Cheryl, Thanks as always for sharing.
I can't play the game of choosing poisons, it hurts too much. I am grateful to be able to create, I grieve daily on my inability to create in the way I once did. I need to stand to lift 30 pound ladles of hot glass, to cast large sheets of paper. I need to walk up or down stars to get to my looms and my kilns, my beaters and my grinders. The inability to walk in a tiny town means I can't get anywhere to present, perform, teach, learn, explore, see. During March as a part of National Crochet Month I participated in an online group's daily freeform challenge. I made something new every day, sometimes multiple time a day and the result of this was a ton of work -- a triptych, a new alphabet design, and lots of new skills, ideas and pieces. I couldn't go to the store to buy fabric to mount the triptych, took my chances buying the material online and after sewing the pieces which turned into 3' wide panels -- i need dowels to hang the panel. while dowels are also online -- I can't afford to pay the exorbitant shipping -- 20 and up for what is $5 worth of wood -- and to get someone to go get it for me is $20/hour plus costs of materials with the uncertainty about getting what i want -- and there's no way for me to get to the hardware store, less than a mile away. So I can't finish my art, and unfinished, it can't be sent, submitted or delivered. And it's all the fault of T.M. I undertook a correspondence course to certify me to teach crochet, got the certification, lined up three jobs ( amazing, even in this economy), created curriculum and then spent six months trying to find a way to get to the sites. Even with a disabled jobs firm (via social security) working on my case, where the worker visits mainly to hang out because there's nothing they can do for me. EVeryone else they help, be they blind or mentally challenged - can walk, can get to where they need to go. So I envy the stories of those who found new things to do or new ways to do things. I am smacked at every turn. All praises for the internet so i can get glimpses of shows and art, and have discourse and discussion. The lessons of T.M. have been horrible -- did I need to know who wouldn't be there for me? Is there some "after" that this sad knowledge will be useful in? Maybe I'm slow, but I don't get it. Was it about asking for help and not getting any? I long for the overarching insight others report having gained from their situations, mine has been isolating and diminishing and I'm just hurt and bewildered. I ignore the pain until I can't or sometimes --- when I don't get much done for days and wonder why, then I remind myself that I'm pushing through a fog of pain, and sliding half of an unresponsive self in and out of bed. The worst question I get is does it hurt or how does it feel like, because then i focus on it and realize that i had dialed it down to a dull hum. or low static, and focusing on it, sharpens it. I play the game of --if just one leg could move, then i could get in and out of cars, and if i could just stand -- not even walk, just stand, then i could travel-- because then i could use bathrooms other than the one at home with the special seat for me to transfer on to. And I play the game of if i had a million dollars -- i play that one a lot-- if i had a million dollars then i could get the exoskeleton -- there was a news item on TV about a woman who "ran" a marathon in her exoskeleton -- then i could walk downtown, walk to the store… ….. Glad you found a solution. My one pill solution for pain is naltrexone and other than that -- sleep. that all be well, Akua
