Impromptu Assignment

So today was our stake conference for us to get a new stake president. As I walked in, the stake clerk greeted me and asked how I was doing. Before I could give my customary “fine” he added “vocally.” I answered honestly.

“Poorly” I said just above a whisper. I leaned close to him and said that I felt fine but that my voice just isn’t working right. He then said, “I was going to ask you to give the invocation. Can you do that?”

I told him that I was willing to do it, but that I was concerned that I would be hard to hear. A counselor in the presidency (my former bishop) joined us at this point. He already knew what we were discussing. He said that if I felt OK, he would like me to do it; just speak right into the microphone.

I agreed to it. How hard could it be? It is just a prayer. I have no fear of public speaking. I do have a little fear of drawing attention to the “prayer giver” and therefore away from the prayer, but it is smaller than my fear of “chickening out” of any request from leaders that I sustained.

I tell people all the time that I am doing better than I sound, and that is true. My vocal limitations are my most severe symptom, and perhaps misleading. But I haven’t had a chance to tell everyone, and I’ve lived in this area a long time. Would this prayer unnecessarily alarm them? Probably. Oh well. Sorry.

As the meeting began, I was reminded that this conference was being web cast to two other buildings. Great; even more people to confuse or alarm. Including the outgoing president, there were three general authorities there.

I couldn’t help thinking, “Is there not anyone else better suited to do this? Is not everyone better suited to do this?” The answer was “Of course, but that is not relevant.”

I also couldn’t help but wonder if the Lord could not just grant me a tiny two-minute remission; not for my sake but for the meeting's. Again the answer was “Of course, but you need to work through this, not around it.” If praying in public somehow stayed this insidious disease, I’d volunteer for every prayer. No, it doesn’t work that way. The degree to which I want to use my voice for noble or virtuous means does not justify symptom reversal. “Whole” cannot be a consequence of “Good.” (If that were true, President Young would have told us given us that counsel in the last General Conference.)

The prayer was short and strained, but otherwise uneventful. I am grateful for that. (Can you imagine how long this post would be had something interesting happened?)

I noted with some irony that our outgoing Stake President said that when he was called to be an Area Authority, in a moment of introspection he thought, “Aren’t others more righteous, more knowledgeable, or are better suited for this calling?” His answer was “Yes” also.

I know it is unfair to draw a parallel between saying a prayer in public and serving as an Area Authority but I'm just saying that there was a common denominator. 

When we were asked to raise our right hand as a vote of gratitude for service rendered by the outgoing presidency, I did, but noticed that my hand seemed heavy, as if somehow my vote of thanks was somehow facilitating their release. They are great men. The good news is the two of them were put in the new presidency. The slightly troubling news was that my current bishop was the third member of the new presidency. This time the sustaining hand was definitely heavy, and it wasn’t the MS or any reservations I had about the caliber of men being sustained. It was just that I was losing a good bishop.

Memory

My 8^th grade US History teacher explained something fantastic to us. He said that during the semester, each person in the class would learn to name every US President in order, AND know the year each took office. At that time there had been 39 Presidents. The class groaned.

I didn’t really mind because I had always pretty good about remembering useless trivia, but he continued, He said that it would be easy, he knew a few memorization tricks, and that without question, every student would get it down. It seemed kind of unbelievable. There were some real goofballs (and dimwits) in the class. Just then a an office aide entered the room with a note. She had taken this class the year before. To prove his point he said, Tracey, can you tell the class who was President after Martin Van Buren?” She didn’t blink and said, “Harrison.” He asked, “And what year did he take office?” She said, “Van Buren? 1833.”

That was incredible to me. How had he done this? Without going into detail, I will say that he made good on his promise. The mind is a curious thing. Over the past 30 years, I have taken on several memorization projects; more one a dare or a whim than for any practical purposes.

For example, during the Pokemon craze of 2000? 2001? My son and I decided to learn them all. 150 characters. In numerical order. It was fun. It seemed impractical and perhaps impossible, but the mind is a curious thing. We have since forgotten the sequence, but yesterday he brought up the memory of learning them together. Good times. Then he rattled of the first three, but then paused. #4 Charmander popped into my mind.

I’m not bragging. I remembered the fourth Pokemon! I am just marveling over how the mind can work, either with intentional or unintentional memorizations. After spending a year in Argentina I found that I had unwittingly linked many hymn titles to their corresponding hymn numbers. I never set out to do this, but after using the Spanish hymnal for a year, it was just there.

At various times I have committed to memory important things like passages of scripture, inspirational verse, and even The Proclamation to the World. My mind easily recalls many birthdays; I don’t even try. I recall less important things too, like Pokemon, US Presidential history, and certain baseball card numbers.

Having a “neurological disorder” that can affect cognizance and memory has spooked me, but so far I think my mind has been unaffected. In fact, just to stay sharp (and to give me something to do when I’m too tired to do anything but think) I have embarked on my largest memorization challenge to date: All 660 baseball cards from the 1973 set, of course. I got the idea last month when my brother-in-law was here and was looking through some old cards. Seeing one obscure, all but forgotten player he said, “Clyde Mashore.” The number #401 popped into my head. He tried another, but I didn’t know it. So I don’t really know what is up there. Having spent considerable time lately selling these cards individually has provided a “head start” but still, 660? Is it even possible to retain a list that long? That is like the US Presidents, but 17 times over.  I don’t know if it is possible, but I'm going to find out. I’m almost half way there.

I know; it is useless, other than as a diversion and to push the bounds of the mind. And, in the off-chance that you find yourself needing to know a 1973 card number, I’m your man!

Voracious

So far so good through this steroid conversion. It is nothing like the first time and actually I’m feeling pretty good. I do get really tired in the afternoons and early evenings, but it is nothing that a little rest can’t fix. My walking and mobility are definitely improved. I sometimes forget how tough the first few steps had been for a while. Now they’re not. Maybe I was in denial. I don’t know.

In any case I’m grateful for this remission, and for any contribution to it, prescription or otherwise. I am developing a taste for flax oil.

Another encouraging thing I’ve noticed is the return of my appetite. Over the last few years I’ve been hungry but not that often. Eating was more of a chore that I had to do to maintain energy. And I shed 50 pounds in the process. I started noticing this weekend that I was looking forward to meal time and that everything sounded so good! A can of tuna, a hard-boiled egg, everything. Yesterday it intensified and I ate a lot. I think it is a good sign. Not only am I really enjoying everything from pretzel sticks to flax-oil and peach yogurt, but if this trend continues maybe Kara will stop pestering me to buy new clothes.

Chubby Dave is on the mend!

Smooth Sailing

OK, I’m on the “done side” of another lesson. It wasn’t great but it was fine. The material is so powerful.

Happily I don’t have any tales to tell. It was just an uneventful lesson. It was good enough, which is great.  My voice held out well enough.

Hopefully the lesson I learned was to prepare, but not to stress out. I did fairly well this week just trying not to worry. There were a million things that could have gone wrong. None did. Coming off steroids? Yeah, I felt fine. What about…anything? You know, I can get pretty creative (and dramatic) dreaming up possible trouble.

I need to remind myself that it is just a lesson, not an event, and show more faith by not internalizing worry.

Mini Update

OK, five days of the intravenous steroids and it seemed to make a world of difference. I mean, my health still isn’t ideal, and my voice is as stained as ever, but I had so much more energy and even my walking is noticeably improved. I’m not like speedy Gonzalez or energy-man or anything but going from say, 20% of normal to 60% or 70% is indescribably. I was glad to have my arm back and not have to worry about the catheter. And there are side effects to such a powerful treatment, like even more difficulty sleeping, but I have enjoyed this respite and the conversion from IV to oral today seems to be going well. I am getting so much done!  I have to be careful though; my mind routinely overestimates my physical capacity.

Tomorrow is the big test. Day 2 off the steroids and teaching. Here’s looking forward to it!

Treatment Update

I had my quarterly visit with the neurologist last week. She wants to try another round of steroids which I began today. They are delivered via intravenous infusion, at home. It is self-administered and I am doing one a day for five days.  It takes about an hour and a half.  A home health placed the catheter this morning, and it stay in the entire time.  That is kind of a pain but it is good that you only get pricked once (or twice if the first one doesn’t really work). I did have a good day today with much less fatigue. Let’s hope that marks the start of a good streak. So, if I look all buff and ripped next time you see me, it’s the steroids.

I am mildly concerned about this coming Sunday. The first time I had this treatment, the 2^nd day after completing the steroids was absolutely terrible. I think there were exacerbating circumstances then, and my neurologist this time has prescribed a pretty potent 2^nd steroid (oral) to taper the drop-off over ten days.  I’m concerned because this coming Sunday it is my turn to teach again. I guess the Silver Lining is that the topic is “overcoming anger” so I should be able to teach it even if I have some ‘roid rage!

Also, I'm getting another MRI, probably next week.

My Conference

I was looking forward to conference today. I think I always do, but maybe more acutely this time as these past few weeks have been tough. It is mostly just the overwhelming fatigue I feel for so much of the day, but also my walking and leg strength seem to be worsening. And my voice, if you can believe it. More challenging than the physical limitations is the somewhat self-inflicted mental and emotional toll. I know I’m doing it, but I seem unable to stop thought patterns that are self-defeating and absent faith.

I was hopeful that I would hear counsel specifically applicable to my circumstances, and now after listening to conference, feel the need to apologize to anyone else that listened to four hours that were aimed directly at me.

Seriously. How many talks were on, or referenced, adversity? Six? Eight? Suffice it to say I have some repenting to do. No, not the self-righteous kind, and I expect that readers of this blog give me way too much credit as if the peculiarity of the challenge itself somehow translates into virtue. It doesn’t. But I write some good stuff, and I listened to conference, doesn’t that prove my head is on straight and my moral compass is calibrated? First, I don’t write everything I feel and fear, and second, it doesn’t prove anything.

I get so frustrated when I consider my challenge with a narrow perspective. Look, I am not trying to be an inspirational anecdote.  I want my old life back! I wasn’t done being young. Like one speaker said, I do feel sometimes that it is unfair. As if! As if there is such a thing and as if the sum total of my burdens outweigh the sum total of my blessings. (They do not.) But just like my kids say, “That’s not fair!” when they really mean “That isn’t my will,” the real me knows that my life will never approach “fair.” I’ve been far too blessed.

Oh, how I need to remember the “big picture” and have more faith. (I realize that recognizing this need and blogging about it do not alone remedy it!)