Get a grip!

This is a hard post to write. I keep coming back to it, wanting to say something, to vent some feelings, but then hesitating because it feels too self-indulgent. This blog is usually focused on externalities, not so much on inner feelings, but these are not normal times.

Simple truth is, I’ve not been doing too good these past few days.

The realization came during the week when one of my team leads talked about their regular team check-in that day. One of the team mentioned having difficulty sleeping. The events in America dragged up memories of personal experience of racial abuse. In talking it through, other members of the team opened up and shared their own stories. It turned out every single one of them, in one way or another, was struggling to process what is going on in the world at the moment, especially in the US.

At the team leads level, we wondered how much more distress was lying hidden beneath the surface among ourselves and our colleagues. In discussing the emotional impact of extraordinary stories, one after another, day after day, I found myself overwhelmed with emotion.

And I realized, I’m not okay.

That feeling of being overwhelmed and helpless persists. It reawakens with every new story of someone somewhere getting hurt or abused. I am fortunate that it’s not affecting my sleep - yet - but I struggle to focus on anything productive during my waking hours, and tears are never far from the surface.

I am struggling with anguish at the scenes of violence, both on the mob and the individual level. I despair at the peaceful protests turning ugly, often through deliberate instigation of people who have no interest in the protestors’ message. And I am brimming over with anger at the attempts by the powerful to bully a population into submission.

The world has gone mad.

Underlying that is a long-held fury at the systemic abuse of power the 1% “haves” wield over the 99% by the open manipulation of levers of power in their favor, whether it’s passing legislation that favors their rich donors, healthcare and other benefits they award themselves while denying others the same, gerrymandering and manipulating election practices to hamper voting by those they don’t want to have a voice, and a host of other dirty tricks.

This is a bubble that has been waiting to burst.

There is no excuse for the many acts we’ve seen the police commit over the past week.

Equally, there is no excuse for rioting and looting.

Then again, there is no excuse for the deeply-entrenched attitude that the color of a person’s skin entitles one person to set themselves above another. That is the real pandemic that bedevils the world.

What happened to humanity?

I was planning on lining up more posts on worldbuilding, but the last week has left me feeling like normal rational life has taken its leave of this continent.

We have a spate of bombs through the mail, and then Pittsburgh - to add to all the other mass shootings this year. But what is most sickening is that, rather than genuine calls for strength and unity and compassion, the loudest voices on both sides of the divide are racing each other to the bottom of the sewer dredging the depths for any political capital they can gain.

I think I’m going to unplug from the Internet until after November 6, because right now a large slice of humanity has lost its humanity.

BTW - comments are off, 'nuff said

Queen of Trumps

I thought the madness would die down once the election was over. How naive of me. The news these days seems to reach new heights of silliness daily with no end in sight, but on the basis that you gotta laugh or else you'll cry, here's something that made me smile this week...

There's a whole album of similar nightmare fodder on Instagram here.

MIA due to TIA

I paused a while before posting this, then I decided that not many people visit this blog anyway, and the ones who do so regularly I like to regard as friends. This is something I choose to share with friends.

Thursday night I had a serious wake-up call. I suffered a minor stroke - a Transient Ischemic Attack.

As such things go, a TIA is quick and leaves no lasting damage. But it is a warning - not to be ignored - of possibly more to come.

The event itself was strange and disconcerting. I was about to drive Matthew downtown but hadn't yet left the house, which was frighteningly lucky.

I turned to put something down on the stairs, and was surprised to see this strange arm reach around in front of me. I turned to see who was there...nobody. But...there was that arm again. It took me a few seconds to recognize it as my own. The recognition was purely visual and intellectual, there was no feeling of ownership there. I felt utterly disconnected from what I was seeing.

That scared me, and told me that something was wrong. I called for help. My voice came out slurred. That's when I suspected a stroke.

The ambulance arrived a short while later, and while the paramedics checked me over and asked lots of questions, the symptoms evaporated leaving me shaken but unharmed.

Off in the ambulance for a long evening of more questions and tests. All clear - whew! - but leaving one huge big elephantine question unanswered: what next?

So, now I'm walking around gingerly, trying to avoid stress and exertion, feeling like I'm carrying a ticking bomb in my head. I haven't yet figured out how to come to terms with that or what in practical terms I can do about it. And of course my family is freaked out.

To put things into perspective, though, we all carry our ticking bombs around with us with a greater or lesser chance of setting them off. And I must have been carrying this one with me for a long time. I just didn't realize it until Thursday. This could be just the first of many episodes leading up to a serious and lasting stroke, or I might never experience anything like this again. I just don't know.

Meanwhile, I'm treating this as one of those perspective-altering moments, time to decide and act on what is really important in my life...while trying to persuade everyone around me that I'm not a bloody invalid!

I don't like Mondays

Sorry The Bald Patch has been unusually quiet lately, but I haven't been in the mood for posting. It's not been the best month.

Three weeks ago today, a close friend of the family died suddenly. He will be greatly missed by all of us.

Ali agreed to take on his dog, a husky called Toby. We've looked after Toby many times before and always been careful to keep him separated from the cats, but never had a problem. The following Monday, Tubbs failed to come in for dinner. We were worried but could do nothing about it. The following morning, we found him dead in the back yard. Toby had caught him.

Last Monday, both the kids were ill, but recovered well and life seemed to be getting back to normal. Then on Friday we read about the tragedy in Connecticut. This news hit unusually hard. I just keep imagining a whole class from our own elementary school torn away, and I feel cold inside.

Today, while taking some special needs kids from her school out for a treat, Ali had her purse stolen. Happy Christmas, whoever you are.

This evening, the world just feels surreal. I know it's irrational, but it feels like the overtures of a bigger storm to come. Our hold on life and civilization feels especially fragile and vulnerable right now.

Sorry again. I don't mean to write a gloomy post. I'm looking for reasons to be cheerful, and open to suggestions...

Multiple whammy!

This has not been the best of weeks.

A couple of weekends ago, Ali comes back from a friend's house with a fish tank that her friend no longer wants. "What are you going to do with that?" I ask. Silly question. Kids all excited at the idea of adding to the household menagerie, and in come two guppies.

Two days later, Megan's dies. Very upsetting, but soon a carbon copy is installed (hmm...could you really make a carbon copy of a carbon-based life form?) and all is well.

Until this week.

Tuesday (again) kids return from school to find Megan's guppy dead (again). "I hate Tuesdays," she sniffles.

Wednesday, Matthew's joins it in the great fish bowl in the sky.

Wednesday, also, is a grim day at work. My Ministry is shedding over 200 jobs as part of "transformation", another word for cost-cutting for those to whom the only costs worth counting are financial. Unionised staff got their letters on Wednesday, including people in danger of being "bumped" under the union rules for clinging on to long-serving people at the expense of the new blood essential for the future. Many offices severely slashed, including some friends and valued colleagues of mine.

The best bit is, we now know there are a load of non-union (that's me!) redundancies still to be announced, but not until next week. Keep sweating guys!

Thursday, Ali finds one of our cats, Princess, looking ill and in pain. Rushes her off to the vet, worried about a road hit. If only it was that simple. No signs of trauma, possibility of poisoning or some kind of infection.

Friday, she is no better I take her back and then sign her in to the vetinary hospital downtown. Lots of waiting around. Urine sample shows protein and other stuff that shouldn't be there, and red blood cells getting sticky & clumping. Not good signs, but too many possible underlying causes for any certainty of treatment.

Sunday, we could be looking at pancreatic cancer, but still not positive.

The cost of all this would be worrying at the best of times, but this has come at the worst possible time on top of all the uncertainty at work.

Not made any progress on writing this week. I just can't get enthusiastic about anything like that right now. But we now have two zebra fish, still going strong!