Deacon Blues - June 25th

Fourth Day of Rest:   As you all know, I completed the first round of treatment and have been granted a long sabbath - or rest - to recover. Twenty three days to be exact. What is so hard on the body that it takes 23 days of rest to recover? Well the chemo, I guess. Even with this hard information and my own body's weakness, I still thought that I was able to work a shift last evening at a home for formerly homeless men. It is not a physically demanding job, but it involves traveling half way across the city by public transportation to get there. I needed the money, so thought I should do it. Bad idea. I discovered while on the phone with a friend that I was exhausted. I needed to be home resting, keeping it as simple as can be. I thought that I could simply rest, play on the computer, work on my blog-switch while earning some money. I think that it made me feel less dependent, less in need of the help of others, more in control again. Again, the treatment requires much rest and recuperation after each infusion.
I never wanted to remain dependent on anyone for anything. I started working when I was younger than paperboy age, selling pretzels from house to house during the summer. Younger still, I had a job walking the neighbor's dog for a dollar a week. Some on this list helped me deliver my Inquirer paper route when I was around 13. Some sold papers with me on the beach in Wildwood during my family's two week summer vacation there. Each day's wages were usually spent that same evening on the boardwalk with friends. It was fun, but it was a source of anxiety, too.
Today I will go and apply for temporary disability at the Social Security office. I will also apply for food stamps and whatever help with the utilities that I can get. I have never in my life been in this position before and so it is embarrassing. I have helped others - clients and friends - to get this help when needed, but never figured myself as ever needing it. It is humbling, and I know that the challenge in life is to "play best the cards that life deals you." So far, I have played them reasonably well, keeping myself afloat in the "normal" boat with the "haves" or the winners. Now I am in a different position. I learned through my medical treatment that the Health Center and the Hospital provided me with good care that I could afford. Now I need to take a few further steps and face my own pride. I guess when you ask for help, your own business to some degree becomes public knowledge. Maybe that's why it's so hard asking. I've worked with seniors or the elderly who rather than ask, do without food, proper medicine and other necessities. Ironically, they end up getting sicker and in need of more serious interventions because they wouldn't ask when they really needed it. Sometimes they lose their homes and/or their autonomy because of this fierce stratagem. I understand better their need to be independent, even when they really need assistance. I understand the fear that supports their position, but know its folly as well.

Steely Dan

I always liked the chorus from Deacon Blues by Steely Dan which I'll repeat here. I don't always claim to understand the lyrics, but appreciate them anyway. 

So here to conclude: 

They've got a name for the winners of the world
I want a name when I lose.
They call Alabama the "Crimson Tide"
They call me Deacon Blues.