FRIENDSHIP and DISEASE --part 2

FRIENDSHIP and DISEASE -- part 2

Pic courtesy of Ralitza Tchiorniy

This blog post is about the friends I have and about those I have lost as a result of being sick.

One beautiful day in May, I got sick. This day turned into weeks, months, years. My denial of the disease turned slowly into acceptance and realization of the good and bad the disease brought to me. Instead of reading all my beautifully written papers from the past, I finally put an implant in my head with the sign: "This was the past! Enjoy it! The good thing is that there is now!"

Some people show interest in learning about diseases for the sake of getting information. Another group is more worried, "What if it happens to me tomorrow?" The happy-go-lucky ones are 110% sure, "It will never happen to me!"

One day in May, a viral brain infection hit me. It left scars behind, but it also left me to deal with them. From hiding, to openly talking about seizures, psychological side effects, communication, feelings.... And friends. This is the road of the survivor.

You can lose friends due to all kind of diseases. Sadly, you may not even know exactly what caused their death. There may be many people around you with seizures, too. They function perfectly well, they take, or do not need medications. But, there is a group of unlucky 1/3 of the people with seizure disorders, whose seizures cannot be managed. With time, the types, the treatment techniques and side effects change.

Ignorance always remains the most difficult to fight and cure.

My story is not unique. I am one of the one third. My writing is as good as it gets with the amount of  medications I have to take in order to live. Sometimes, I ask my daughter to edit. She edited my memoir "Seize the Seizures" a number of times. In my blog, I just do my best.

With social media, the number of friends skyrockets. I take being a friend to someone much more seriously. I pick them one by one. Forgiving those who hurt me because of my disease-related deficiencies is a must. They just do not know what in God's name they are doing.

In my life with the disease, I have observed several types of friends. The friends who depart gradually, tip-toeing away from me. I call them in my memoir the "fill-in-the-gap" friends. We spend some time together. I listen to their problems more than they listen to mine, give support, and joke. I never see their friends. At some point I realize, I have been taken for a ride, but not to Starbucks. I am simply "laid off" as a friend. "Just not a good fit." This is how a business will word it. "There has been restructuring in the Friends Department."

There is another group of "Miss you" friends. They do not come to see you, or go out with you." We should get together soon!" Sounds sweet, can bring even tears. But the distance between our houses is a couple of hours. Maybe, there was a tornado, thunderstorms I slept through, raging fires, The Chesapeake Bay Bridge collapsed. Yes, that is it. "Soon" was stopped because of these unpreventable, natural events.

There is also a group of "direct offenders." They will explain with disgust how most of the "disabled people" they know are mean and needy. One cannot understand them. My advice will be: google their disease. If he is constantly ending up in your house, help him find his way home. He is lost today, you may be lost tomorrow. No one can understand you better, than the one who has already been lost.

BUT, in this world of hours, there are REAL FRIENDS. You do not need them every day, they may be busy with work, kids, grandkids, parents. I do not need to discuss anything with them. THEY KNOW.

I am fortunate to have real friends. The High School ones are very precious to me. After being in a medically induced coma, I spent time figuring out what my life was and what it is now. In the coma, the brain shuts off everything horrific in order to heal itself. The brain is smart!!! How do you live without knowing who you were? I was hungry to learn all that my friends remember. They remembered too much: I was good at math and English; I was a nerd, but had my life on the side; I was writing good love letters; I was paying close attention to what teachers were wearing -- old-fashioned clothes or stylish ones. Another one said I was smiling a lot. Not very easy-going, one said. Snappy and feisty on occasion.

While writing my memoir, everyone I knew plus some new schoolmates I got in contact with later, were getting 40-50 e-mails with questions. They never said, "I told you already." With patience, they described the same stories over and over again. Why, what, who, when, where were flying back to them. Some answers were totally irrelevant to my condition, but they answered because I asked.

When you love someone, you have a difficulty having a meaningful conversation. You stare at each other with a locked mouth. At least, this is what I think.

I went on vacation to Bulgaria. I met my friends for minutes. My timing was not planned well. The minutes were filled with kisses, touching faces, crying. I swallowed these seconds, they are in my throat even now.

I have lived long enough in U.S.A. to develop many friendships. But there are two I cherish the most. It does not matter how I met them. The connection between us is like between Winnie the Pooh and Piglet.

"Piglet sidled up Pooh from behind. "Pooh?" he whispered.

"Yes,Piglet?"

"Nothing,", said Piglet, taking Pooh's hand. "I just wanted to be sure of you."

A.A.Milne

 

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FRIENDSHIP and DISEASE -- part 1

Picture courtesy of Ralitza Tchiorniy

                          FRIENDSHIP and DISEASE -- part 1

This blog post is about relationships with friends.  

Social media, or my favorite "Facial Book," a.k.a. Face Book has sucked out any intimacy out of communication with my friends. I can barely keep up with what the short answers to my questions mean. Does "Yes" in a text mean you are upset with me, or we are OK? I have to read the previous text. Should the answer "Let's talk about it!" mean talk about your "Yes" or your "No?" Does "Like" mean anything at all?

In the process of making friends (yes, it is a process,) I learned the rules of the social media and the new way of communication.

Living in a "foreign country" creates its conundrum of rules when creating friendships. What do you keep a secret, what is discussed in public -- I did not know. I came from a European  environment where "Hi! How are you doing?" was a signal to stop and talk about your life, your kids, everything important to you. The friend listens and does the same. After years of living in U.S.A., I realized that no one cares at this stage of the conversation about these details. S/he will be 3 blocks away from you, or 5 text messages away from you, until I finish my response. O.K., I got it. Now, I just say "Hi." I do not even bother to go into the 'what I am doing' part. If I am asked another question, then I know, "It is time for a more involved conversation."

Building a lasting friendship is never easy. It does not mean that the people in the group of two or more have to think alike -- they have to be able to function and understand each other; they need this invisible link, which attracts them constantly regardless of distance and time.

I always make baby steps in building a friendship. I am not the type to have hundreds and thousands of them. What would I do with so many? I will not have time to listen to their success stories, nor their problems. How can I encourage them? I will probably forget their names; I will not meet them daily. There will be no need to talk about "no wrinkles on my pictures" either.

By the way, I chose the giraffes' pictures by Ralitza Tchiorniy for several reasons: they are graceful and beautiful. This is how I see my real friends. We do not discuss our looks. I will always see them looking the way they looked the day I met them. Another part of the giraffes' looks -- they are the tallest living terrestrial animals, who have also the longest necks. When they fight, they smack each others necks. Isn't that what you would like to do sometimes with your friends? Very gently, a smack on the neck... Finally, they have big hearts to allow the blood to climb up the long neck. They fight but not to death. Some "necking" is good enough to determine the winner.  If one of them sees danger, s/he communicates to the other one, then both look in the same direction and protect each other.

Friendship assumed a totally different look when I got sick. I have a sickness for life. The friends changed faster, than me. In the second part, I will introduce you to them.


To be continued. ...

RECYCLING - A NEW CYCLE

Pic Courtesy of  L' Garage

Pic courtesy of De Garage

RECYCLING -- A NEW CYCLE

Recycling is really big in our house. When the county replaced the small  recycling bins with the new 32 gallon humongous containers, I was ready to jump into mine. The "giant" required a recycled mind -- the mind of a conscientious citizen, who knows his responsibilities and handles them in the name of his surrounding environment, his children's and grandchildren's nature.  

So, the following steps occurred. Instead of whining how huge the container is for a 2-people household, my Honda CRV was kicked outside of the garage. I felt no mercy. My husband's car had to squeeze her beautiful body to the right in the twin garage space... There is still enough space for a good driver to get in and out of it. I positioned the recycling bin in between the garages. If there is a winter storm, The Honda will be brought in [somehow] to stay warm. One has to think about all kind of natural disasters. I will not lie -- the space is tight. But consider the mission -- recycling. 

This new container brought back memories from many years ago. When I left Europe in the '90s, recycling did not exist. There were big trash containers, which collected the trash on an unknown to me schedule. As one can imagine, opening the lid and throwing the trash was not a type of house work any family member will aspire to do. We had a small bucket with a lid. My daughter was a little helper, a real "house bee." She did not fear to empty the trash. The aroma did not scare her. She will walk 3 floors down and do the work. She and I were interchangeably involved in this. 

One day, she did not come back as fast as usual. I went downstairs to look for her. What I found is hard to forget: half of her body was in the trash -- with one hand she was trying to get the bucket out, while the other hand was used to keep the lid from falling on top of her. She was not screaming, I was screaming. After I got her out of the trash place, I decided to finish what she started. I had to get the 'golden bucket' out. 

I was successful, but the two of us looked literally like trash. We showered fast. Until today, this story is ingrained in my mind.

One would think I have learned a lesson. Evidently, this did not happen. I saw the size of the new container and wondered how I would keep it clean (I am a cleaning freak.) Uhh... After the first recycling pick up, I tilted the big boy and nearly crawled in. It did not take much. I am 5'2". After its condition became pristine, it entered the garage.

Let's get serious on the subject of recycling. With this big container, my insatiable, compulsive desire to recycle multiplied. It is like with the bigger portion of food -- you eat more when you have more on the plate. With the bigger recycling container -- I recycle more. Respectively, I see less bags in the trash containers. 

I do my share in keeping nature clean, one piece of paper at a time. 

I live in a community where a curbside on-stream recycling is in effect. Paper, glass, cans, and plastic -- all goes in one container and travels to the recycling centers. It is easy, convenient, simple, fast, economically efficient, and, most importantly, it is all about sustainability of nature. 

The schools do their share, too. Students, parents, grandparents -- everyone is involved. There are competitions, educational programs, big Earth Day celebrations. 

This is what the recycling container does for me: my route from the kitchen to the recycling container in the garage is 80 steps both ways. The minute I generate an item for recycling, I deposit it where it should be -- in the recycling container. I do it at least 20 times a day. I can march, run, walk like a model, like a ballerina, like a bunny, with huge steps, baby steps, and old lady's steps. All of it does wonders for my aching bones. Sometimes, Tigerboy, my cat, will run with me. It is good for his handsome long body, too.

Recycling is a game for both of us. If I have grandchildren, I will teach them to do the same. They will be running with cereal boxes, pieces of junk mail, milk containers, paper cups, juice containers... The glass and metal will require walking, not running. Please, don't make me responsible if someone falls. 

Reducing what needs to go in the container [in the first place] is a matter of healthy living. I do not eat use plastic bottles, plastic plates, the newspapers go to a responsible grandpa in the neighborhood. He helps with his grandkids school recycling. 

I am left mostly with cans, produce packaging, some paper and beer bottles. I do my best to recycle and I feel it. I am saving trees, energy, creating jobs, building a new economy of recycled products, keeping the air and water cleaner, wildlife happier. 

I AM  A PART OF NATURE.

What I hate with a passion are the phone books and the gift wrapping paper. How many times have you looked in a phone book for your buddy Joe's phone number, or a plumber??? Why do we have to wrap the presents for any occasion until they choke to death? There are several layers of thin paper inside the gift bag, and then, there is the gift bag. My daughter and I are in the habit of regifting the bags to each other, or just plainly exchanging presents without any bags. 

I want to know what Santa brought me right away. Forget the bag! It is a waste of time. I want to know right away what I got. I am not a child.

The 'cake' goes to the ones who throw water bottles and other trash on the hiking trails. Here they are -- all looking beautiful on a several thousand dollars bike, with hundreds of dollars spent for proper shoes, jackets, total outfits, technology to measure speed, distance, pulse, incline level, calories, etc. Oh, I forgot the hundred dollar designer sun glasses.

I ask myself do you need a helmet if it covers no brain? 

According to DoSomething.org, organization for young people and social change, "Americans throw away 25,000,000 plastic bottles every hour." There are 10 more reasons listed to make you think about recycling seriously and explore different campaigns for social change. 

RECYCLE, PEOPLE -- START A NEW CYCLE!!!!

Image courtesy リサイクル記号 〜によって petr kratochvil

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