Health

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I have not become comfortably numb

     Well, I misjudged things a bit, and though when I wrote my post yesterday I didn’t realize it, I had developed blisters on my feet from my long walking‒especially the right one, on which I had been wearing a spandex brace (prophylactically*‒I hadn’t yet been having any ankle problems, but wanted to avoid them if possible).  So, today, I am not walking, at least not to the train/work.

     I have realized that topical lidocaine creams, such as the max strength versions of “Icy Hot”, dull the irritation of blisters.  That’s nice to know, in a pinch, though I don’t know if it would dull the pain of a pinch; it seems only to work with superficial pain, not deeper pain.  Curiously, it also seems to dull some of the local signs and effects of inflammation (though Ibuprofen contributed to that).  Don’t worry, I’m not expecting to cover up my pain and forget about it.  That doesn’t seem doable.  I’ve tried.

     If I could slather lidocaine all over my body and thus numb all my pain, believe me, I would do it.  But I always hit a wall beyond which the numbing doesn’t reach.  Heck, I’ve had multiple steroid/lidocaine epidural injections and they didn’t seem to do anything to my pain, even temporarily.

     I should probably study up on the nature of congenital insensitivity to pain, just to see if the metabolic pathways involved in the condition shed any light on the sorts of things that might make a person have their pain sense shut off.  Mind you, given the nature of that disorder**, I suspect that its effects come about through some aberrant development of the nervous system, not by the presence (or absence) of some neurotransmitter.

     If memory serves, the saliva of the vampire bat has significant pain-reducing as well as anticoagulant properties.  I’ve heard all my life about people thinking it would be good to investigate as a source of potential powerful analgesics, but nothing has come of it, as far as I’m aware.  It wouldn’t be all that hard to separate out the molecules in vampire bat saliva and examine them and try to replicate them.  Heck, if you can figure out the bat’s biochemical process for making the molecules, you could develop transgenic bacteria that could produce the substance en masse, like how replacement thyroid hormone is made.

     No, either there were unforeseen difficulties with using the vampire bat’s saliva analgesic, or no one was interested in doing the research (which seems unlikely but is not impossible), or “big pharma” has blocked the research because it would interfere with the sales of opioids and NSAIDs and so on (see picture below for an example of such interference).  I would like to think that’s unlikely; after all, there would be tremendous potential for legitimate profit in a revolutionary new pain treatment.

     Still, if it turned out that anyone in a big drug company or companies did block research into such a potential pain killer, then all the people involved would need to be strapped to tables and have all their joints and other “tender areas”, like genitals and nipples and lips and eyes, injected with some combination of‒for instance‒capsaicin and gympie-gympie leaf extract and fire ant venom, with some uric acid crystals*** thrown in for good measure.  Oh, and also they should be given constant, powerful stimulants so that they cannot escape their pain by losing consciousness.

     That’s if I don’t think of anything even better to do to them.

     Obviously, I take pain treatment seriously.  That should come as no surprise, given my personal, decades-long chronic pain and my own having gone to prison for trying (naively) to treat other people’s pain, only to be thrown under the bus by people who were taking advantage of my naïveté.  I have very little patience for those who would interfere with other people reducing their pain and suffering, or who would make light of the suffering of innocent people.

     Mind you, though I think vindictive thoughts and entertain vindictive fantasies, I would probably (like a moron and a sucker) feel pity even for people who had done such horrible deeds, and I would probably end their lives with minimal pain.

     I would not feel bad about that though.  People who willfully engender greater suffering in others for their own short-term (or long-term) profit, whatever form that might take (unless it is truly and honestly and reasonably something they perceive to be an emergency or an absolute survival need) are more than worthy of being erased from existence.  And while it might be reasonable for those who knew them to miss them, they would not deserve to be mourned.

     Look at me, getting all murderously vindictive about purely imaginary people, when there are so many real people who are thoroughly deserving of such animus.  But, anyway, that’s enough of this weird-ass blog post for today.  I’ll let you go to enjoy something more wholesome.  Please have a good day if you’re able.

*I am pleased to note that my right ankle is in no danger of an unwanted pregnancy.

**And yes, it is a disorder, not just a “difference”, because it significantly reduces the survival and thrival of people who have it.

***Look them up; they’re related to gout.

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“But when the blast of war blows in our ears…”

     It’s Friday, and it may, once again, be a true end of the week for me, though if it’s’n’t*, I’m sure I’ll write a new post tomorrow, barring‒as is always implicit‒the unforeseen.

     I’m in a bad mood this morning, though not in the usual sense.  Of course, I’m often, perhaps even usually, in a mood that others would consider bad; they certainly wouldn’t want it for themselves.  Although, I would never say “I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy”, because that’s just not true.

     If someone were indeed my “worst enemy”, then I would wish to visit upon them just about any form of pain and suffering and other synonyms for torment that you can name, and I would be more than capable, psychologically, of delivering that torment personally.

     As a doctor, when I was in practice, there were innumerable times when I had to cause pain to people I was trying to help (e.g., phlebotomy, lumbar punctures, paracentesis, incision and drainage of abscesses, etc.).  I did it without hesitation when it was indicated, though I always strove to keep any pain as minimal as possible.

     Also, I’ve been in places and in situations where violence was always waiting, and you needed to be capable of violence to protect yourself from potential violence from others.

     So, yeah, I would be more than emotionally capable of delivering any suffering I’ve ever known to someone who merited it.

     Of course, in reality, I wouldn’t really waste time delivering torment to someone who was somehow my “worst enemy”.  I’ve learned at least some lessons from fictional and real world situations of that kind:  don’t put your enemies in death traps, don’t gloat over them (while they’re alive), don’t draw things out.  Just delete them, as quickly and efficiently as possible.  Surely that’s the only sensible way to deal with someone who is truly your enemy.  The world will be a much less stressful place for you with any true enemies erased from it.

     Of course, you don’t want to be mistaken about that.  One shouldn’t use force unless it is legitimately necessary, and only against those who merit it‒ideally only against those who initiated or threatened it.  If they call the tune, so to speak, then there can be no legitimate moral complaints about the fact that they need to pay the piper.

     So, yeah, that’s the kind of bad mood I’m in this morning.  I’ve learned of something terrible that happened to someone I (distantly) know and like, at the hands of someone who had apparently been trusted by the person I know, and who was much bigger and stronger.

     I am, of course, in no way involved other than being aware of it, and of course, such acts occur all over the world, every day.  That doesn’t make accepting them any easier, nor does it make me any less angry.  If anything, knowing that one act of violence by a bigger person against a smaller, weaker person is just a tiny sample of a much larger statistic is ever more maddening the longer one contemplates the fact.

     However, the “madness” that can seize one in the event of an injustice, especially a violent one‒and the examples committed by those who are supposed to be in positions of protection and service are particularly common and especially egregious of late‒raises and reinforces the all-important issue of proving guilt beyond reasonable doubt.

     This is why the concept of due process is even more important than the concept of punishment.  The tendency toward the feud, toward vendetta, is very strong in humans, and it can become a self-perpetuating and self-justifying process that leads to terrible injustice and unnecessary suffering.

     That being said, though, anger can be quite motivating, at least if it is anger unmarred by too much self-loathing.  So, though I am in pain this morning, and did not sleep well at all, I have a bit more physical energy than usual, at least for the moment, because when one becomes angry at an injustice, one wants to be able to do something about it, even if it is not within the reach of one’s arm at the moment.

     For instance, it’s much easier to motivate oneself to workout when one thinks of it as getting into shape to be best able to deal with unjust physical violence if it should become necessary.

     I’ve certainly let myself become softer than I ever used to be.  I do still work out nearly every day (with appropriate rest sessions) because when I don’t, my chronic pain becomes worse.  But I’ve left behind the martial arts practice I used to do, and I stopped learning new stuff along those lines quite some time ago.  I’ve also not been watching/reading things that motivated me along those lines in quite a while, but I may want to indulge in them a bit more, now.  If nothing else, they can get me motivated to get in better shape, and that’s almost certainly going to be a benefit.

    If it should ever become necessary and useful to use better conditioning to protect someone from harm, or to take action against those who commit harm against the innocent, well…I suspect it would probably be a better world if more people became more ready, willing, and able to use violence against those who initiate or threaten it.

     There’s always the critical rub of people being prone to bias and mistake, to rush to judgment, and to scapegoat.  Which brings us back to why the rule of law, and due process, is so important.

     But what does one do when those who are supposed to be part of the rule of law and to enforce and to bow to due process choose to betray their oaths and their duties, and do not submit to the rule of law themselves?

     The answer is probably obvious, but feel free to write your guesses in the comments below.

     Have a good day.

*In case it’sn’t clear, I combined the contractions “it’s” for “it is” and the contraction “isn’t” for “is not” into a next-order contraction.

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This is the title, not a deed

It’s Monday morning again, despite popular demand, and here I am again, writing a blog post to start the week (despite lack of more or less any demand).  Welcome!

It’s already stupidly muggy here in south Florida, even though it’s only the last day of the first week (the first seven day stretch, not the first Sunday through Saturday period) of April.  And, of course, the world is stupid overall.

But what else is new?  Individual humans can be quite intelligent (in my experience, often far more so than they would credit themselves to be) but humans in large numbers tend to be dragged down by the lowest common denominators or the weakest links or whatever other metaphor you want to use for the least impressive aspects of human beings, either between or within individuals (or both).

As for anything else, well, I’m steadily getting better from my bronchitis, which is certainly something I prefer to continuing to have it.  I’m also trying some newish shoes (not a new make or model, but a slightly tweaked size) that seems to be better for walking than some of my prior ones.

I haven’t read anything from any books in the last 10 days or so‒more or less since I started getting sick‒and though it’s weird, it may be a useful mental break.  To be honest, I’ve had a hard time getting into any books recently, whether fiction or nonfiction, and maybe I just need to clear my head before starting back into things.

Of course, I could go and do some Brilliant dot org stuff and really bone up on my STEM* knowledge.  I could also work on learning some new languages using Babbel, of which I am a subscriber.  I had thought about learning Russian‒women speaking Russian just sound really…good for some reason, and I thought it might be nice to be able to converse with such women‒but given recent politics and conflicts, it’s slightly awkward to be learning Russian right now.  I’d also love to learn more German, or maybe French, and I could use a bit of refreshing on my Spanish, which is rusty.

Unfortunately, Babbel doesn’t really have any Asian languages, or I’d want to use it to improve my Japanese.  I’m a fan and proponent of learning other languages‒I think doing so helps one understand one’s own native language better and to grasp the structure and nature of languages and of thought itself, or at least the logical conveyance thereof.

More likely and more seriously, I’ve been thinking about doing some more deep learning on, well, deep learning, neural nets, as well as general neuroscience and computer science.  I have some background in many of these areas‒for instance, we had a truly wonderful neuroscience textbook in med school that I really loved‒but I would like to understand more.  I’m also interested in complexity and chaos theory and information theory in general.

Who knows whether any of this will ever come to fruition or if I will ever learn enough for it to matter?  It would be nice to make some contribution to human knowledge in some way, and not just by random pontifications here on a blog that’s read by maybe 30 people on a good day.

This is probably all pie in the sky stuff, anyway.  I don’t know what I’m actually going to do, except that if I’m not able to improve my chronic pain significantly, then all other bets are off.  In the meantime, I almost want to put out an appeal for requests (or a request for appeals) from readers.  It’s the sort of thing people with YouTube channels (and similar) do by getting Patreon accounts, where people pay some nominal amount to be patrons and are supposed to get some form of extra benefits through that, like recommending movies to which to react, or asking “ask me anything” type questions, that sort of thing.

I guess I wouldn’t mind people asking me to write about certain topics or subjects‒it might be better than just shouting into the vacuum, hoping someone notices.  Maybe it would get me more readers.

So , if any of you have any requests about things you want me to discuss‒within reason, of course‒then feel free to mention it in the comments below.  And by below, I mean below here on the website robertelessar.com, not on the website formerly known as Twitter or on Facebook or Bluesky or Threads or whatever.  Maybe if I were doing this as a full time job, I could commit to monitoring such venues thoroughly, but unless there is someone out there who really does want to be my patron, then I can only do this in my spare time‒like now, while I’m commuting to the office.  So please, if you actually want to give me feedback, come here to do it.

Thanks.  In the meantime, I hope you have a good week.

*I recently saw someone recommend the STEM acronym be changed to STEAM in one video from Computerphile, I think‒maybe it was Bill Maher‒because the person was pointing out that we need to have exposure to the “arts” (and humanities in general) if we want people to get exposed to interesting ideas and creativity to apply to their science, technology, engineering, and math stuff.  The argument was well made, and I’m not going to do it justice here, just bringing it up.

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I was out sick yesterday

It’s Friday, and I apologize, but I did not write a blog post yesterday (Thursday).  I also did not go into the office yesterday.  I was feeling a bit on the mend Wednesday morning, but by the evening, I was totally wiped out, and yesterday morning, I realized that I did not really have the strength to go to the office.  So I stayed at the house.

Believe me, I would have preferred otherwise.  I don’t really like the room where I live.  The only really positive things about it are, it’s where my stuff is, for what that’s worth, and it’s where I can’t randomly have people intruding on my time and energy.

It’s a bit of a paradox, or at least it’s a state with competing/conflicting forces and pressures acting upon it.  On the one hand, I am very lonely, and I really wish I had friends with whom I could speak and interact comfortably, and with whom I could do fun things.  But on the other hand, social interactions have just gotten more and more stressful for me over time, and I always feel like every relationship of any depth, that I have ever had in my life, I have screwed up, and that any future ones will likewise fall apart and fill me with regret will make my depression and loneliness even worse.

I’ve said it here before, but I am most certainly not convinced that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.  There should be caveats about that skepticism, though, since simple answers are almost always incomplete.  The answer to that issue can depend very much on how one lost one’s love.  If one lost it because of basic force majeure, something beyond anyone’s control, it might not lead to a state of absolute regret, and is much less likely to engender (or worsen) self-loathing.

But if one loses love because the person one loves, and to whom one is dedicated, decides that one is just not worth it, that they don’t want to be with one anymore despite years of time together, because one is…challenged by various issues‒well, it can be hard to blame the other person for wanting to leave, or to blame anyone else for wanting to leave, and so it can be all the more devastating, making an already tenuous self-image ever worse.

And of course, romantic relationships are intrinsically difficult.  They are also very important in many ways, though I suppose that in a brutally “red in tooth and claw” world they would be a luxury at best.

I don’t know what point I’m making.  How did I even get on this subject?  Oh, right, I was discussing the fact that I don’t like the room in which I live but that at least I’m relatively free from having other people interlope without my invitation.

The prospect of moving somewhere else also feels too stressful to contemplate, frankly.  Again, this sort of stuff is easier if one has friends and loved ones/companions.  Even if they don’t contribute to a process, just having someone with whom to be able to relax is beneficial.

I didn’t realize how lucky I was in my young life to have been the third born of three kids, so I always had people older than I looking out for me.  I also stayed in the same school system from kindergarten through senior year of high school.  Then I stayed with a new, basic friend group through college, and that was helpful, especially since they were all people with similar interests and intelligence levels.

Then, of course, after college I got married and (apart from medical school) my wife was basically my “special interest”.  I think that’s sort of the way I am, at least about friendships and romantic relationships (though there is a very small sample size of the latter).

So, I didn’t really seek out or desire any serious other friendships while I was married.  Unfortunately, that meant that, once my wife “broke up” with me, I didn’t really have anyone around for support.  But there were people who were more than willing to take advantage of the things I was good at and who relied on the fact that I was not good at recognizing manipulations and ulterior motives and so on.

Then, of course, I ended up being a guest of the Florida DOC, precisely because I was such a handy sucker/fool.

I don’t know why I’m going into all this nonsense.  I don’t think it’s likely to achieve anything, except to convey the fact that I know I have gradually lost a lot of good things that I had that made me able to tolerate and even enjoy living in the human world.  But I didn’t know they served that function, and now that they are gone, I don’t know how to do it on my own.

Oh, well, it’s not like anyone is guaranteed any good things when they’re born, and even most of the things we think of as “rights” are not really something any part of nature lets us take for granted, apart from death itself.

On that upbeat note, have a good day, please.

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Please eschew sour grapes, or at least don’t chew them…they’re sour.

I don’t really remember what I wrote yesterday; I remember that I was angry, but it wasn’t really about anything solid or sharp, more just a general sense of frustration and despair.  I really felt and feel at a loss, with no sense of meaning or purpose or deep value.

I can’t claim to think that feeling is unreasonable; the world provides plenty of evidence for the pointlessness of all things.  I suspect that most people just try to avoid thinking about it.  They distract themselves with religions and other ideologies and with social interactions, whiling away their time until everything finally breaks down and they die.

Some surely die in a state of bewilderment and fear, never having accepted or even having truly contemplated their own mortality.  Some probably find comfort in the aforementioned religious ideas or just in community.  Having the love of family and friends, especially if such people are with them near the end, must help relieve at least some of the dread and pain as things wind down.

It must be at least some comfort if, when one is dying, one has loved ones nearby, helping to provide reassurance or at least just company.  If one has loved ones who willingly and lovingly attend to them while they are dying, or even just want to be there with them, one must at least be able to think that one has done something right in life.

Anyway, I’m on my way into the office, still rather sick but definitely improving.  I’m coughing, but not as badly, and the goo I’m bringing up is thinning out and looking less like some weird, opaque resin made from peas.  I’m still far from optimal, but then, I only started getting sick about six days ago.  If I’m substantially over it by, say, Friday, well that will have been a decently circumscribed illness, especially considering just how badly I’ve been feeling.

Somewhat ironically, my illness at least distracted me‒temporarily‒from the degree of my back, hip, ankle, and shoulder/arm pains, and those are becoming more prominent again as the illness recedes.  This leads me to wonder to what degree interferons or “tumor necrosis factors” and other aspects of the immune response can have beneficial effects on chronic pain, or if indeed they can do so at all.

It might be interesting to do a retrospective study involving, say, people who were treated with strong doses of interferon (with ribavirin) for Hepatitis C, or even for cancers such as melanomas, and who came out the other end healthy, then to try to learn whether any of them had chronic pain before starting treatment, and how the pain responded to the treatment.  We could compare them to age (and otherwise) matched cohorts who did not receive any such interferon treatments but who had similar amounts of chronic pain and see if their courses differed in a statistically significant way.

Of course, those high-dose interferon treatments for Hep C had their own serious complications and side-effects.  For instance, they could trigger serious depression even in people with no previously known disposition to have mood disorders.  These outcomes were generally worth the risk, if one could thereby eliminate chronic Hepatitis C, which is associated with significant morbidities and pathologies, not the least of which are potential liver cancer and sclerosis.

Still, if I could go through, say, a six week course of such treatment and thereby reduce (or eliminate) my chronic pain, I think it would probably be worth it.  I’m depressed and suicidal anyway.

Of course, we’re a long way from such a study outcome, even if we had unlimited funding and could start the study tomorrow.  Money can help make a lot of things easier to do, but as Kansas pointed out in Dust in the Wind, money has no effect on time*, and some things just take time.

I don’t expect to see such a study done, let alone to be able to benefit from the results, and honestly, I don’t have a high credence that it would show clinically useful effects.  After all, my own pain is not diminished now as I’m getting over my illness; it’s just changing back to baseline.  And, unfortunately, taking a vacation from one pain to another only to come back to the original one is probably not something anyone would really seek out***.

That’s enough for today.  I hope you all have a decent one‒do please try, at least.  Someone should, and it would be nice if most such people were reader-types who like blogs rather than wealthy assholes who don’t give much of a shit about anyone else, though those are the people who seem most likely to have happy days most often.

Not that wealth means someone is undeserving of happiness; that’s a non sequitur, really‒sour grapes projected onto the world by those who resent and envy the wealthy (sometimes with good reason, sometimes without).

Do your best.

*Okay, if you had enough money, all in one place**, you might form a massive enough object that it would measurably slow the local passage of time.  Heck, you could make a “money black hole” if you could get enough of it together and compress it enough, and at the event horizon, time would stop (to an outside observer, anyway).  Of course, according to GR, a black hole is a black hole is a black hole, with only mass, angular momentum, and charge differentiating one from another, so it wouldn’t matter if the black hole was made out of money.  Quantum mechanics demands otherwise, though, and thus we have the famous “black hole information paradox”, which isn’t really a paradox, anymore than is the “Fermi paradox” (When you come to an apparent paradox or contradiction, that’s just an alert, saying “something you’re doing here is incorrect or incomplete.”)

**Even if you’re just storing that money as information, with no bills or coins, there is still energy associated with the information, always.  So enough information about enough money could still have gravitational effects.

***Then again, there is the phenomenon of deliberate self-harm, and I can tell you from experience, it is sometimes a way of diverting oneself from a pre-existing, chronic pain to another pain, one deliberately and personally chosen.  Does that count as a pain vacation?

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No April foolishness in this post

I am not making any jokes or or otherwise messing about in an “April Fools” sense here today.  I despise “pranks” of the sort that people tend to pull on April Fools’ Day, and think people who do them should be castrated/spayed/neutered immediately.  No, I’m not kidding.  Maybe I wouldn’t ever actually carry out that sort of penalty‒I am a bit of a softy sometimes‒but that is my urge when even merely contemplating such deliberate, quasi-malicious trickery.  Actually, that’s my restrained, milder response.  Most of the time I feel murderous at pranks, even when I’m not the target.

It’s the start of a new month, and I am not enthusiastic about it.  Still, it’s not as though I can do much to avoid it.  It’s one of those stupid, inexorable things in the world that make it so often so repugnant.

I think I’m going to try to avoid discussing updates about my ongoing “plan” from now on.  It just seems to make other people upset or sad or concerned, but it doesn’t actually motivate any kind of active response of any kind.  It’s like the memes say, when someone’s mental illness‒especially suicidal thoughts‒is made open and discussed, such people are avoided, they are called “attention-seeking”, they are told to toughen up or stop complaining, to smile, to get out and exercise, to seek support of friends and those who love you‒as if those weren’t the very people you want to avoid burdening or inconveniencing.

It’s only after someone actually commits suicide that people start saying things like “I wish I could have done something,” or saying that they didn’t know, that they didn’t see it coming and so on.  But of course, they had warning, they had information, if not awareness, and they could have done something.  But they figured it was up to the person having the trouble to seek help.  As if someone whose brain is not functioning properly has the wherewithal to help themselves, especially when they are on their own and have no local support system whatsoever, and other issues including chronic pain, insomnia, and neurodevelopmental issues.

They might as well tell someone with liver failure to just buck up and for crying out loud get back to using that liver to cleanse the various toxins from their blood and to process their food and maintain the biliary system and all that goes with the liver, when it’s the liver that is failing.

I’m not saying that all people are like that, of course.  There are people who definitely try to do what they can.  They are few and far between, however.

It doesn’t matter, I guess.  Nothing does.  And I am certainly no one’s idea of a worthy cause, to be honest.  So I guess I shouldn’t feel snippy about the fact that there’s no way for me to be rescued.

I don’t know what else to write about, otherwise.  Maybe I shouldn’t write about anything.  Maybe I should just quit writing.  Maybe I should quit trying to pretend that anything I say or do is of any importance or even interest.  It’s a bit pathetic.

I’m just tired.  I’m tired of trying to “fit in”, tired of trying to pretend to be positive, tired of trying to pretend to be healthy so that I don’t inconvenience other people too much.  It’s all bullshit.  I’m not healthy, I’m not happy, and I haven’t been in years.  I see no positive future for me.  There is only an ongoing stretch of years, decades, who knows how long, alone, depressed, in pain, an outsider, an alien, a stranger, who will die alone in the end.

I have often been the one providing support for others throughout my life.  I always tried to be there for people.  I volunteered in various places, tutored and helped out first other kids and then younger people, and of course, I went to medical school and became a doctor.  Even in prison I worked in education, trying to help other prisoners get their GEDs.  Maybe some part of me was thinking that was an investment‒that if I tried to be and do good, to help others, when it was my time to need help, I would be worthy of getting it, worthy of rescue.

Of course, that’s not how the universe works.  If anything, when left to its own devices, the universe rewards selfish assholes, at least in the short term.  In the long term, everyone dies anyway, good or bad, and how much a person suffers in the meantime is in no way dependent upon how good or evil a person is.  And there is no credible reason I have ever encountered to suspect that matters will be set right in some form of afterlife.  It’s all just futile and maddening.

Anyway, that’s enough for now.  Obviously I’m very grumpy, and I’m still sick (though maybe slightly less so than yesterday), and I don’t want to deal with anything!  I want to rest.  I want to escape.  There’s nothing for me here.  “I don’t want to spoil the party, so I’ll go.”  Or at least, I ought to go.

I don’t know.  I am at a loss.

I hope you all are doing and feeling far better than I am and do.  Please try to have a good day and a good month.

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It seems appropriate that coughin’ and coffin sound alike.

It’s Monday again, though I know of no one who asked it to be.  I am not going to write much today (I suspect) because I am quite under the weather‒I’ve been dealing with some form of bronchitis that started Friday, and I’m not feeling much better yet, though my oxygen saturation seems good, and I have no fever (but then again, I am always on NSAIDS and acetaminophen, so it’s hard to be sure I haven’t just suppressed a fever).  By rights, I should probably not be going into the office today, but my coworker is out of town until tomorrow, so basically, I’ve got to keep the office running.

I do have masks to wear, and I don’t just mean fun and/or scary ones.  Neither do I refer to “autistic masking” which is what many autistic people do to fit in with other, neurotypical people.  Lord knows I’ve always tried to fit in, and I definitely put on “masks” and tried to shape myself to please those around me.  I feel almost that my autism presented a little more the way it does in girls than in “traditional” autistic boys, at least as discussed by other people with autism.

Anyway, I’m not really doing this blog as a venue via which to discuss ASD.  That must be the case, since I didn’t even consider the possibility before the last few years, and this blog has existed for much longer.  I suppose it might be interesting for someone (but not me!) to look back at my older posts and see if there are any hints about ASD in the way I write or discuss things.  I doubt that I’m interesting enough for anyone ever to do that, though‒I certainly don’t find myself interesting enough.

It may go without saying that I did not play guitar or go for any walks except to the convenience store this weekend.  I was mostly just laying around and trying to rest.  It’s a bit annoying that I still didn’t sleep well, and only stayed asleep for a while under the effects of delta 9 gummies and 2 Benadryl.  I slept a little more than usual, but of course, it’s not really restorative sleep.

I wonder what it is about the autistic brain that leads to the tendency to sleep poorly.  Is it atypia in the hypothalamus, or are the effects on the amygdala leading to hypervigilance which is consistent with my tendency?  I don’t know for sure how well the neuroscience of autism is progressing, but I guess I could get on Google Scholar and/or check the preprint servers.

Anyway, I think I’m pretty much done for right now.  I’m really very tired and worn down.  I guess I’ll be talking to you all tomorrow, though it’s less likely that you’ll be talking to me.  In the meantime, if you’re able, please try to have a good day.

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“Don’t you know you’re gonna…”

It’s Friday morning, at last.  I don’t know whether or not I’ll be working tomorrow, but either way, I’m glad the main week is done.  I feel as though these five days have lasted for months.

My pain seems to be creeping back toward its baseline level, which still sucks, but it’s way better than it has been earlier this week.  I hope it doesn’t just bounce back up once I’ve become relieved (relatively).  That would really bite.

I’ve been trying to exercise carefully and consistently, and that’s at least been okay.  I’m also always trying to adjust my shoes and socks from day to day, just to see if they make any difference.  Sometimes they seem to do so.  Of course, I’m being quite unscientific about this, changing more than one variable at once (and of course it’s very hard to do blinded studies, let alone double-blinded ones, when one is working on oneself).  There is a fair amount of desperation involved in all of this, which is probably not too surprising when one is trying to relieve or at least diminish pain.

I have had no ideas or inclination regarding any new stories, nor have I even touched a guitar.  I’ve spent a fair amount of time puttering through Threads and occasionally Instagram to distract myself (and sometimes BlueSky and the other one).  I’m following them at least partly out of novelty; they are websites I’ve never really used prior to recent weeks to months, so they haven’t gotten too boring yet.  Also, it was through Threads that I found the place that did my autism assessment, so that’s a real benefit.  But such short-format, chaotic sites discourage (albeit unintentionally) any depth and nuance of discussion.

Of course the Website Formerly Known As Twitter has always been a bit of a cesspool, precisely because it just encourages the equivalent of interaction via sound bite.  And since Musk®, by Elon™  has taken it over, both it and he have gotten worse.  I almost cannot believe that he indulges himself in such illogic and irrationality as he seems to do on the site, and that it has so leaked over into his real life.  Then again, even Ayn Rand, a fierce advocate of reason, fell victim to her own personality cult.

These are examples of the fact that it can be very difficult to maintain one’s clear-headedness without any input from others, and firm input at that.  This is why we have peer review in science (and various incentives to disprove each other in rigorous ways).

No great mind is ever error free, not even the greatest, whoever that might be.  It’s probably not possible for any finite mind to be error free*, and I’m not sure that even an infinite mind, if such an idea makes sense, could be error free.

Of course, none of it really matters in the long run, but in the short run there is much needless suffering in the world that could at least be mitigated if people would just calm down a bit and try to let reason govern them.  Alas, that’s an awful lot to ask of naked house apes.  They are saddled with all the evolutionary history that leads such jumped-up monkeys to hurl their feces at each other more often than to seek mutual understanding.

They also have a regrettable tendency to feel that they are right, that they just know something, and to be aggressively opposed to self-doubt.  That, I suspect, may be the attribute that will lead to the demise of the human race and possibly all other life on this planet.

I know the studies have been inconsistently replicated, but there are some experiments that indicate that people with depression evaluate themselves (and presumably the world) more realistically than those who are not prone to it.  Other people all tend to rate themselves above the median in most things**, whereas depressed people seem inclined to accuracy, not merely to downgrade themselves (at least when not actively depressed).

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, self-confidence beyond a certain minimum requirement is inherently suspect.  I don’t trust people who trust themselves too much; they are much more likely to make errors and not to correct them, and then to compound and double down on such errors.  Current US politics is awash with this monkey-work, as is big business, and it can only be sustained for so long before the bubble must burst, and a bursting bubble is a violent event that can cause a great deal of harm.

This dysfunction of thought and communication is not isolated in the political right, though currently their pathologies are more immediately consequential and potentially disastrous.  But the left has its share of unthinking monkeys, too, and they often encourage and trigger the monkeys on the right.

As for me, I don’t consider myself a member of either camp.  I am orthogonal overall to the left-right axis of human politics.

And with that peculiar statement, I’ll bring this post, and hopefully this week, to a close.  If I work tomorrow, I’ll probably write a post.  Either way, please try to have a good day and a good weekend.

*Though errors are free in that you don’t have to pay for them in advance‒but they can cost you after the fact.

**It’s possible, in principle, for most people to be above average, when by average you refer to the arithmetic mean, but it is not possible‒by definition‒for the majority of people to be above the median.

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“You gave me no warnin’ of what was to be”

“Monday, Monday…so good to me.”  So sang The Mamas and the Papas, though I’ve always thought those lyrics were strange.  I mean, who thinks that way about Monday?  The singer(s) is/are disabused of their fondness for Mondays already by the end of the first verse, at least if I follow its meaning, but I’ve never met anyone, as far as I can remember, who expressed such initial fondness for Monday, the beginning of the school/work week.

Looking back, I myself am probably the person who came closest to feeling that way of all the people I’ve known, back when I was in grade school and high school.  I’ve never had a great relationship with idle time, honestly, and I liked to learn, so Monday was good.  Also, my friends were at school.

I don’t know what to write about today, to be honest.  I’m working on my “project” of course, and taking steps toward its resolution.  I don’t think very much has changed yet, if anything.  I can certainly tell you that, so far, my pain has not diminished.  But I wouldn’t expect it to have disappeared so quickly with minimal (if any) physical alteration.

I’m getting a bit lost about things with which to fill my mental time.  I’m not really reading much anymore, fiction or nonfiction.  I did start rereading Unanimity:  Book I over the last few days.  I’m liking it, as far as it goes, though I appreciate when we leave Charley Banks’s point of view and get into the heads of the various other characters.  Charley is both the initial protagonist and the definite villain of the book, and boy does he do some truly horrible stuff, and it can be disquieting to be in his POV.

I’ve said to others that while of course the villain and title character of The Vagabond does or means to do more terrible things and more willfully so than Charley, the horror in The Vagabond is mainly supernatural style horror.  Charley, on the other hand, does horrific things that humans could, in principle, do to other humans.  In that sense, it’s a quasi-realistic horror story.  It’s not fully realistic, like Solitaire, but superficially nothing flagrantly supernatural happens.

Mind you, though it may carry the trappings of sci-fi horror, the things that happen in Unanimity are, in my mind at least, really not scientifically plausible, so I consider it supernatural horror.  This is in contrast to The Chasm and the Collision, which seems like a fantasy adventure story but which is, if you look closely, a science fiction story.  It’s wildly speculative science fiction, but so is Stranger in a Strange Land.

Anyway, I obviously don’t have much of consequence to cover.  It’s not as though my discussion is going to give anyone any new insights into my books, because no more than a handful of people have ever read (or ever will read) any of my books.  So I’m mostly just spitting in a high wind and seeing where it lands…which won’t matter, because no matter where it lands, it’s almost immediately going to dry out and be nothing.

Whatever.  I apologize for my constant grumpiness.  I am in pretty significant pain already today, but I’m trying* to work on it.  I’m constantly trying‒trying new shoes, new socks, new spandex joint braces, new medicine combinations, new forms of exercise and ways of doing the exercise I already do, avoiding specific foods, all that stuff and more.  I do not just saunter through life shrugging about my pain and my depression and my horrible social anxiety and giving up and not trying to improve.  I don’t give up on tasks very easily, and I try hard to be as rigorous in my attempts as is feasible in one life without the ability to do controlled (let alone blinded) trials.

I’m not optimistic about good outcomes when it comes to my present goal/strategy/plan of either improving my pain or killing myself.  People who say that, after enough torture, someone will beg for death are not lying.  Everyone has their limits, though some people’s limits are awe-inspiring, and death comes to them before they break.  But to have that strength requires some kind of meaning or purpose or at least a social connection.

We’ve all surely seen human interest reports of people who face terminal (or merely deadly) illnesses or accidents or losses but keep upbeat and positive  and either defeat their illness or come to terms with it or die with dignity in an inspiring manner.  Such stories almost always (in my limited sample, anyway) show people who have strong social supports, of friends or families or groups with solidarity and purpose.

You never see shows about the people who are alone and face a terminal or painful illness without even medical insurance or friends or family or other support nearby.  That’s because those people die like they lived‒alone and unnoticed.  Also, one can’t easily sell advertising with an after-school special about the secluded man who dies of complications of cancer and is only found when his rent is overdue or because the neighbors make a complaint about the smell that turns out to be his rotting corpse.

That’s enough for today, I think.  I’m sure you’re all inspired and uplifted by my beautiful words (ha ha).  I hope that you are inspired and uplifted by something, anyway.

It may be a fool’s errand, philosophically, to try even to begin to discern who deserves happiness.  But heck, you might as well try to be happy if you can, as long as you’re not doing it by making other people less happy.  Mutual exchange to mutual benefit is entirely possible, and is responsible for many if not most of the good and pleasant things we have in the world.  The universe may be truly zero sum and zero outcome in the end‒if the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics holds true‒but it can nevertheless have a positive integral, the sum of the area under the curve across time.  It is mathematically possible.

There’s nothing that guarantees it, of course.  It can also have a negative overall integral in principle.  Whether that will be the case or the other will depend, at least locally, on human behavior and choices.

I’m not optimistic.

*Fuck you, Yoda, you’re just wrong about the “trying” thing.  It was your self-important arrogance that contributed more than anyone else’s input, to the decadence of the Jedi that left them vulnerable to the Sith.

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Why would mice and men plan things together? Small wonder such plans go awry.

It’s Friday, as you know if you’re reading this on the day it’s posted.  I’m writing this on my smartphone because I didn’t feel like bringing my laptop computer with me when I left the office yesterday, but I’m beginning to regret it slightly.  My thumbs have still not completely recovered from their inflammation.  Perhaps they will never fully recover.  Who knows?  But it’s certainly the case that writing on the computer is much easier and more “natural” for me.

I will be working tomorrow if the office is open, and if so I will probably write a blog post.  For the past two weekends the office has not been open, since we had so few people willing to come in.  But maybe this weekend will be different, though we still have a lot of people out of the office.

As for anything else, well…I haven’t backslid on what to eat so far, in that I am following a path that should be good or at least useful.  I must say, though, there were times yesterday‒there are such times many days‒when I thought that maybe what I ought to do is just lock myself in the house and eat ice cream and cookies in huge quantities until it kills me.

Unfortunately, it takes a very long time to kill oneself that way, I’ll wager.  The body has a very high capacity to store calories before it completely breaks down and falls apart.  Individual mileage will vary, of course, but the mileage is long.  Such a course might be enough to make me stop liking ice cream and/or cookies, but that’s not the specific goal.

Yesterday I was also contemplating, both to myself and with my coworker, what I might be like if I had not had my back injury a little over 20 years ago.  I think I said something like, “You should see what I would be like if I didn’t have chronic pain.  You have no idea.”

I don’t have specific ideas myself either, but I do know that I used to be someone who‒when not suffering from too much chronic depression and apparently autistic burnout‒could do just about anything to which I put my mind.  For instance, I decided to apply to medical school more or less as an afterthought, but I never doubted that I could get in or that I could become a doctor.

It’s not that I was cocky.  Self-confidence of that sort has been something I occasionally pretended to have, but it’s not my natural state.  I just considered medical school an eminently soluble problem and proceeded to solve it.

Medical school does not involve a mentally super-challenging curriculum.  There’s a lot of information to internalize, of course, but none of it involves dealing with any counterintuitive notions.  There are rarely any complex numbers or linear algebra or calculus or differential geometry involved in medicine!  Quantum mechanics essentially never comes into play, except perhaps in describing vaguely how MRIs and PET scans work.

Anyway, things being so stochastic, it’s very difficult to imagine what I or my life would be like if I had never developed my chronic pain and back problem.  I might still be working in Winter Park as a doctor; I might still be married; and I would be much more likely to be with my kids, or at least to be able to see and interact with them.  I would also probably be much less grumpy than I am.  I don’t know how my autism itself would change its presentation.  Maybe I never would have sought out or even considered the diagnosis.

I guess it’s pointless to contemplate these things.  We cannot change the past.  Still, one of the big strengths of the human brain (or a pseudo-human brain) is the ability to contemplate counterfactuals as simulations so one can make decisions based on assessment of potential outcomes, colored by past experience and knowledge, rather than having to do everything trial-and-error, with death weeding out the worst local failures.

Still, all I can see stretching before me if I cannot reduce my pain and try to get better sleep at the least is loneliness (which is what I deserve, I guess) and pain and never-ending fatigue, with intermittent forced distraction.  That’s not worth the risk, especially since, in that scenario, an accidental or medical death would be one of the better outcomes.

Anyway, my resolve hasn’t changed since I discussed it earlier this week.  In the meantime, I hope you have a good day.  If I work tomorrow, I will probably write another post.  If not, I won’t.