After living my life for the past three years in terror of dying any moment I’ve reach a certain peace. I’m able to read about my stroke and my medications. I don’t know whether it’s a certain fatalism or trust that I’m doing the right things. I’m unsure if I’ve decided to be positive or if I’m resigned to my fate; I don’t really care at this point I’m happy to have survived. When I had my stroke living was the number one priority besides getting to a better point in life. It also dawned on me exactly how hard it is to kill a human being. I had to concentrate on getting into a much different fame of mind as far as my health went. That I needed to get back my strength was obvious but my mental state was just as precarious. I knew that getting back to where I could think clearly was going to take at a minimum three to four years. After that I’d be as healed as I was likely to get given my age and former lifestyle.
I’ve started by taking a good look at my medications and what they do for me and to me. I realize that I’m taking some heavy duty stuff with lot of consequences. They affect everything from the growth of my nails, to my balance and my libido. Everything is clouded by these medications and the frequency with which I take them. Morning, evening and bedtime are a ritual of pills including one which helps me to sleep. One is for anxiety which was known to me but from which I never suffer too badly or at least I had my mechanisms to cope. Did I mention that booze is not longer among the mechanism I can employ. Probably for the best but the jury is still out. If I should contract a major illness all bets are off but for now I’ll be good. I am trying to cope with the medications, the limits on my thinking and on my abilities. It’s time to develop new strategy’s to cope with changes in my life and times.
I feel that I am now getting to the point in my recovery where I can make informed decisions in life. No I’m not able to think as clearly or as fast as I once took for granted. Gone is any desire to return to the competitive work that I once knew. Gone too is any ability to keep up with the punishing lifestyle of a commercial photographer. So obviously some changes in strategy are in order. I have to decided what the values are in my life, what’s important as I go forward. Frankly how will I be able to survive in this new world I find myself in. I’ve got to prioritize my desires and my realities and assign a real value to each of them. No longer do the old values have the meaning they once held for me and my future. I have been trying a new endeavors that have long term possibility along with my photography but it’s the short term I’m worried about. That worry seem to be a common denominator in today’s world and will be for some time to come. But we can’t be held back by our fears of the world and what it may bring. After all I could step off a curb and be hit by a truck tomorrow. Then where would all my worry have gotten me.
3 comments:
For better or worse I took a decision 9 years ago to refuse all oral medication and control my tumor side effects primarily through diet, only accepting medical help when a life-threatening situation occurred.
Apart from the odd mild painkiller (which doesn't get rid of the pain, it just takes the edge off sometimes) I refuse pills in any shape or form, and use food as my medicine.
This held good for me through brain surgery and through radiation therapy. I amazed the docs because my recovery times were so fast. Now I'm not for one minute saying this should be the case for everyone, but I am convinced that for me (and only me) the tons of pills I was taking were doing way more harm than good. The human body is pretty darn good at repairing itself if you give it the right fuel. I'm living proof of that.
Diet can’t be excluded from the mix at all. My Doctors were amazed at how fast I recovered and that I recovered at all. I credit my diet such as it was and the exercise I got. You are so right that food is health.
I agree with Lin. I was offered heavy duty pain killers when my scoliosis was diagnosed. That was 30 years ago. I refused to take pills and instead enrolled in dance classes, took up weight lifting, aerobics, swimming, Pilates, walking, a variety of physical fitness routines over the years.
This fall my doctor asked me if I wanted some narcotics for my back. I said, "No, my nephew just died taking prescription drugs. I'll pass."
I don't know what I would do if I ever had a problem that made it a life-and-death decision to take or not take drugs.
But I do believe we all handle things differently and do well with different options. Michael, go with what works for you! This is just my two cents.
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