Not Getting It

It still surprises me all the ways people don’t get it. I deleted the comment that told me to ‘ “get a life”, how depressing this blog is and that I complain too much.’

I should have left it. It’s an object lesson in the lack of empathy. Or maybe I’m passing too well. I find myself suddenly and inexplicably paralyzed and in constant pain, without access to my home, far from friends and family. Through this I have found champions, and met many kindnesses. I also meet those willing to pile misery and mayhem on my malady.

I document my resistance.

I remember the doctors standing over me telling me how they couldn’t take it, if they were me, how strong I was and didn’t I want some drugs to help my state of mind? My neurologist at the time was insistent. Finally I formulated what I needed: not anti dpressants, but a laptop. How could they help? Get me a laptop and pray for me to walk.

They did not get me a laptop, nor did my job, that I was frantic to maintain.

All praises to the internet and to a wonderful RENTWAY that rented a Dell,
Delivered it to my hospital room, enabling me to order a laptop. It was unaffordable and it has been my lifeline.

I remember a doctor saying that a laptop would be less expensive than antidepressants--- but it wasn’t something he could write a prescription for….

Anyway, I remain stunned by the singular lack of empathy among so many.
Is it that I can record what happens, that the very nature of the reportage renders it “complaint”? My able body and the previous shape of my life by its very nature spared me all of this casual abuse, doubt and difficulty.

Some of you will say of course. Thanks to those who can hear and feel.

I miss moving through a day, unplotted, to jump up and wash my clothes, to take a quick shower, to not fear falling, to not Require delivery or pick up, to not be subjected to anyone’s lack of understanding, to not need anyone’s help.