The Buzz I Won't Fix

Hospital Journal

What I do between visits to the hospital for chemotherapy is look at my ceiling and read Against Nature and The Complete Journals of Albert Camus. The one thing I don’t do is play vinyl records, mostly because my favorite albums are on the floor, and with my damaged legs (though getting better), I can’t reach them, nor can I sit down on a low chair. Once down, I’m really down. And it seems the speakers have a horrific buzz, and I can’t figure out how to fix it. Also, I don’t want to remove the ton of vinyl to reach a cord behind the amp. I’m sure it’s easily fixable, but I can’t deal with it for some reason

It’s not only due to physical reasons, but there are mental issues attached to this problem. I would rather live with the annoying buzz than get it fixed. The buzz confirms that the world is not perfect and that perfection is an illusion. I think that when I reach perfection, it only means there will be a following disappointment. To reach the ultimate means there is nothing higher, and in turn, it feels like a kind of death, or the end of a sentence. I would also be bothered if I had a friend over, we listened to the now-fixed hi-fi, and they commented that the sound wasn’t that good. That would upset me because it would confirm that perfection isn’t attainable. For my friend, this is an easy fix of some sort, but for me, it is like changing the universe, or confronting the impossibility of a well-lived life.

I was raised by a father who took chances in life, which at times left me feeling insecure, and I think my mom felt the same way. If money was running short, he would gamble on cards or pool at the local bar. He wasn’t afraid of change and trusted his skills at games, and I couldn’t understand how he could depend on those skills to bring money into the family for food. He lived day by day, and I wasn’t sure if there would be a tomorrow. That feeling stayed with me, and, in a way, the buzz of the speakers conveys at least a sense of consistency in one’s life.

Going through chemotherapy, and knowing the next session will be the last, opens up anything to happen in the future. It’s important to focus on the present and have small goals. For one, I have to keep up with my physical therapy to make my body stronger, because I literally can’t do certain things most people take for granted. I also have to keep my various writing projects at hand and remain healthy to finish them.