Why Me?

Why Me?

I’ve been doing some thinking over the last few days. To be honest it isn’t something I’ve really thought about to much before, I’ve usually pushed it to the back of my mind as really when thought about it’s not dissimilar to one of those deep theological or scientific questions I’d throw at adults. Me, aged 6, “Mammy, why is the sky blue?” She basically told me that due to the atmosphere being quite cold up there, oxygen is a liquid, which is blue. Another question, me aged 7, “Mr. Sullivan (my primary school teacher who invited us to ask him questions) what is infinity?” again, a good answer that took about 15 minutes of his time. Another question I asked him is “What is antimatter?” Another 30 minutes of his time taken up concluding with the fact that I’d probably been watching too much “Dr Who”. These were a mere bagatelle compared to the questions thrown at Mr. Perrott, my RE teacher at secondary school. My mother’s theology discussions ended with the fact that people who weren’t Catholic didn’t go to heaven. To a 6 year old me these didn’t seem fair as there were plenty of good people who weren’t Catholic who surely deserved to go to Heaven. Recently my mother seemed somewhat perturbed that during the period that she sent me to a Catholic school that we would have discussions of a theological nature with our RE teacher rather than just memories facts (???) and figures (????).

This train of thought arose from an incident on Good Friday; I was in Coventry city centre where there were some people from a church, definitely not Catholic, probably Pentecostal singing and a preacher (I was just passing by). The preacher proclaimed that the woman standing next to him had been cured of cancer, not by chemotherapy or radiotherapy but by her faith in Jesus. This as I was walking past got the attention of the ticcy beast within and out it popped “Jesus gave me Tourette’s!” oopppsss. I scuttle away. This did get me thinking about “WHY ME? WHY DO I HAVE TOURETTE’S?” So here goes, here are the reasons why I have TS.

1.The obvious. Some member of my family, I don’t know who, nobody in my family, and that extends to my extended family also have TS, OCD or anything that could be described as tic like. Or, as my mother suffered from rather violent morning sickness throughout her pregnancy which was then finished off with a rather long and difficult labour (but, I was worth it) something happened to my brain along the way making me now the woman you see before you today.

2.Because I’m strong. (???!!!) I do more or less carry the stress of being a ticcer on my own shoulders. It is merely seen by my family as a “quirk” and I just carry on regardless.

3.I’m the entertainment. Sad, but in some instances true. Here’s an instance. There’s a knock on the door, I answer it. One of my partner’s friends is at the door with his friend.

“Alright, is Pete in? (Turns to his friend watch out for her, she’s got Tourette’s haha” I invite them in and call my partner. Friend 1 introduces his friend to me, he introduces me as “Pete’s Mrs.” I reply to him “can’t you remember my name? How many times have you been here” “Oh, it begins with a K doesn’t it?” “no, C” Pete arrives.” Come on now C…C…CCaaa” “Cath” ..”ERINE!” Nice isn’t it when somebody remembers a neurological condition you have but not your name. HUMPH! He carries on joking about my coprolalia; both the jokes and the coprolalia are wearing so I go to bed. No support from my man. Thanks. (This is typical, hence me being self sufficient in the emotional support department).

I also supply entertainment to strangers whilst I’m out and about. When I’m in the mood I’m quite happy for people to laugh WITH me and emphahise, and that’s usually to a tic that’s placed it’s self at an appropriate point, or basically is generally funny for a particular reason, but random swearing with accompanied by an upper body jerk is just not really funny and downright annoying and pardon the bad language, has the ability to f**k things up good and proper. Insulting a nice guy you’re talking to just doesn’t make his day.

4. There must be some sins somewhere along the way I’ve not confessed to. (STOP SNIGGERING!) Was it the improper thoughts I had regarding a seminarian who visited our school? Was it eating my dad’s chocolate?.....

As I’m quite an anylitcal person who likes things to be logical I think I might go for option 1. But still there is an element of fate there, which brings up the whole “why me?” question again.

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