Isolation

No, not the blood and body fluid kind you used to see in the hospital. [Sidebar: Back in “the day” at my first job, there were different types of isolation that we had to deal with when going up to the floors and doing phlebotomy. Heck if I can remember them all now. I recall a blood and body fluids precaution for when a patient had hepatitis or AIDS; there was a strict isolation for a patient with Creutzfeld-Jakob; I honestly can’t remember any of the others. That’s because a few years after I started working, we went to universal precautions, in which every patient and every specimen was treated as potentially infectious of any ol’ thing. So you had to wear gloves with everyone. When I started, you only had to wear gloves for phlebotomy if the patient was in isolation. I find that so hard to believe now. End sidebar.]

What was I saying? Oh yes. Isolation. When I find myself in times of trouble, isolation comes to me. I can function well on the surface, be around people, and do what needs to get done, but I get very withdrawn. I try not to be mean, but I can be at times, and I regret that. However, after 48 years, I don’t see that changing anytime soon. I’ve come to realize that it’s my coping mechanism. I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, but if anyone were to tell me that I should open up more and be more vocal about my feelings, I’d probably tell them to mind their own damn business and get out of mine. I’ll deal with things in my own time and my own way; it’s different for everyone, as I wrote about recently. I really don’t see anything wrong with that, as long as it’s not permanent. My self-imposed isolation is never permanent.

I’m very much an introvert, and can live quite happily in my own head. I realized some time ago that it’s not entirely healthy to do that, and I’ve learned to adjust. But in times of duress, I tend to return to shut-down mode in order to get my brain around something and let myself heal. I’m very much the same way when I’m physically ill; I appreciate well-wishes and concern, but I just want to be left alone and not fussed over. If I have to barf, I’ll hold my own hair back, thank you very much.

I’m at a bit of a low ebb right now due to the illness of a family member. I think I’m kind of having flashbacks after visiting them in the hospital today (thinking about my Dad). I’ll rebound pretty quickly, because I know what is going on in my head and why. In the meantime, I’m just riding the storm out. My family is a pretty stoic bunch. We’re effusive when it comes to laughter, but when it comes to strong negative emotions, we tend to keep a lot of that in until we can deal with it on our own terms and in privacy. Is it the right thing to do? I don’t know. But like Tommy Roe says, I jam up and jelly tight, baby.