Saturday, June 9, 2012

The Horned Lizard builds pressure in its sinal cavities to the point of exploding blood through its eye sockets to scare away or discourage predators. It can even direct the stream and precisely hit a target. A more commonly known defense mechanism is that of the opossum. It plays dead so that a predator looses interest. It literally becomes unconscious and oozes rank gook from its orifices so that it looks and smells like days of death. Defense mechanisms are essential for survival in a prey versus predator world. And, there is a wide array of defensive tactics. Some are as simple as tough skin or camouflage; others are complicated like the Hairy Frog that has to break its legs to push claws through its skin. But, these talents are only displayed when the animal feels threatened, when it is trying to avoid being eaten, when it just wants to survive another day. Sigmund Freud and his daughter Anna Freud outlined several defense mechanisms that humans use to escape or avoid anxiety – or being eaten. There are ten or so, with some more tagged on by more recent therapists, but one of those mechanisms is to act the opposite of how one is feeling. When I see someone or hear from someone who has read my blog, I cringe when they use the word “strong” or “strength.” I hate it. I feel like such a fake when they use that word or variations thereof because I know it’s from weakness that I write. Eli has had a decent couple of days. I’m sorry I missed a blog post yesterday. My head was splitting open, so I went to bed when Caleb did instead of writing. For some reason I can only write at night. I’ve tried during the day, but there are just too many chores with which to be distracted. My muse must be a night owl. It is so unfair to wake up with a headache, too, because that is the whole reason I go to bed early is to sleep off the headache. But, when it wakes me up during the night and is still there in the morning, I feel like the night was wasted sleeping. Eli has not had a fever since that first day he was admitted. They believe he must have had a bacterial infection because of how fast his body seemed to react to the antibiotic change; however, the cultures so far have been negative. His ANC is at 100, but that is within their margin of error, so basically it hasn’t really done anything. He received platelets again today without incidence. He has eaten nothing today. As a side note, someone asked me what a normal kid’s ANC is, I think it is 5,000 to 8,000. It’s been a tough week for me emotionally for some reason. (Do I write that every week? I need to go back and check.) I guess Eli’s little bump in the road just highlights the fragility of that road we are on and the news that little Lucy will be losing her earthly battle has weighed on my heart. Plus, a couple of other blogs I read offered no comfort. The struggle, which is literally minute to minute, to keep your thoughts from being consumed by the fear of tomorrow is tiring. And, please, read that again because this needs to be clear, (and you can even imagine me talking really slowly to drive home the thought) that there is a wrestling match, a struggle, a fight in my head to control my thoughts every minute so that I can survive another day – a day which passes toward an end that I fear. It’s a Catch-22. It’s a mental struggle that has emotional and physical consequences. Doubt begins to grow in that fertile ground of weakness and it is poison. I think often about the apostle Peter, which I’ve written about before, how he struggled with doubt even as a zealous and outspoken follower of Jesus. How could he both believe and doubt at the same time. How could a servant of God, an apostle who was an intimate friend of Jesus believe He is the Savior and then doubt He would save him from the angry waves of the sea. I wonder sometimes if I actually believe what I write or am I writing it just because it makes me look and feel strong – the defense mechanism of Reaction Formation. It’s a tough beat down for a tired mind once doubt digs in its roots. The picture I’m including tonight is of Eli in his new in-patient room. He has a view of the pyramid, which is better than our view of the roof last time. He stood at the window forever looking out at the cars passing. The days are long for him, and he senses the time he is missing at home now and asks about the girls and Caleb often. But, he is such a good boy and never complains about it. Just says “When I get done can we (fill in the blank).”

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.