Complaining
Title
Complaining
Creator
Jacob Schlitt
Description
"As one gets older, life becomes harder, especially if you have had cancer."
Date
2013
Format
application/pdf
Type
text
Language
en
Identifier
COMPLAINTS
Text
COMPLAINING
As one gets older, life becomes harder, especially if you have had cancer. Then, you live in fear, waiting for something bad to happen, and sure enough, bad things happen: Hearing loss, trouble walking, trouble breathing, stomach upset, sleep apnea, headaches and other aches and pains, lack of energy, dropping things. And there doesn’t seem to be anything you can do about it. You spend your days seeing Physicians: Oncologists, Physiatrists, Audiologists, Neurologists, Therapists, Psychiatrists, Physiologists, Dentists, and your Internist or Primary Care Physician.
And as one gets older, more and more things go wrong. And frequently, when things go wrong, it is hard to remain silent. So you complain. Much of what goes wrong, is beyond your control, but it helps if you can blame someone, and sometimes the easiest person to blame is your spouse.
The other day, Fran threw up. This has happened in the past. Why did it happen this time? Fran complained that it was my fault. She had put the milk, that was turning sour, into her coffee, and I should have thrown out the milk, which caused her to vomit.
A major source of complaint deals with hearing. Both of us have hearing loss. However, Fran complains that when I speak to her, I do not face her, making it harder for her to hear me. Nor do I face her when she is speaking to me, making it harder for me to hear her. Fran also complains when I am not wearing my hearing aids. Fran complains if I ask her if she is wearing her hearing aids. Fran complains about the fact that she has to replace hearing aid batteries frequently, and that she occasionally forgets where she put her hearing aids. Thankfully, neither are my fault.
Fran washed a blouse and hung it on the bathroom door with a towel beneath it. When I closed the door, Fran complained, saying she told me not to close the door. Fran complains about chipped dishes, the way I wash and put away the pots, about my throwing out plastic containers, about crumbs on the table, dirt on the floor, dirt in the sink, lights that are burned out, newspapers that are not where she would like them, my food shopping, my driving, especially my impatience at traffic lights, my inability to find things in the refrigerator, etc.
During the summer, Fran turns the thermostat in our apartment down to 68, making it too cool for me. When I turn it up to 70 or 72, Fran complains that it is too warm. In the car, the same thing: Fran wants it colder.
Fran complains that she wants to buy new wallpaper for the entryway, but I have not given her my input. Much of what Fran complains about has a germ of truth to it. She stops up the toilet and complains that it is the toilet’s fault. Driving along Route 9, Fran complains about the delays, the traffic, the condition of the road. If I get angry and use profanity when someone cuts me off, Fran complains about my getting angry and using profanity.
With someone who is not well, complaints are not a two-way street. I try not to articulate my complaints about all the things she does that upset me, because, as I previously observed, Fran “would, if she could, but she can’t.” And when Fran found that piece, she hit the ceiling. In fact, she once told me regarding her “shortcomings,” I can think it, but she does not want me to say it or write it.
I can not complain about how long it takes Fran to do anything. It is clearly a result of her illness. I can not complain about the disorder that she has created in our home. It also stems from her illness. Nor can I complain about her forgetfulness, the hours she keeps, etc.
As one gets older, life becomes harder, especially if you have had cancer. Then, you live in fear, waiting for something bad to happen, and sure enough, bad things happen: Hearing loss, trouble walking, trouble breathing, stomach upset, sleep apnea, headaches and other aches and pains, lack of energy, dropping things. And there doesn’t seem to be anything you can do about it. You spend your days seeing Physicians: Oncologists, Physiatrists, Audiologists, Neurologists, Therapists, Psychiatrists, Physiologists, Dentists, and your Internist or Primary Care Physician.
And as one gets older, more and more things go wrong. And frequently, when things go wrong, it is hard to remain silent. So you complain. Much of what goes wrong, is beyond your control, but it helps if you can blame someone, and sometimes the easiest person to blame is your spouse.
The other day, Fran threw up. This has happened in the past. Why did it happen this time? Fran complained that it was my fault. She had put the milk, that was turning sour, into her coffee, and I should have thrown out the milk, which caused her to vomit.
A major source of complaint deals with hearing. Both of us have hearing loss. However, Fran complains that when I speak to her, I do not face her, making it harder for her to hear me. Nor do I face her when she is speaking to me, making it harder for me to hear her. Fran also complains when I am not wearing my hearing aids. Fran complains if I ask her if she is wearing her hearing aids. Fran complains about the fact that she has to replace hearing aid batteries frequently, and that she occasionally forgets where she put her hearing aids. Thankfully, neither are my fault.
Fran washed a blouse and hung it on the bathroom door with a towel beneath it. When I closed the door, Fran complained, saying she told me not to close the door. Fran complains about chipped dishes, the way I wash and put away the pots, about my throwing out plastic containers, about crumbs on the table, dirt on the floor, dirt in the sink, lights that are burned out, newspapers that are not where she would like them, my food shopping, my driving, especially my impatience at traffic lights, my inability to find things in the refrigerator, etc.
During the summer, Fran turns the thermostat in our apartment down to 68, making it too cool for me. When I turn it up to 70 or 72, Fran complains that it is too warm. In the car, the same thing: Fran wants it colder.
Fran complains that she wants to buy new wallpaper for the entryway, but I have not given her my input. Much of what Fran complains about has a germ of truth to it. She stops up the toilet and complains that it is the toilet’s fault. Driving along Route 9, Fran complains about the delays, the traffic, the condition of the road. If I get angry and use profanity when someone cuts me off, Fran complains about my getting angry and using profanity.
With someone who is not well, complaints are not a two-way street. I try not to articulate my complaints about all the things she does that upset me, because, as I previously observed, Fran “would, if she could, but she can’t.” And when Fran found that piece, she hit the ceiling. In fact, she once told me regarding her “shortcomings,” I can think it, but she does not want me to say it or write it.
I can not complain about how long it takes Fran to do anything. It is clearly a result of her illness. I can not complain about the disorder that she has created in our home. It also stems from her illness. Nor can I complain about her forgetfulness, the hours she keeps, etc.
Original Format
application/msword
Collection
Citation
Jacob Schlitt, “Complaining,” Autobiographical stories & other writing by Jacob Schlitt, accessed April 28, 2024, https://tsirlson.omeka.net/items/show/200.