Where have the days gone when I had the strength to do what I wanted? When I committed to something, I did it. When I made a promise, I kept it.
These days, age and the cruel twist of physical debility have turned me into a feeble, frail man, who is long on desire and short on ability. I make many promises and keep so few.
My list of half-done projects continues to grow and thoughts of new projects only frustrate and depress me.
It is tempting to just give in but I know giving in means giving up and giving up is the short route to the grave.
So I try to make myself get up and do every day. Some days, getting up isn’t hard to do because I never went to sleep.
Every inch of my body hurts. Sometimes I wonder if people really understand how this is for me. No matter how many narcotics, NSAIDS, muscle relaxers or anti-spasmodics I take, the pain is still ever present. The only thing worse? The pain without these drugs.
The pain, fatigue, and weakness zap my mental strength. I continue to cancel magazine subscriptions, yet my pile of unread magazines continues to grow. Gone is the ability to read a number of books every week. As it stands now, it would take me two years to read the books I have bought this year. I delude myself into thinking… I WILL read these books, but I know…
The weeds have taken over the garden and I haven’t been in the garage/workshop/shed in a month. Who knows what disastrous mess my family of clutterers have turned my space into. Oh well…
I can’t expect my wife and children to continue to do the things I used to do. They don’t want to and they lack the same passion I had for these things. Their desires and loves are different from mine. This is not a criticism of them as much as it is a realization that we each have different things that matter to us. It is just how it is.
The dog loves me but she always wants something in return. She wants me to stroke her head or call her up to my lag but on many days it is just too painful to do these things. The cats? They don’t care about me at all. Pain or not they jump on my lap demanding attention. I try…but most often I wish they would just leave me alone.
It is impossible to plan ahead. I do it but I often have to cancel or change my plans. I never know what may come on any given day. I want my kids and grandkids to come over. I want to go to eat with my friends. I want to go out on a date with my wife. I want to go here, do this, attend that. Most days, my spirit is willing but my flesh is weak.
I am embarrassed when I promise but don’t keep. I am embarrassed when I have to cancel the day of. It is either this or not make any promises or plans at all. Maybe that is where I am in life…living in the moment. I am not that kind of person. I am a planner…I have all the bills entered in Quicken two months in advance. Spur of the moment does not come easy for me.
I owe people letters. I owe people guest blog posts. I owe, I owe, I owe. They tell me they understand but I wonder if they do. The work-a-holic still lurks deep within me but my physical body refuses to cooperate. Mind over matter? Not a chance.
I am at the place in life where people will just have to take me as I am. If I let them down, disappointed them, didn’t do what they wanted…I am sorry…but what would they have me do differently? When I go to the ballgame, the races, the restaurant, the party that it takes all my strength to do these things. Maybe they do understand and they are at a loss…they don’t like what they see…they know that life is slowly slipping away from me. They love me, I know it, and I love them.
Life has become an endurance test, getting through today so I can do it all over again tomorrow. It is hard to find meaning and purpose in this but I do. That is, until I don’t.
So sorry for the pain you endure Bruce. Wishing you more good days than bad. Sending you love.
Thanks, Sylvia.
It’s interesting, Bruce, you know, for years I thought that becoming an “atheist” would cause me to lose all of my meaningful bearings. But now I don’t think that’s at all true, a sentiment I write here from time to time, on your blog, the only blog I have time to read. The world is truly what WE make it, and every surgeon is worth a million pew peons, every entomologist worth 100 Bible college exegetical warriors. You have a rhetorical gift of perspicacity, and we your readers just love to hear what you have to say, both for your own opinions and for how it makes us consider and reconsider our own. I guess all of those years as a preacher taught you how to separate wheat from chaff! Long ago, as a university teacher, I realized that if I affect only two students over my entire professional life, I’ve doubled my goodwill in the world. But who knows how many people you’ve qualitatively affected through your writings?! So tough as it is for you, it does REALLY good things. You are an intellectual Diogenes, and your message needs to be heard. Thank you SO much for sharing your life with us under the difficult circumstances that you do. I will really miss you on that day when you can no longer write, like a long lost friend. Thank you SO much for your perseverance.
Thanks, Rand. You are so right about life being what we make it. For me, I ask myself, what things can I change to make life better for myself and those I love. Most of the physical problems I have are beyond my control. I do have some control over what I eat and what exercise I get so I try to focus on these two things. Of course, when my pain levels are quite high I don’t want to eat right (nothing like carbs to make me feel better, and I don’t or can’t exercise. It is very easy for me to “give in” at times but I know I must continue to fight. Since death offers only a cessation of life, I want to live as long as I can and that means trying to do all I can to take care of myself.
Reading your heartfelt thoughts today reminds me of the phrase, those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. Your family and friends love you for you and I would assume that they accept the fact that you have physcial limitations. True, they may not understand but in the end, what matters is the love of family and friends. Peace be with you and hopfully many pain free days ahead for you Bruce.
For the most part my family understands where I am in life. I wish we would or could talk about it more but, for the most part, my declining health is just a part of family life, rarely discussed unless I bring it up. I know it is not easy for them. They can’t know how it is for me because they haven’t experienced it so all they can do is try to be a help and support me. I have a great family, daughter-in-laws included. Life would be insufferable without them.
Bruce – I don’t have the Words to console what you are going through. However, as selfish as it may sound, you have consoled me considerably with your Words, thoughts, humor, and intelligence. Every morning I race to Bruce Gerencser’s blog page to read the prolific, uplifting, and validating Words that he shares with whomever will partake. Your Blog was the cherry on my ice cream sundae that finally permitted me to come to terms with my experiences from my church-driven life that led to Neurosis-orama in other parts of my life. So in the midst of your physical pain & suffering, I can selfishly say that you are instrumental in relief of my psychological pain & suffering. And I have grown to have a “cyberspace kind of love” for you and your Family. Tend to your needs and rest your mind.
Thanks, Michele.
I greatly appreciate your honesty and courage. There is something I learn every time I come here, and something that encourages and edifies. I can’t fully empathize with that sort of pain, but it is very moving to see you continue to help others with your words.
I’m reminded of Stephen Hawking in some ways. He has written that he was lucky to have a job that required the use of his mind– which was the only thing not affected by his disease. As for you, you continue to use your skill with words to help others and improve the human condition. You are making a difference.
Thanks, Obiron.
This comment probably will sound like it’s coming from a Drill Sergeant, but…
As we age, life is about accepting what is and your “what is” (not unlike mine) is not what it once was! I sympathize with the fact that it’s difficult to see oneself in the light of being a different person, but you are not who you use to be…in more ways than one. It seems to me that your problem is that you continue to fight the here and now with your reminisces of the there and then. By this, you end up tormenting yourself.
Let go of the Bruce of old and embrace the Bruce of now. The Bruce of now has far more limitations than the previous incarnations. The Bruce of now can accomplish small goals SOME of the time. The Bruce of now will have many days in which the act of living is about the only goal that will be accomplished. Most importantly, if you find it more and more difficult to keep promises, then quit making them! By making them and then breaking them, all you are doing is providing yourself with the ammo for self-imposed misery.
I agree with everything you say here. The theory I understand. It is the implementation that is the problem.
I find it difficult to turn off the old Bruce, the past. All I can do is continue to work on it.
Like you Bruce, in theory I get it, in practice . . . not so much.
Yes sir!
Sorry, couldn’t help it. I like this comment. Lots of good stuff in it . . . and truth. Sometimes we need a little help from Drill Sergeants err, I mean friends.
So sorry you are feeling this way. I hope maybe you are just feeling worse than usual as the aftermath of your last little vacation, when you may have become over tired, and may soon have a better period for a few days. It is undoubtedly hard on a man to become permanently ill and have to be assisted. I can tell it embarrasses my husband to have to have his meat cut or have help with his seat belt, more so if anyone else is around. I have to do most of the driving now, and I have noticed this strange new quirk of his. When we are returning to the car, even though I am holding my keys in my hand, he insists on getting out his own key, unlocking his door and getting in by himself. He seems to think it doesn’t “look right” for me to unlock his door and hold it open. A pure case of male pride!
Yeah the trip has a lot to do with it. I tend to push too hard. As Michael Mock said awhile back, I am a run til I crash and burn kind of person. As much as I try to do otherwise, it is just how I am.
Ah yes, Male pride. Polly has had to deal with my male pride more than once. I am still very aware of how I am perceived by others. So, when others are around, I put the groceries in the car, etc. It is better id she does BUT I don’t want to viewed as less of a man. I really should use a motorized cart in the store but I can’t bring myself to do it. It embarrasses me and I know it is my pride. But…sometimes that is all we have left.
I have thought about shopping later at night when there are less people…maybe this will help me get used to it.
The mental wound of not being able to be the “man” of the house, the breadwinner, etc is difficult to deal with. Polly is wonderful and she is not a problem with this stuff. This is my problem and I have to come to terms with how life is rather than how I want life to be.
I’m sorry, Bruce. Wish we could relieve your pain.
I am sorry to hear how you’re feeling, but I admire you for how you’re
putting it out there. You’re honest without being moany.
I can understand how you feel to a certain extent. Like you, I’m a very
proud person and I want to be able to do everything sighted people do. I
often feel like I have to over compensate for being blind by being
superwoman in every way. Always have a squeeky clean house, do my own
shopping, always use public transport and often declining help from others
when it would be welcome because I don’t want them to think I can’t do
something myself. It’s stupid really, because I’m often more exhausted than
I need to be. Not physically, but mentally. Also, if I fail to always keep
up a perfect appearance, I just want to scream and cry. I know sighted
people are not superbeings just because they can see, but it feels like that
at times.
But I’m so glad I came across your blog. Whatever you write, and I have to
check every day, I find inspiring in so many different ways.
I don’t have anything to add that hasn’t been said,( and with better words) by everyone else.
I do appreciate your blog and your ability to articulate many of the half formed thoughts and ideas about God that have been swirling around in my head for many years.
One thought regarding what people think and your wish to appear more manly to others, for lack of a better word… not wanting to use the motorized cart etc.
It’s a far larger act of courage to stand up in the middle of the bible belt and say “I DO NOT BELIEVE IN GOD!” than it is to use a cart or let your wife load the groceries in the car.
If you’re strong enough to stand up to the hue and cry surrounding your heresy, surely you’re strong enough to appear a little weak?
I am pissed that there isn’t some medication that can really help you…well, not without leaving you in some sort of coma or something. I know someone with fibromyalgia and it is a fvcking nasty thing to have. I will not pretend to understand what you are feeling except in the most abstract way, as I don’t think that either childbirth or wisdom teeth growing in where there is no room can really compare to what you have going on. I do know how helpless and frustrated and angry I felt being near someone who has fibromyalgia, though. It is, shall I say, difficult to watch someone hurt while you can’t do a damned thing to help ease the pain, let alone fix it for them.
I think on many days you are running on pure spite, refusing to let this illness beat you. Today is one of them. I hear in your words your depression and pain, yet I can also see the mental middle finger you are raising in defiance.
I don’t really know what to say to support you. I wish I could stomp a mudhole in fibromyalgia’s ass and walk it dry. It sucks and I hate it and I am sorry it affects anyone, especially you, as you have had to deal with enough drama in your life as it is.
I hope I have your courage when I grow up.
xoxoxo
Hi Bruce,
I am so sorry about your illness. I am 77 now, in pain, but as you have, I have a wonderful family, a great son and two lovely grandchildren, and yes we do want to enjoy all the things around us and not leave our loved ones. You give so many great comfort with your writings and when we both fall asleep for the last time the memories of a past life around them will live on through our families.
Lets end on a bright note the sun is shining andwe have so much joy to look forward to.
Being an Atheist gives me this joy that I have, no fear of afterlife, just knowing,like you, only kindness has been our motto in our lives.
Hi Bruce, I haven’t had much time but I have been dropping in to follow your blog. I am hoping that you are starting to feel rested up after your big adventure. Getting too tired doesn’t help how you feel but, darn it, we all have to go for it and have a good time what ever the cost sometimes.
It may not be in the cards for you to feel great but i do hope you are feeling better soon.
Bruce,
Just found your blog while surfing and I want to add my love and support. I, too have limited spoons, both physical and mental. If you haven’t already, head on over to http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com or google the spoon theory. You’re up and around, that’s the most important thing. Keep writing, and keep making a difference, please. Take care of yourself. I’ve bookmarked your blog, and I’ll read when I am able to. Feel better.