Oh you made plans? That’s cute.

The first time I really remember my health ruining my plans was in 10th grade, I was supposed to go to a party at a friend’s house, and this was like a group I was trying to establish myself in as a young and spry 15 year old. But alas my body had other plans. During the social studies portion of the Ohio Graduation Test, given to all sophomores on that Friday, I turned my head abruptly and all of a sudden I was like holy fucking shit ballz, what just happened. So my head was stuck turned to the side and in like bonkers pain about an 8 for young Alex. However being the person I am, I of course didn’t tell the teacher because it was a testing environment and I didn’t know the teacher proctoring the test and didn’t want to draw attention to myself and also had a very important chemistry test 8th period. The rest of the day everyone is like uh are you ok? And I’m like yeah it’s great everything’s good I don’t need to go to the nurse I’m fine. Not a single teacher asked about it. Thanks guys. Make it to the end of the day, meet my older brother and get in the car to go home. We drive in silence per usual, (it was a rule of his at the time), until we cross the railroad tracks on our route and I burst into tears, am blabbering about the neck and the chemistry test and meanwhile he’s like what the fuck is happening and also what kind of psychopath stays at school to take a test, we’re going to the ER.

All in all, after a lot of crying mostly due to the unwanted attention, and some morphine, they concluded I had a pinched nerve and sent me on my way with some muscle relaxers. Way to go to my 18 year old brother at the time he handled things pretty well in retrospect. But the worst part was my Mom with all her love and concern (so annoying right?) told me I couldn’t go to the party because I was too high. I planned and planned and studied and planned and alas a stupid nerve ruined my fun. Little did I know at the time that this would be the first of many a plan my health would ruin.

I’ve dragged you all down memory lane with me largely because it’s so funny how little I’m bothered by it all now. My doctors office called me about 4 hours before my minor surgical procedure today and told me they had to reschedule. Insurance decided they didn’t think it was necessary anymore and now we have to do a bunch more shit. The office administrador was super apologetic and I’m just like, “whatever man it’s not your fault let’s just reschedule that shit.” Whenever I try to make a plan more than a month out I feel like I’m tempting the chronic illness demons, or whatever else demons. Like oh you wanna get your PhD in Art History? you already took the GRE? and did your applications? LOL SIKE Let’s hospitalize you and make you dependent on 6 medical specialists instead!

Now I think to myself Oh? You want to make a long term plan? That’s so cute. So naive. You know nothing Jon Snow. What I do know for certain however is I will never prioritize a chemistry test so high such that I end up in the ER as a result. What a dumbass.

Did you know you’re shaking? Essential Tremor 101

Throughout the life of this blog you guys will probably hear about my tremor a fair amount because quite frankly it has been the source of some of the most hilarious and most dumbfounding moments of my life thus far. So today is just the tip of the iceberg my internet friends. However, I feel I have to start the tremor saga the way it tends to start in life with one of the following:

A) “Oh my god, are you ok? your hands are shaking!”

B) “Did you know you’re like shaking?”

So I’m going to use one of my favorite psychoanalytical phrases, and lets unpack those statements below:

Response A: Ok so first things first, this person is most likely coming at you with concern and general regard for your well-being. However their alarm is 9 times out of 10 totally unnecessary and ends up kind of being a pain in the ass.

Response B: My personal favorite way to recognize a tremor, to which I want to scream, NO FUCKING SHIT DUMBASS, but like I don’t. Deep down I say to myself, they know not what they do, and hope that they too are coming from a place of concern. But again as with before it’s unnecessary and more of a pain for me while I spill hot liquids on myself because I refuse to give up on coffee mugs.

So when I say these responses become a pain in the ass it’s often because people assume that one cannot be both “ok” and have a tremor. This is often rejected or met with more probing questions, which of course makes you anxious and oh wait! Makes you tremor worse and I’m like “ENOUGH Barbara! I’m not probing you about your medical history so back the fuck up!”

The second reason this bugs me is I hate having to make other people feel comfortable about my disability, or my chronic illness. And I am incredibly lucky to be able to fly under the radar most of the time. But it’s bigger than tremors it’s any illness. It’s the notion of oh sorry me coping with my illness bums you out, let me take time and energy to normalize this for you. Ain’t nobody got time for that! I’m perfectly happy twitching up a storm at yoga, and I am not going to worry if watching me deal with my tremor will harsh your mellow.

In short, YES FOR FUCKS SAKE I KNOW I’M SHAKING AND NO NOTHING’S WRONG.