I don’t believe I have suffered a day of extreme anxiety or depression in my whole life. That makes me feel blessed. Since my diagnosis I have met many medical professionals, and a lot of them have an interview sheet they must go through. Do I ever feel depressed or hopeless? Do I ever contemplate self- harm or have suicidal thoughts? I have never felt the need to pause before answering all these questions in the negative.
I suppose the situation may change as my illness develops and it is never smart to rule things out. And last week, with all its symptoms and misfortunes, turned into a test of my resolve. I was certainly low for a few days, brought down by physical and emotional woes. But I have emerged from that low point now and feel almost fully restored. For that, I have many people to thank, starting with my wife and family but including many folk I know much less well and who have fewer reasons to have supported me. People are good.
I am not beating myself up for getting a bit more miserable than was healthy for me, for plenty of things went wrong, all at once. It is not at all easy to discover almost overnight that the whole left side of my body had become largely useless, and the frustration from not being able to carry out simple tasks was horrible. I was dropping things everywhere and needed help with everything. I, rightly, had to sacrifice my singing, and that felt like a decisive moment.
And, as always happens when we are vulnerable, misfortunes piled upon misfortunes. The car decided that it was the ideal time to present us with an unwelcome large bill. And then I succeeded in pouring hot water all over my laptop, rendering the keyboard and touch pad useless. A bit of depression is understandable, surely?
Still, I came through it and out of the other side, and it feels worthwhile to analyse what made the difference, in case the issue might resurface at some point. Surely the main factor was a positive development in my physical health. Dear steroids, I hate you but I love you too, and you gave me my left side back, together with all manner of everyday necessary competences. So the medical professionals are owed thanks, though not as much as my wife, who stayed calm and supportive even when the steroids were making me tough company. Thank you, my darling.
But stories often revolve around more than grand heroes. I have always marvelled at how good nearly everybody is, and this period contains some lovely examples. Trust in people and they will repay you. Most of us are just trying to make this strange world a slightly better place for everyone living in it.
Friends and family played a vital role. My sister has always been a positive influence through my illness and it feels good to have her in the team. The same is true of all our children and many in our wider families. I am fortunate that I have healthy relationships with everyone I know well.
But then there are other friends. People queued up to come and visit me when I needed company. A musician friend continued to give me his valuable time when I needed distraction. Others dropped in just to chat, even if I was a steroid-crazed man at the time. It feels good to have this support, and it will be important to build up such a network once we reach Portugal next month, a network that we can help as well as to rely on when we need help ourselves.
But my idea for this posting is to focus on other heroes. The lady who runs the car shop that we use is a true saint. Working in a rough, male-dominated field full of unscrupulous greedy operators, she is a wonder. She has always given us honest advice with our own interests at heart. Her life has had its own tragedies, yet she maintained her integrity and I am thrilled to see how she has built up a successful business. Somehow I came through the ordeal of paying up lots of money for a necessary repair feeling better rather than worse. That would not happen at many car shops.
Then there was the computer. First I took it to some kids on the high street, who were condescending and plainly only interested in fleecing me for as much as they could get. Luckily I saw through that, but I was resigned to another big bill and living without vital files for a while.
Then I started meeting good people. The next morning I just about had the energy to make it to Costco, and walked right up to an Indian guy giving computer advice, again with my interests at heart. I learned that burying the keyboard in rice might bring it back to life, and perhaps the pad too if I gave it a bit longer. And I heard honesty and possible alternative plans, including a particular Apple store that specialises in repairs. I felt better already.
The following morning I had my keyboard back, and ventured to the local Apple store. Apple are pretty mercenary so I was not optimistic. But once again I struck gold.
This time my saviour was an agent in her sixties who continued to work part-time for Apple after her retirement. She was probably the only person in the whole store who could speak my language and actually wanted too. We talked through the chances of the pad resurrecting itself (low) and moved onto other fixes. I could buy a pad, and it would bne affordable and give me my computer life back straight away.
The lady had another trick up her sleeve, which was to find her pet technician, probably the only technician there who could speak her language, leave alone mine. Quickly they teamed up and sorted me out, and, better, I felt valued rather than bitter or humiliated, which I am sure would have been the case had I stumbled upon other staff members. Of all the happy turning points restoring my spirit, having my computer back might have been most influential. And normal good people lay behind this minor miracle. Well done Apple for an enlightened employment policy.
I could mention other heroes. This week has seen a series of heartening events. Bad things pile up in clusters, but good ones do too, and I have been a major beneficiary this week. People are good, and good people are doing good things all the time. The bonus is that, usually, those people feel good themselves. There is nothing more restorative than helping somebody. I needed help, and found it in abundance, from both familiar and unlikely places.
