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Emissivity
The emissivity of my MS — Chapter 01
R—A—T—E
REFLECTANCE—ABSORBANCE—TRANSMITTANCE—EMISSIVITY
Emissivity is the measurable release of energy (thermal
radiation) from a body. In my Army Aviation days, I learned this as the fourth
factor of thermal imaging in the Pilot Night Vision System. The thermal imaging
system of the Apache passively translates heat—either reflected off,
transmitted through, or emitted by a target.
Reflectance: the damage from my MS constantly reflects off
me—my physical impairment, the limitations placed on me, and the losses I have
experienced. The physical, professional, and emotional burden is sometimes onerous
for me to see beyond that reflection.
Absorbance: the amount of shift I have had to absorb
because of my MS is unquantifiable. “Suck it up and drive on” is more than
dumbed-down Army logic. Even if I wanted to show the world everything my MS
does to me, I wouldn’t know how to start or if my reflection accurately
portrays my plight. I hold back for lack of alternatives. MS has taken much
from me. Still, I refuse to let it occupy more of my precious time than it
already controls. I repress the suffering of my past in favor of promises my
future holds. I don’t want the only image of me to be my battle with MS. I
hide fear so I can show elation.
Transmittance: my writings tell me I have become proficient in
this subset. Through personal examples, I often try to show multiple sclerosis’s
devastating effects on our community of victims. I generalize their effects by
showing you my MS, but I am describing the standard/medical/textbook
definitions of MS offered through the backdrop of a target (me).
If thermal imaging ended there, with just those
three factors, I might be OK. Heck, it got me this far! There are so many flaws
and holes that when I read the beginning of this story, the questions outweigh
any other thoughts I may have.
Where does the energy come from?
What decides the impact energy has on a target
and how that target will respond?
What happens to absorb energy?
When does energy turn from absorption/generation
into emission?
A combination of scientists, neurologists, and
therapists spend an awful lot of time trying to understand these questions and
how they relate to me, the target. My ongoing healthcare appointments often
focus on where my MS issues come from. Time determines if an impact is reflected
or absorbed.
I reflect. I transmit. I absorb.
But for how long?
For 24 years, I have absorbed much of the pain,
loss, debilitation, and damage exacted by my MS. Time has not softened its
efficacy; repression has not dulled their energy. Nor have my dirty little friends
been idle, instead raging and burning with intensity. How long can this last?
Emissivity is my theme as I roll into 2023’s Bike MS we can.
Good or bad…Lighthearted or somber…Positive or filled with rage, my stories
this season will highlight my MS’s burden on me. I will make this personal. I
will show you what MS does to one individual–me.
I will apologize one time, right now, for the
topics included in my detonation of energy that has been absorbed and generated
within me. I will share openly and honestly the translation of my MS through
rage, fear, passion, humility, delight, horror, indifference, sarcasm, and so
much more.
My non sequitur approach won’t hide behind the
cover of protection provided by my family in the MS community fighting
alongside me. I won’t focus on the statistics and percentages we face as a
group. I need to tell you the story of what my MS has done to me and why I will
ask for your help finding a cure because nobody else should live like I have
for 24 years.
The Emissivity of Pain
The emissivity of my MS — Chapter 02
R—A—T—E
REFLECTANCE—ABSORBANCE—TRANSMITTANCE—EMISSIVITY
What are the expectations for someone who endures
24 years of pain? It’s a slippery slope for a variety of reasons. Showing pain
elicits sympathy. Aring too much pain too often shifts feelings of martyrdom towards
overreaction, hypochondria, and narcissism. Masking will draw connotations of
bravery, getting better, or “It’s not that bad for him.” I always thought it
was best to show a little bit of one, a pinch of the other, and absorb the
rest.
I REFLECT the pain I struggle with in not-so-subtle, direct ways. I try to tell the world, “Because of my MS, I am in constant pain.” I usually do this in my blogs when searching for sympathy and support during fundraising season. In the same way, other MS patients’ pains TRANSMIT through me when I share examples of the common burdens we experience. My revelation hopefully draws sympathy while my smile highlights bravery as I mock the pain with a hearty smile and casual pose.
Every moment of my day draws pain and discomfort.
How do I draw out all I have absorbed because of my MS? What is the emissivity
of my pain after 24 years?
I can’t scream. A set of muscles in your neck are
responsible for producing sound and speech. These laryngeal muscles are part of
the long list of damage from my MS. A while back, I was dining with a group of
friends when one of them popped their chair up to scoot it closer to the table—
and right onto my shoeless toes. That hurt, and my first reaction was to
scream. What came out was a screeching sound akin to a bathtub full of
screaming baby piglets. It did not have its intended effect.
I can’t cry but am momentarily sensitive to the
slightest tug at my heartstrings. On no less than seven separate occasions,
Eleanor had to ask me if I was OK yesterday. We were watching an old sitcom
rerun, one of those sappy episodes. In every emotional scene, muscles
constricted in my neck and chest. I don’t know why I could not contain myself;
I’ve seen the original dozens of times. Although emotions are a common symptom
of MS patients, my expressions are uncomfortable “choked up” feelings at
insignificant times. Beyond that–I turn cold and indifferent.
I limit the emissivity of my pain to words for
now. Maybe writing is my first step. In the long run, I don’t want to limit my reactions
to random spurts of “Fuck,” “Ouch,” and “Help.”
I don’t want to absorb any more pain.
The Emissivity of Loss:
Rejection
The emissivity of my MS —
Chapter 03 of the 04
A reflection on shades of my
former self…
R-A-T-E
REFLECTANCE—ABSORBANCE—TRANSMITTANCE—EMISSIVITY
Call it what you want. Moving on, Pushing Aside, Retiring, Replacing, Unwilling, Unable, Unsafe. Any way you slice it, my MS has led to much more loss than the sensation of my nerves and atrophy of my muscles. It swept aside promising careers as a leader in both the US Army and corporate America when I could no longer do the job for which I was once desired. Past adventures have been relegated to “back in the day” stories. I dismissed relationships and connections because of my MS—the fear of the unknown, the resentment over what I no longer offered, and attempts to reject my personal struggles. What I once loved, stood for, desired to be, or hoped to learn are now all indices in my accumulation of losses.
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I write about my losses as a REFLECTION of the man I was before MS came into my life. All too often, those images are the first things many people see. Loss and rejection are often the connections I try to make between myself and the rest of my MS community, TRANSMITTING the primary, secondary, and unseen effects of sclerosis.
I ABSORB the sensation
of rejection.
·
“Don’t
cry over spilled milk.”
·
“You
cannot change the past.”
·
“God,
grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change
the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” ~by the way, Reinhold Niebuhr,
thanks for your nebulous cliché.
The burning difficulty has always been my refusal
to accept that which I have “been told” I cannot change. Anguish and anxiety
flourish when the person I was along my journey and trials, or the person I
have become, offends someone because I am not the person they feel I ought to
become/remain. Anger, resentment, and anxiety remained buried for too long,
scabbing my heart until almost nothing could penetrate; if nothing could reach
my heart, nothing would hurt. Or so I thought…
Some connections still reached my inner core for
more reasons than I’m sure you care to explore. Loving family. Caring friends.
My vision of possibilities. Love. Eleanor. For my Emissivity Project, I
decided to expose the hurt of loss and rejection I have absorbed. I found there
was no more hurt underneath the scab I ripped away. The only reminders I had were
the scars I carried.
The emissivity of my loss and rejection has only seemed
to expose a heart buried under almost 24 years of scars. I think I will work to
keep it that way. As I experience further loss because of the effects of my MS,
which I’m sure I will, I’ll reflect on it in my blogs and conversations (my
therapist will have some busy moments). For any personal rejection, I’ll
address and move on; I harbor no resentment for past grievances, nor can I
apologize for what I went through. I’ll transmit the pain my entire community
experiences as a reminder of why we must continue to fight.
I guess Niebuhr’s Serenity Prayer is not as
cliché as I once thought.
The Emissivity of Fear
The emissivity of my MS — Chapter 04
R-A-T-E
REFLECTANCE—ABSORBANCE—TRANSMITTANCE—EMISSIVITY
Fear is the worst of all the projections my MS
effectively focuses on me. Any pain I experience pales compared to the fear of
what I will feel tomorrow or the constant worry that my current levels will
never recede. Not-yet-experienced losses always seem to exceed today’s sadness.
Absolutely every physical, mental, and emotional effect of my MS clouds me in
fear.
I REFLECT the fear my MS emits through a
thin mask of sarcasm and bravery (stubbornness, ignorance, foolishness...).
I’ll share posts of my hospital visits in hopes of eliciting sympathy or
reassurance that it’ll get better. Don’t tell anyone. I will never admit this!
Through my stories, I’ll TRANSMIT the fear
MS creates on “others” (translation: me) by using examples of how they could
overwhelm me if I were a weaker man (they do/I am).
Most of my fear has been unsuccessfully ABSORBED
for almost 24 years. Unsuccessfully, I say, because I recognize there is a
trickling emissivity of fear that will kill me if I don’t get a hold of it.
Isolation. Self-destructive behavior. Extremes of health, fitness, diet,
alcohol. The slow leak of pent-up fear does nothing to lessen the nightmares
churning within.
Writing helps, although I think it sends the
wrong message when I project my fear through the characters I’ve created. I
chose this blog to focus on myself and the fear that grips every moment, the fear
created by my MS. My fear has held me back and redirected my energy for too
long. No longer embracing disenchantment because of my MS, I will focus on
strength, growth, power, and health (all mentally and physically) undeterred by
my MS. In my words, I will focus on reflecting my current fears and
transmitting the fears of my community. I don’t want to absorb any more.
I recognize that it exists — I know what causes
it — I know the detrimental effect it has on me — I know what I’m missing out
on — I want to break my cycle — I want to fight — I want to win — I will never
stop — I will never quit.
Disclaimer: multiple sclerosis differs vastly
from patient to patient. No two instances are the same. Symptoms, diagnosis,
and treatment are just some factors that lead credence to the saying, “Once you’ve
met one MS patient, you’ve met one MS patient.” My experiences described are
unique to me, but there is an underlying pattern in the fight each of us faces.
Because it is a fight.
The fight is not over and it won’t be over until a cure is found.
It will never stop…nor will we
It will never quit…nor will we
This is why we ride!
Never Stop… Never Quit…®
Please
donate today: https://mssociety.donordrive.com/participant/Rogue
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Never Stop… Never Quit…
Reg. U.S. Pat. & Tm. Off.
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