Mind over Natter

For as long as I can remember, words and languages have fascinated me. Over the years, I have studied or researched Akkadian, Aramaic, German, Greek, Hebrew, Spanish, and of course, English (including regional dialects and accents).

Boy, am I a goober -- a goober who loves words. Given that love, I can't help but be aware of the sheer power of words. "I love you" and "I hate you," for example, are sentences that are laden, heavy with meaning. So, too, is "I have RA."

Of course, the primary purpose of words and language is to convey information -- information about what we're thinking, feeling, seeing, believing.

There's no doubt that words are important. But are they the end-all, be-all?

Recently, on some RA forums, some people have argued just that with regard to RA and its management. For example, one individual recently suggested that doctors and pharmaceutical companies overuse negative words or phrases (such as "damage," "fatigue," and "disability") when they should be using more positive language such as "growth," "restored energy," "thrive," and "full life-style."

Well, I get that.

Except that when it comes to my health, ultimately, I'm a pragmatist. I'm a "just the facts, ma'am" kind of person. For example, I don't want, say, the potential side effect of projectile vomiting to be described as "the horizontal regurgitation of previously ingested liquids and foodstuffs." (Hmmm. I was trying to put a positive spin on projectile vomiting, but I'm just not sure I can do it.) I adopted the same approach with my nieces and nephew when it came to identifying their body parts: "That's your penis." "That's your vagina." Not "that's your wee-wee" or "that's your coochie."   

Personally speaking, for me, flowery or positively-spun words don't change my disease. When it comes to RA and my health, I want someone to give me the barebones facts -- facts which I can subsequently interpret in my own way, based on my knowledge, my feelings, and my experience.

Because ultimately, it's not words that give me hope. It's people that give me hope -- people like you and me. People who do all that they can do to fight against this shitty disease, its effects, its treatments' side effects, and the changes they cause in our lives. People with hair loss and braces and wheelchairs and extra lumps and canes and bone loss and bandaids from blood draws.

Yes, it's people who give me hope.

Word.

Comments

[RA Guy]

"the horizontal regurgitation of previously ingested liquids and foodstuffs." Loved it.

I agree, although I must admit that I do have one personal language hang up: I much prefer "person living with RA" over "RA sufferer". This is rough enough for me without calling out the suffering side.

[Angie (RA & Me)]

WOOT! You go girl! Love the projectile definition. I'm a "give-it-to-me-straight" girl too. Don't waste my time with stupid shit. Just tell me like it is. Doctors should use words like damage, fatigue, and disability. That is our reality. It's not all rainbows and butterflies. At least not until the cure comes.

[Kelly]

My word for us is "RA-er" ; I think it is a contraction of RA Warrior. Beats "victim", right? So, fight on!
And about the words: I taught my kids the real words like you did to your relatives. However, I did say 'we will usually only discuss this around family, okay?' Hahaha. Otherwise, imagine the feedback... ;P