
16. "When I Fall in Love"---first song I sang to Preston--he was 5 seconds old
17. "I Gave My Love a Cherry"---time of silence when told I need another surgery and another one of Preston's lullabies
18. "Scarborough Fair" (5-6x)---pulmonary capacity tests
19. "Pachelbel Canon in D" (however long)---being wheeled into surgery and awaiting unconciousness
20. "有隻雀仔跌落水“－”Has a Bird Fallen in the Water" (1x in Cantonese) to the tune of "London Bridge" ---Silence for being told another lupus complication like alopecia as occured
Most of these are light-hearted and cheerful tunes with no significance in the text. Some have no text. Considering the circumstances in which I am humming them is a logical approach. I can offer no rhyme or reason for these tunes--combusting spontaniety. MUSIC has penetrated to the core of me. Often when a friend is tellling me something my brain has a ready song to reply. This mechanism is magical. It is self-hipnosis, self-redirection, and coping with pain without being destroyed in the process.
Not all the songs are springy and I assure you there will be more selections. There is an unfathomable depth of sorrow when pain is a constant companion. So deep in the physique and plunged in the essence of a being. Intractable pain, unrelenting pain, interminable pain, punctuating pain, excruciating machete pain, straining pain, deranging pain, maniacal pain, dull but bony pain, pulsating lymph node pain, pyrexic pain/chill, clutching pain, burning pain, moving pain, freezing pain, hovering pain (hands), nauceous pain, writhing pain, articular pain, soft-tissue on fire, revetting eye pain, crapulous pain, wretching abdomenal pain, vascular headache pain, mysterious refered pain, trancient spastic pain, itsy-bitsy toe pain, post-surgical pain, wanting-to-die-now pain and their constancy and companionshp can test and sober one's mustard. I wish I were the crying type. So I "Klingon" every hope that "This All Shall Pass" will ring and sing true for me, soon, someday, before I expire, and expire I with it.
MUSIC has this cherubimish yet virginal capacity to help me cope. MUSIC is the balm. The worse the pain the sillier the songs I hum.
Now, always have a song in your heart!
My cream-colored Yamaha antique wind-up metronome from Hong Kong sitting prominently on my very FINE grand piano. My parents and husband's gift to me when I turned 30!!!
Monday, November 26, 2012
Pain is Ephemeral……As it should
Pain is ephemeral….. as it should
by May Tucker on Monday, November 26, 2012 at 12:59pm ·
This note is to remind myself and many of Facbook friends, associates and family that pain is ephemeral. It should NEVER:
This note is to remind myself and many of Facbook friends, associates and family that pain is ephemeral. It should NEVER:
1. Dictate life
2. Destroy self-esteem
3. Errode faith
4. Derail hope
5. Disintergrate friendships
6. Defect reputations
7. Delay successes
8. Dessicrate humanity
9. Deaden love
10. Dash away tranquility
11. Daunt confidence
12. Defile beauty
13. Deduce self-worth
14. Degrade morale
15. Deface the essence of self
16. Defunct utility
17. Demean dignity
18. Delude minds
19. Deprave humanity
20. Decry justice
21. Derogate laughter
22. Devastate the soul
23. Deteriorate the body
24. Detain goodness
25. Diffuse joy
26. Dilute excitement
27. Dent pleasures
28. Discard purity
29. Displace eternity
30. Dispel goodness
And the grandest of all: Pain does not direct our lives.
WE DO!
May's first orchids!! 2012
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