I was looking at Facebook and a picture from the Nashville Tribute Band reminded me of when I got to see and hear them at an LDS stake building in Portland last year. They were fantastic!
The audience was on the basketball court in folding metal chairs. Even though I was totally into the music, I was squirming around in my seat. It hurt like heck. I kept scanning the audience. Not a single other person out of hundreds could be seen shifting around in their seats to get comfortable…just me.
Today in church, I looked around. Tears were leaking out of my head because I was so uncomfortable. I was in my power chair. For the whole hour I had been experiencing jolting myoclonic jerks and stabbing pains. Everybody else was sitting calmly.
I hardly ever leave a building without crying during the time I was inside or as soon as I got out. I was thinking about that at the museum when I started to feel sick, but I didn’t want to leave.
I always blame myself for being a crybaby. It doesn’t matter how bad I want to be somewhere, it usually makes me sick and in more pain. It seems like the more ventilation a building has, the longer I can last.
We all know I generally do better camping than living in a building. I was getting sick in here just before I left for church. I had to get up, turn on the bathroom fan and close the door to reroute cigarette smoke that comes through the bathroom vent. Sigh….
I don’t know what I am trying to say other than IT’S NOT MY FAULT!!!!!! I don’t want to be made sick. No matter how much I want to be somewhere, I still get sick. I feel guilty when I flee from church after sacrament meeting.
I struggle with this constantly. Sometimes I just want to scream and cry. Other people can sit still and not be in pain. Other people don’t need inhalers and tissues during a meeting. Nobody else is zooming away in tears. Why am I the freak? I don’t mean to be.
Someday I hope I can come to realize its not my fault. It’s just the way my body is. I feel like such a failure when everybody is OK but me. It makes me feel guilty.
After talking to a man from church whose relative hasn’t gone for years, maybe I should learn to be happy I went at all instead of being mad I can’t last for three hours. I will work on it….