de nobis fabula narratur
I continue to be self-conscious about my appearance particularly because my back is now very curved, and I really feel like Quasimodo. I don't like how I look when I catch sight of myself in the minor. I mean, I was never a beauty queen, but I was also not a candidate for the freak show. And yes, I know that vanity is not an admirable quality; that being alive and mobile beats my opinion of my looks. I know all of that. But still... Which of us doesn't attach some value to our appearance? And I, like most people, cringe away from being pitied. I hate it when I get that look from strangers when they see my twisted back. Although, paradoxically, I'm frustrated by those who see me struggling with my cane, or trying to pick up something that fell, and they do nothing to help. Contradictory? Maybe, But I would have thought that courtesy would prompt you to ask if I needed help, not that you push past.
I'm nervous about my upcoming appointments, since I was reminded last week that I'm actually sick. Yes it was the resident, nor my doctor, who is good at giving context and information which help me understand the proposed treatments and things like expected side-effects. Most important, though, is his ability to keep my focus on self-care and off my grumbling worries of things that may not happen. He is the one you want to deliver bad news if it was needed. Of course it would be far more preferable if I learned to be less emotional and reactionary when dealing with news that’s not great, but is also not the end of the world! And when the doctor alludes to your age as being “old, but not too bad; you’re the same age as my mom” it’s disheartening. I’m starting to feel old and washed up, in addition to sick… none of these are particularly encouraging. But I’ll be ok. We will have a nice time catching up in person, so we’ll need to sit down with the steel
Ok, I’ll call it a night. I’m drooping endlessly at the moment. Sleep well!
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