The Beauty of Mathematics

I have been working on numbers for a few days now, but there is no need to explain the reason. It is just the way it is. Working on them reminds me of how I try to use them to find answers, to try to find the solution, a number or a set of numbers, an equation, but always some form of an answer. But there seems to be no answer for why I have the health conditions, interstitial cystitis or inappropriate sinus tachycardia. Maybe it’s because I am asking the wrong question or formulating the question in the wrong way. That I can even luxuriate, ponder this, is it not a form of privilege, to live it and reflect on it at the same time, some wicked form of bliss or suffering? The pertinent question remains. What if it is the sum of all things that lead me to this point – an aggregate, a summation – but is that still imprecise.

Am I just a body wharehousing experiences – that is what is contained – the area under a structure, a curve, an arc, leading me full circle. Am I derivative – some crucial aspect left apart – maybe that of well-being – why must it be this way – derived from others – concern for those derived from me. Or is it a game of probabilities – you run the stats and find the likelihood of having just one invisible disease and you compound that with actually having two or more. Does it make you any more exceptional or just more tending to an invisible existance, to zero. The numbers I am working on are more straightforward in what is conveyed – a situation, a pattern arises, and it’s so clear and formulaic – why didn’t I see it before now. Numbers always descriptive – heart rate, voiding schedule, pain, an emotional dependence. Numbers tell the story, mathematics the narrator. Sometimes I don’t wish to read or listen.

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Author: Melanie Dubs
Hi, I have had IC for almost 30 years (took 7 years before that was diagnosed), and a heart condition, inappropriate sinus tachycardia undiagnosed for almost 40 years. Both conditions have seriously affected my quality of life. I consider myself an warrior, maybe an intermittent one, because sometimes I’m in pain and suffering and sometimes the condition relents. During those times, I am relieved but feel guilty that I am not doing more for my fellow IC warriors, that I should be furthering our cause in some way. Most days I push myself to try to conform, wear a mask of normality. I push through the pain, urgency, heart palpitations – because I know there may be one day when I can’t. I feel like I need to do this to justify being a warrior. But, we all need to realize it’s our simple existence, our unique light that shines that we share with others, that is the only justification required. My deepest respect and love to you all!
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