Dad and I have said many goodbyes, having lived in separate states for 31 years. We liked to keep them short. It hurt less that way. Tonight I am sitting on the sofa at my father's home, with my laptop on a TV tray, keeping vigil. Across from me is the most brilliant, complex, and fortunate man I've ever met. My father. Five minutes ago he did not know where he was or why friends weren't coming to get him. Now he is asleep sitting in his chair. My daughters and I had planned an end of school visit. The day we were to arrive Dad went into the hospital suffering from vivid hallucinations.
He needed to be on a geriatric/psychiatric unit for observation. Professionally, I knew that was the absolute best option. The doctor agreed. All but one family member agreed. My father refused. He is a neuropsychologist who, at 82, remembers some very horrible things about 1960's psych wards. He obtained his postdoctorate after surviving a major traumatic brain injury from a motor vehicle accident. The recovery was horrendous. He hates hospitals. He was furious with me for suggesting he go.
The doctor discharged him with instructions that my father not be alone until his follow up appointment. My father is very private and introverted, yet charming and social. His idea of "a visit" is that my girls and I come and go so he gets his alone time. In fact, Dad and I have pretty much survived this way for years. We give each other a lot of space and have each other's back when the chips are down.
Dad is struggling to accept the gravity of this situation. Intellectually he knows far more than I do about what is happening to him and what to expect. It's his greatest fear. Several years ago he supported his mother through dementia, so he's experienced my side of it too. For several days he was in denial, short tempered about being watched. This morning at his follow up visit the doctor reiterated that my father needs supervision, especially at night when symptoms worsen. He also told him not to drive. And that he wants Dad to see a neurologist and psychiatrist.
On the way home Dad became agitated about being "babysat". Finally I just looked at him and said, "Dad, there's nothing good about this. It sucks. It sucks that you are hallucinating. It sucks that your balance is off. It sucks that you are on so many meds. We just have to get through it." His response was to fall asleep. Or maybe he was just thinking. Either way, he became quiet and calmer. Later he stated this had "been a long time coming".
We--Dad, me, my sister, his grand kids, his friends--will whether this long goodbye.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Meaning Amongst Ashes
Somewhere along the way I became fond of the idea that life eventually slides into place. That at various points it might jolt us, and we regroup, but that there are periods of peaceful existence. Times where the mechanics of life are clicking along so smoothly that higher thought is easily accessible and flourishes.
Idealism of the immature mind. Fairytales. Yet not nearly as magical as reality.
The actuality is that life, yours and mine, is more akin to the tectonic plates. Always moving. Changing. Sometimes nearly unnoticeable, sometimes dramatic. We slide against one another, we grate, we clash, we separate, we join. We create beauty, drama, disaster, and vistas. The mirage of peaceful existence is superficial. Below the surface, in any of us, at any time, there exists movement that moment to moment changes the landscape of our lives and those around us.
Genius takes root not in the placidity of smooth soil, but as a result of chaos. The ultimate resiliency. We flourish, we extend ourselves, we reach. Hardship provides ideal conditions for ingenuity. That is the difference between the green and well meaning student with an IQ of 135 and the one who has life experience. Life is our best classroom. It will hone you. The truly resilient find meaning amongst ashes.
I'd like to stop and collect my thoughts; Present them in a tidy package. Yet there is no "pause" button. At best there is the lull between crests. The trick is to capture the calm and use it wisely. Amazing things happen when this is mastered. One of my favorite examples of this is the pioneer of existentialism, Viktor Frankl.
If you are waiting for life to slow down, realize it may not. Functioning through life means functioning through change. Meaning, motivation, inspiration, opportunity, and courage so often flourish in the soil of disaster. The question is, will we look?
Idealism of the immature mind. Fairytales. Yet not nearly as magical as reality.
The actuality is that life, yours and mine, is more akin to the tectonic plates. Always moving. Changing. Sometimes nearly unnoticeable, sometimes dramatic. We slide against one another, we grate, we clash, we separate, we join. We create beauty, drama, disaster, and vistas. The mirage of peaceful existence is superficial. Below the surface, in any of us, at any time, there exists movement that moment to moment changes the landscape of our lives and those around us.
Genius takes root not in the placidity of smooth soil, but as a result of chaos. The ultimate resiliency. We flourish, we extend ourselves, we reach. Hardship provides ideal conditions for ingenuity. That is the difference between the green and well meaning student with an IQ of 135 and the one who has life experience. Life is our best classroom. It will hone you. The truly resilient find meaning amongst ashes.
I'd like to stop and collect my thoughts; Present them in a tidy package. Yet there is no "pause" button. At best there is the lull between crests. The trick is to capture the calm and use it wisely. Amazing things happen when this is mastered. One of my favorite examples of this is the pioneer of existentialism, Viktor Frankl.
If you are waiting for life to slow down, realize it may not. Functioning through life means functioning through change. Meaning, motivation, inspiration, opportunity, and courage so often flourish in the soil of disaster. The question is, will we look?
Monday, April 25, 2011
Relapse...not just for clients
Amazing how one little thing has such extensive consequences. I have Hashimoto's Thyroiditis. It's a genetic autoimmune condition. In layman's terms, a type of hypothyroidism. It was diagnosed around age 24 when my cholesterol levels came back deathly high after donating blood to the Red Cross.
Symptoms include: fatigue, depression, anxiety, cold intolerance, sleepiness, poor concentration, achiness, constipation, muscle cramps, brittleness/thinning of hair and nails, dry skin, swelling of the legs, moderate weight gain, and high cholesterol.
Recently I changed jobs and have had a delay in insurance coverage. I had an appointment to get my thyroid (TSH) blood test before the insurance ran out...was busy, chose not too, slid into denial until the symptoms began kicking my butt. Haven't taken medicine for over a month now and am fully symptomatic. Yet, I knew better. That, my friends, is called a "relapse"*.
Ironic, the therapist having a relapse. But believe me, we do. We're just as squirrely as the general population (perhaps moreso). It's just that we tend to hide it better, to try to fix it ourselves, and smack ourselves harder because we "should" have known better. On the bright side: it builds empathy. I know the self talk/thinking that goes along with denial. I get the self annoyance. I also get trying to function day to day when you feel like crap...yet I have NO room to complain because a $15 non addictive prescription solves my ills. And believe me, I suggest anyone having the symptoms I listed to have the test. Amazing how many "mental health" symptoms are actually physical.
I am cold, exhausted, moody, frustrated with myself, and my entire body hurts. Oddly, blissfully, I have little spurts of energy off and on. Pretty sure my boyfriend thinks I'm the exorcist. My friends are wondering where I am. Mom says I look tired. Tonight I told my kids they're just going to have have mercy...and they were happy because that meant fast food. Now that I'm properly motivated, I've spent a week trying to get the doctor to write the damn lab order. A lesson in patience.
Overall though, it's a lesson in humility.
*relapse - to fall back into a former mood, state, or way of life, especially a bad or undesirable one, after coming out of it for a while
Symptoms include: fatigue, depression, anxiety, cold intolerance, sleepiness, poor concentration, achiness, constipation, muscle cramps, brittleness/thinning of hair and nails, dry skin, swelling of the legs, moderate weight gain, and high cholesterol.
Recently I changed jobs and have had a delay in insurance coverage. I had an appointment to get my thyroid (TSH) blood test before the insurance ran out...was busy, chose not too, slid into denial until the symptoms began kicking my butt. Haven't taken medicine for over a month now and am fully symptomatic. Yet, I knew better. That, my friends, is called a "relapse"*.
Ironic, the therapist having a relapse. But believe me, we do. We're just as squirrely as the general population (perhaps moreso). It's just that we tend to hide it better, to try to fix it ourselves, and smack ourselves harder because we "should" have known better. On the bright side: it builds empathy. I know the self talk/thinking that goes along with denial. I get the self annoyance. I also get trying to function day to day when you feel like crap...yet I have NO room to complain because a $15 non addictive prescription solves my ills. And believe me, I suggest anyone having the symptoms I listed to have the test. Amazing how many "mental health" symptoms are actually physical.
I am cold, exhausted, moody, frustrated with myself, and my entire body hurts. Oddly, blissfully, I have little spurts of energy off and on. Pretty sure my boyfriend thinks I'm the exorcist. My friends are wondering where I am. Mom says I look tired. Tonight I told my kids they're just going to have have mercy...and they were happy because that meant fast food. Now that I'm properly motivated, I've spent a week trying to get the doctor to write the damn lab order. A lesson in patience.
Overall though, it's a lesson in humility.
*relapse - to fall back into a former mood, state, or way of life, especially a bad or undesirable one, after coming out of it for a while
Thursday, April 21, 2011
It's That Easy
About 20 years ago I asked my stepdad how I would know a relationship was meant to be. He replied, "Because it will be easy."
He's a very phlegmatic guy, so keeping that in mind let's define "easy". He explained that it would not just be the "easy" of a personality click, but that there would be a simplicity to it, a lack of strife. It would recharge you, encourage you, empower you. Inspire reciprocation. An "easy" relationship would be a soft place to fall, a breath of fresh air, what you would want to seek out at the end of a day. And fun.
I thought he was nuts. What a fairytale! Nothing was that simple! So, I held onto my belief that relationships were challenging. That belief led me right into that experience.
It wasn't until about 6 years ago that I realized the really great relationships and most meaningful choices in my life had a common purity much like my stepdad described: they were clear, felt "right", nourished my soul, inspired me to give back. Some outstanding examples: meeting/getting to know my stepdad and stepsiblings, my best friend in high school, the choice to perservere getting a Masters Degree, to have and love my kids, and meeting/getting to know my best friend in the universe Miss Daisy.
So what did that say about romantic relationships? That was still elusive to me until about 2 weeks ago as Neat Guy and I sat out on his deck one evening laughing and talking. We carry on like we've known eachother for years. It just flows, it's so comfortable, so fun, so healthy. Out of the blue I realized:
Daddy was right.
People try to bottle what he described. Psychology buffs try to explain it, replicate it.What it boils down to is that many truly solid relationships and choices are beneficent, harmonious, and reciprocal on what I can only think to term as the "soul" level. They recharge, encourage, and empower. Life will still swarm around you...yet with these people, in these decisions there is clarity and security...Your soul can rest. Which is the kind of "easy" he meant.
It's that easy.
He's a very phlegmatic guy, so keeping that in mind let's define "easy". He explained that it would not just be the "easy" of a personality click, but that there would be a simplicity to it, a lack of strife. It would recharge you, encourage you, empower you. Inspire reciprocation. An "easy" relationship would be a soft place to fall, a breath of fresh air, what you would want to seek out at the end of a day. And fun.
I thought he was nuts. What a fairytale! Nothing was that simple! So, I held onto my belief that relationships were challenging. That belief led me right into that experience.
It wasn't until about 6 years ago that I realized the really great relationships and most meaningful choices in my life had a common purity much like my stepdad described: they were clear, felt "right", nourished my soul, inspired me to give back. Some outstanding examples: meeting/getting to know my stepdad and stepsiblings, my best friend in high school, the choice to perservere getting a Masters Degree, to have and love my kids, and meeting/getting to know my best friend in the universe Miss Daisy.
So what did that say about romantic relationships? That was still elusive to me until about 2 weeks ago as Neat Guy and I sat out on his deck one evening laughing and talking. We carry on like we've known eachother for years. It just flows, it's so comfortable, so fun, so healthy. Out of the blue I realized:
Daddy was right.
People try to bottle what he described. Psychology buffs try to explain it, replicate it.What it boils down to is that many truly solid relationships and choices are beneficent, harmonious, and reciprocal on what I can only think to term as the "soul" level. They recharge, encourage, and empower. Life will still swarm around you...yet with these people, in these decisions there is clarity and security...Your soul can rest. Which is the kind of "easy" he meant.
It's that easy.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
On Dating a Neat Guy
10 random things I like about Neat Guy:
1) We laugh. A lot. And both have a strong history of laughing in very serious moments, like meetings and funerals. I can't believe I did not get pulled over today for laughing so hard while driving.
2) He carries the "go boxes" out of restaurants. Not sure why I like this so much. I just do.
3) He's conscientious and responsible. I like his morals, and I especially like that he applies them to himself first--like oxygen on an airplane. Isn't that how it ought to be, really?
4) He's forthright. By which I mean he has limited ability to filter his comments. But I admire that in a person.
5) We're each smart, in ways that overlap just enough so we learn a lot from each other.
5) He's both cute and ornery. Seems to have started this way as a little brother and just stuck with it.
6) Despite #5, he's really grounded. Almost AR. Which is good b/c I can be both a space cadet and OCD. Which leads to...
7) He accepts me as is. Yay!
8) He builds interesting stuff like strobe light water fountains.
9) He makes great coffee.
10) His dog. She's a riot. And I think she's put a good word in for me.
1) We laugh. A lot. And both have a strong history of laughing in very serious moments, like meetings and funerals. I can't believe I did not get pulled over today for laughing so hard while driving.
2) He carries the "go boxes" out of restaurants. Not sure why I like this so much. I just do.
3) He's conscientious and responsible. I like his morals, and I especially like that he applies them to himself first--like oxygen on an airplane. Isn't that how it ought to be, really?
4) He's forthright. By which I mean he has limited ability to filter his comments. But I admire that in a person.
5) We're each smart, in ways that overlap just enough so we learn a lot from each other.
5) He's both cute and ornery. Seems to have started this way as a little brother and just stuck with it.
6) Despite #5, he's really grounded. Almost AR. Which is good b/c I can be both a space cadet and OCD. Which leads to...
7) He accepts me as is. Yay!
8) He builds interesting stuff like strobe light water fountains.
9) He makes great coffee.
10) His dog. She's a riot. And I think she's put a good word in for me.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Malfunction Junction
In the past week: garage door confirmed it is indeed possessed, water line to icemaker launched sneak attack into my bedroom, and cell phone jumped into the toilet. Now none of them work. NONE!!! The prima donna garage door demanded a new electronic board thingy. Free, luckily, but don't tell her that. Just gotta call her fairy godmother to install it. The water...well, that's in progress with big fans and carpet pulled up in 1/4 of my bedroom and a hole in the kitchen wall. The phone is in the equivalent of ICU--a container of rice. I think it was suicidal in the first place, launching into a body of water like that and unable to swim. I don't blame myself. Obviously it had issues.
And something is on fire in Wagoner County. Not sure what. Probably grass--and who knows, it could be the fun kind. (Feds burn that stuff, right?) Probably not a big deal. But the haze yesterday was unlike any I've seen since my last visit to L.A. and any kind of smoke sends my sinuses into lockdown. Ya. As a matter of fact I WOULD like some cheese with my whine.
The silver lining is...and I promised I would fess up...I met a very neat guy.
And something is on fire in Wagoner County. Not sure what. Probably grass--and who knows, it could be the fun kind. (Feds burn that stuff, right?) Probably not a big deal. But the haze yesterday was unlike any I've seen since my last visit to L.A. and any kind of smoke sends my sinuses into lockdown. Ya. As a matter of fact I WOULD like some cheese with my whine.
The silver lining is...and I promised I would fess up...I met a very neat guy.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
I Hate Dating
Never liked dating. Never. Not even when I was young and kinda hot. I believe it was my best guy friend who coined the term "wolves". That made me...prey. And that's how it felt. Having a boyfriend, on the other hand, was kinda fun.
16 years and one scrapped marriage later I am on the dating scene again. I won't address the "hot" issue; you've seen the curlers. Dating as a divorcee is just as stupid and awkward as dating in highschool. Maybe worse. Because now the internet is involved. You've been working the married/monogmous circuit for a decade...you don't know where single people hide. Log on to Match.com to find the answer: they are hiding in a dark room in their house tapping away on their lap top. Like you. Thousands of them. Millions, maybe. They all have sparkling personalities and the bestest of intentions, so their profiles say. It's like reading a resume wearing beer goggles. Everybody looks like a "10".
AND there is a post-divorce pattern. It goes something like this:
1) Create profile, don't post any personal info or pictures. Log on as the opposite sex to eyeball your local competition.
2) Post a vague picture. I posted one of my eyeball, which solicited the comment, "Hey. Nice eyeball. What does the rest of you look like?"
3) Post an essay about how glorious you are, along with a Glamour Shot. Feel very flattered by the cyber attention as your profile is viewed by 150 people in one day.
4) Freak out and hide your profile.
5) Realize no potential date would be able to find you in public based on that photo (some folks skip this step).
6) Take 1 million photos, post 3.
7) Get the bright idea to do a general scan of your local cyberpopulations. Find 5 people you know in real life and block them. No real people allowed!
8) Get an email from a funny, cool, and intelligent guy. Find out he was in your highschool Trig class. Go out, have a great time. It's just like a date with...your brother. Keep in touch.
9) Congratulate yourself for going on a date. Hide profile.
10) Your favorite bank lady runs off to Kansas to marry a guy she met on Match.
11) Get bored, unhide profile, rewrite profile. Enjoy the attention as it validates yourplagarizing and photo shop skills ability to flirt and attract admirers.
12) Recieve a message from your lawn guy warning you to proceed with caution 'cause there are a lot of guys online only after "one thing" (and btw, he met the most wonderful gal on here!),
13) Email back and forth with a few guys, no dates. Lots of winks from the AARP crowd. Perverts.
14) Meet--in no particular order--The Player, The Guilty Neurotic, The Midlife Crisis Neurotic, The Jet Setter, The Con, and Edward Scissor Hands. Start to take it personally.
15) Let best friend look at profile, who immediately finds the most compatible individual in the state for you and promptly blogs the experience.
16) THE Match--the highly compatible one who actually comes across like a real life person--just isn't ready. Which is fine. That's how I felt last year. Hence all the profile hiding.
Bitter? No. Exasperated? Yes. "But I'm busy! I don't have time to get out there." Nah. What a cop out. I'm not too busy to tweak the wording on the profile 500 times or check the website. "But I have kids...it's hard to meet people when you have kids!" Seriously? Kids are like puppies. They're cute and provide fodder for conversations. There's lots of hunky single dads out there at those kid functions. Why don't we have a local chapter of "Parents Without Partners"? Oh, because in 2011 that's fodder for an SNL skit. In the end, my lesson is exactly what I tell my 11 year old about the DSi: "Put the electronics down and go play." I'll keep y'all posted. Note the irony.
16 years and one scrapped marriage later I am on the dating scene again. I won't address the "hot" issue; you've seen the curlers. Dating as a divorcee is just as stupid and awkward as dating in highschool. Maybe worse. Because now the internet is involved. You've been working the married/monogmous circuit for a decade...you don't know where single people hide. Log on to Match.com to find the answer: they are hiding in a dark room in their house tapping away on their lap top. Like you. Thousands of them. Millions, maybe. They all have sparkling personalities and the bestest of intentions, so their profiles say. It's like reading a resume wearing beer goggles. Everybody looks like a "10".
AND there is a post-divorce pattern. It goes something like this:
1) Create profile, don't post any personal info or pictures. Log on as the opposite sex to eyeball your local competition.
2) Post a vague picture. I posted one of my eyeball, which solicited the comment, "Hey. Nice eyeball. What does the rest of you look like?"
3) Post an essay about how glorious you are, along with a Glamour Shot. Feel very flattered by the cyber attention as your profile is viewed by 150 people in one day.
4) Freak out and hide your profile.
5) Realize no potential date would be able to find you in public based on that photo (some folks skip this step).
6) Take 1 million photos, post 3.
7) Get the bright idea to do a general scan of your local cyberpopulations. Find 5 people you know in real life and block them. No real people allowed!
8) Get an email from a funny, cool, and intelligent guy. Find out he was in your highschool Trig class. Go out, have a great time. It's just like a date with...your brother. Keep in touch.
9) Congratulate yourself for going on a date. Hide profile.
10) Your favorite bank lady runs off to Kansas to marry a guy she met on Match.
11) Get bored, unhide profile, rewrite profile. Enjoy the attention as it validates your
12) Recieve a message from your lawn guy warning you to proceed with caution 'cause there are a lot of guys online only after "one thing" (and btw, he met the most wonderful gal on here!),
13) Email back and forth with a few guys, no dates. Lots of winks from the AARP crowd. Perverts.
14) Meet--in no particular order--The Player, The Guilty Neurotic, The Midlife Crisis Neurotic, The Jet Setter, The Con, and Edward Scissor Hands. Start to take it personally.
15) Let best friend look at profile, who immediately finds the most compatible individual in the state for you and promptly blogs the experience.
16) THE Match--the highly compatible one who actually comes across like a real life person--just isn't ready. Which is fine. That's how I felt last year. Hence all the profile hiding.
Bitter? No. Exasperated? Yes. "But I'm busy! I don't have time to get out there." Nah. What a cop out. I'm not too busy to tweak the wording on the profile 500 times or check the website. "But I have kids...it's hard to meet people when you have kids!" Seriously? Kids are like puppies. They're cute and provide fodder for conversations. There's lots of hunky single dads out there at those kid functions. Why don't we have a local chapter of "Parents Without Partners"? Oh, because in 2011 that's fodder for an SNL skit. In the end, my lesson is exactly what I tell my 11 year old about the DSi: "Put the electronics down and go play." I'll keep y'all posted. Note the irony.
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