Help and assistance

When is it time to ask for help? I am not talking about seeking expert medical attention post-discharge. It should be clear that if your catheter comes lose and your stomach leaks through a hole, it is time to seek expert help; or if your feet swell up from the accumulation of liquid and you can hardly walk. I refer to leaning on others to lighten the load - to seek, or accept, a helping hand.
The answer is a function of the way I live and my obsession with autonomy. It does not have a static quality - it is a self-appreciation that is constantly on the move according to mood. As such, it is not a statement of what is appropriate in a generic sense; it is particular and non-transferable, and does not and cannot constitute a recipe that can be dished out for all tongueless wonders.
I need my space - and I do not like my space to be invaded. The company of others is not urgent at all times - it is a recurring need, something that waxes and wanes with the anxieties and the joys of each day; a condition that comes and goes - like herpes. I am very discriminating about time, place and people. My disability co-exists with that idea - and I am not grateful to people who invade my space with the false notion of fulfilling a need. I dominate my daily routine within the limits of my disability; I do not need someone to assume a part of my routine, or strip me of a part of my day. It is my disability, and my recovery is compromised if I cede any part of my autonomy. In exceptional cases, I recognise something is beyond me and I ask for help. I do so reluctantly, and with a sense of frustration or failure. My preference is to seek help as a last resort only - not as a slothful daily approach to getting things done.
People react to me in two ways. Those who feel an instinctive urge to help, and define that help as  a gesture of supreme goodness, as an irreproachable act of kindness, to which you must submit without objection by force of its utter generosity, are offended; they march off vowing never  to get involved again only to re-appear at a later time with the same self-interested zeal. Those who feel an obligation to help quickly draw a line and withdraw, affirming with more education than sincerity that they are willing and available to help if needed (that is, if requested). 

Naturally, during the immediate post-operative period, some kind of support is needed, like it or lump it. You need nursing care to clean and cure your wounds, to ensure a basic hygiene, to organise food and to compensate for the physical shortfall. At this stage, such support is necessary and welcome.  It is what you would expect from a nurse. When you realise your autonomy is severely compromised, because you just about fainted trying to perform a simple task for yourself, then you are grateful. In my case, this phase lasted about 3 months - but at the end of that time I had recovered my autonomy, and the close-up support was not needed. And then it was a battle to shed-off the constant vigilance, and reclaim my own vitality. But it was time to move on - and seeking help became an act of volition, not an act of submission.

There is a fine line between a desire to conserve your autonomy and just sheer wanton stubbornness. I like to think the former is positive in a therapeutic sense, and the latter is prejudicial. And, necessarily, that my posture has nothing to do with stubbornness. My posture is the result of a rational analysis of my needs and possibilities  (with which others may disagree) where the option to seek help if needed has its place. The stubborn cannot even contemplate such an option. So, I am not stubborn - merely proud, intent on demonstrating something to myself and comfortable about it. I do not need a keeper. I do not like fuss - I do not want fussers cluttering up my space.
I am describing an attitude - my attitude. I do not affirm it is the only attitude a tongueless wonder ought to take, nor that it is laudible. It is one of several possible attitudes. Each person will ease into an assistance mode that is in accordance with their needs and sense of self-realisation. Some people may need and seek and accept much more intimate physical and morale help and support. And that is just as right as any other attitude. It is the difference between the deep-rooted protestant creed (some say ethic) of self-help and the age-old catholic creed (some say virtue) of mutual dependence, speaking as a non-aligned christian (with a small 'c').


After that, today's tangential post should be as light as a mayfly's dick...