“How are you doing?”

That’s a heartfelt question I’ve heard quite a bit in the last few days.

Unless Michigan (or any other team) has beaten Michigan State, New Zealand has ceased to exist, or I haven’t hugged a puppy in months, chances are I’ll answer along the lines of

• “Good”
• “Pretty good”
• “Fine”
• “Okay”

 

Here’s the truth about me. Since I don’t like imposing on people, being dependent, or letting people worry about me, I don’t necessarily answer that question truthfully. (Unless you’re Teri and I know that you’ll greet news like car rollovers, sickness, and painful burns with automatic ice cream and hanging out.) Really if you get an answer of “Okay,” something is probably going on.

The last few days have slowly been growing to the point of making today one of those rare days when I just wanted to curl up in pajamas, watch movies, and eat ice cream. We started fishing on Tuesday, and wouldn’t you know that some odd pain would show up in my body the next day. That pain has been growing worse and worse to the point that it woke me up overnight. Today my awkwardly painful area ruled my thoughts as I worked my 16 hour shift.

So far I’ve spent my shifts standing over a conveyor belt that carries pollock guts past me. As I see roe, I pull them out and toss them on a different belt. Unfortunately these belts are at an imperfect height, leading to a sore back and the need to reposition to stretch out while working. Unfortunately my other pain particularly disliked movement today, meaning my walk is all funky and I had tears from pain – not from work.

Everyone says once you make it through the first trip [fill the boat with fish and then unload at Dutch Harbor], you can last the season. Since I’m one of the few “greenhorns,” people are just being supportive and offering advice on our 7 days a week of 16 hours on/8 off schedule and extremely monotonous work.

I’m sure I’ve been making faces while working, because fellow workers have been asking me how I’m doing. My response has been “Okay,” but I should be responding with “I’m miserable.” I just can’t bring myself to admit that to other people and hear them ask what’s wrong. Instead earlier I avoided the break room and stood in the hall as I hated my life during our 10 minute break. Brilliant, eh?

Why I generally don’t want people to know when I’m suffering is beyond me. Perhaps I’m too stubborn to admit struggle. Maybe it’s pride that doesn’t want me to show weakness. I wonder if it’s me distancing myself from people since I don’t belong anywhere. More than likely it’s a combination of those and other emotions I can’t come up with now. Whatever the issue, it looks like a fault in my personality.

I bet lots of people answer generally as I do, but I don’t know if most people take it as far as me. Fortunately coming up with this blog post occupied my thoughts to get me through the last 4 hours of my shift. So now I’m just “Pretty miserable.”

Update: This was about yesterday. Today I had music to listen to for the first time, which made life SO much better. Also perhaps the painkiller is helping more because the pain wasn’t as bad. But, I’m now only “Uncomfortable,” which still isn’t great.