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PN and handwriting …

Neuropathy | Last Active: Jul 29 1:36pm | Replies (54)

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@cheyne

Hi Ray,
It's funny I was always told I had not brains and was the black sheep of the family. Started out as a watch and instrument maker which took me to USA for 6 years where I discovered I was more than good in my field. When I returned to NZ I took on a job of designing and building scientific instruments for the NZ government, during this time I discovered I had skills that where there all along, unrecognised. I ended up leaving that with RSI in both arms returning to the watchmaking bench 11 years later. The abilities never left me and eventually opened my own shop. Twelve years ago I was stuck down with a severe bout of Campylobacta which we are now finding gave me Autonomic polyneuropathy and damaged kidneys as they shutdown for 18 hours at the time. I'm pretty much self taught in my fields and formally designed and built top class RC yachts. Now I find all the skills I had to teach myself are still there, mathimatics survives the ANS as does my ability to drive really well. Many years of motor racing and it has become automatic responce with driving. It is the autonomic features that are causing me troubles, the things that the brain does through habitual practice remain as sharp as ever only let down by the motor skill randomly corrupting the instructions to do as instructed. It also has a firm hold of my bowels, bladder and digestive system permanently interfering with the functions and loves to play havoc with my lungs, blood pressure, stability, memory and brain. Being someone with precision skills it is desastrous to not have those function when I command them.
I now spend my days playing with CNC machines I have built, which keeps the brain occupied and stops the hybernation I would gravitate to otherwise.
Cheers

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Replies to "Hi Ray, It's funny I was always told I had not brains and was the black..."

Hi, cheyne

Whereas you were told ‘hadn’t the brains’ (which is impossible to believe!), I was told just the opposite: everything I did was applauded by parents and teachers alike. Being treated like that is equally damaging, perhaps more so. I was set up to believe I couldn’t fail at anything, no matter what I might lay my hand to. The comeuppance came in college; suddenly I was surrounded by people who could do things better than I could. Still, a belief in my invincibility lingered. That sense of invincibility persisted throughout my life, down to these recent years. Hearing that I had PN, an incurable disease, was a tough morsel to swallow. ‘What do you mean by incurable, doctor? Don’t you know I’m invincible? You’d better recheck your charts.’ What a fool I was! These past 18 to 24 months (since my diagnosis) have been a lesson in vulnerability––in vulnerability and in how to ask for help. I still tell friends not to rush in to help me unless I’ve asked for help. I’m stubborn that way, and I expect I will always be. When I’ve asked for help, and a friend steps up to lend a hand, I’ll be sincerely grateful and sure to say so. But if I find help is being offered when I’ve not asked for any, I’ll say––as politely as I can––‘Please, let me do this for myself.’ So, on the one hand, I’ve learned the rewards of vulnerability, but on the other hand, I’m still ‘me,’ a stubborn loner who enjoys being a loner and wishes to remain one so long as body, mind, and spirit hold out.

Cheers,
Ray