Have you ever noticed that when you are ready to hear a message, you see it wherever you look? I keep bumping into the idea that most of the time people fight through the trauma of an accident or the shock of receiving a “bad” diagnosis.
When my medical scare with NPH took place in late 2016, I don’t think I knew this. Fearing needles my entire life and horrified at drastic medical procedures I’d heard of others having to endure, , giving up seemed an option,
Of course I didn’t say this out loud. Luckily my analyst and husband, sons and grandchildren, were able to help me see a different picture.
In an article by John Leland, Sunday New York Times this week, I read this statement: “The truth is, people get better. An acute accident (and I add a scary diagnosis) doesn’t have to be the end.”
The article pointed out that when people have a premature feeling of when the end begins, it is harmful in terms of what care they seek. I think this speaks to what I was experiencing. When I couldn’t walk and didn’t believe I ever would again, it seemed like the end. I didn’t want to seek the care I needed.
In the same article, gerontologists reported that the paradox of old age is that as people’s minds and bodies decline, instead of feeling worse about their lives, they feel better.
Thanks for exploring the mystery of paradox! Nicky Mendenhall
12 comments
Nicky,
Thank you for your courageous, thought-provoking sharing.
Were your ears burning Wednesday? People in class said they’d like to reach out to invite you to come back…. I told them that you had a whole new wonderful exercise routine now, and probably would want to stick with it….
…. Even so, we would still love to have you come if that is ever your best path.
We all sent love and blessings to you.
Ruth I so appreciate you reading and your kind words.
I don't remember any particular ear burning on Wednesday but I feel so honored that my Tai Chi friends are thinking of me. You are correct that I am into a new world of exercise. If I had unlimited amounts of energy and time, I would love to return to class. I miss the group and our shared challenges. Give my best to everyone.
Thank you again and my love and blessings flow freely to you and all.
I generally like aging despite the limitations it places on me, or possibly BECAUSE of them since I love being home alone reading and making soup and watching films. I think often of my mother in her final years, stuck in a facility in one room, but rather content. Having a few health problems, however, changes things. It is surprisingly easy to sort of give up and roll over. I am healthy excpet for arthritis, but lately I have had three crown replacements and an extra eye surgery for a piece of cataract that didn't get washed out during the first surgery. This operation was painful, and I cried throughout the procedure and stayed tucked in the house for the most part this week. I have thought a lot lately about people who have really serious conditions. Mine is temporary and fixable; even so, it makes me aware of my mortality.
Vicki – you hit on another paradox when you say that the limiting effects of aging make it possible to stay home and do what you want! It is paradoxical that when we limit ourselves we often gain more satisfaction. Amazing!
I'm so sorry about the pain you had to experience due to another eye surgery.
Your observation that it is surprisingly easy to sort of give up helped me feel less alone and less dysfunctional over all. Thanks for that.
Sending my wishes for a speedy recovery and continued liking of aging. You have always been a great example for me of how to live life to the fullest.
This makes me think of Mom and her cancer. I have a vague memory of her swearing not to undergo chemo. Other than being stiff and sore in the morning, aging has been agreeable for me.
Interesting Nolan. Do you mean that Mom said she wouldn't do chemo in the beginning but then did?
I'm glad that you are aging well! Congratulations!
Yes, that’s what I seem to recall. Didn’t Levi have cancer?
I think he may have had lung cancer? I'm not sure.
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Nolan – I was trying to get some order to your comments but ended up deleting one. Sorry! It was the one where you said you didn't know what you would do. Thanks for reading and commenting. Glad to be connected this way!
I think we were at grandpa Hiatt’s when Mom got the call that her Dad had cancer. It was the first time I saw her cry. I don’t remember anything about his illness but I do remember being with Kevin at the funeral.
Oh Nolan – what a memory, "the first time I saw her cry", how sweet is that! Remember when she used to cry when any of her children left home – even after a visit?
As for Grandpa Levi I don't remember either except I know he was at Mayo clinic. I remember the funeral too – the first one I think I went to. I remember crying when I saw all the people walking by his body.
Thanks for this conversation.
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