Kvetch. Kvetch. Kvetch. Not you. Me. What a sorry statement from one who felt it so important to face life’s trials with grace. Handle it. Learn to live with setbacks, and keep moving in the right direction. There was something stoic about my silence. I was proud of that. To kvetch is an old Yiddish term for constant complaining. There is a large wad of bubblegum stuck to the soles of my shoes. I am stuck on that word.
Complaining about life’s miseries is not an attractive habit. I tried not to venture across that treacherous terrain. I figured complaining is like crack, not a habit anyone should find appealing. I have a few blood clots still dissolving in my body. The amazing disintegrating man continues his messy struggle with psoriasis. I could redo the roof with my shingles. And all of the above is kicking in MS madness. Friends tell me I have a right to complain.
No I don’t.
Well, yes. Actually, I have the legal right to feel sorry for myself. Kvetching is protected speech. But how pointless. Tedious. I used to be a role model for my family. Now I think they want me to write when I find work. My clothes are caught on the barbed wire of bellyaching. The time has come for a new strategy.
Chronic conditions come at us slowly. They cannot be stopped, but we sort of know what to expect. A pulmonary embolism strikes like lightning. As with heart attacks and cerebral hemorrhages, a clot can drop you. That came close with me. So put it aside. I did almost drop my teeth at the whole thing, but nothing actually fell to the ground. So stop obsessing. It s over, and you have learned a lot about preventing future occurrences.
Which brings me to my psoriasis. I am in my fifth month of itching. Pretty freaking annoying, but survivable. The medication did cause significant hair loss. I had to go with a buzz cut. My hair was ridiculously long anyway. I came of age in the sixties and was my hair. For goodness sake. Get over it. It is not 1968 anymore. Besides, everyone is saying they love the haircut. Go figure.
Then there is the shingles. Are the shingles? We all live in fear of that one. Mine seems to be a relatively mild case. Last but not least, the very annoying, slightly scary scene of the MS rearing its ugly head. There is nothing new here. How many times has that happened before? Sometimes I make it back to the starting line, wherever that happens to be at the moment. I may lose ground, but let’s not assume anything for the moment.
Well, what have we here? An armature lawyer whose entire case has just been thrown out of court. So, cool it, and give everyone around you a break. You were born a curmudgeon, and that does not have to change. Just do all a favor and pull up the shades to let the darkness out. And smile. You are cute when you smile. Wait a minute. No, I am not.