Life’s lessons come to us while trying to survive, and the challenges bestow insight. The scientific community refers to this as learned behaviors. They are an accumulation of our being that is not biological. Maybe, they are not in our genetics, but do play a primary role in psyche. For the most part increasing our brainpower, and at times leaving a scar. An open-minded approach to our life can minimize scarring, and elevate our experience while we are alive.
A baby learns to cry, and then learns to use it to their advantage quickly. This phenomenon occurs in the animal realm and Humanity’s, it is how the planet works, learned behavior. Every day is a challenge, and an organic module packed with lessons teaching us the things to remember, that we must.
Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experiences of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired and success achieved. ~ Helen Keller, (1880-1968)
The final lessons are much more refined than a baby‘s initial lesson.
Sharing these insightful nuggets is not easy as most apparently enjoy learning them themselves. Learning these lessons thoroughly for all enlightenment available is intriguing. To add oomph to this we will benefit by other’s perspective from the personal experience or specialized knowledge.
I have a penchant for interviewing those in the know, and it is refreshing to be part of that group this time. I will locate some upper classmen who know more than I do, and some who may not be quite as advanced. Surely, this is going to be enlightening for my readers, and that is my purpose.
The premise is not unique, but the new views will be, so enjoy my work while considering the facts. I understood many things now that I did not back in my youth. I hear people say, “I wish I knew then what I know now” or “Wow, I did not see that coming!” These lessons are why we wise ones see it coming. This is useful information and it might help someone before his or her final classes begin, that would be cool. Let’s dig in.
Chapter 1-The Rage, it comes after denial.
In hindsight the effects of the doctor’s prognosis was shockingly mild. Something that could be thirty-years down the road seemed surreal at 22. Dying is a catalyst for many emotional states; the first for me was denial. Procrastination is a tool for avoiding the hurdles, and life taught us that. It is more comfortable to wait until you cannot wait any longer, its how many of us work. The nastiest duties rank top priority for things to put off until tomorrow, and things we deny sit in Limbo.
Facing up to an impossibly high hurdle is best to forget, until we must fall on our face. When jumping the death hurdle that nobody clears that hurdle, but Jesus. His Earth life was for communication, we are humans and do fare near as well.
When the doctor saw me that morning in 1983 he blanched at the bright orange jaundice covering my 22-year old body. “How long have you been ill Coleman?”
“About three weeks”
“You have been vomiting and suffering diarrhea for three weeks”
“Yes sir”
“Why did you not come in sooner?”
“I could not miss work”
“Well, your workmates might wish you came in sooner, you obviously have contracted Hepatitis, and your entire household needs to be immunized, it can be very contagious”
My wife and children went to the doctor and I went home to rest. They came home relieved they did not need the shots. I had been working construction as laborer and could not return without the doctors O.K. I went home and felt better just being able to be sick in private, the construction site was not the place to suffer the incredibly strong illness. Later I learned I would have died if I kept it up. My body gradually relaxed and the symptoms decreased, but hung on doggedly in it‘s diminished form. After a week, I went back for my follow-up and the doctor explained my hepatitis was not infectious, but it would never go away. The hepatitis could be forgotten and for the most part better, but some day it would kill me. Sure enough, some symptoms left, and others diminished sufficiently to allow me to return to work.
This may sound crazy, but I liked to work hard, I had since I was a boy and it was weight training, all day, everyday. I lost this past time, I learned to slow down, and so I would not become nauseous. I learned to respect my new perimeters and forgot about being sick, for the most part. I never regained my power, but I could work.
I was always lightheaded, and insignificant things provoked nausea that did not before. It began with a flush of heat on the face, and then a bubble of a belch that would warn it was time to run somewhere private. I learned to persevere, and had newfound respect for my job, I was not what I used to be, and life taught me to slow down to survive. Before this, I liked leaving a job to punish my employers, now it was a privilege to work, between rushing for privacy from time to time. I learned to respect an employer that could overlook this new handicap, and gave the best days I could. It was not as death was imminent. I was not the site wild-man any longer. I became accustomed to ignoring it, and in time forgot about it. So I accepted diminished capacity and my family forgot it even faster. For thirty-years and me forgetting it was best, everybody dies is a long time. Time does not affect the outcome; it just keeps affecting your perspective. I learned what some of my favorite athletes knew, as Quarterback Brett Favre said, “Pain is mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it don’t matter” I do not know if he was first to say that, but it is profound.
During this time my body complained, I broke a bone in my spine, developed an Arrhythmia, and its companion, High Blood pressure. I worked, and went to bed after dinner for many years, babying my ever-growing list of conditions. All of them plaguing me in unison were a very challenging force to ignore.
These are all common maladies that many ignore; life taught us how to survive them. The accident that broke my backbone also ruptured several discs in the lumbar, they did not regenerate and the pain was fierce. Eventually worker’s comp came into to play. When the surgeon reviewed my x-rays and me and disco graph MRI for surgery he shook his head and seemed dismayed,
“Coleman, the suture would be 14 inches long and there are no guarantees you will walk as well as you do now, I know it hurts, but I cannot guarantee your pain will not worsen from surgery.” He counseled me to avoid surgery.
“I don’t know how you are doing so well, but if I were you I would not let anyone open up that back and graft anything, or even disturb those nerves.”
My learned behavior enabled me to proceed with my survival instincts and walking without a cane or becoming wheelchair bound, and I heeded the advice and ran as fast as I could home. If you don’t mind, it don’t matter.
Now, let’s talk about the rage, for me it occurred after fifteen years of tolerating and trying to work in sales. When I became tired, and my stomach burned for a few years everyday, I knew what was a lot closer, it had been almost 28 years. When I saw it was in my living room instead of “Down the road“, I expected help, not denial from others. Someday I would learn to appreciate my family and friends denial, it eased their pain. After the rage, that I could not let loose on my loved ones, but Social Security peeved me greatly.
After being rated handicapped in 2000, I by-passed the disablement program and used my own money to build a business, that was wiped out in the great recession. Oddly, the administration had my files, but I had worked, my rewards for struggling, suffering, and ultimately losing it all was grand scale obtuseness, that enraged me. It was a challenge to dismiss the hate, and enjoy what was left of my time, but I am managing.
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