I skimmed the news headlines this morning, hoping for something that would feed a positive mood. The positive motivator was missing from the headlines. In its place, the media reports on admittedly critical matters upon which the future of humanity hinge. Like I need to be reminded that the population of planet Earth has largely handed over responsibility for the future to bumbling idiots hell-bent on maximizing their poll numbers while the planet burns, melts, erodes, and otherwise degrades around them. Cheery thought, eh? But I did find something of interest in an opinion piece in Canada’s Globe and Mail newspaper. Here’s a quote extracted from the article:
To be “woke” today is to acknowledge the factors that intersect with mental illness, but to ignore the illness itself. It is almost taboo to suggest that social inequities are not the sole cause for the development of mental illness.
As I skimmed the article, it occurred to me that many people I know and respect might take issue with the author, Thomas Ungar. Ungar is an associate professor of psychiatry at the University of Toronto and a research consultant with the Mental Health Commission of Canada. He goes on to say “We have moved from a narrower biomedical model of understanding mental illness to a more encompassing approach that touches on three factors: the biological, the psychological and the social. Addressing all three is the secret sauce to best outcomes.” I do not dispute his contention and, in fact, I think it’s pretty damn obvious. No matter what we read, we see arguments that suggest or claim outright that social issues are the most important and powerful contributor to mental illness. Physical and biological causes are almost dismissed out of hand. While I’m not a psychiatrist, I’ve read enough to develop an opinion; and my opinion is that Ungar is correct. We ought to seek balance in our examination of causes and the effectiveness of cures. It may well be that social “cures” are more effective than prescriptions for drugs, but still we need to understand the causes to understand the mechanisms of treatment that are most effective. In examining treatments, we have to acknowledge that conversational therapies, versus medication therapies, may not be the most effective routes of treatment. But, then again, they might. Balance. Openness. Willingness to be led by the results of rigorous research. That, in my uneducated opinion, is what we need to develop treatments for mental illness. And for physical illness. They are, in my opinion, manifestations of essentially the same thing; some kind of damage to the body; which includes the mind.
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Another abysmal night, the cause for which was my breathing—or lack thereof. Actually, much of the trouble is attributable to some sort of obstructions in my airways, like saliva clinging to the walls of my breathing tubes. Each breath in and out creates a noise like a faint whistle. In my ears, the whistle is loud and terribly distracting. I’ve had CT scans, which revealed almost nothing abnormal. The next step is to see an ENT doctor; I hope he can address the issue quickly and completely. This problem has been going on every since my lung cancer surgery in November 2018; to say it’s getting old would be a gross understatement. And it seems, sometimes, to be getting worse. And then it improves. And then it doesn’t. Ach! I shouldn’t complain. I can breathe (though sometimes it’s strained and causes me to feel out of breath), so I should be grateful. And I am. I am a whiningly appreciative complainer.
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Today, I am scheduled to facilitate a conversation at church, after the presentation (which will be a video) on religion and politics. I suspect the crowd today will be small. COVID and the restrictions we’ve imposed in response to it, coupled with the fact that the presentation will not involve the presence of actual, physical human beings, may keep the numbers of congregants small. Whatever. I will ask any who attend to talk about their reaction to the film or, if that’s not of interest to them, about anything else of burning interest.
Back in the day, I used to facilitate strategic planning sessions for association boards of directors. And I was paid reasonably well to do it. But facilitating these church sessions is an entirely different animal. I cannot be as demanding, nor as forceful in guiding the conversation. And I am paid only by the crowd’s restraint; generally, participants do not throw tomatoes or shoes at me.
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I am not happy about having to get “dressed” to go to church today. I would get dressed, anyway, but the choice of clothes will be different because of my destination this morning. I will not wear shorts because…just because. I will not wear an oversized t-shirt because…just because. I will not wear my flip-flops…because. I have no official rules guiding my behavior, but I imagine the expectations of whoever sees me there will be that I will wear, at least, jeans, tennis-shoes, and a button shirt; something a bit less casual than I would like. A bit, hell! A lot less casual than I like! I’ve said it many times before and I’ll say it again: nudity is the natural state of humankind. We wear clothes not to protect us from the elements but to protect us from fierce gossip and judgmental eyes. I wish we were all free to wear comfortable rags or nothing at all, if that’s what feels good. Clothes are largely nothing more than ornaments and costumes that identify the social classes (or castes) to which we belong. But I lack the courage to live according to my beliefs and opinions; I await the leadership of someone else who will convince his or her followers to go about their business, free of clothes and free of fear of what others think. Only after sufficient numbers of obese, carefree, and fearless old men (and women) follow suit will I shed my garments. Because I do not have the courage of my convictions. I weep at my need to cover myself with yards and yards (for that’s what it takes) of cloth. I call on everyone to go naked! (Or, “nekkid” as locals might say.) You can count on me to follow. At the appropriate time.
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Damn! My brother is back in the hospital with breathing problems caused by the accumulation of fluid on his lungs. I hope he can have surgery (to repair the problem causing the fluid issues) soon and that the treatment is quick and completely addresses the issue.
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Speaking of medical “stuff,” I go back to my oncologist tomorrow and, then later in the week, to my dentist’s office for my regular cleaning. Next month, my annual physical. And an follow-up with the dermatologist’s office in December. It seems I have medical appointments every month and sometimes more than once or twice a month. I’m tired of that. I want my youth back. I want carefree youth. Assumed invincibility. Absence of fear about any possible future malady. Someone else said it long before I thought it, but I like what they said: Youth is wasted on the young.
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I need food. Something substantial. But what? Who knows? Time will tell.
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