Existential Tremors
Life Gives Me The Shakes
Hello Friends,
Several newsletters ago I wrote about a side effect I was experiencing from medication I had been testing. The pharmaceutical in that article, the second one I tried for a condition, gave me ocular migraines, causing me to see neon shapes in my vision.
It was both kind of cool and kind of terrifying.
I stopped the meds for fear of the side effects evolving into more disruptive symptoms (as I increased the dose), such as temporary blindness while driving.
I had been taking the meds in an effort to control a disorder I have called Essential Tremor.
Basically, my hands shake.
This causes me to spill coffee on the table as I sit and drink or on my floor as I carry a mug between my desk and the coffeemaker.
I order martinis in a rocks glass so a third of the drink doesn’t wind up on the bar or splashed on my shirt (I know, poor me).
I am constantly over-filling containers because when I try to add just a little more, a giant clump comes blasting out.
My tremors vary in strength and occasion, but when they really act up, my hands will bounce up and down on my laptop keyboard, making typing difficult.
I used to type 100 words a minute. And now, when it flares up as it’s doing as I try to write this, I can barely make 15 words a minute. Yes, it took me 2 minutes to type that last sentence when I used to crank out whole paragraphs in the same amount of time.
Really messes with my flow.
I love coffee and fear spilling it every time I take a sip. I love writing, and I have to battle the keyboard every day to do it. This is how I go through life (hyperbolic, I know, but stick with me. This article might get less solipsistic).
I don’t currently take medication for my tremor.
I have tried several drugs, and so far have had little luck tolerating the side effects.
The ocular migraines were nothing compared to the suicidal desires I felt with the previous medication.
As is usually the case with mysterious medical conditions (no one seems to know why it happens, just that it’s more-than-likely genetic), to find relief, patients are asked to play pharmaceutical roulette: try a drug that is intended for another ailment but might work with acceptable side-effects.
So, I have to spin the wheel and go through a few weeks of taking something to see if my condition improves (which is hard to establish since my symptoms aren’t consistent) and if I can tolerate the medicine’s side effects.
It’s been a “no” to all the meds I’ve tried. So far, the side effects of the medication, while probably slightly reducing my tremors, are more of a nuisance than the daily expressions of my malady.
And when I discuss this with my doctor, it brings to light an existential question: At what point will my symptoms so disrupt the quality of my life that I will tolerate my body’s reaction to a medication?
Existentialism is a family of philosophical views and inquiry that explore the human individual’s struggle to lead an authentic life despite the apparent absurdity or incomprehensibility of existence.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Existentialism
This is a real query for me. And also, for many people in a similar (or worse) situation. Especially as interactions can snowball when a second (or third or fourth) medication is taken to reduce the initial drug’s side effects. (And trust me, compared to what some people deal with, I know I’m thankful that my thing is just a little shaking.)
While an actual, physical concern, this daily need to negotiate the balancing of two evils stands as a metaphor for our times, I think.
For example, is watching the news so detrimental to my quality of life that I’d rather not watch it and be uninformed (assuming the information I have access to is not disinformation)?
Or, is a stressful job worse for my health than being unemployed and panicked about paying my bills? Or constantly having a debate rage in my head about what to eat because the food might prolong or shorten my life?
And because I choose not to have suicidal thoughts or see creepy random colorful shapes dance across my vision, I deal with shaky hands in public. Sometimes they oscillate so much, I drop a forkful of food onto my lap or shirt (seriously, every item of clothing I own has food stains).
Recently, on a business trip, a co-worker called it out to show concern in case my shaky hands indicated a terminal, undiagnosed disease that I had been ignoring. (Good on him, because, apparently this happened to another co-worker several years ago and no one asked.)
When I talk to people, I present as nervous, even though I probably am not. When I reach out to show someone something, my hand trembles, sometimes to the point of needing them to steady the object I’m trying to share.
At what point does the sum of these occurrences so negatively impact the quality of my life that I will change my mind and tolerate the side effects?
I didn’t wake up one day with a tremor. It has been with me as long as I can remember (even as a child) and has gradually gotten worse. I imagine there may be a time in the future when my bouncing hands become intolerable, and I will try more medications and endure more side effects.
It all comes down to how does one want to live? At what point does anything become so disruptive that the only solution is not a fix, but just a less disruptive option?
We often ask ourselves this question. And metaphorically, it can be hard to look past the trembling hand and the sloshing coffee mug (or the side effects) and actually see the beauty in the world beyond those things.
Do we want to exist in a world of hard choices or instead, strive to find unrecognized potential?
The Existentialists may have had one thing right—life can be absurd. Perhaps it’s about balancing this absurdity (a superb name for a Substack!).
I suppose it’s a matter of focus and preference.
And weighing it all against our blessings. There is a lot to like in this world, if you can meet it where you are—blissfully uninformed, coffee stains, and martinis in rocks glasses and all.
Happy reading, happy writing, and happy trembling,
David