Last Monday, I had a meeting with the intellectual disability physician who prescribes my psychiatric medication. The first thing we needed to discuss, was me tapering my antipsychotic. That’s going on, thankfully. However,I also had been complaining for months about increasing tremors in my right leg and hand, decreased mobility and more pain. Unfortunately, according to her, there’s nothing that can be done about these issues to make them go away. I mean, she’s referring me to occupational therapy, but it’s not like that’s going to lessen my symptoms. More like make them more manageable, I hope.
She says my symptoms are due to the brain bleed I suffered as an infant. She however added: “You’re getting older.” Ouch! I’m turning forty this year. That’s not old, or is it?
I’ve always thought that I wouldn’t live a very long life. I mean, my paternal grandma made it to 94 and, when I was a child, my parents thought I took after her. Now, not so much. My other grandparents all lived to be in their late seventies or early eighties. My father will be 77 next week and my mother will be 71 in April. Familially speaking, I’m not at risk of dying young, even though my maternal grandmother suffered from heart disease and diabetes for decades before her death.
However, I do have the brain bleed. Cerebral palsy in itself doesn’t limit one’s life expectancy. Autism, statistically speaking, does. And it’s probably due to my mental health that I won’t make it to old age. I’ve had more close calls in the last few years than I’d like to admit.
My wife and I recently had a discussion about who would go first. She doesn’t cling to life as much as I do, but I’m far more impulsive. I hope both of us will make it to old age and in relatively good health too.
The above song has been on my mind for a few months already. My wife and I have been together eighteen years, but oh well…
A Multitude of Musings 