September 8, 2006

• Remind Me

  Sometimes I need to be reminded of the advantages and comforts I have
  in this life, especially at times such as these when my physical
  abilities are impaired and I’m faced with tough decisions.  This
  M.E. exacerbation has been dragging on and on, and I’ve had colds and
  various infections making this a summer of discomfort and
  inactivity.  That tends to get me down, and this time it’s not all
  I have to brood on.

  My car’s clutch cable broke, and as I was paying for having that
  repaired I learned that the throw-out bearing is on its way out. 
  Greyfox and I have been discussing the pros and cons of getting my old
  junker repaired versus buying a different and newer junker.  Any
  car that’s worth what I could afford to pay for it wouldn’t be worth
  much.  My most optimistic hope there would be to find someone down
  on his luck and willing to sell a good vehicle for less than it’s
  worth, or someone who has made a pessimistic judgment on some minor
  mechanical problem and decided to dump a basically sound vehicle.

  On the other hand, even if the transmission repair my car needs isn’t
  too expensive, the car itself isn’t really worth sinking much money
  into at this stage.  The latch on the hatch is broken.  One
  back door doesn’t open at all and the other back door sticks so that
  only someone who knows the “combination” can open it, and then only in
  favorable weather conditions.  That means that Greyfox can’t open
  it at all, Doug can open it sometimes, and I can usually get it open
  from May through November.

  The return spring on the ignition switch is broken, so I have to gently
  turn it back to disengage the starter after it starts, and have to
  remember to leave a note to that effect on the steering wheel whenever
  someone else is going to be starting the car.  The body is rusted
  out in many places, weather stripping hangs loose in many places where
  it’s not missing altogether.  The dipstick Greyfox got to replace
  the one that was thrown out when a belt broke isn’t quite the same
  length as the old one, so I have to make mental adjustments when I
  check the oil.  There’s more, but why dwell on it?  Greyfox
  and I have already been doing that ad nauseam.  The question
  remains undecided.

  Then there is the matter of my upcoming birthday.  Unconsciously
  (if I don’t consciously transcend the tendency), as my birthday
  approaches I tense up and start expecting disaster.  “Disaster,”
  or unfavorable aspects of the stars, is an apt word since each solar
  return brings a mixed bag of strong aspects to my heavily aspected
  natal sun.  But astrology aside, birthdays have tended to be rough
  for me most years.  It’s not the idea of time passing, of
  aging.  That’s a triumph to me, a marker of survival in a life
  that has already far exceeded anyone’s early expectations for me. 
  It’s the legacy of hard experience, a case of PTSD with seasonal
  associations.  Both times in my life when I was raped, it was on a
  birthday.  There were other traumatic birthday experiences, too,
  but that’s not the point.

  The point is that that was then and this is now.  This year, I had
  hatched a scheme to give myself a somewhat extravagant birthday treat,
  a couple of nights in a motel where I could take some hot epsom salts
  soaks and enjoy the luxuries of running water and maid service.  I
  was going to go to Wasilla on a Wednesday and take some pics of Greyfox
  at the Farmer’s Market (as he requested), stay over that night and
  catch the Thursday NA meeting between bubble baths, then spend another
  night of luxury before shopping for groceries and heading home all
  rested.  This is in contrast to my usual town trips where I take
  pics, go to meetings, relate with Greyfox, shop and drive home
  exhausted the same night.

  Now, with the automotive dilemma, I’m questioning the feasibility of
  the birthday luxury plan.  It would have had to go on a credit
  card anyway, what with this summer’s wet weather and reduced
  income.  I’m not questioning whether I deserve a couple of days
  and nights of comfort and luxury (relatively speaking).  I’m not
  worried that the family will go cold or hungry because of the
  extravagance.  It’s just that it does seem such an extravagance,
  and I’m questioning whether it’s worth the benefit I’d get out of it.

  I was dragging my body around here this morning, watering houseplants,
  running my twin dilemmas through my mind and feeling low, with the
  radio on in the background.  In close succession there were
  stories that involved people with much worse and more immediate cases
  of PTSD than mine, with much more severe illnesses and more desperate
  material and economic situations, reminding me that despite my dilemmas
  and my handicaps, life is good.  I’ll figure it out and I’ll
  muddle through.

  

  • 1:44 pm
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