Our walk Friday morning was wonderful. I was very pleasantly surprised by how well I was able to communicate with Di, Dona, Anthony, Judith and Regina. It’s always been the case that I speak best with my fellow dog walkers because I see them 3-4 times a week. I cherish them for that reason. I will never be isolated or lonely thanks to them.
Bruce called me on Facetime, and it was brutal. But I discovered something: I am fluent if I whisper. As time passes two things happen: I relax into my condition, my fears decrease, and I learn work arounds. It was a huge relief yesterday to have these experiences, and I’m only 3 days into this reduction of capacity. I’ll find out on Tuesday how well I speak with dear friends whom I don’t see often. The more time I spend with people, the more I will understand what to expect when I socialize. But I felt very, very relieved after yesterday morning’s walk.
This decline hit hard, but I am finding my way. I’m not ‘locked out’ as I feared. But I just barely communicate. Day-to-day living is fine when I’m alone, and very, very different from the first 7 years of FND when I speak. I’m not looking forward to Zooming with my BC Stutterers group. I’m sure they’ll let me stay, but I no longer identify as a person who stutters.
I still stutter, but the stuttering is slight because when I do ‘speak’ now, I often have to say it one syllable at a time. I don’t follow grammatical rules either. I use what I call key words. For example: “I’m going to the store, okay? I’ll be right back.” I say: “Me go store, fast back.” I stick to one-syllable words as much as possible. But you know what? It’s what I do. It just happens. I don’t have to think ahead of speaking. I just can’t do otherwise.
Wednesday was sad and scary. Thursday was calmer but still scary. Today, I’ve felt happy all day. As I experience this new me, it’s less frightening and I as I develop coping strategies, that helps too. The huge relief of being able to communicate at a basic simple level has given me a huge lift of spirits. Add to that, that I’m still alive and living is my own paradise, and my affliction doesn’t hurt and is not fatal.
I took a note to the pharmacy and gave it to Aaron. It was not about dating even though he’s the most handsome man on the island, and he’s very personable. I’m a big client of the pharmacy, I have 9 ongoing prescriptions that I’m constantly refilling. The note was to ask permission to renew my prescriptions by email. There was an email from him in my in box when I got home.
And I got a deeply moving email from my friend Bob. He’s part of my theatre family, and he was married to Karen, one of the most fun and smart people I knew. She sadly died a couple of years ago. I watched their two incredible daughters grow up. They all were part of our theatre community, and Karen and Bob once worked for me. One of his daughters, Jessica, is a friend on Facebook and she saw my video showing the severity of my impediment. She told Robert, and so he sent me the note.
I doubt any of my long-time friends know how important they are to me. I’m sure they know I love them, but I don’t think anyone who had a family can’t understand what it’s like to grow up without one. But they likely don’t know that they are functioning for me as family. Instead of feeling part of a family as a kid, I’m feeling it now.
It’s almost certain that I’m going forward with a new guideline: Declining invitations to be with more than four people (including me). I suspect I may be invited to some Christmas parties. I may go, but they are so loud and over stimulating, I shut down. I am restricted to observer status, and, frankly, I’d rather not be there. But I will do it, happily, when not to feels rude to me.
I also thing playing games is a great way to visit with friends because it’s being together in a common experience and when playing games, we don’t talk politics or debate. I can’t engage in deep conversations; it’s not a good fit with my speech capacity.
•
I finished the huge novel I’ve been reading, The Covenant of Water. I enjoyed it, and it’s a great story that spans three generations. I marvel and Verghese’s imagination—and his vocabulary. I didn’t have the over-the-top reaction to it that happened when I read his first novel, Cutting for Stone. I’m going to read that book again.
•
I may be reaching a point of movie saturation. I don’t tolerate watching television or movies as well now. I’d rather read, answer emails, write my posts or go down internet wormholes. I may go to Vancouver more often, or Victoria, to break up the routines of the indoor season.
•
Today is predicted to be, as yesterday was, dry. I’ve got to clean up the car before I go to Vancouver, and I’m going to put the bed back into the car so I can lie down if I want to, with Her Highness, on the ferry. I go to Vancouver on Tuesday. I’m feeling very, very much better about going because I can be present with my friends. It’s different, but it works.
This morning, Her Highness and I went for a forest walk and I felt positively euphoric about life. I’ve already reached a point of not caring at all about my voice anymore. It is what it is. I am fine and life is fabulous. Here are some photos from our morning walk.
No comments:
Post a Comment