The Astronaut Suffers

• Lori Palminteri
• Uncategorized
• March 21, 2026

Few things fascinate me more than the cosmos. Space, in its infinite wonders, is only matched by mystery to humanity by the deep blue sea. Personally, I like the fact that there are still mysteries to us. As astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson says, “the universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.”

History, art and science museums are all fun outings to me. Adults who lose interest in learning are terrible bores. It’s imperative to remain curious.

In my teen years, despite being a giant Science Fiction nerd, I had been swayed that the Space Program was actually a pretty big waste of money, knowing there were so many people suffering in the world. But not too many years later, I’d deem humanity beyond saving and also that money isn’t necessarily to answer to saving humans, so I back peddled and now I think we should give the Space program all the money, because they are doing amazing things.

The spectrum of human intelligence is so vast, it’s somewhat hilarious to me and I consider it one of the universe’s greatest jokes. Based on my school grades and near perfect college GPA, I would rank above average intelligence. The vast majority of people are people dumb. But the drop off between a genius and myself is also a ridiculous gap.

The Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral is a must see for anyone who is enthusiastic about space and science. But if you aren’t at least part nerd, it probably isn’t for you. What NASA (and now also SpaceX) has managed to accomplish over the years is nothing short of astounding, and frankly quite miraculous. It’s humbling to zoom out into our vast universe and take a moment to understand that the Earth will some day become a dusty planet, with or without us, and our existence is a blink of an eye among trillions of galaxies, coming and going.

Despite my growing intrigue in the void above and relentless lust for sci-fi stories, I have no desire to go to space. Maybe I’d like to go into the stratosphere, look at Earth from above, and then fly back, but I’ve no interest in going to a colony on the moon or Mars. I’m in love with the oceans. I think I’ll remain on Earth.

This surprises people sometimes, considering I’m the type of person to decide the day of to drive four to five hours to Cherry Springs for meteor showers. But I think the people it surprises don’t understand what being in space does to your body. Yes, astronauts have exercising regimes, but your without gravity your muscles shrink, you lose bone density, your heart weakens (because it doesn’t have to pump as hard), your vision gets worse, and then there’s the mental health factors of isolation and sleep. Astronauts aren’t just highly intelligent space cowboys, they literally sacrifice their bodies. Usually, their bodies return to normal after a couple month returning to Earth. The longer you stay up there, the longer it takes to return to normal. You can watch on YouTube people relearning how to walk in rehab after spending a year in the Space Station. Their legs become less useful than a freshly born deer.

Writers like Andy Weir (“The Martian,” “Project Hail Mary”) or James Corey/Ty Frank (“The Expanse”) heavily incorporate actual science into their space epics, not sugar coating the toll space takes on your body (and mind!). You see, I would love to go travel the galaxy if the universe was like as you see it in Star Wars where every place seems to have the same oxygen levels and gravity. It’s easy to romanticize space travel when you ignore the science. Personally, I find the mental challenges of isolation and sleeping in pods without sunlight or walking around more daunting than the physical challenges. All the things keeping me from slipping into complete insanity don’t exist up there. We don’t belong up there, however, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t stop exploring. Astronauts know the stakes at being up there, more than an artist knows the stakes of their chosen path.

The astronaut will and must suffer. The writer suffers from relentless looping thoughts. The mother suffers from lack of sleep. The father suffers from working a job he hates to provide for his family. The thinking out of the box student suffers in a school trying to make them think and act like conforming ant. The teacher suffers from losing the learning battle to weirdly sexual dancing on TikTok. The cop suffers from the public pointing fingers at them, when they just wanted to help save the world. The white collar people suffer as ai interrupts job markets and jobs left pay little more than working at McDonald’s. The working people suffer. The unemployed suffer. The citizens suffer. The immigrants suffer.

Through one lens, the human existence is a harrowingly sad tale. And then through another— like the rarity of our planet and all the beauty is has, from the oceans to the mountains, to the art and culture that makes us smile and dance, to the science that has saved millions of people’s lives, and the stories of men and women who made history, we can be really awesome at times. There are trillions of galaxies and from the universe’s vantage point, we are some rare gem, floating among sparkling fire balls. This planet is a miracle in some sort of sense. Planets and stars have longer lives than people, but everything must end, and to that, I say, take a moment to stare at the moon and forget about it all for a little while, your suffering will be waiting for you when you come back.

The astronaut gets the view of the gods. The writer gets to create stories, characters, worlds. The mother and father get the snuggles of the deepest love and meaning for existence. The misfit student finds other misfits to have memorable adventures on bicycles around the neighborhood. The teacher steers the course of an otherwise lost student, even if they never know. The cop delivers justice. The white collar people learn that money isn’t everything and reinvent their lives.

The moon watches, pulling at oceans, waiting for you to look up and notice. If you’re focused on suffering, you’ll miss the light in the dark.