Wednesday, June 16, 2004

You thought the leaden winter would bring you down forever

It's just a Ulysses kind of day, I guess.

I'm on day two of an experiment of sorts... my physical pain has been bad enough to keep me in bed for the past few months, but lying around only partially mitigates the pain, and if I'm going to be up all night dealing with the pain anyway, I'd rather spend part of my day outside enjoying the amazing weather we're having, or doing something 'productive'. So far 'productive' means getting out and meeting my neighbors, working on the house a bit, playing guitar out on the porch, watering Anne-Marie's gardens, and in general just trying to experience some of this beautiful summer to shake off the chill of the leaden winter.

At the very least, it seems to be doing my head some good, but my body hurts more. (It wouldn't bother me at all if this added activity exacerbated my physical problems to the point that they were more medically obvious... nothing worse than having doctors shrug when they can't figure out what's wrong with me.) Also, I've got this new thing going on where my sleep meds are losing the fight against the pain, so I just don't sleep anymore, for days at a time - but this added physical activity helps tire me out, and last night I had about 5 hours of the most welcome sleep.

I'm trying to cultivate hope that my 'condition' will be at the very least identified if not actually 'cured' in the near future, but after 4+ years of progressively increasing pain, hope does not come easy to me. Getting out and seeing the world a bit reminds me that life isn't necessarily a continuous landscape of pain, that there is some beauty out there, even if I am clutching my guts in pain when I see it.


Blogger krishna said...

"Getting out and seeing the world a bit reminds me that life isn't necessarily a continuous landscape of pain, that there is some beauty out there, even if I am clutching my guts in pain when I see it."
I am sorry that you have to suffer so much! It is not easy to discern and admire beauty when one is going through excruciating pain! I admire your courage. If doctors are not able to diagnose anything wrong with your physical condition, could it be that there is nothing wrong with you? Many diseases could be psychosomatic. Please do not mistake me. I read most of your posts, though I might have left a comment on only a few and you come across as a sensitive and intelligent person. I only wish that your suffering is an illusion that gets blown away one fine day and You could once again experience the beauty of life without gritting your teeth to do so.
Have a nice day!

Blogger Foobario said...

>could it be that there is nothing wrong with you? Many diseases could be psychosomatic

True... my pain started out as an actual physical trauma, then got exacerbated by an absurd amount of stress, and has since spread in ways that could be symptomatic of either 'nerve damage', i.e. improper function of pain receptors, or just plain 'nerves', i.e. psychosomatic pain. Part of this experiment I am doing, getting back out into the world, is to see to what extent my condition changes when my consciousness changes. If it's medical, it's time to get it fixed, and if it's maya, it's time to let it go.

Thanks for your kind words and insights, Krishna.

(BTW, when you first posted here I thought someone was messing with me, i.e. Mushika being Ganesha's little buddy, and suddenly Krishna shows up... pretty soon the whole cast of Mahabharata will be here. But I saw your profile (female, India)... I'm guessing south, maybe Andhra Pradesh or Tamil Nadu? Is Krishna ever used as a female name in the north?)

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Good heavens, don't tell me you fail to recognize the symptoms of Dream Infiltration Syndrome, friend...6 out of 11 doctors agree that interference with a fellow oneironaut's recurrent dream - combined with prolonged meat-time in the dreary Northwest - can result in precisely the corporeal discomforts and insomnia you describe?

Surely you didn't chalk it all up to coincidence.

Fortunately, the cure for your ills is simple, swift and relatively painless: touch not the Dream Buddha, return the yellow amber beads to their rightful owner, and above all limit your exposure to James Joyce prose.


Blogger krishna said...

Good guess! I am from Andhra Pradesh (Hyderabad, to be precise). Krishna means black. (There is an interesting sloka in sanskrit: Kakah(Thecrow) krishna(is black) pikah(The cuckoo) krishna(is black too), ko bheda pikaka kakayoho( What is the difference?-They both look alike), Vasanta samaye prapte( When the spring comes) kakah kakaha pikah pikaha( One can perceive the difference. That is, the sweet voice of the cuckoo helps us to distinguish it from the crow.))
It is also the name of a river in South India. In India, all rivers except Brahmaputra(the son of Brahma) are considered to be female. Krishna is not a common name for women either in the South or North. It is used more commonly in the form of Krishnapriya (beloved of Krishna), Krishnaveni and so on. My name is Manjula. I was christened Manjula Krishnapriya. (My grand mother was called Krishna.) Somewhere down the line, I dropped the second half of my name and I am now known as Manjula or Manju (the shorter form). When I started posting poetry on one of those poetry sites (My poetry is nothing great. It’s an avenue for expressing my thoughts), I chose Krishna as my pen name. Ganesh’s little buddy did bring me to your blog. I won’t elaborate! You will either understand or you won’t. If you do, no explanation is necessary. If you do not, no explanation is possible!
You must tell me how your name came about. Foobario Frobnitzii: Quite a mouthful! The climate here being cold (By South Indian standards, that is), my olfactory senses are not very sharp but I do smell some Italian connection! You must be having an interesting reason to use that as your alias!

Blogger Foobario said...

The only woman I ever met named Krishna was from Andhra, and she spoke Telugu. This did me no good, as I don't have a good ear for Dravidian languages... in the north, if I get people to speak 'dhire dhire' I can usually understand them, but in the south my American ears just hear a wall of sound. I wish it was the other way around, because I liked the south so much more than the north.

My name is actually a joke of sorts: the word 'foobar' is a nerdspeak word related to 'F.U.B.A.R.', or 'Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition'... it was used in the second world war to describe just about everything, but it was also useful to describe most of my engineering education. Amongst my colleagues I had a reputation for tackling completely fucked up problems and finding some elegant solution to them... so 'Foobario' was born, sort of a cross between 'Foobar' and 'Coolio'.

'Frobnitz' is nerdspeak for 'gadget' or 'whatchamacallit', and I figured that it would sound better with Foobario if I added the i's to the end... sort of the way proper latin names of things often end in 'ii'.

So: in a genus and species classification scheme, Foobario Frobnitzii is someone who can come up with elegant solutions when working with gadgets that are fucked up beyond all recognition, a description that fits me pretty well given my electrical engineering education and my inability to resist taking everything apart to see how it works.

I freely admit that doesn't carry the significance or weight of tradition that your name does, but it suits me pretty well :)

As for Ganapati's little buddy: he's small enough to find all sorts of pathways... you never know where you'll end up if you follow him.
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