Fighting Tooth And Nail

That’s what I am doing. Fighting ‘Tooth and Nail’. Nothing seems easy and it’s as if it’s one thing after another. Know the feeling?

When I was at high school I read a book that affected me profoundly. It was New Zealand book Tooth And Nail: the story of a daughter of the Depression by Mary Findlay. I read it firstly because at the time I was interested in the era of The Great Depression. I think we had been studying it in History class. My second reason for reading it was that the author, Mary Findlay was the great-grandmother of one of my closest friends.

She fought Tooth and Nail.  Amazon describe the book as this:

“This a the true story of Mary Findlay during the bitter days of the Depression. When her mother dies and her drunkard father harasses her, Mary is forced to fight tooth and nail for food, work and a place to live.”

It affected me profoundly not just because of the connection to my friend but also that it was a life lived much harder than anything I had ever known. My life seemed easy by comparison.

Right now nothing seems easy. There is one thing after another. I’m sure there are those in my life who still think I have it easy. I don’t have a 60 hour a week job, I don’t have, say four children, nor do I have a partner to think about. It’s true. Compared to Mary Findlay’s life I perhaps have it easy. But to me, nothing seems easy right now. And when it all boils down, it is the person’s own perception that matters.

I could easily write a post about each of what I see as my current hardships. But I haven’t. Mostly because at the time there haven’t been words, and so you won’t have seen posts from me since before Christmas. But here is a taste.

  • My 88-year-old (yes, she had a birthday) is deteriorating fast. Her physical health continues to be great, but her mental health in the form of Alzheimer’s Disease is going down hill fast. I’m learning as I go. Some days there is little to recognise the woman she was in my growing up years. And tomorrow? I face what happens to Mum next in terms of the care she needs now.
  • My doctor stripped me of Fibromyalgia. He says I don’t have it, even after four years of being treated for it and having originally been diagnosed with it by a doctor with more qualifications and experience. Apparently I simply need some Art Therapy (yes, really!) to cure my symptoms. Thankfully a few weeks after this pronouncement he announced he was leaving the country permanently. I am to be assigned a new doctor, and time will tell just what s/he will have to say.
  • My dentist has just presented me with a whopping $2,000 (that’s a whole lot of money in NZ) quote for the work I need to stop some corrosion happening in my mouth. Hear this, if you take medication regularly. The $2,000 problem is caused by dry mouth and having been on lithium for the last 12 or so years. Both of these have a terrible effect on teeth. Right now I’m still trying to pick myself up off the floor. I was gobsmacked! I am likely to have these dental issues for the rest of my life (if I listen to my Psychiatrist and stay on the medication for life, as we have previously agreed). I have no idea how I will possibly pay for this work but meanwhile, I am eating only soft foods to avoid further corrosion to my teeth (particularly my front teeth).
  • And I can’t forget the fibro symptoms of mainly pain and fatigue. You know the fibro that I don’t have? Well, those symptoms continue with more fatigue than ever. I go deal with whatever needs dealing, and then come home and collapse, literally. Day after day.

That’s just a taste, perhaps the really big issues, and maybe that doesn’t seem like a ‘tooth and nail’ battle. But it is. Like I suggested above, it’s how it seems to me that really matters. I might not be in the middle of the Great Depression like Mary Findlay, but it seems like my own ‘tooth and nail’ battle (emphasis on the ‘tooth’ because if I don’t find $2,000 soon I’ll be looking at whatever a pair of dentures cost).

It was a long time ago that I read Mary Findlay’s book but I still remember the impact it had on me. Maybe I didn’t learn this at the time I read the book but I know now that we can’t compare our hard times. As a 15-year-old reading that book, I thought her life was incredibly hard and mine incredibly easy. Actually, I was having my own pretty hard time back then, but I gave no value to my hardship. Now I have learnt that behind the scenes other people can be having incredibly difficult times. Harder than we can imagine. And it really isn’t possible to compare.

If I was to ask each one of you what are the hard things in your life right now, you could probably come up with your own list (like mine above but different). We all have our hardships, and all of those can have a bearing on  mental and physical health. Whether we tell others of our hard stuff or not, it’s there and we’re probably fighting a ‘tooth and nail’ battle to simply keep afloat.

I haven’t listed my current hardships out of wanting sympathy. Or wanting you to say you’re sorry for me. Rather I share it with you because maybe it reminds you that we’re not alone. We all are probably fighting ‘tooth and nail’. Life is hard, but we don’t do it alone. Just because your hard stuff is different from mine, it doesn’t stop me from being aware that you’re having a hard time. And that, makes a difference to me, so perhaps it makes a difference to you.

Thanks for reading

 

Cate

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4 thoughts on “Fighting Tooth And Nail

  1. I’m so sorry, Cate. It is a lot on your plate no matter what.

    And that doctor! UGH it almost make me want to wish he was sick too and some other doctor were as dismissive with him as he’s with you. Almost.

    There have been some breakthroughs in fibro lately. They are even talking about the possibility of a diagnostic test in the near future. I am very hopeful.

  2. Hi Cate, I’m really sorry life is so horrid for you at present. I know that regardless of what I say, my words are unlikely to have a huge impact – but I offer you my care and I wish you peace and rest and time out from pain. I wish you peace like a healing balm which soothes the soul. I feel like my words are inadequate, they don’t capture my feelings, and so I offer you virtual hugs and my friendship, and please know that I care. **hugs** **hugs** **hugs**

    1. Aw thank you pidgeon. Your words are not inadequate. They mean so much to me. While it is a hard time right now, I keep reminding myself that many people have hard times. It’s not about dismissing my own hardship or about diminishing it. It’s simply that I’m not alone, and that is something that I find helpful. I hope that makes sense. Meanwhile thanks for the hugs. Just what I needed. I hope you are well. ❤

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