Peripheral Neuropathy & Conversation Fatigue?

Good morning, Ed (@njed), Tessie (@tessie63), Debbie (@dbeshears1)

Most everyone here on Connect fits the definition of “birds of a feather.” So many of our posts, revealing some nuance of our “condition,” are met by the same reply: “What? Me, too!” It's been that way following my original post about “conversation fatigue.” Some are comforted by lots of conversation, others are turned off, most seem to fall somewhere in between: they like that their family and friends care enough to ask, but they don’t want medical yakkity-yak to be all that’s ever talked about. I think of it as “conversation management”: in ways that are subtle and polite, I try to manage the flow of conversation, allowing for a dollop of medical talk if it’s apparent my friend would truly like to hear from me how I’m doing, but then teasing our talk in some other direction––for both of our sakes! I’m facing a conversation management challenge this evening. My partner and I will meet the couple who are interested in renting my partner’s house. The ”he” of the couple is a high IQ, high energy, genuinely lovable guy, a college prof, but who is a long-time diabetes sufferer whose sensory nerve damage has left him with balance issues that are almost a match for my own. The conversation management challenge is he LOVES talking not only about how he’s doing with his balance but also about the latest “cures” he’s found online. On one hand, it amuses me: despite his sky-high IQ, he’s the world’s biggest sucker for snake oil. (God knows what sure-bet substance he’ll bring to me this evening, wrapped in foil!)

Best wishes to you all for a wonderful weekend!
Ray (@ray666)

You need a good conversation redirect 😁 something like “Hey, how about those Chicago Cubs?” Or “Have you noticed how much it costs to eat out?”.

I was thinking of trying something like, "What's that out in the backyard? It looks like a bear, but it's waaaay too big for a bear."

@dbeshears1 - Debbie, I know where you're coming from when it comes to others wondering why I now walk with a cane. It does surprise me how many people never heard of peripheral neuropathy. The usual comment is something like....oh, isn't that some kind of numbness in the feet? Where do you start? I try not to get engaged into a conversation about PN. I will normally answer with a simple yes. And I change the subject. Others may not want to discuss something they know little about. A few times I've tried to give some details and the why will then come up which many of us can't even explain. I think most people don't want the details; all they want to know if that you're OK. As you said some are curious and well meaning. In spring of this year, I ran into someone I haven't seen for a while and noticed my cane. He asked what happened. I said I hurt my ankle. He is the type with many questions, and he said that's too bad, and he kept walking. It worked! Stay well and keep moving. Ed

Good morning, Ed (@njed), Tessie (@tessie63), Debbie (@dbeshears1)

Most everyone here on Connect fits the definition of “birds of a feather.” So many of our posts, revealing some nuance of our “condition,” are met by the same reply: “What? Me, too!” It's been that way following my original post about “conversation fatigue.” Some are comforted by lots of conversation, others are turned off, most seem to fall somewhere in between: they like that their family and friends care enough to ask, but they don’t want medical yakkity-yak to be all that’s ever talked about. I think of it as “conversation management”: in ways that are subtle and polite, I try to manage the flow of conversation, allowing for a dollop of medical talk if it’s apparent my friend would truly like to hear from me how I’m doing, but then teasing our talk in some other direction––for both of our sakes! I’m facing a conversation management challenge this evening. My partner and I will meet the couple who are interested in renting my partner’s house. The ”he” of the couple is a high IQ, high energy, genuinely lovable guy, a college prof, but who is a long-time diabetes sufferer whose sensory nerve damage has left him with balance issues that are almost a match for my own. The conversation management challenge is he LOVES talking not only about how he’s doing with his balance but also about the latest “cures” he’s found online. On one hand, it amuses me: despite his sky-high IQ, he’s the world’s biggest sucker for snake oil. (God knows what sure-bet substance he’ll bring to me this evening, wrapped in foil!)

Best wishes to you all for a wonderful weekend!
Ray (@ray666)

Ed - Sense of humor is so important! I might try that line some time. I live in a complex with a clubhouse and by being on the social events committee, I run (waddle) into people at different frequencies. It seems there are more infrequent (monthly) run-ins who greet me with “Aren’t you better yet?” I just politely brush it off with saying I have something that won’t get better. This is a 55+ Community…. There are more people with hip & knee replacements or Pickleball injuries than any of us can keep up with, even those of us who still have good memory 😊 So I don’t blame folks for thinking I’m like the majority of folks here with something fixable.

Debbie - Oh...I forgot you are in an over 55 community. Guess there is no way of getting away from the questioning. And, being very active in the community, you are no doubt asked about how you are doing. I'd take it that they are concerned and care about you. Ed

Ed - I was at my husband’s Pickleball Club holiday party this weekend and seated by the club president who asked… he couldn’t comprehend how I could not be fixed, how an athlete lost their leg use like I did. I got a very long story how I needed to go to Mayo, how they fixed some very complicated disease or cancer of a relative. It reminded me that “Have you gone to Mayo” is a popular bit of advice, and I think if there’s a chance for help Mayo would be the one to provide it. But as you know, some things are just not solveable yet, even by the best. So as you say. We Keep Moving the best we can.

Hi Debbie ~
I have a good friend with whom I used to work, and often when someone would ask about another's wellbeing, they'd respond not with a word of empathy or encouragement, but with a litany of their own medical woes or treatments or outcomes, or even those they'd heard of. We named this: "How can I make this story my own?" and it always made us grin.
Happy Monday,
Barb