This was, to my recollection, my very first time eating crow. I felt awful. I felt kind of like Tanya was going to kick my ass, but she didn’t.
Maybe she saw the look in my eyes and at 7 or 8 years old could already recognize honest remorse and pure humiliation and shame.
In any case, we stayed friends, and it never came up again. Tanya showed me some real Grace.
So, when Harold asked what types of hardships I faced and what I learned, as a white kid growing up in Flint, MI… this is what came to mind.
Remembering this made me feel more determined to show the kind of Grace shown to me by Tanya, to others.
People say dumbass shit all the time, and believe it or not, sometimes they really don’t know what they’re saying!
We can’t control the dumb shit people say — but we choose how we react to it.
Tomorrow, Friday, I head in for lumbar facet injections bright and early in the morning. The purpose is twofold:
It will, hopefully, help with the pain in my low back and maybe some of my leg pain.
It will also, depending on how much it helps my pain, help the doctor to diagnose some of what is happening in my low back. WINNING.
“I can’t promise you that everything I try will work. I can promise you that if I try something and it doesn’t work, I will keep trying new things, and I won’t just give up and tell you to find another doctor.
I will also promise that if something doesn’t work, like those epidural spine injections, I won’t keep doing the same thing over and over, hoping that it will eventually work.”
Well, Hell’s Bells! THAT, I can live with!
If you’ve read even a couple of my blogs you’ll know that I talk about the shame-guilt-depression cycle that one goes through when dealing with chronic pain, and/or chronic illness.
We can’t contribute like we should at work.
We lose our jobs.
We can’t help out around the house.
We lose our disability.
We can’t help pay for groceries or the roof over our head.
We can’t we can’t we can’t.
“Can’t” weighs on us and if we aren’t careful it can sink us like an anchor sitting on our chest.
But with this business, I CAN.
The short story is that my doctor is an assclown and refused to call the clinican from UNUM back about my disability claim because he thought I was trying to get put on PERMENANT Disability, and scam the government.
Also, I have another MRI today at 11AM and I see the neurologist on 12/21. There’s a possibliity that there may be something happening with my SI joint/pelvis/hip.
Maybe at some point these doctors will stop treating me like I’m crazy. That would be neat!
As I look out upon the horizon of another twelve months, I wish for myself that I remember to say, “Fuck the haters.” May I only take time for the Yay-Sayers and remember that I can’t take worry to the bank, so I need not worry about what others think of me / my business / my story.
In this next twelve months, I hope that I can do for others what Toby has done for me: Breathe life back into dreams.
May I remember that it doesn’t matter what doctor’s and specialists say — they don’t write my story. I write my story, and I know my truth, which is that my pain is very real, very debilitating, and unacceptable.