The War Within
Daily, it seems, I feel the alien Presence that resides within, Slowly pressing life from my Faculties in a bland attempt To reign in full over my ravaged body.
Neither do I madly oppose nor readily Submit to my ruthless attack, But attempt to retain a shred Of normalcy in my existence.
Life takes what it will, and Being a product of two lives, I am subject to be called To nonexistence, as is all creation.
Nature permits no flattery...
No favoritism...hence the Ultimate equality of mammals, Whether man or beast, in death.
September 27, 1982 Lauren Isaacson
The third and last cla.s.s of the day was geography, dealing with the conflicts of urban life and the planning of cities. It was what I would call a "crash course," as it was a full quarter of work condensed into a mere four weeks" time. The first test, being somewhat of a midterm exam and covering a great deal of the text and lecture material, was given after about two weeks; I need not say, perhaps, that I found the cla.s.s to be quite exhilarating. Indeed, it kept me on my toes, if I may borrow a well used phrase, and taxed my eyes as well.
My efforts proved worthwhile, however, and I scored highly on the initial exam. A final exam and a project were the only remaining obligations of the cla.s.s, leaving two English courses as my sole exertions for the rest of the quarter. It wasn"t a bargain, but then nothing could be had without making an allowance of some consequence.
After attending my cla.s.s, I would gratefully return home, exhausted, and lie down for several hours. I generally did no homework on days I went to school, saving my energy for days off and weekends. School coincided with drudgery, for I was no longer deriving any pleasure from life. If I was not in school or studying diligently, I was thoroughly fatigued and unable to pursue diversions of my liking. It seemed to me that I was nearly committing suicide through the over-exertion of my failing body, playing the role of a normal person when I was unfit for the rigorous portrayal.
As the days pa.s.sed, I began to see the utter ridiculousness of my situation. I felt lifeless after school, and began to wonder why I maintained the effort; I had no foreseeable future in which I could utilize the knowledge obtained in college, and my time and energy thus spent gradually took on the guise of futility. It was after two occasions of pathetically wetting my nightgown (due to the fact that my exhausted body did not heed the brain"s warning of distress) that I decided to accept defeat. The demeaning situation described above occurred only during sleep after school days, which, consequently, were the days that caused the bulk of my exhaustion.
School was not a "given" in my life; it was a factor over which I had control. Initially, I felt I had no other alternative but to uphold a charade of normalcy, for that gave my parents the right to hope and feel, perhaps, that life for our family was somewhat akin to the societal norm. Although I had experienced deep tremors of anxiety toward the thought of attending school during the summer months, I too, deemed it best to carry on; I could not abide the image of myself as an unproductive, and therefore, devalued member of the family. Also within me was the question of whether I could manage the demanding pressures of school, and the need to somehow prove to myself that I could, both mentally and physically, pa.s.s the test. Though my a.s.signments were well accepted, my physical performance was far below average; my will was strong, but my body could not keep up. The decision to drop all of my cla.s.ses spelled defeat, for I disliked to quit, but even more it meant relief and the freedom to entertain my desires in a comfortable atmosphere without overly taxing myself.
My parents looked upon my action with more regret and pain, for it brought the issue of my ill health to the forefront. Now it could no longer be concealed behind a wall of books or hours spent out of the house, for I was home all day, every day. My mom persisted in her a.s.sertion that "if only you"d taken just one cla.s.s. . ." it could have added excitement and social interaction to my life. Had I enjoyed school as do habitual students, I might have followed her suggestion, yet I found my free time to be an immense improvement and would forgo none of it to sit in a stuffy cla.s.sroom. One need not attend a college to expand his intellectual horizons, and I had no intention of falling into illiteracy; I merely wanted to do what I wanted, when I wanted.
Having scored highly on my first geography exam and completed the English a.s.signments successfully gave me the confidence that I so needed, and further led me to believe that I would have otherwise been a capable student; while I suffered a physical defeat, I had not failed.
With no obligations to fulfill, my life was rejuvenated with a simplicity which could best be described as wonderful. I truly reveled in the autumn splendor and my spirit possessed a vitality which had nearly been smothered by a mere four weeks" toil and stress. My general health improved markedly as I was no longer plunging all of my energies into school"s demands. I now could heed my body"s warning to rest as needed, and thereby enjoy more fully the other areas in which my interest thrived. The thought that time was rapidly slipping by gave way, once again, to the essence of quality which had, for a while, escaped my grasp.
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Chapter 31 Depression
"It is essential to realize that no matter what type of adversity one may have to face, the ultimate self is the inner self."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Depression
When a person is told he has a terminal illness, depression is a very natural reaction. Not only does the individual have to face a disease which shall bring about weakness and failure of one"s bodily functions, but also he is obliged to acknowledge that the culmination of his life waits on his very doorstep.
For myself, it was not the fear of death which brought about various intervals of depression, but rather the realization that my dreams for the future and the reality thereof would not coincide. Occasionally, as time pa.s.sed, I would also become disheartened by the way in which the cancer was transforming my body in a visual sense. I had always taken pride in maintaining my figure for my health and appearance, and now I was helpless against the shape I was quickly becoming as the cancer grew. I was also aware of its effect internally, and exercise gradually tapered off into nonexistence. I found my lungs unable to fully inflate, and my heart beat would hover around 100 beats per minute with only mild exercise; fear would soar when I would, without warning, desperately need a bathroom.
I did not hate my life, yet when I was afflicted with nausea for hours in a day or forced to miss an antic.i.p.ated outing because of diarrhea and the need of a bathroom in close vicinity, my spirits could plummet and make me wish that death was close at hand. While those things I most valued I still possessed, the magnitude of my physical condition would surface when I would once again be harshly reminded that "normalcy" was no longer credible, as if that state of being was a rug which was being swept out from under my feet.
In addition to feeling inconvenienced by cancer, I also experienced a sense of worthlessness, although of a different sense than that which I felt upon my initial bout at age 13. When I was younger, I placed a great deal of importance upon physical attributes; consequently the post-treatment loss of all my hair, necessitating the purchase of a wig, resulted in the questioning of my parents affection. I could not understand how anyone could possibly care about a bald, rather skeletal, daughter.
My later loss of self-worth centered more on my inability to perform certain household ch.o.r.es, attend school or maintain employment. I was incapable of strenuous tasks and the fluctuations in my health were such that a steady job would be unthinkable. Since I no longer felt that I acted the part of a "good citizen," guilt quickly crept into my mind. I was living under the wing of my parents as I watched friends initiate themselves into the mainstream of societal expectations; theirs were blooming lives, while I seemed stranded in a murky, stagnant pool, simply taking up s.p.a.ce. I was eventually able to resolve this self-inadequacy through interaction with my family and friends who, I observed, did not think less of me as a person simply because I did not conform to the standard ideal of accomplishment; those with whom I had close a.s.sociation knew and accepted my weaknesses, and sought my companionship despite any inconveniences they might have had to endure because of my presence. Moreover, and possibly of foremost importance, was the fact that I finally accepted my limitations and no longer attempted to prove to myself that I could still do something for which my body was unfit; I admitted that self-restriction, or at least careful government of my activities, would allow me greater flexibility and opportunity in the long run of affairs.
It would be a lie to say that, having aged six years, I no longer fell subject to self-devaluation through a loss of physical attributes. As my waistline disappeared and my stomach began to protrude (for lack of anywhere else to go), I grew increasingly more self-conscious of my figure. Even at the outset, I considered my midsection enormous, and purchased oversized shirts to conceal what I believed to be a horrible deformity. As the liver continued to expand, for which I had been mentally prepared, I began outgrowing clothes, especially pants (due to the waistline) shortly after they were purchased. Soon I was giving pants to my mother who wore a size 12; winter coats which did not b.u.t.ton were also handed to Mom who accepted the gifts as graciously as the occasion permitted. The waist which had measured 24 inches grew to 32; the stomach protruded far beyond my bosom, a ghastly 37 inches in diameter. People began to ask innocently, "when is it due?" I could not deny it, it followed me everywhere. . . glaring at me through each piece of clothing. It bid me "good morning" and packed me to bed at night.
Perhaps one of my most distressing fears was the idea of encountering a school mate who was not aware of my health situation, and either be labeled as "pregnant" or "stout." Pregnancy out of wedlock was completely unacceptable to me; while the lack of control which would accompany mere weight gain was also a speck in my eye; I revolted against both a.s.sumptions with similar distaste and simply hoped to avoid familiar faces. If such a meeting did occur, I would generally explain my current state of affairs, although I also disliked blackening one"s day with news which was generally categorized as traumatic and distressing. When a person inquired into how I"d been spending my time, I would have to subdue my urge to devalue myself due to the impressive answers I failed to relate. As a whole, reunions were rather a blemish in my day.
As I came to identify myself not with my "deformity" or my accomplishments, but instead with my personal character, I felt more at ease in group situations.
It is essential to realize that no matter what type of adversity one may have to face, the ultimate self is the inner self. Deformities mar the surface, but they need not devastate the interior; one"s personality needs to be projected beyond the body or the face, just as it has to be expressed by the "normal" individual. A pretty face does not a.s.sure the observer of an equally beautiful personality. There will be those who will be uncomfortable in the presence of a stricken individual, but those people should be given patience and understanding; reactions are frequently simultaneous and the result of shock or immeasurable pity, not incivility or rudeness. Those few individuals who are cruel and insensitive are not worth the anger they provoke, for they are the children of ignorance and have not lived through pain and strife; for some, empathy is not inherent, it must be learned.
I also found it to my benefit if I would candidly mention my health instead of trying to conceal it like an illegal drug; I discovered that although it was difficult to hear of my misfortune, it was easier than if the burden had actually been their own.
The pervasive sadness which can strike when one grasps the reality of illness does not endure forever, unless in self-pity, one allows himself to be drawn into such an utterly oppressive mental state.
Sadness is a part of life which makes joyous moments all the more valued; man is an animal, and in so being, it is characteristic of his make-up that he feel pain and pleasure. To deny one"s feelings, or so dwell on one aspect, is to deny one"s humanness and natural traits.
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Chapter 32 Basic Day
"Autumn. . .the world was filled with sound, a veritable grand finale before the penetrating hush of winter."
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO