Old Dead Shot Right O and Crushing Self Confidence

One of the hardest parts of chronic illnesses of any is maintaining one’s self-image.  It takes so very little to make us lose what little confidence remains whether it is a comment or a seemingly insignificant failure.  For me, it still comes back to a seemingly simple two-step until one tries to dance the jig.
1) Own it.  There is a saying in project management, take your pain early and take your pain often.  It is true with chronic conditions too.
2) Whenever possible, laugh it off.  Nothing is as belittling as being the subject of laughter.  I like my failures and inability to seem as small (and few, when I dare to dream) as possible.  
Over the weekend, my son was trying to aim a little toy disk launcher at some balloons from a friends baby shower, but he kept missing.  Standing from 5 feet away and missing was making my daughter, A, laugh, which was making O ever more upset.  Looking on, it became apparent he was missing to the right every time.  So I took him aside and told him he needed to stop crying because while his sister should have stopped teasing him when she saw he was upset, it’s hard not to laugh some times.  It was funny after all.  I told him some of the stories from my humor post, and he liked the stories of why I keep a spare pair of boxers in the car.  
Then I told him, he needed to own his missing.  Become the super hero, “Old Dead Shot Right O, he of the purple Mohawk.”  Then take steps to aim to the left and exaggerate the gesture in a grand theatrical way to “compensate.”  He was having fun again because it let him be a ham in a great show for hiss sisters.  The best part though was his shocked face when he actually hit the balloons.

As an adult, it is a lot harder some times to own the situations in which we find ourselves.  Maybe it is because the world for adults defaults to the serious.  We are responsible for so many issues.  With each of our legitimate responsibilities comes a host more for which we feel responsible.  For those serious times when the pressure of the real world makes my MS unsustainable along the current course, I try to remember this post from a few years ago (2005 or 2006) on an MSworld.com forum:
Sometimes who we used to be wasn’t really “us” to begin with. Maybe it was not who we really were so much as a collection of roles we played. The hard worker, the soccer mom, the dad who was a rising star at his job, the great outfielder–all those things.

What we are now is “us” stripped of many of our roles. We define ourselves by what we do, not by what we are. When, suddenly, what we do is not possible any more, we are left with something we do not recognize because it has been covered up by all the roles we play.

Maybe the question is not, “Who am I now?” but “Who am I?” We are a go/do/purchase society–when we can’t go, do, or purchase things we want to be identified by (the Hummer, the newest iPod)–holy cow, what is left? Just us. Unadorned, unembellished us.

It is so hard to accept ourselves that way. Our culture is like those old west movie sets–a big facade on a building that is built like a box behind. If a windstorm blows the facade down, we look at what remains and think–well, that is not very interesting. Where is the sign? The architecture? Where is the fun in a boring, square structure?

In reality, what is behind the facade is all that matters anyway. Denuded of our roles, we are left with what we have always been. Who we were was often great (and often not)–who we are now is where all the good stuff came from to begin with.

We’ve lost a lot, but there it stands before us–the opportunity to remake ourselves.”

-tejokid 
I just hope the stuff behind my façade still brings a few smiles. 

Thank you to all who have read this blog.  I am still shocked to see 10k views.  

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If We Can Afford To Do IT …

 

…then we can afford not to do it.

As we traveled this past week, this came up in my head many times, but it was highlighted on the morning we had a reservation for horseback riding.  We had already delayed our original reservation one day because A wasn’t up for it.  On the second morning, we asked ourselves why push her and us.  She was exhausted, and didn’t even mention it when asked what she wanted for the day.  She was panicking over very small issues, and despite her loving to ride horses, we didn’t really want to risk her panic while riding.  So we decided we should cancel the plans, even if it meant losing the $200 it was supposed to cost us.  If we could afford to go, certainly we could afford to not go.  With MS, I always plan on it being me who is sick, but the treatment and mindset needs to remain the same for whomever.  Luckly, the staff at FDR  (http://www.fdrholidays.com/) managed to keep us from being charged at all.

All in all, our trip to Jamaica and the FDR was incredibly nice.  The staff there were generally the nicest group I’ve ever encountered on any trip.  I don’t know how to express how far they were willing to go out of their way other than to tell the story of a conversation my wife had with our nanny (yes we had a nanny because the resort provides nannies for the guests’ kids) on our last full day.  She asked J how she liked the resort, and my wife answered bluntly as she always does, “This place is great.  It would be perfect if only it had a decent bed in the master bedroom, because ours has left me sore every night.”  When we came back to shower before dinner, they were carrying a new mattress upstairs.  If only we had asked after the first night…Seriously, how many places will replace the mattress the day of a complaint.  It’s just one example of how far the staff at the resort regularly went to make our trip pleasant. 

J and I got to go on dates each of the last three nights as our nanny took care of our kids.  We went on more nights out in 5 nights there then we had gone out in the prior year.  On the last night we even sang Karaoke.  I was asked in college to never sing again, but I was easily talked into singing my tune killer, Puff the Magic Dragon when J saw it in the book of possible songs.  With 6 of us there, it’s not like I was singing to a crowd, and it’s not like I didn’t warn them.  It’s the tune I sing when songs get stuck in my head and has been for decades.  What I loved and will keep in my head was the back and forth with J singing, “You are my Sunshine” to which I answered with “There Must be 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.”  Of course J got the final word in singing about the 51st way with “Goodbye Earl.”  Yikes!

Anyway, here are a couple pictures from  my favorite of our family vacations:

 

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