TheBodyChallenge

Off-Road -> The Cracks

Posted by piermar2 on March 13, 2024
Posted in: Culture, Doctors, Insights, Post-Rehab, TheBodyChallenge, TheMindChallenge.

No Man’s Land (Beyond Regular Communication)
[Could be “no woman’s land” and “no child’s land” – and all of the other animals, plants (I was just told of  Stefano Mancuso’s work), and what we, in an easy way, call “nature.”
A lot of people do try their best to do their very best. This is not what this is about.]


We speak, like on a freeway, we honk, wave, flash our lights and move forward, until… we don’t.
It is NOT “the road less traveled” – it is just “something” less talked about. Something we cannot “just discuss” – even friends listen without necessarily getting it, so yes doctors and nurses, surprisingly even less.

Beyond the words, beyond the diagnostics, the visual evidence, the charts and the scales, there is something else.

That is where I am, and what I want to address as pointedly/directly as possible.
I have heard a great many stories of patients going from doctor to doctor, from specialist to specialist, and the great many tests performed.
In my eyes, there is a very clear place that has to do with the fact that
whatever one describes is not properly heard.
Is it a lack of communication skills, the amount of time allocated for the exchanges, the poverty of the means to assess “what is wrong” and the fact that the symptoms may be too complex to fit a regular exchange in a doctor’s office?

To be continued – there is much more to this.

For those who many be interested in this: the Glasgow Coma Scale rates me a 15 (Mild) but because of a so-called   “Complicated Head Injury,” I end up in the Moderate category.
What’s good about this? It allows me to acknowledge as per French rabbi Delphine Horvilleur’s recent book title, “comment ça va pas?” – how is it not going?.
Maybe all we need is some kind recognition, the details to be elaborated somehow, IF the right context exists somewhere, for that kind of  exchange/communication.

LET IT BE ALWAYS BEYOND THE REACH
like an asymptote, but with fellow passengers onboard
ACKNOWLEDGING “THAT”

Difference is everything

Posted by piermar2 on December 25, 2023
Posted in: Culture, Death, LifeAfter, LifeBefore, Post-Op, Post-Rehab, TheBodyChallenge.

One writes to make a difference, or simply to try to distinguish, not extinguish…
As each moment passes, one attempts to leave one trace, so each moment, in its particular uniqueness, is noticed — “I bore witness to myself.”

As much as the miracle of healing can take place – and we cannot take credit for that – there are points of no return.
What happened is what happened.
Overall though, I am where I am and you are where you are.
In that sense, we do not really communicate. As Artaud said: “we are (only) making signals through the flames.”
That difference is paramount. And unbridgeable: tears are not enough.
In this culture of denial, the dictatorship of positivity reigns; nobody has actually any room for what is conveniently summarized as “negativity” & real difference.

>%,~*€|~£_+*%{! ^!D! #)|@{ (Survival Mode)

Posted by piermar2 on October 24, 2023
Posted in: TheBodyChallenge, TheMindChallenge, Uncategorized.

Magyarul: vagy irok, vagy sirok (either I write, or I cry).
OR
Being K.O. is not O.K.

This note was produced after many much valued friends asked me how I was doing. It is inserted here, even though it is only after being home that I realized that communication was going to require many more skills than in normal times.
First I apologize for any impatience on my part. I did what I could.

In the middle of a struggle, one is generally unable to speak, making any kind of statement is impossible.

Repeatedly I am asked how I am doing (“ça va?” in French, “hogy vagy?” in Hungarian).
In 2008 I had to placate someone who kept asking how I was doing (again, “ça va?” in French)… and ended up screaming “No, it is not going well!” (“ça va pas!”).

When you are going from moment to moment, if you are going at all, the concepts of “pain, progress, healing…” are absolutely irrelevant.
At those times, you know nothing

More importantly, one may end up being unpleasant to the outside world because one is still trying to create a link to some kind of self.
It is impossible to speak without a well established subject. That’s why one shouts.  One is asked something impossible: to speak means affirming one’s ”I,” one’s identity.

For those friends who have many questions to ask, instead:  please listen to what it is the only person is going through – only silence and time will allow for the reality of that moment to appear. Cervantes said it this way: Give time to time.

“A long and slow convalescence” means there’s no need to keep asking questions. Presence is 200% of the gift you can provide; as I often say:
                           presence is your infinitely precious present (or gift)!

More succinctly, in the context of pain: BEING IS NOT SPEAKING
(OR ONE IS ONLY PLAYING WORD-GAMES & IGNORING THE COMPLEXITY OF REALITY).

OR
Tout ce qui n’est pas cri est trivial.
The poverty of language; if I don’t scream, I am using platitudes.
The French writer, Antonin Artaud, addressed all of this throughout his life.

Your can only protect yourself that much, but it is clear that I would not be here without a helmet.

In Robert Frost’s footsteps (“Thinking isn’t agreeing or disagreeing. That’s voting.“), I would add that whether one is doing well or not is not the way to ask questions, if one wants to ask the important questions.

Nota Bene: Pain has nothing to teach. There is no “teaching moment” in it. And, possibly everything is only valid until the text time you encounter (the same!) difficulty again.

Living with Exhaustion – Humor Required

Posted by piermarton on October 21, 2014
Posted in: Humor, Insights, LifeAfter, Poetry, TheBodyChallenge, TheMindChallenge.

Someone who  had also a brain hemorrhage told me that to this day, twenty years later, one thing that remained with her was the exhaustion.
Sometimes it feels as if I want to sleep for weeks at a time, to hibernate…

The famous French/Belgian poet, Henri Michaux speaks here of exhaustion too.
I had always liked this poem but now I understand it more deeply.

Un homme paisible

Étendant les mains hors du lit, Plume fut étonné de ne pas rencontrer le mur. ” Tiens, pensa-t-il, les fourmis l’auront mangé… ” et il se rendormit.
Peu apres, sa femme l’attrapa et le secoua: “Regarde, dit-elle, fainéant! pendant que tu étais occupé à dormir on nous a volé notre maison.” En effet, un ciel intact s’étendait de tous côtés. “Bah, la chose est faite.” pensa-t-il.
Peu après, un bruit se fit entendre. C’était un train qui arrivait sur eux à toute allure. ” De l’air pressé qu’il a, pensa-t-il, il arrivera sûrement avant nous ” et il se rendormit.
Ensuite, le froid le réveilla. Il était tout trempé de sang. Quelques morceaux de sa femme gisaient près de lui. ” Avec le sang, pensa-t-il, surgissent toujours quantité de désagréments; si ce train pouvait n’être pas passé, j’en serais fort heureux. Mais puisqu’il est déjà passé… ” et il se rendormit.
– Voyons, disait le juge, comment expliquez-vous que votre femme se soit blessée au point qu’on l’ait trouvée partagée en huit morceaux, sans que vous, qui étiez à côté, ayez pu faire un geste pour l’en empêcher, sans même vous en être aperçu. Voilà le mystère. Toute l’affaire est là-dedans.
– Sur ce chemin, je ne peux pas l’aider, pensa Plume, et il se rendormit.
– L’exécution aura lieu demain. Accusé, avez-vous quelque chose à ajouter?
– Excusez-moi, dit-il, je n’ai pas suivi l’affaire. Et il se rendormit.

English Translation (by Marton)
A quiet man

Extending his hands out of bed, Plume was surprised not to meet the wall. “Well, he thought, the ants must have eaten it …” and he fell asleep again.
Shortly after, his wife grabbed him and shook him: “Look, she says, lazy you! while you were busy sleeping we were robbed of our house. “Indeed, an immaculate sky stretched on all sides. “Well, the thing is done.” He thought.
Soon after, a noise was heard. It was a train coming at them at full speed. “From its hurried look, he thought, it will surely arrive before we do” and again he fell asleep.
Then, the cold woke him up. He was soaked in blood. A few pieces of his wife were lying next to him. “With blood, he thought, there are always a great many problems; if this train could have not passed, I would be very happy. But since it has already passed … “and he went back to sleep.
– Well, said the judge, how do you explain that your wife injured herself to the point that she was found divided into eight pieces, without you, who were nearby, being able to make a gesture to prevent it, without you even having noticed it. That’s the mystery. Everything lies there.
– On that path, I cannot help him, thought Plume, and he fell back asleep.
– The execution will take place tomorrow. Accused, do you have something to add?
– Excuse me, he said, I have not followed the case. And he went back to sleep.

Référence. Henri Michaux, Un certain Plume, dans Plume précédé de Lointain intérieur, Paris, Gallimard, 1963, pp.139-140.

If you want more from Michaux, here are some of his night reports.

Escaping the Vegetable State

Posted by piermarton on June 29, 2013
Posted in: Death, ICU, LifeAfter, TheBodyChallenge.
CabbageSMLMarton

My cabbage by Pier Marton

Say No To Say Yes

I may have written about this earlier: this was a key moment in my “survival.”
I had tubes in my head, my nose, my throat, my stomach, where else I am not sure anymore… I had been more dead than alive. I could not speak… I could not write… my eyes seemed my only way to connect to the visitors. After being in the I.C.U. for what seemed like an eternity [beware of the myth of that neutral taste of eternity on the Jewish Shabbat -nobody had considered what eternity in hell could be like?!], as another tube was being inserted into me, this time into my throat, I came back to life by shouting a loud and clear: “NO!” –  As if this were a form of re-incarnation (re-entering my body), I came back to a certain sense of self by refusing that tube.
The nurse was shocked, I had been absolutely compliant before… I had surprised myself too.
Was this the same life force that Marceline Loridan-Ivens – who survived the concentrations camps – often speaks of?
Biology of the cells uniting?  Life must be?

My refusal corresponded to some re-investment of my body, and my need to control its boundaries.

Jacques Brel: On N’Oublie Rien, On S’Habitue/We Forget Nothing, We Get Used To It

Posted by piermarton on October 7, 2012
Posted in: BrainScience, LifeAfter, TheBodyChallenge, TheMindChallenge.

My response to someone asking me whether I was healed.
Ma réponse à quelqu’un qui me demandait si j’étais guéri.

(use Google Translate for a quick translation)

On n’oublie rien de rien
On n’oublie rien du tout
On n’oublie rien de rien
On s’habitue, c’est tout

Ni ces départs, ni ces navires
Ni ces voyages qui nous chavirent
De paysages en paysages
Et de visages en visages
Ni tous ces ports, ni tous ces bars
Ni tous ces attrape-cafards
Où l’on attend le matin gris
Au cinéma de son whisky
Ni tout cela, ni rien au monde
Ne sait pas nous faire oublier
Ne peut pas nous faire oublier
Qu’aussi vrai que la terre est ronde.

On n’oublie rien de rien
On n’oublie rien du tout
On n’oublie rien de rien
On s’habitue, c’est tout

Ni ces jamais ni ces toujours
Ni ces je t’aime ni ces amours
Que l’on poursuit à travers coeurs
De gris en gris de pleurs en pleurs
Ni ces bras blancs d’une seule nuit
Collier de femme pour notre ennui
Que l’on dénoue au petit jour
Par des promesses de retour
Ni tout cela ni rien au monde
Ne sait pas nous faire oublier
Ne peut pas nous faire oublier
Qu’aussi vrai que la terre est ronde

On n’oublie rien de rien
On n’oublie rien du tout
On n’oublie rien de rien
On s’habitue, c’est tout

Ni même ce temps où j’aurais fait
Mille chansons de mes regrets
Ni même ce temps où mes souvenirs
Prendront mes rides pour un sourire
Ni ce grand lit où mes remords
Ont rendez-vous avec la mort
Ni ce grand lit que je souhaite
A certains jours comme une fête
Ni tout cela ni rien au monde
Ne sait pas nous faire oublier
Ne peut pas nous faire oublier
Qu’aussi vrai que la terre est ronde

On n’oublie rien de rien
On n’oublie rien du tout
On n’oublie rien de rien
On s’habitue, c’est tout

Static & Frozen Movement

Posted by piermarton on July 16, 2012
Posted in: Death, Insights, LifeAfter, Rehab, TheBodyChallenge, TheMindChallenge.

Most people, when things are not perfect, would love for a change to take place. Unfortunately for many of us, the changes are minimal to the point of appearing non-existent.  In French we use the expression”faire du surplace” – moving without creating any change.

It is in that spirit – and that of the film L’Amour à Mort (Love Unto Death) by Resnais – that I hope to write a short text to be called On n’en revient pas (a French expression meaning both “from there one does not come back,” and “hard to believe”).

The Invisible Distance (and Fatigue) Towards The Fluff & The “Too Much”

Posted by piermarton on February 17, 2012
Posted in: Insights, LifeAfter, Post-Rehab, TheBodyChallenge, TheMindChallenge, Tips.

APPEARANCES
Because I can speak and interact normally*, most people assume that I have made a complete recovery… but the exhaustion endures (hands or knees shake at times) and very often there is a fog to be pierced through to interact with others.
The best way to express this is to say that my eyeballs don’t feel completely aligned with my eye sockets. I can look but am I looking, am I seeing?
Taking a warm shower or sitting in a hot-tub seem to help this discomfort – this simple trick provided my first sense of relief from feeling utterly “out of it.”
Similarly, if I move my head upward/downward or sideways too fast, everything spins around me. Doctors and rehab personnel have called this symptom a vestibular issue and tried in vain to manipulate my inner ear crystals.

DISTANCE
Earlier I have brought up my sense that much of life seem to be populated by “stuff” (as if I were floating in the intergalatic space described in the classic film “The Powers of Ten” [a link]).
There is also my persistent way of being disconnected from the (mundane) busyness of regular life.
As a doctor remarked astutely:

just to be there, present interacting with eyes, ears and one’s body and mind, IS a lot of work.

Normal sound and visual stimulation, even in their more quiet forms, are plenty to process. Handling the intensity of  a sunny day with the wind bristling through the leaves, or an excited crowd, is too much.

I used to value the distanciation/alienation (“Verfremdung” in German) that Brecht had advised for his epic theater. I had looked for it in theater, film and art.
Now I live with this distance on a daily basis. Even if I decried fluff in past writing, now fluff surrounds me everywhere (cf. Resnais’s film mentioned earlier).

And so, the small, the quiet, are much more appealing… I am reminded of this “Auto-Interview” by Primo Levi which I had always appreciated:

… we must be cautious about delegating to others our judgment and our will. Since it is difficult to distinguish true prophets from false, it is as well to regard all prophets with suspicion. It is better to renounce revealed truths, even if they exalt us by their simplicity and their splendor, or if we find them convenient because we can acquire them gratis.

It is better to content oneself with other more modest and less exciting truths, those one acquires painfully, little by little and without shortcuts, with study, discussion and reasoning, those that can be verified and demonstrated.

*more about that later

“What does not kill you, makes you stronger!” – Really?!?!

Posted by piermarton on February 11, 2012
Posted in: Family, ICU, LifeAfter, Post-Op, Rehab, TheBodyChallenge, TheMindChallenge.

Illness, sickness, being “out” has
NO REDEEMING VALUE.
Trying to “be positive” about it
(to hide one’s fear?)
represents an indoctrination like any other.
– life is the way it is –

While one does know certain things because one has been punched by life – often by just plain stupidity – that knowledge amounts to being able to say:

“one can be punched hard by life or by stupidity.”

Christopher Hitchens’s take on the famous saying goes this way:

“Whatever doesn’t kill me makes me stronger.”

“Oh, really?” says Hitchens, “Take the case of the philosopher to whom that line is usually attributed, Friedrich Nietzsche, who lost his mind to what was probably syphilis. Or America’s homegrown philosopher Sidney Hook, who survived a stroke and wished he hadn’t.”
… it ends with “one can dispense with facile maxims that don’t live up to their apparent billing.”