I Feel Terrible But I Won’t Admit It, Will I?

Disclaimer...I do not use the techniques here described.  For the essays sake only I write as if I have. I have only imagined how it might be by using my observations and imagination.   My observations are based on having had cancer four times, starting ten years ago. I’ve had bits taken out, bits put in and chemo-,  radio-, and kitchen sink-o-therapy. In the Destruction Derby of life I am still creeping round, crumpled and steaming, but still going.  Now I hand over to my fictional alter ego.

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Because I have been a long time a’ suffrin’, I have learn how to complain heartily about my condition, and to wring sympathy from all and sundry, whilst appearing to be stoical and uncomplaining in the extreme.

I take no pride in the accomplishment. I try not to practise it, but it creeps up on me sometimes and I find myself laying it on thick. Subtly, but thick.

This is how it’s done.

You ask, innocently, how am I?

I reply,  ‘Not too bad, now.’

Note that 'NOW'.  That's what this essay is all about. In this case, by simply adding the one word it means that you have been gritting the teeth against agonising pain for days and now you can just bear to speak.

The 'Not too bad now.' reply also invites a further enquiry, which is what you want of course.

'Oh Dear. Have you been poorly?' They ask.

Now you can hit them with another ploy or two.

‘Well they did tell me it would get a bit worse before it improved, so I’m looking forward to the weekend should be heaps better then.’   

This means that now, as you speak, the red curtain of agony is before your eyes.

‘I hope it does get better.’ They say.  Sympathy is a comin’ in.

You then use the absolute faith and incurable optimism ploys. Both together in this case.

‘Oh I’m sure it will. I’m really looking forward to it. I’ll soon be dancing about like a two year old.’

For good measure I have added a third ploy, the ridiculous aspiration, to the reply. I can assure you it takes a real expert to amalgamate three ploys in one reply. I don’t know how I do it, feeling like I do.

There are many other stratagems for eliciting sympathy which, from my experience I could describe, but I can’t type for too long, so my the last is:- Pursuance of Interests in Difficult Circumstances.  Skillfully used this can lead to a satisfactory topping up of the radiator in my Destruction Derby with plenty of sympathetic water, metaphorically speaking.

They ask what you have been doing?

You reply thus. ‘Ah, fortunately I can still do lots of things.  I’ve been getting on with the radio controlled Beechcraft Bonanza I’d never finished.’ 

They are pleased, and impressed, but heaven forbid, you don’t want them to think you really are not too bad, so you continue.

‘I just take it a bit at a time, don’t want to ruin it by doing it when I don’t feel like it. I did the wings at the weekend. (Good, they say.) But then I’ll go weeks and I can’t pick up the glue.’ (Oh Dear, they say, I’m very sorry that...) this is sympathy and you must sometimes, not always, stop them doing it. Not that you don’t like it, it was your whole objective, but you may get more.  Your indomitable spirit will tug their heartstrings and with a catch in your voice you continue. ‘I’ll be out there flying it one day you’ll see.’  You finish them off with the ridiculous aspiration ploy.  Under these circumstances it indicates braveness, not silliness.

Sorry about this.  I’m fine really, better stop now though I’ve got the gutters to clear out.  Ha Ha Ha.