Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Isn't better... Better?

Ah, choices, choices... As I'm entering this, I need to decide whether to attend to Alan, my misbehaving bladder, or let him do his Thing, whatever that may be, and deal with the aftermath later. Each has a price. Even "do nothing" has a price.

I just finished snagging a mid-morning snack. There's a price for that... and eating nothing? There's a price for that.

Choosing anything, MS or not, has a price. But on the MS Highway, choices and prices are clear, and high.
I definitely would prefer to choose comfort over discomfort; "this makes me feel better" over "This does nothing for me, no matter what anyone not driving this body says about its promised benefits."

So here's a thought... I'm going to finish this, then going to go do something that makes me feel better. Deal with Alan, maybe go down a herbally-assisted path (they often really do make me feel better), listen to some music, maybe podcasts, maybe cartoons. As you can tell from my recent posts, certain cartoons really do make me feel better.

And isn't better...


Sunday, March 29, 2015

It's... not.

A quick post, then back to bed. Tying the first two words was a session of "mangling the text," and most of my initial time was spent undoing the errors and working around the ever-helpful autocorrect.

You can guess how I feel about that. But, as Steven Colbert often said, moving on...

A friend of mine had some brilliant gifts to share yesterday... we talked about the same issues I shared yesterday, about finding leaving the property (of my house, the house and the back yard/patio, specifically) to be as unpleasant as it gets, making me often regret every moment of the adventure.

He reminded me of a favorite saying I had for students who were having math or programming difficulty: if you have no idea what to do (typical in high-school math circles), just remove complexity. Doesn't matter what you do or how. Just remove complexity.

Think about the basic high-school algebra struggles, all about "X = what, exactly?" They're hammered with things like "reflexive" or "associative" or all sorts of things, but all of them usually confusing as to WHY you would do "whatever." Basically, it works out to put all the X's on one side of the = and the not-X's on the other side. Use the rules, make only one X, in front of the equal sign. Then if you need to, fiddle with the non-X side to make the answer as simple as possible.

My condition is what it is, and my current state means that I experience certain things, which things have costs. There's very little, if not nothing, that can be done, and what there is makes me feel better or worse. So, my friend said, what about the basic principle: Reduce complexity.

Leaving the property involves complexity, often that turns out both useful and horrible. So, reduce complexity: stay on the property. Stay in bed and rest.

And what's bad about ... that?

Sure, if I don't go to TomatoMania this weekend, I don't get to buy the plants I want to have in my garden; the obtaining of which is simplicity itself if you're not chair-bound or long-list-of-issues that I'm beset with. So, I don't go... what's the downside? I contact my Garden Guy and tell him that the tomatoes are on him, I'd sure love my Tomatomania goodies but I've loved everything he has planted, so no long-term downside there. Go with the flow. Relax, even, why not?
But basically... reduce complexity. What's mostly lost is discomfort, effort, and dissatisfaction. Suffering, even.

And how is clinging to suffering a good idea?

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Oh well

Wow. Again, I'm blogging. Things must be better, eh?

An interesting time, looking at another dark time: I seem to be in a state of "I really don't want to go 'off property' (off MY property, leaving the home and all it contains)" for basically, any reason.

I just want to lie down. Sleep, maybe. Listen to cartoons that warm my heart. Meditate.

But not go "off property." Frankly, getting off the veranda into the back patio is enough. I'm not even psyched to be pushed onto the lawn in the front yard, so I can see and with luck enjoy my front-yard plants. Formal camellias, roses, surprise after surprise; it's quite a nice yard. But wheel chairing over uneven ground makes me uncomfortable; thank God not sea-sick nausea, but it does create a very "off" feeling.

Going off campus involves things I'm beginning to enjoy less and less. The transfer from the chair to the car--transfers of all kinds are becoming less fun because I'm never really sure if I'm going to transfer safely and not collapse or slide off onto the ground. Ouch! And then there's the "riding in the car," which also can addd to the "queasies..." Sudden stops, harsh stops, bumpy roads, it doesn't take much. And of course there's the elimination nonsense, the continual struggles with Alan the bladder.
Today is Tomatomania, source of all sorts of amazing stuff, including magical plants like Black Krim and Pink Ping Pong. But, getting there involves transferring into and out of the car, dealing with the ride there and back, surviving the rough ride over the lawn where they always hold Tomatomania at Descanso (the closest and most "convenient" location), plus the inevitable bumpy paths typical of such places. Then all the stuff gets home, gets planted assuming I or a friend have the energy--and oh yeah, because I don't drive and couldn't well, accomplish anything from the above list, without help from someone else. Who gets to load me and all of my stuff into and out of some car, deal with the transfers while praying that all will go well, do all the pushing over the un-fun bumpiness, help with if not full-on do the planting, and wouldn't it be fun to go to lunch? Oh yeah, except for the queasiness and the transfers. 

Leaving the property ends with, or at the very least involves, unpleasantness. And besides, I just want to be in bed anyway; I don't like getting up for anything beyond making tea; at least that never makes me feel sorry, as opposed to eating, which I frequently find to be necessary at best.

And the question arises, so if I don't decide to deal with the challenges of TomatoMania, I don't get my Black Krim or Pink Ping Pong or Sungold or why not, a Vorlon. Well, my Garden Guy may come up with some stuff to plant, but probably not the ones I'm looking forward to. 

I've lived a lot with "I guess that's not going to happen," I should be used to it, shouldn't I. I don't do things all the time. Like, for example, standing, in a percussion section.
Or sitting at an organ and not only "not falling off," but actually playing it.
Yeah, I don't do those things any more.

Oh well.