macular degeneration, macular, diagnosis Play the Cards We Are Dealt – My Macular Degeneration Journey/Journal
Play the Cards We Are Dealt
Greetings from the lunatic fringe. Home six days now and it is nutz.
Much of what is happening is, well, partially normal. After being in airports and airplanes across the eastern seaboard I screwed up my run of no contagious illnesses. I spent Tuesday afternoon throwing up….at school. I had a case of the flu. Some sort of 24 hour bug I can only attribute to being stuck in a tin can with a couple of hundred others and recycled air.
Fortunately, my office is right across from a bathroom so it wasn’t too much of a disaster. The nurse and others were very helpful and I did have offers of rides home. Did not take any. There was work to the done and after the first time I threw up, I felt better. Really. Besides, I wasn’t going to get anything done by going home. Might as well work between bouts of nausea. The interims lasted a couple of hours each. Also, my benefactor would lose an hour out of her work day, too.
Is it fair to inconvenience folks when they do you a kindness? How much stress do you want to create for others? Inquiring minds.
Tons of work to be done. I would have been more out of sorts if I had not attempted to tackle some of it. Sick at work is sometimes better than utterly overwhelmed.
Some of the ‘busy work’ I hate had actually been done for me while I was on vacation. Anyone work for a bureaucracy, you understand about useless, pointless work.
Sometimes I appreciate people doing me kindnesses and sometimes I object. It is good to know I am valued enough they will put themselves out for me. However, I also don’t expect people to do my work. I don’t want anyone to think it is necessary just because I am visually impaired. Crazy dilemma. You don’t want to offend people, especially when the next minute you may legitimately need the help. However, you don’t want to slide, either. Or at least I don’t.
I had a client today who is physically impaired. This client is wrestling with some of the same questions. Wanting to be totally independent but not being able to be. I tried to explain to this client that, in my opinion, it is not a matter of success as much as a matter of style.
We each play the cards we are dealt. They may not be a winning hand, but if we play that hand with skill, we can still win in our own way. Just the same: what constitutes skill? I am just full of rhetorical questions tonight.
Back to another question/contradiction/whatever with me: my boss at school held up a note for me to ‘read’. Hell, I could just about see the paper. I grabbed it from her to position on the end of my nose and she was all apologetic. She forgets I am visually impaired and I love it. It tells me my work is still good.
Two days later I am at the gym and stewing. People are racing past me and yelling “Hi, Sue !” Clue who they are? Nope and drove me crazy. Kept grumbling to myself that people need to remember I am visually impaired and IDENTIFY themselves. Same lapse. Two very different reactions. I am hopeless.
And with that, I am signing off. That is just part of the stresses of the week. The stresses of coming back and hitting the ground running. My husband found me amusing last evening because I was actually stumbling after the first day at the office. Zounds. Time for some self-care and I did. Food, bath, bed, a little journaling. Bye.
Written November 17th, 2017
macular degeneration, macular, diagnosis Play the Cards We Are Dealt – My Macular Degeneration Journey/Journal
Play the Cards We Are Dealt
Greetings from the lunatic fringe. Home six days now and it is nutz.
Much of what is happening is, well, partially normal. After being in airports and airplanes across the eastern seaboard I screwed up my run of no contagious illnesses. I spent Tuesday afternoon throwing up….at school. I had a case of the flu. Some sort of 24 hour bug I can only attribute to being stuck in a tin can with a couple of hundred others and recycled air.
Fortunately, my office is right across from a bathroom so it wasn’t too much of a disaster. The nurse and others were very helpful and I did have offers of rides home. Did not take any. There was work to the done and after the first time I threw up, I felt better. Really. Besides, I wasn’t going to get anything done by going home. Might as well work between bouts of nausea. The interims lasted a couple of hours each. Also, my benefactor would lose an hour out of her work day, too.
Is it fair to inconvenience folks when they do you a kindness? How much stress do you want to create for others? Inquiring minds.
Tons of work to be done. I would have been more out of sorts if I had not attempted to tackle some of it. Sick at work is sometimes better than utterly overwhelmed.
Some of the ‘busy work’ I hate had actually been done for me while I was on vacation. Anyone work for a bureaucracy, you understand about useless, pointless work.
Sometimes I appreciate people doing me kindnesses and sometimes I object. It is good to know I am valued enough they will put themselves out for me. However, I also don’t expect people to do my work. I don’t want 
anyone to think it is necessary just because I am visually impaired. Crazy dilemma. You don’t want to offend people, especially when the next minute you may legitimately need the help. However, you don’t want to slide, either. Or at least I don’t.
I had a client today who is physically impaired. This client is wrestling with some of the same questions. Wanting to be totally independent but not being able to be. I tried to explain to this client that, in my opinion, it is not a matter of success as much as a matter of style.
We each play the cards we are dealt. They may not be a winning hand, but if we play that hand with skill, we can still win in our own way. Just the same: what constitutes skill? I am just full of rhetorical questions tonight.
Back to another question/contradiction/whatever with me: my boss at school held up a note for me to ‘read’. Hell, I could just about see the paper. I grabbed it from her to position on the end of my nose and she was all apologetic. She forgets I am visually impaired and I love it. It tells me my work is still good.
Two days later I am at the gym and stewing. People are racing past me and yelling “Hi, Sue !” Clue who they are? Nope and drove me crazy. Kept grumbling to myself that people need to remember I am visually impaired and IDENTIFY themselves. Same lapse. Two very different reactions. I am hopeless.
And with that, I am signing off. That is just part of the stresses of the week. The stresses of coming back and hitting the ground running. My husband found me amusing last evening because I was actually stumbling after the first day at the office. Zounds. Time for some self-care and I did. Food, bath, bed, a little journaling. Bye.
Written November 17th, 2017