Choices

I walked into a discussion today between two acquaintances. One of them was mentioning that his wife was a social worker and the conversation eventually wended its way, as most random discussions do, onto an unusual subject - women who ply their trade in the "oldest profession".

The universal attitude was unsurprisingly one of derision and condemnation. To be honest, that would have been my reaction as well but I decided to stop and think about it for a bit. People don't generally go for this sort of work without good reason. I'll put it to you this way - go ask any child the innocuous question of what they want to be when they grow up and I'll bet you you won't find a single one who'll say that this is what they want to do. Why? Well, consider the following:

1. Massive health risks
2. Massive physical risks
3. Societal stigma
4. Criminal record
5. Limited employment period (only while beauty lasts)

So why do people do it? It normally boils down to one thing: money. However, the risks don't outweigh the benefits in the long run. So, again, why do people do it? Here, I think we get closer to the truth: money and desperation. It's a way for the hopeless and the disenfranchised to earn good money. In some cases, it's perceived as the only way to earn money for some segments of society.

Thankfully, I have never ever been in a position where I had to consider the possibility of plying the trade to stay alive. It's not a normal question that we ask ourselves.

So why do we pour such derision, such distaste and disapproval of such folks? Is it wrong? I believe so. But given that it's not a choice that any of us would willingly take, why do we choose to cast these unfortunates out, to ostracize and brand them pariahs when we know full well that it wasn't a choice they willingly took?

Fear...and redemption

Regular readers will know that I have had medical issues for some time. Close friends of mine will know that there are two issues troubling me, one of which is the Condition that I'm being treated for, the other involves my eyes where I've repeatedly gone under the knife for over the past decade and a half.

This year is shaping up to be a scary one; if everything goes as planned, I'll probably be having at least one surgery, perhaps up to three. One surgery is going to arrest (and hopefully reverse but not completely) an issue that is making me slowly blind in one eye. The other ones are all Condition-related.

I remember when I was young and healthy - surgery was what old people and distant relatives went through. Now, having been operated upon quite a number of times, I will admit that the fear is still very much there but there's a certain grim determination to just get it over with so that I can get on with my life.

I received the first set of supplies needed in preparation for one of my surgeries today. I'm going through and checking them against the shipping manifest with that determined grimness above, knowing full well that the road to recovery is going take nearly a year post-op. It's one thing to know you're going under the knife but it's quite another to see and hold supplies in your hand that you're going to use during a painful recovery.

Do I want to undergo these treatments? To my surprise, the answer is yes. As horrible as it may be, I just want to be healthy again and to avoid surgery merely means putting off the inevitable.

There is a certain calmness that comes from that special mix of deep primal fear coupled with a profound sense of rightness. I'm going through a fearful time knowing that there will be intense protracted pain but my redemption lies in focusing on the fact that there will be healthy normality at the end.

Deep Blue

I tend to be pretty high energy these days but every now and then, I do fall into a deep funk. I'm not normally a depressive type - when I'm down, there's usually a good reason and I snap out of it either within hours or at worst the next day.

I do understand depression; folks like me tend to be depressed as a side-effect of our Condition, but this goes away as we are treated. Since my full treatment began nearly a year ago, the mind-killing depression has gone away almost completely. I say almost because there's still quite a ways to go before the treatment's fully done. What I have seen of it is quite an amazing change though.

Condition and its treatment aside, life still happens. The past month and a half or so have been particularly stressful and today was probably one of the two sharp spikes of peaking stress I've experienced thus far. Compared to other times in the past, perhaps it's not as bad but I've been feeling very worn around the edges for some time, so my immunity to changes is very very low. I know this for a fact because an area of the treatment for my Condition have been excruciatingly painful lately, far far more than it ever has been.

I'll be honest here - I had second thoughts about posting this entry. Depression isn't something you blog about, leastways not if you don't want it to haunt your future when your online identity is compromised. Having said that, I'm not exactly whining about it - this isn't an entry about "oh no poor me I'm so blue". I know I'm blue now but I also know things will be better in the morning. Depression seems to have a social stigma...but it's a part of everyone's life, young or old, rich or poor, single or partnered. Hiding that fact it exists, that it can strike the healthiest, most well-adjusted person is just dumb and won't solve anything.

Am I depressed right now? Yes, and I even know which particular stressor pushed me down this path. But I'll snap out of it in the morning. I believe that accepting it as a normal, transient condition is the healthy approach. Your thoughts?

Having said all that, I still hate it when it happens during a bout of insomnia. :(