The Gravy and the Meat

Casual friends sometimes say, "Oh, you must really miss the mountains -- you were always so active." This is usually said in a manner indicating they believe it must be the biggest adjustment in my life. And, from a distant peripheral view of my existence, that's a reasonable impression. I've certainly had moments of deep twinges and some tears when passing by my dusty skate-skiis or ice ax. And, felt the smidge of envy when the Monday emails come in and friends' FB pages are updated with pics of the latest weekend adventure. And, as I experience the solitude of my new life. But, no it's really not what's been on my mind for the last couple years and especially recently.

It's true that at one phase in life I thought outdoor adventures, especially in the mountains, were the whole point of existence. And, the pesky job was just a gnat that I wasn't creative or talented enough to figure out how to do without. Being single and childless, the outdoor adventures were the point for quite a while.  But, seriously, these things are the gravy in life. No, I'm more concerned with the survival points of existence. My thoughts circle around and around about employment, accommodations, insurance, housing, general cognitive function. As a single American without a partner's insurance to fall back on, I need to be careful how I make the next moves in life. Very careful. Yet, moves need to be made.

These things are on my mind more as my daily symptoms are seriously amped up, likely from surgery, and my function is down. Even my tiny existence that I've carved out for myself has become more of a struggle than usual. Ok, I once dated someone who referred to me as "the queen of understatement". Let me restate. Attempting to meet the responsibilities of daily life right now is utterly wickedly brutal.

Last week I visited my possibly-maybe-shoulder-shrugging-not-much-we-can-do-for-you MS Neurologist. I left feeling frustrated and less than enlightened. She probably didn't think it was a great time either. I mentioned that during my surgery recovery, while I experienced incision pain, I didn't have my daily fatigue wall of molasses movement and slurring. Nor did my body buzz and vibrate in its usual fashion. Now, I probably had the cognitive fog, but who could tell between the narcotics and naps.  She seized this opportunity to suggest I simplify my life. I countered that I've already done a serious job of stripping it down to the bones. In a way that was both indirect and blunt, she noted that lifestyle modifications include not working.

I've accepted that I'll be leaving the workforce prematurely. However, as I have yet to gain solid answers and am still working with practitioners on shaking the tree, and am single, I'm not ready to flip a permanent switch. I've been thinking of asking for more accommodations. However, I'm lucky to have a fair amount of flexibility as it is although it appears that's not enough right now. My recent perusal of the fine print for the long-term disability policy informed me that it's for only four years! And, as I did seasonal work (think low paying) in my earlier days before re-assimilating into the mainstream, my SSDI would be enough to possibly rent a fishing shanty. And, I'd need to move... and... and...

As I wrote this, I received an email from a pal showing his pics from the first of the season back-country ski outing. Was I envious? No, it's only the gravy and right now I'm concerned about the meat (or the tofu).

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Single clematis bloom that occurred a couple of days before my surgery and lasted for a month.

Wish I were a decent photographer for this close-up...should have paid attention to Dad...

A fat spider that has been in residence on my deck for a couple months.  I purposely avoided rotating the plant below it so as to not destroy it's beautiful web.  It was destroyed in the last wind storm though.