Holding your water
In a psychology course I endured during college, the professor gave us a glimpse into what it’s like for someone who experiences chronic pain. Being a 30-something jogger capable of carrying a 125 pound man piggy- back for a quarter mile, I thought that people with stupid complaints like having a mild headache for the rest of their life should stock up on aspirin.
For all of my readers who are saying, “What a jerk!” I have one concept to share with you:
My BAID (My, But Alas I Digress)
Back to a psychology course that could’ve put a hyperactive insomniac on amphetamines to sleep…
It was 1985, before most of us knew there was an internet. We were given an assignment:
- Take a regular glass, one you’d use for tea or water, and fill it with liquid.
- Lift it as if you’re going to take a drink and then stop half way.
- Hold it there for 15 minutes and
- write about the experience.
You can find video’s on the internet, and had they typed on their Commodore-64 tha you could hold a glass for an hour without noticing any effect, they would’ve failed the test. Whoever thinks you can hold a glass in that position for even 10 minutes without feeling any effects from it has never done it before.
My hand was starting to tremble and my elbow hurt.
The videos advise you to “put down your glass,” to stop holding on to stress or anger. But for many people with chronic pain, that glass is firmly superglued to their hand and the elbow is locked into place.
Anyone who has experienced a chronic, mild headache for months will understand how, after a few weeks of unrelenting discomfort, you start to feel like someone has dragged your brain through a blackberry bramble.
Unfortunately, many of the symptoms that develop are similar to dementia (and no, I’m not going to go there).
Friday is a perfect example of this phenomena. I wrote about it on my Facebook page:
My day so far:
What I remember about this morning:
…..%*$& computer!!!!…..fixed enough by IT to print out 8 documents 2 million pages long (No…it just felt like that many).
What I remember about this afternoon:
%*$& deficit based goals…type, type, type, grrrrr….hissss, type, type…what was I doing???…type…send grrr-hiss emails….copy implementation plans…get key, open file drawer….why did I open this file drawer???…Wander away from my office…
The world’s nicest boss asks, “Are you feeling better?”
I stare at the spray bottle in her hand she’s using to wipe down a glass table and reply, “I have a bad case of fog-brain.” At least I think that’s what I said. That’s why it’s called “fog-brain.”
Presently sitting in front of the computer looking at someone’s post. It said the title was “The Herb.” I click on the post. “The Hero?” I look again at the title on the side bar. “The Herb.” That’s when the | part of the “b” flies away.
MarDrag, who wrote “The Hero” post, reads my blog. She has a great sense of humor, always entertaining us with Getting-Over-Hump-Day memes. She knows how therapeutic humor can be.
I hope this post made her smile.