Age of Consent

 

“My last day of work is June 30^th!”   “My last day of work is June 30^th!” 

I keep repeating this to myself.  I have been at my current place of employment for nearly 13 years, so it’s not like this is the end of a major era, but it is long enough that it feels strange to think that I won’t be going in anymore.  I am officially taking a medical leave of absence.  My goal is to get better in every possible way.  Ever since my brain surgery in February of 2021, I have not been right.  I still cannot walk.  I still struggle with control of my left side.  I still have swelling on the back of my neck.  I still have a laundry list of issues with my vision, strength, my transplant, etc.  In addition, I am now taking a medication named Belzutifan to try and shrink my VHL brain tumors, which will be inoperable because it would be too dangerous.  At any rate, the new medication, applied to my already shaky state of being due to my long history of medical issues, has been incredibly difficult.  The drug reduces my hemoglobin to dangerously low levels, which means I have no energy, feel fatigued, and feel like I cannot breathe.  The medication also makes me feel foggy, experience nausea, headaches, and edema.  I am no longer able to be the best employee I can be, no matter how hard I try.

For the first time in my life, I’ve decided to focus on getting well.  I am trying to learn to ask for help.  I have reached a point, where I struggle with day to day living.  I cannot express how difficult this is for me, but I find myself worrying if I can put together a meal, or take out the trash, or get my weekly blood labs drawn, because the parking lot is three football fields away from the hospital entrance.  It’s scary to let go.  It’s scary to admit that I’m not capable to take care of myself anymore.  As a young man, I used to daydream about the idea of living in an assisted living home.  Of having my own pad in a building that serves food and takes care of the cleaning and entertainment.  That was before I realized that the only ones worth a damn are unbelievably expensive and that giving up control of one’s life is one of the worst feelings in the world.  I probably have an unrealistic and super bloated sense of pride and control, because I’ve always taken care of all of my own stuff and have come back from a lot of set-backs.  I didn’t understand why people resist retirement homes and assisted living.  Well now I understand how it feels like being thrown away. 

Please understand, I realize that I am privileged.  I’ve debated about even telling others, because things could be so much worse, and these days, so often are.  I am honestly scared.  As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, during my brain surgery in 2021, I was completely crazy for a time.  That experience still haunts me.  I was bed-ridden for a month (two of those weeks was ordered to be immobile and lay flat 24/7).  I had no control.  No one would listen to me.  I lost the feeling of trust.  That experience still informs me.  I am especially slow to trust.  I feel isolated.  I have no plan about how to get better, or what to do in the future.  My leave is indefinite, but my work benefits are not.  Yet I am reluctant, embarrassed, and seemingly unable to ask for help, nor do I know what that help would actually be.  If someone offers help, I do not know how to accept it!  What do I ask them to do?  How do I get over my stupid pride and ask? 

When I was crazy while in the hospital, I hallucinated every night that if I drifted off to sleep that the staff would change my room and place me in places I could not get out of.  I’m sure I was a prize patient for the nurses, because I would panic.  I still panic.  I currently struggle to stand from a seated position, but am also unable to stand for long periods of time.  I feel like I am easily stuck or stranded, so I become anxious about things going wrong before anything happens. 

I am very uncertain if I am making the right decision here, but I can honestly say that working every day has been nearly impossible physically (along with the mental struggle most of us worker ants can experience).  I worry that my health decline will continue and then I could be stuck without income, and health insurance.  I suppose it is my new adventure.  Sorry for taking up your time.

Memories Fade

 

In the Spring of 1985, I was in the 8^th grade.  I have a vivid memory of getting dressed up for my class’ 8^th grade graduation ceremony.  I put on my best dress pants, wore the only non-basketball shoes I had, I put on my prized new sport coat, which was black and filled with colorful speckles, which buttoned over by my left arm at the waist – like a jacket from the 80s should.  I was in my bedroom listening to the Portland Top 40 station Z100 as I did much of the time in those days.  They were playing Tears for Fears’ “Shout,” which I was pretty enamored with.  This coincided with the time, like many people, that I was developing my own real tastes in music and was soon to have income.  Later that summer, I obtained my first real job and began buying records.  It was mostly top 40 stuff – dance remixes and albums.  Of course, I purchased TFF’s second LP Songs from the Big Chair and all of its related singles.  Even though that album was a massive hit and a huge part of the mainstream’s consciousness, it still managed to feel a little different than everything else around it.  I mean it was a hit record that was inspired by the disturbing movie Sybil, about a woman suffering from a psychological breakdown (during my senior year of high school, one of our teachers showed us that movie starring Sally Field in class.  I still marvel at how I think it took two weeks of class time to muddle through.)!  Tears for Fears was my major gateway band. 

Around this time, I noticed that most of the songs I heard and liked on Top 40 radio were the ones that would disappear from playlists quickly or barely crack the Top 40 and I was fascinated by b-sides.  I especially loved the experimental and strange b-sides on the back of TFF’s hit singles.  This is when I became obsessed and began buying all the music I could.  I purchased TFF’s debut album The Hurting, and all of its related singles.  I began having crazy dreams about finding non-existent limited-edition vinyl singles at the local grocery store with exclusive b-sides.  When I look back on it, I realize that this was very unhealthy.  The Hurting was a giant album for me.  It is so isolating and it was strangely identifiable for me (I was generally a happy go lucky kid).  I loved and still love its unbelievably aggressive darkness.  It is so sad.  So tragic.  It can be difficult to listen to.  It’s a cry for help, not a pop album!  But wow, did I lose myself in it.  Next up, I learned about the usual suspects from the time: Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Smiths, Joy Division/New Order, etc. and it went from there in a hurry.  By the time I was graduating high school, I had gone through a goth phase, a punk phase (first UK, then different regions of the US), an industrial phase, a NO WAVE phase.  When I was dressing for graduation, I was likely listening to “God Damn the Sun” by Swans or a My Bloody Valentine or a The House of Love EP from Creation Records.  Like many people, I feel a great nostalgia for the music of those formative years, but I’m mostly nostalgic for the sense of discovery and wonder this journey provided me.  I still love the thrill of learning about new music and artists, but it will never come as fast and as extensively as then.

This is on my mind, because I recently ran across a live set of Tears for Fears from the German TV show Rockpalast recorded in 1983 that was a revelation.  Not only is it a high-quality documentation, but it is an excellent performance.  I never really considered this music “live”-ready.  The performance loosens up the extreme stiffness of the LP, but remains tight and measured.  It hit me with a lot of emotions, including nostalgia, and reminded me how horribly claustrophobic and depressing those early songs are.  It also sends me down black holes of thought.  Like how when I listen to younger and current artists like COLD BEAT or CASTLEBEAT, or many others that tap into an 80s sound, no one has made it like TFF did then – not even them!   I thank them for sending me on this continuing musical journey!

Tears for Fears "Memories Fade"