Ok, I know this is a blog about my life on the Spectrum, but today I have to dip into the political arena, just a bit. And heck, this is my blog, so I can and shall do as I please. :)
For those that have their heads buried under a pillow or have spent the last week sipping mai tais on a deserted beach without electricity, Andrew Breitbart passed away of a heart attack just after midnight on March 1, 2012. Political activist that fought the machine for all he was worth, laughed in the face of the copious amounts of hate that was piled on him, fearless defender of America and of all new media people seeking to find the truth, he was also a beloved husband and father of four, who will be greatly missed.
Now, not being a political blogger or a mover and shaker in that arena, I never met him. And still his vision, strength, kindness, and sheer guts impressed me greatly, and I am still having a hard time believing he is gone. I can't imagine how badly the many, many people who knew him feel if I am still shaky about it. There are many. MANY good videos and blog entries about him, but I encourage you highly to read this post (about Andrew Breitbart, which shows his interests were many and varied) from an EXCELLENT site about Autism and source for good information, Rethinking Autism.
In a future post I will write why I like the blog Rethinking Autism and am not so much a fan of Autism Speaks, but that is for the future.
Today, what interests me is whether I, indeed, have the guts to be Andrew Breitbart.
Do I have the strength to stand up against the narrative, knowing full well I will alienate friends and family in the process? Do I have the determination to blog regularly, do research, and be consistent? Do I have the ability to write well enough, charismatically enough, to make a difference?
In other words, can I channel even the smallest portion of the legacy of Andrew Breitbart and join the thousands of others who share the same vision of America, the same understanding of the culture war and the outright collusion between government and the media, and are frankly sick and tired of letting the narrative be taken away from us? Am I, finally, ready to stand with these bloggers and start fighting back?
I'd like to say I do it in little ways. I vote. I am clear about what I believe and don't shy away from it. But I don't invite or incite political discussion either.
But maybe, just maybe, it is time. Because as Steve Green points out in this Trifecta episode, it is time to start speaking.
Do I have a voice? Breitbart would have said yes. He then would have cracked open a bottle of wine, sat down, and showed me exactly how.
We are all Breitbart now. We have to be. Because the cost is too high not to do it.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Holy Moly, has it really been that long?
I swear, I have no idea how a month slipped by between posts. I really don't. Perhaps because taking care of my Dad has sucked up so much time and energy? Or, maybe it is because I am spending so much time running and working out? Or do I perhaps just not have anything to say?
Or maybe, just maybe, I suck at blogging. :)
Anyway, with a strong desire to post something and in lieu of anything better to say, I give you this. The Erudite Sister put it on my FB wall. Because if you can't laugh at yourself...
May God bless us all, especially those of us with that insane Aspie brain he created...
Or maybe, just maybe, I suck at blogging. :)
Anyway, with a strong desire to post something and in lieu of anything better to say, I give you this. The Erudite Sister put it on my FB wall. Because if you can't laugh at yourself...
May God bless us all, especially those of us with that insane Aspie brain he created...
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Aspie as a Caretaker, ie why it has been almost four months since my last post
Hello everyone--
First, I am humbly ashamed, and quite chagrined, that it has been so long since my last blog post. I've not forgotten you all, I promise. These past few months have been filled with activities that both are keeping me busy, and in one case, draining a goodly amount of my emotional energy every day. And THAT is going to be the subject of this post.
First, for those that don't know, the Erudite Mom has thyroid cancer. She's been battling the stubborn beast for 4 years now, and during the end of September through the holidays she was dealing with surgery and Radioactive Iodine treatment. I have taken care of her during this time. It is really much like tending for a child--you do all the cooking, cleaning, errands. Fortunately for me, my mother is undemanding and gracious. And praise God, she is feeling much better now. Though I may let out a gusty sigh when I have to empty the dishwasher yet AGAIN, being a caretaker for my mom was as easy as such things get.
Not so with my father.
I got a call the day after Thanksgiving from my Cousin informing me that Dad was in the hospital in emergency surgery. Now, I knew my dad had issues and was seeing the doctor. I was NOT prepared for it to get as bad as it did, as fast as it did, and put him into surgery. Summarizing, my Dad had Charcot's disease in his left foot, meaning that all the bones in foot are soft, and they fractured. Plus, he had several diabetic ulcers. To make life more fun, his talus bone slipped out of one of the ulcers, got exposed to air, got infected, and managed to infect his entire foot before the bone itself died. I'll spare the rest of the details, but let's just say that my dad's left foot and lower leg is in an external fixator called a Ilizarov frame (google yourself for pictures, they are slightly disturbing if you are squeamish so I don't want to link here) to hold it all in place, is non weight bearing, and will be for several more months. His right foot isn't much better, as it also has Charcot's disease and can only handle his considerable weight for the briefest amounts of time, like transferring from bed to wheelchair.
Although since November he has been in the hospital or in a Rehabilitation center, on Tuesday afternoon he is going home, complete with the necessary equipment and professional help to get him started. I am going to be in charge of feeding him his low fat diabetic diet and making sure he does his PT every day. Tomorrow and every Monday will be spent cooking a week's worth of food that can be heated up or eaten cold, as he can't cook.
I am sure you can imagine the rounds of Rehab visits, PT training visits (which was actually interesting for my exercise, science oriented brain), doctor's visits, errands, questions asked, phone calls, etc I have had to do. And with him at home, I face yet more.
Now, this normally would be fairly exhausting, but I am unemployed. I have all the time in the world, right? And I'm tough, capable of prioritizing my time to the Nth degree and working hard with a purpose to get all accomplished. I'm GOOD at this.
Except when faced with a father like mine. A man who doesn't listen to half of what I say, ask half of what I need to know, or pay any attention at all. A father who is in this situation ONLY because of bad decisions he has made in his life. A father who has no problem lying to everyone around him to get what he wants. A father who has no problem lying to medical staff right in front of me if it will save face, even at the cost of making me look cruel or incompetent. A passive aggressive father who will flat out lie to your face in order to get you to shut up and then goes off and does whatever he wants.
My Neurotypical friends, imagine how this would make you feel. Tearing your hair out yet?
Now multiply that feeling by a thousand, and you might understand how hard it is on the Aspie.
And this isn't going to end anytime soon, it will be well over a year (since they have to operate and put an external fixator on his right leg when the left leg is done) before he is healed, and he is always going to have troubles walking. If he is lucky, and CAN walk again. It's a horrible thing. Moral of the story, if you are diabetic: WATCH YOUR DIET AND CHECK YOUR FEET.
So, I just have to get used to this. Realistically, it is way easier on me than those last few years working for Salinas Public Library were on the emotional front. I also have the support of the Erudite Mom and Erudite Siblings, which helps to no end.
And when I get too stressed out, I just go out for a run. There is a reason I run half marathons.
So pray for Dad, and pray for me, and I hereby promise to post more often. As always, if you have a topic, put it in the comments!
God bless you all,
EA
First, I am humbly ashamed, and quite chagrined, that it has been so long since my last blog post. I've not forgotten you all, I promise. These past few months have been filled with activities that both are keeping me busy, and in one case, draining a goodly amount of my emotional energy every day. And THAT is going to be the subject of this post.
First, for those that don't know, the Erudite Mom has thyroid cancer. She's been battling the stubborn beast for 4 years now, and during the end of September through the holidays she was dealing with surgery and Radioactive Iodine treatment. I have taken care of her during this time. It is really much like tending for a child--you do all the cooking, cleaning, errands. Fortunately for me, my mother is undemanding and gracious. And praise God, she is feeling much better now. Though I may let out a gusty sigh when I have to empty the dishwasher yet AGAIN, being a caretaker for my mom was as easy as such things get.
Not so with my father.
I got a call the day after Thanksgiving from my Cousin informing me that Dad was in the hospital in emergency surgery. Now, I knew my dad had issues and was seeing the doctor. I was NOT prepared for it to get as bad as it did, as fast as it did, and put him into surgery. Summarizing, my Dad had Charcot's disease in his left foot, meaning that all the bones in foot are soft, and they fractured. Plus, he had several diabetic ulcers. To make life more fun, his talus bone slipped out of one of the ulcers, got exposed to air, got infected, and managed to infect his entire foot before the bone itself died. I'll spare the rest of the details, but let's just say that my dad's left foot and lower leg is in an external fixator called a Ilizarov frame (google yourself for pictures, they are slightly disturbing if you are squeamish so I don't want to link here) to hold it all in place, is non weight bearing, and will be for several more months. His right foot isn't much better, as it also has Charcot's disease and can only handle his considerable weight for the briefest amounts of time, like transferring from bed to wheelchair.
Although since November he has been in the hospital or in a Rehabilitation center, on Tuesday afternoon he is going home, complete with the necessary equipment and professional help to get him started. I am going to be in charge of feeding him his low fat diabetic diet and making sure he does his PT every day. Tomorrow and every Monday will be spent cooking a week's worth of food that can be heated up or eaten cold, as he can't cook.
I am sure you can imagine the rounds of Rehab visits, PT training visits (which was actually interesting for my exercise, science oriented brain), doctor's visits, errands, questions asked, phone calls, etc I have had to do. And with him at home, I face yet more.
Now, this normally would be fairly exhausting, but I am unemployed. I have all the time in the world, right? And I'm tough, capable of prioritizing my time to the Nth degree and working hard with a purpose to get all accomplished. I'm GOOD at this.
Except when faced with a father like mine. A man who doesn't listen to half of what I say, ask half of what I need to know, or pay any attention at all. A father who is in this situation ONLY because of bad decisions he has made in his life. A father who has no problem lying to everyone around him to get what he wants. A father who has no problem lying to medical staff right in front of me if it will save face, even at the cost of making me look cruel or incompetent. A passive aggressive father who will flat out lie to your face in order to get you to shut up and then goes off and does whatever he wants.
My Neurotypical friends, imagine how this would make you feel. Tearing your hair out yet?
Now multiply that feeling by a thousand, and you might understand how hard it is on the Aspie.
And this isn't going to end anytime soon, it will be well over a year (since they have to operate and put an external fixator on his right leg when the left leg is done) before he is healed, and he is always going to have troubles walking. If he is lucky, and CAN walk again. It's a horrible thing. Moral of the story, if you are diabetic: WATCH YOUR DIET AND CHECK YOUR FEET.
So, I just have to get used to this. Realistically, it is way easier on me than those last few years working for Salinas Public Library were on the emotional front. I also have the support of the Erudite Mom and Erudite Siblings, which helps to no end.
And when I get too stressed out, I just go out for a run. There is a reason I run half marathons.
So pray for Dad, and pray for me, and I hereby promise to post more often. As always, if you have a topic, put it in the comments!
God bless you all,
EA
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Thank you, Steve Jobs
As an Aspie, I think one of the hardest lessons we have to learn is that if we try to do something that is contrary to what our brains can handle, we fail. I thought about being a teacher, but though I wasn't horrible, I failed at it. I was a darn good librarian, but for various reasons listed in previous posts, I am not doing that anymore either. So I sit at 35 and am starting all over again.
And I think of Steve Jobs. Who never graduated from college. Who was publicly and humiliatingly fired from Apple. And I think of Steve Jobs, who learned from failure and moved on. Steve Jobs, who was also true to the beat of his internal drummer. Steve, who rather than dwell on the past and let it stop him, moved on and became, well, the comparisons are many. The Edison, the Henry Ford, the Einstein of his generation.
What he did, quite simply, is transform the world. A college drop out who did not float up the ladder of success on a cloud but rather was kicked off a few times but ALWAYS got back on and kept moving. Steve Jobs and the other creative geniuses at Apple revolutionized the way we think, the way we do, the way we communicate. Our daily lives run the way they do because of what Steve Jobs created. And the rest of the world--the Androids and the PCs of this world, they all just emulate what Apple did and is doing better and first.
And Pixar, Pixar changed the world of movies forever.
Really, can any greater legacy be left behind?
I won't change the world, but I do hope to change my little part of it. And I will stay true to what my heart tells me is right. I will also strive, and it is hard, to not let the past drag me down or discourage me.
Thank you, Steve Jobs, for the MacBook I use to type this, and the iPad I used in the hospital waiting room, and the iPod I use as I train for half marathons. More importantly, thanks for teaching the world that the greatest failures lead so very often to the greatest successes. Your life is an encouragement to us all.
You will be missed, but you will never be forgotten.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Meltdowns, or when the Aspie takes over the brain
Hello everyone--
This is the story of my last major Aspie Meltdown. If this sounds familiar to you, whether you are on the Autism Spectrum or not, please comment below, anonymously if you need to. It's easier when you share.
Last week I went to go pick up my brother at the Sacramento Airport. First, there was the slight difficulty of finding him, but it is a small airport so I figured it shouldn't be too hard. My first time around, a car was parked at the curb and the security guy was standing at its window, they had a space in front, so I signaled and started to pull into the curb. As I did this, the car pulled forward, and there was almost an accident. Then the security guy had the gall to knock on my window and tell me to be careful. I should have just ignored it but I said excuse me, I did nothing wrong, tell the car that almost hit me to be careful, shouldn't you be concerned ABOUT me for almost getting hit? He raised his voice at me and threatened to write me a ticket. I rolled up my window on him (I didn't see my brother and knew I had to keep driving), and when he knocked on the window I ignored him. When I came past again (I had to circle three more times trying to find my brother which seriously added to my stress) he found me again and told me the same thing again. I said look, this is what happened, you can see I am being slow and careful, leave me alone. By this time I was frustrated because I couldn't find my brother and already pre-meltdown. with the breath catching and the tears forming and the brain not working. I finally said look, I am trying to find my brother, I know his flight arrived, I have Asperger's and I am on the verge, please just stop.
To his credit he did turn nice at this point and told me I could park at the curb for a few minutes if I had to, then told me where my brother should be, I was in slightly the wrong place. Soon after that I found my brother and he said where have you been, I've been waiting for an hour! I said, well I circled 4 times and I didn't see you. At that point, my brain pretty much exploded. I was crying, shaking, and I had a hard time breathing, and I could not THINK. My brain literally froze, I couldn't form a single coherent thought. My brother was what's the big deal I'm in the car everything is OK now, and I was said I am an Aspie, I am having an Aspie moment, just deal, and be nice to me as I get past this, PLEASE. My brother is so confident and so disinclined to react emotionally to anything (he HAS strong emotions, he doesn't react emotionally) that those of us who have moments of weakness and stress baffle him completely. I did finally calm down (and my brother did volunteer to drive which was kind of him but once I was out of the airport I was fine), but it took me several minutes to get back to normal.
I felt so STUPID because I have traveled internationally (I flew into Hong Kong alone at the age of 23 and met up with people I had met only once and didn't speak the same language, though they were wonderful to me and I love them dearly, where I then went to teach in China for a year), gone through customs and dealt with situations much more stressful than this with no problems at all. I worked full time, went to graduate school full time, trained for a marathon, and prepared for major surgery all at the same time in the Spring of 2004 without a single meltdown of any kind. Sometimes, though, the wrong button is pushed and I just can't hold it together. I hate it, I hate being an Aspie, I hate that no matter how confident and smart and capable and as much of a problem solver as I am I am, I have moments where my my brain simply melts, the Aspie kicks in, and all the balls get dropped, I don't know what to do, and I cease to be able to function or do anything but panic.
What it is like--one part of your brain is logical and rational and saying this is no big deal, you can handle this, nothing is really wrong, everything is fine now, get over it. And the rest of my brain is in meltdown mode and I have no control over it at all. It's SO frustrating.
And though I am proud of the person I am, these are the moments I HATE being an Aspie. I HATE not having the control. And I struggle because when it is over, the biggest thing I feel is...
Shame.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
True Friendship: it is possible for an Aspie
There are times when I am utterly amazed that I actually have friends. I know this sounds odd, but as an Aspie, you tend to inadvertently make so many mistakes, so many social faux pas, that you automatically assume you will eventually insult and turn away anyone who was ever a friend to you. That was my life, really, for all of high school and college.
Then, in my mid twenties, I met my best girl friend ever (and yes, I know how teenager that sounds). She's been my friend for 10 years now and I cherish her friendship, as well as rely on it. She's been there for me through all the hills and valleys of life, and I hope I've been there for her. It could be because she and I tend to be just a bit 'off' in so many of the same ways that we are friends, but hey, it works! She also introduced me to craft beer, a gift for which I can never repay her.
I also want to mention and give credit to three of my friends and former coworkers who have known me since I started working for Salinas Public Library. They have truly been supportive and caring and just wonderful through all the hell I went through. One of them, after I spent at least an hour venting and complaining about how tough my situation was and apologized afterwards for being so rude, simply said that is what friends are for. We listen. My other friend, understanding I am an Aspie, makes it a point to tell me things ahead of time if she thinks that they might come out in a time or place to cause me anxiety. The third not only does his best to cheer me up and make me laugh, but when I finally was officially unemployed, he packed up my entire cubicle and brought it my apartment for me so I wouldn't have to deal with going back into a building that caused me so much stress. I am staggered by the kindness they have all shown me.
And here, I mention only four people. There are several others who have proven their deep and abiding friendship to me over and over. There are times I still wake up and think, how do I deserve this? I still sometimes wonder if maybe it will all be taken away.
But my friends? True and faithful, they understand me, and have stuck with me through the thick and thin of the last few years. I sometimes feel like the luckiest person alive. Friendship is a gift from God and I have been lavishly blessed.
So to all of them I say, thanks. For being my friend.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Erudite Aspie in transition
I know it has been a few weeks since I have written anything, and I beg your indulgence for another few weeks. I am deep in moving mode, and the practical aspects of it are easily done (make a list, do the list, voila!), I'm struggling with the emotional aspects of the move.
I'm leaving so much behind that I love--church, friends, weather, and having my own apartment. I am going to some good stuff--I will be living with and caring for the Erudite Mom as she struggles with cancer and that is no hardship and indeed a pleasure (plus I'll get a great deal on rent). I also will be living quite a bit closer to one of my closest friends. The weather is awful, but the neighborhood will be safe for running at night and is in fact a great place to run in general. These are the things I try to focus on--but overall the bad of the move outweighs the good. Life doesn't give out exactly what you want, though, and sometimes all the paths narrow down to one. I have to believe that God has a purpose and a plan for this. I can't say what it is, but I live my life by faith, so why not live my future by faith too? And if I get choked up here and there, well, it's part of the process.
9 days out from moving day. Then I'll have a couple of weeks of packing, organizing, caring for mom post surgery, and running my fourth half marathon with a friend (woohoo!). I promise to be back after that point with another amazing, hard hitting, investigative blog entry.
In the meantime I leave you this link--the results you get from a search on Etsy for 'autism'. What interests me most are the weighted blankets. I need to research what the purpose is of those...and that will be for a post after I am done transitioning.
God bless you all,
EA
I'm leaving so much behind that I love--church, friends, weather, and having my own apartment. I am going to some good stuff--I will be living with and caring for the Erudite Mom as she struggles with cancer and that is no hardship and indeed a pleasure (plus I'll get a great deal on rent). I also will be living quite a bit closer to one of my closest friends. The weather is awful, but the neighborhood will be safe for running at night and is in fact a great place to run in general. These are the things I try to focus on--but overall the bad of the move outweighs the good. Life doesn't give out exactly what you want, though, and sometimes all the paths narrow down to one. I have to believe that God has a purpose and a plan for this. I can't say what it is, but I live my life by faith, so why not live my future by faith too? And if I get choked up here and there, well, it's part of the process.
9 days out from moving day. Then I'll have a couple of weeks of packing, organizing, caring for mom post surgery, and running my fourth half marathon with a friend (woohoo!). I promise to be back after that point with another amazing, hard hitting, investigative blog entry.
In the meantime I leave you this link--the results you get from a search on Etsy for 'autism'. What interests me most are the weighted blankets. I need to research what the purpose is of those...and that will be for a post after I am done transitioning.
God bless you all,
EA
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