Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Back to Studying

I'm packing now.  Oh to be rich. And man-oh-nab, does this fellow know
how to wear a pair of pants!

I've found another listing. I'm so suited for life in the house above!

Oh, the glory of running water and life without anxiety! Monday was such a great day, simply because nothing was wrong. I’d sit down and feel so light; there was nothing weighing on my mind. Plus, Winter is one-third over!

I walked Her Highness with our friends and then went into the village to get some baking supplies so that I could pour my heart and soul into making a cake for Kevin and Shelly, to thank Kevin for all his help with my water system.

Then I got to baking but my bake was complicated because there was a power failure. Damn! But I was delighted to welcome Ally, a neighbour I recently met and adored immediately. She came by with cookies and so I invited her and Peter to dinner on Saturday. We’re going to play Scrabble. I’m excited: New friends and doing what I like best now that I can’t speak very well—playing a game.

I’m lamenting the creation of the Internet.

At first it astounded me. It brought a massive compilation of human knowledge into my home, and I was amazed and thrilled. And email and video chatting. It was a huge advancement, it seemed to me.

But the Internet has killed the newspaper industry, except for certain exceptions, and they’ve become sensationalist and panderers to niche audiences in order to financially survive. And that, in combination with the Internet which facilitates the spreading of lies as readily as it informs with fact, is threatening social stability.

I’m appalled by how much press absolute idiots on the right get in leftist news organizations. Why do they write about people who say and do the stupidest things? Why to the help spread ignorance and irresponsibility?

Some things make me glad I’m old and soon to depart.

I’m still not back to studying. I wanted another day off yesterday, to chill and to bake the cake. But I’m getting back to it today with abundant enthusiasm. 


Ex-pope Benedict apologizes for lying with another lie: He says he ‘made a mistake’ when he said he was not at a meeting informing the papacy of sexual misconduct. Suddenly, he remembers after proof of his attendance is revealed. And then there’s Robert Kennedy who says being an anti-vaccine activist is worse than being Anne Frank. Sigh.

You want dinner here Saturday? Yes? Okay, you eat special. Okay. Me make garlic tart veg, and cake. 5:00? Five half? Six? What you want? … (Ally asks me if I like games.) Yes! Me love games. Best way visit me. Less talk, more play. (She asks me if I like Scrabble.) Oh yes! You lose. Peter lose. 

That’s how I speak now. I still stutter, and there are gaps in my speech, some a few seconds long, but I can get ideas across. It’s working well for me with some patience/understanding required by my friends. It’s as though I’m transitioning because my ‘key word’ speech (my term) is a lot like signing.

At 4:30 yesterday, I had my weekly session with Michelle. I love her and learning new signs. I couldn’t wish for a warmer, more engaging, kinder coach. I love signing so, so much! I had three very mild, short seizures; I learned how to sign, “seizure.” 

I’ve realized that I’m learning to sign, not to interact with deaf people, but as a tool that may allow me to become a far more fluent speaker. I have good reason to believe that I’ll be a more effective communicator in the future, perhaps mixing signing, gesture and some words. 

What it comes down to is: response time. If I must write sentences or type into a speech generator to converse with my doctor, the doctor must do a lot of waiting. The gap is even more irritating between me and a friend. I foresee being able to eliminate that gap; learning ASL is my therapy. 

I know where I’m going. The December decline in my condition (I learned how to sign that, too) has been a personal earthquake, and I’ve been having to do some rebuilding. My decline really threw me: every day felt so similar, I felt emotionally numb, I had no goals and I felt burdened by my condition. I felt all that, but not unhappy, or angry or bitter.

Learning ASL has been a positive emotional double-whammy for me. Having purpose and a vision for a better future has hit me like a drug, giving me a great high. Michelle adds a magnificent other element: encouragement.

As I baked my cake yesterday, I kept getting little rushes of joy every time I turned on the tap, flushed the toilet, and did laundry. And then Ally’s visit and making a date for Saturday night gaming. I had a very good day.

I know where I’m going.

Put another way: I’m not lost any more.

This is my life with FND.

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