Reviewing Some History

I’ve spent a bit of time over the past several days re-reading some of the earlier posts on esthermofet.com.

I’d noticed a few things.

  1. There was a distinct change from the TBI incident (nearly two years ago). Something’s changed. I’m not the same. I can’t precisely pin down what, exactly, is different. But things aren’t the same.
  2. In the earlier days, I was rather vocal about the concept of individual liberty. I still am. Very much so. I just don’t have the motivation to speak (okay, type) quite as concisely as I used to. Perhaps that was the time period that marked the height of my writing.
  3. Sometimes, YouTube clips that I’d linked to have been purged. Time passes. People delete things. Understandable, but…
  4. Any links to mainstream media types (articles, video, etc) are far more likely to have been purged. Far more likely.

Eh, it’s probably nothing.

Right?

*I don’t speak very often anymore. I used to jokingly and semi-seriously quip “I have a face for radio!” After about August, 2018, I very much have a voice well-suited to blogging.

**Also, of course, over time, I’d included a few posts from other assorted blogs that my wife and I had while we continued our shared journey with RV Life and Unlocating. We had fromtherv.com and shirleyyoujest.com (don’t go to either, they’re now controlled by squatters), but I captured and imported them here. At some point, I’ll see about tagging those posts so they can be more readily separated.

Getting Back On the Horse

A year and a half ago, I rode my bike for the first time since the fall.

I fell.

Yes, again. No, not on my head, nor from 4m above concrete.

But, I fell.

Instantly recalling the old adage from my youth, if you fall off the horse, get back on. So, I promptly picked myself back up and rode it again.

But I drew the line at the motorcycle. I most certainly didn’t have the physical coordination or psychological confidence to take the risk. I decided that I’d leave the Wee Star parked — safely garaged — and on her own wheels for however long was needed to return to riding.

Fast-forward 18 months to today:

  • 63F, clear, and windless.
  • I ran 8km as the sun rose.
  • Had an appliance repair I had to tend to.
  • I took care of the batteries in the one outlier smoke detector in the house.

Then thought there was something else — something more — that I needed to tend to before the weather quickly turns rather cold…

A safety-check on the Wee Star, started it up, and donned my helmet to give it another go.

Yes, U-turns were a bit shaky. I need to spend some time practicing them far more and get back to the 3.5m diameter idle U-turns. It was a rather quick spin around the neighborhood. A bit of quick-stop practice. And she still remained on her tires and quite unblemished. I’m rather happy about that.

I’m extraordinarily pleased that I had opted to garage the Wee Star until confidence had returned.

Sometimes, getting back on the horse will take some time.

Also, I still refuse to let the Wee Star show up at a home on a trailer. She’ll be ridden there under her own power.

Grrr…

I’ve complained before about noise. Ambient noise, white noise, just noise. It seems somewhat common from what I’ve read to be sensitive–sometimes very sensitive–to noise with the TBI. But it’s honestly freaking tiring.

Here I am, nearly two years on–today, doing a bit of simplistic home-improvement, and generating a bit of noise in the process–and I’m exhausted. Completely and totally mentally spent.

Then again, recent events may have also contributed.

Nah, it’s totally my ability to perceive audio. It will, like all things, change with time. Continuously imperceptible to me, and, in time, it will change–or I’ll become more accepting of my own perception of it.

I wonder if I should start using some mild-strength earplugs to help dampen or take the edge off of sounds on the left side.

Worth Giving a Try…

I’ve gone on a few times about some of the struggles with which I’ve contended around hearing. I’ll summarize the summaries:

Sound is a problem.

Too summarized?

Okay: sounds are familiar, but something’s not “right”.

I’ve recently started to wonder if part of the challenge is actually something of a hypersensitivity to sound. Apart from going through a period of deafness, so to speak, I wonder if that deafness was something of a neurological attenuation of sounds trying to bring them to appropriate levels for comprehension. Perhaps the initial concern that I’d made — that sounds felt effectively overdriven — may have been an accurate interpretation.

Now I find myself wondering if some mild-grade earplugs with a low NRR could be somewhat beneficial. I don’t need (nor want) a 32 dB NRR solution, which would be ideal for motorcycling or shooting sports. But it’s certainly worth giving something mild a go to see how it will impact my perception.

Permanent? I can also see that it would be as long-lived as my need for a cane has been. I found it inconvenient.

Hitting Rock Bottom?

Go have watch, and listen, and resonate:

…or a Shattered Assumption of the kind that blindsides you at 4PM… on a Friday… right before a holiday weekend… with family arriving to lazily and quite happily spend the week with you… while at the same moment, ambulances rush to take your broken body and very shattered life to a trauma center where dozens or hundreds of people work hard to save you. And you don’t have that realization until that groggy, amnesic period after awakening from the prolonged coma.

Oh… wait… sorry.

You know, a few years before that happened, I’d come to the conclusion that the best way to grow would be to step outside of your comfort-zone. Far beyond your comfort zone.

Detach yourself from any of the comforts one might enjoy in their daily life: restaurants, work, your home, people you know — even the city or nation that you know.