The Beatles have a song for everything. I slept finally, my brain drained from the pain; screaming in my sleep where I used to laugh. None of us know when we are going to die but it gets a little closer when you are facing down the barrel of the gun that is going to kill you; in my case, the gun is an unseen disease called 'autoimmune disease'. One of the ironies of my life; I have something that attacks my body and causes it to slowly eat away at every cell, organ, bone on the inside. What the normal process of life is but sped up like night lights on a fast photo time lens. When the doctor had first mentioned it to me I had to ask him to say it again and slowly. "Your cells are attacking themselves." blah blah blah; no please how can that be? It was like the game my older brother and sister played with me as a child; "stop hitting yourself". It made me laugh because it was so ironic; the love of irony a gift from God given to me early in life. This game involved the elders taking my arm and hitting my face with my own arm while saying, "Stop hitting yourself!" I would laugh and laugh and it got to be harder and harder to pull my arm away because I was laughing so much; I couldn't stop myself. Well, believe me, I'm not laughing now and I wasn't laughing when the doctor called my work that I loved to explain that "autoimmune" cells are attacking themselves. Speeding up the natural flow of death at a certain percentage (in my case 'aggressively'. ) I don't sleep much now partly from the pain and also what I term the 'pain nightmare': Every time I moved I groaned becoming more and more conscious of the pain. All the more ironic because I pray for relief from the ever-presence of this aggressive beast.
Showing posts with label ironic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ironic. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Hard Day's Night
The Beatles have a song for everything. I slept finally, my brain drained from the pain; screaming in my sleep where I used to laugh. None of us know when we are going to die but it gets a little closer when you are facing down the barrel of the gun that is going to kill you; in my case, the gun is an unseen disease called 'autoimmune disease'. One of the ironies of my life; I have something that attacks my body and causes it to slowly eat away at every cell, organ, bone on the inside. What the normal process of life is but sped up like night lights on a fast photo time lens. When the doctor had first mentioned it to me I had to ask him to say it again and slowly. "Your cells are attacking themselves." blah blah blah; no please how can that be? It was like the game my older brother and sister played with me as a child; "stop hitting yourself". It made me laugh because it was so ironic; the love of irony a gift from God given to me early in life. This game involved the elders taking my arm and hitting my face with my own arm while saying, "Stop hitting yourself!" I would laugh and laugh and it got to be harder and harder to pull my arm away because I was laughing so much; I couldn't stop myself. Well, believe me, I'm not laughing now and I wasn't laughing when the doctor called my work that I loved to explain that "autoimmune" cells are attacking themselves. Speeding up the natural flow of death at a certain percentage (in my case 'aggressively'. ) I don't sleep much now partly from the pain and also what I term the 'pain nightmare': Every time I moved I groaned becoming more and more conscious of the pain. All the more ironic because I pray for relief from the ever-presence of this aggressive beast.
Beauty Is Skin Deep
Why 'autoimmune diseases' are sometimes invisible.
A few Mondays ago my eyes acted up from the autoimmune process. I had to be taken by a dear friend to my eye doctor who has also performed "needle in the eye" (quite literally) surgeries on me. He is a very good doctor, which is hard for me to say because I hate doctor visits and will avoid them like the plague, so to speak. He is all business. But this day, as he looked into his 'enlarging lens' he said "Your skin is impeccable. So fresh not a wrinkle or mark. It's flawless." This was unusual for him, that's why I comment on it. I wasn't wearing makeup; never do and I'm used to these comments. Though I appreciate them I take them with a wry sense of irony.
A few Mondays ago my eyes acted up from the autoimmune process. I had to be taken by a dear friend to my eye doctor who has also performed "needle in the eye" (quite literally) surgeries on me. He is a very good doctor, which is hard for me to say because I hate doctor visits and will avoid them like the plague, so to speak. He is all business. But this day, as he looked into his 'enlarging lens' he said "Your skin is impeccable. So fresh not a wrinkle or mark. It's flawless." This was unusual for him, that's why I comment on it. I wasn't wearing makeup; never do and I'm used to these comments. Though I appreciate them I take them with a wry sense of irony.
Let me explain. I think the people who say these things are very kind, but I don't take it personally. As I see it, if you looked just beyond the skin, they wouldn't be saying it. The comment "beauty is skin deep" applies here. Not in the usual sense. I hold strong my beliefs in being true to yourself and others. loving others as yourself, et al. But just beyond the surface of this serene scape there is a war in full battle. All I can say to these kind-commenting-acquaintances is, "Thank you, that's very kind of you" and move on thinking, "If only they could see inside of me." Such is the autoimmune world. Many times you do not see it. So think again when you judge the skin of someone, good or ill. There is often something that person is battling with that you cannot see.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)