I’m probably not be the best person to ask about this, since my approach to writer’s block is about the same as my typical approach to physical pain, emotional distress and most other problems, and I’m not sure it’s always the most productive one: Power through.
With writing, and really any creative pursuit I’ve endeavored, it’s especially frustrating because I find it nearly impossible to know for sure which things will hit and which will miss. Presumably some of that’s on me, and obviously there’s a lot of randomness at play. But sometimes I’ll feel like I have almost nothing to say and struggle through a post, then people will seem to really enjoy it. And other times I’ll feel like everything’s really flowing and almost no one responds in any way. Totally emo. Are you there world? It’s me, Ted!
Anyway, that doesn’t matter. Point is, if you’re reading today and video stuff isn’t your thing, thanks for sticking out the last few days.
Man, I wish I were better qualified to talk about that. Truth is I don’t know exactly how rare a choice it is, nor all of what the rehab entailed, nor even that it was the best choice — who knows if Gee would be a better pitcher today if he went the surgical route? This Daily News article from last year suggests he still endures pain in the shoulder.
I can say with some confidence, though, that the human body is an amazing and mysterious thing. My wife and I took in Knuckleball! this weekend at the Tribeca Film Festival (which answers @dpecs‘ question), and the movie detailed R.A. Dickey’s lack of an ulnar collateral ligament and the way it cost him his first-round signing bonus out of college. Dickey explained how doctors said he shouldn’t be able to turn a doorknob without pain even though he had been throwing fastballs in the 90s.
I know it’s kind of an old story by now, but really… think about that! The guy threw fastballs in the 90s without one of the main things that’s supposed to be holding his elbow together. At 37, the guy still throws pitches in the mid-80s, and he still doesn’t have that thing. And for all we know there are five other Major Leaguers who don’t have UCLs either who just never posed for the wrong picture at the wrong time.
When I was diagnosed with M.S. in 2008, my doctor showed me MRI images that showed 10 small lesions on my brain, then said I had nothing to worry about because only about 50-percent of brain lesions affected people in any way. That freaked the hell out of me, because I’m good enough at math to know that 50 percent of 10 is five, and I didn’t want five lesions operating on my brain. So after a couple of weeks of fretting, I brought it up to the doctor. He explained that it ultimately didn’t matter at all — the lesions were there and likely would be forever, but even if some of them did have some small impact, the brain and body ultimately create new pathways and means of compensation, and neither I nor anyone else would ever be able to notice any difference.
You ever see those local news features about the people who lose their arm functions and learn how to do everything with their feet? We’re all kind of like that in various less-obvious ways. This sounds depressing but it’s actually the opposite: The longer you live the more crap you need to deal with, and you either figure out ways to deal with it or it deals with you.
I do hope that, yes. Yo whatup Paula Deen? How great is butter? You want to come make a sandwich with me? Ladies’ choice.