[marie black]

weird effects

by marie black on Mon Apr 15, 2013 7:35 pm

Fatigue and restlessness, depression and hopefulness, joy and sadness are all part of the weird make-up of being incurably sick.
On top of that there is the feeling of being scared all the time. It is like being on a roller coaster at that point when you are at the top of the hill looking down, just before you actually take-off. Your heart races and your instincts tell you to flee. Some people want to throw up and others sit back and let the ride take them. I wanted to vomit. That was the all-day feeling I had. I was forever at the top of the roller coaster without the ability to come down.
I started comparing the length of my life to everyone else’s. It seemed unbelievable that our 14-year-old cat Molly and my 83-year-old mother might both outlive me. Everyone that I thought I would follow into the next world, it seemed I would now lead them there instead. I was not happy. I was scared, scared, scared and terrified.
Then there was the overwhelming desire to just give up. It couched itself in my brain in terms of: “why bother?” As in “why bother exercising because I’m going to be dead soon”. “Why bother getting the bunion on my right foot fixed when I’m going to be dead soon?” “Why bother wearing make-up, taking an interest in the news, calling friends, planning trips, buying anything or learning a language when I’m going to be dead soon?” Why not just sit here in this chair in my house looking out the window every day until I draw my last breath. Why not? Since “dead soon” seemed to be in a lot of my inner sentences, it was natural that I thought about funerals. The weird thing was in the last five years I had often dreamt about attending funerals. It was always the service for someone I knew well, like a good friend or relative. I would see myself sitting at the funeral and I would try to imagine my feelings on the day. I don’t know why my mind insisted on this practical exercise. Maybe it was emotional preparation for the real thing. But in all the years I dreamt these scenes, I never once saw my own burial. Now I saw it clearly. The flowers, the music, the guests and the hole in the ground next to the casket were all so real. I stood at the back of the crowd hovering like an apparition. I could see green lawn and white wooden chairs lined up in rows. I couldn’t see the guests’ faces clearly. I only recognized Alex, who sat in the first row with his back to me. He never turned around so I couldn’t see his expression. I don’t think I wanted to. In spite of the English garden sort of setting, the atmosphere was heavy and suffocating. I couldn’t hear any crying but there was a wearisome humidity that hung over everything. It wasn’t a frightening dream or even particularly sad. Instead it created a feeling of anticipation in me that I couldn’t quite understand.
I didn’t want to die but I didn’t want to be scared all the time either. I had to come down off the roller-coaster and put my death in perspective. It seemed like every day there was a new massacre, natural disaster or armed conflict. So many people lost their lives in the space of the half-hour nightly news that I began to feel a little arrogant for thinking my life was special. Everybody died so why shouldn’t it be my turn? After all I was insignificant in the great scale of the universe and in the shadow of the BIG GIANT FOOT. This philosophy of randomness became so important to me I should have had it embroidered on my tea towels. It was my own personal religion – THE BIG GIANT FOOTISTS. It relieved any responsibility I had for my own death.
Of course my sudden deification may have been slightly enhanced by my steroid use. The listed side effects of dexamethasone included personality changes, irritability and mood swings. I took ten steroids every Thursday and Friday for eighteen weeks. Initially, the ‘roids (as Charlotte called them), just made me anxious. My heart raced, I couldn’t sit still and I was wide, wide awake all day. But soon “judgmental Fridays” became part of the package. It was like there was a little selfish, stingy, mean person incarcerated inside my head that broke out of jail every Friday and wreaked havoc on whoever she liked. Although I recognized my awful behavior and had warned my children about it, it didn’t mean I could stop it. The increase in my sarcasm and cynicism went beyond anything I had anticipated.
On one “judgmental Friday” I took the girls shoes shopping. Charlotte tried on a pair of shoes and modeled them for me. As she walked up and down the aisle, displaying the pair of economical, comfortable, casual black flats that she had combed the store for, she proudly announced that they were only $20. Instead of praising my younger daughter for her thrift and sensibility, in the middle of Number One Shoes, at the top of my voice I announced:
“THEY LOOK CHEAP.”
Luckily the girls thought that was hysterical. Charlotte put the shoes back on the shelf and they guided me out of the store. From then on every time I started to say something sarcastic, my daughters would chant: “They look cheap”. It usually worked and it was a wonderful way to put me in my place.
Alex also bore the brunt of my steroid temper. One night he was sitting in our living room with our cat Molly on his lap. He did this most nights as he adored her. He had a habit of saying:
“Look, look”.
So we would all look at the cat to see how cute she was with her head on his tummy and her tail tucked under her. On one Friday night I didn’t want to look at the stupid cat so when he said:
“Look, look.”
I said with exasperation: “I’m going to sew that cat to your ass”.
Alex looked shocked and a little hurt. I had no intention of apologising and there was an awkward silence. But when Charlotte started laughing it broke the tension and ended my tirade.

[Beacon Staff]

Re: weird effects

by Beacon Staff on Mon Apr 15, 2013 8:21 pm

Thank you, Marie, for sharing your experiences with the members of The Beacon's forum. We're sorry to hear about all the challenges you are facing, but it is generous of you to let people know about what you are going through.

Just to clarify something so that there are no misunderstandings among members of the forum ... Only original content should be posted in the Beacon's forum. The forum should not be used as a place to post content already posted or published elsewhere, or which will be posted or published elsewhere.

There are one or two exceptions to this rule ... Forum members are free, for example, to re-post press releases, since they are generally not copyrighted and usually available at many sites across the Internet. Also, excerpts of material posted elsewhere also are permitted.

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A related point that also should be mentioned is that the forum should not be used to promote anything, whether it be specific products, treatment centers, blogs, and websites.

Forum participants are free, of course, to share their experiences and opinions, or update one another on important news, and such posting may at times indirectly "promote" a product, treatment center, etc. That is perfectly acceptable as long as an individual participant's points do not become repetitive to the point of being more like promotional activity.