I'm at medical appointment 2 out of 3 today, and 3 out of 5 this week. We're all somewhat familiar with the "Hurry Up And Wait" nature of medical appointments. I tend to bring my laptop with me so that I can be productive, catch up on email and Facebook, and try to make the most of the down time that would normally be filled with anxiety ("What's wrong with me NOW???").
One of my appointments was interrupted this morning due to someone else's emergency. On one hand, such is life...on the other hand, it places more delay into the mix, and involves someone else being in medical trouble.
I try to take care of myself, but there are so many factors at work here. There's a dearth of time (the time-dearth continuum). A paucity of time to pause (a pause-paucity). I love to spend time with family and friends, but part of me will continually resent so many plans having to be in place. I wouldn't be a hermit if allowed, but I would definitely be somewhat more reclusive.
After this appointment, I head back to work (which I normally love). Today, I wish I could just be in the woods with a book and a blanket. Especially right now.
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
Putting Off Needle-Work and Machinery
I drive my doctors a bit batty because I procrastinate with impunity when it comes to the completion of labs and scans. To say that my medical history is a bit awkward would be like saying that The Golden Gate Bridge is a bit orange.
Some of the more heinous medical issues that I've experienced started between the ages of six and ten. I have vivid memories of clutching a teddy bear and being promised ice cream if I would just sit still for a moment while being poked, prodded, and drained of small amounts of blood via very large needles. This happened almost monthly. Although I'm stoic when I go in to get phlebotomized (blood work) as an adult, it's still reminiscent of a time that is best long forgotten.
This week and next are chock full of medical appointments and testing...and I can't put it off any longer. It drives *me* a little batty when colleagues wonder why I am so busy all of the time. Between my medical issues, family obligations, work, and the few moments that I take as mine...very little time is left. Let me say this once (and hopefully, I won't have to say it often): Relative youth does not equal an unlimited amount of time and energy for volunteerism and favors. I'm happy to help when I can...but I'm (respectfully) clear about the issue when I'm unable to assist.
Setting limits is important. Judging another person for setting those limits should not be an acceptable practice.
Be well, fellow Introverts.
Some of the more heinous medical issues that I've experienced started between the ages of six and ten. I have vivid memories of clutching a teddy bear and being promised ice cream if I would just sit still for a moment while being poked, prodded, and drained of small amounts of blood via very large needles. This happened almost monthly. Although I'm stoic when I go in to get phlebotomized (blood work) as an adult, it's still reminiscent of a time that is best long forgotten.
This week and next are chock full of medical appointments and testing...and I can't put it off any longer. It drives *me* a little batty when colleagues wonder why I am so busy all of the time. Between my medical issues, family obligations, work, and the few moments that I take as mine...very little time is left. Let me say this once (and hopefully, I won't have to say it often): Relative youth does not equal an unlimited amount of time and energy for volunteerism and favors. I'm happy to help when I can...but I'm (respectfully) clear about the issue when I'm unable to assist.
Setting limits is important. Judging another person for setting those limits should not be an acceptable practice.
Be well, fellow Introverts.
Monday, July 11, 2016
Moving Right Along
This morning, I caught the tail end of a story on NPR about managing medical care when you have a chronic condition. To say that managing medical care (coordinating between insurance coverage and multiple doctors) is no picnic is an understatement. This is a story to which a lot of us can personally relate.
Living with Major Depression is *absolutely* no picnic, but it is chemical and biological in nature, which allows me to accept that it is not a character defect. The de-stigmatization of mental illness is a personal passion--trust me when I say that I have been discriminated against on the basis of my condition, many times over. A combination of medication and CBT (a specific type of counseling) is the best combination of treatments for me. Unfortunately, it's very difficult to keep the CBT going on a consistent basis.
When a person has migraines, they begin to know their triggers inside and out...making sure that allergies are addressed (avoiding allergens altogether or taking medicine for them), sunglasses are used in the sun and adequate water is taken with them everywhere that they go. Similarly, when a person has Major Depression, triggers are known intimately. I avoid certain types of plots in movies and TV shows. When major life events are about to happen (family surgeries, graduations, weddings, births, funerals), I have a "to-go" kit of things that help. Knitting is a big item in the kit, as well as coloring books, novels, and music. I try to remain aware of emotional eating and drinking, and I keep a journal close by.
The past few months have been rife with major life events. With that in mind, I am swimming right along and moving right along with the twists and turns of fate. My most recent efforts have centered around finding a new counselor...something I have been working at for almost a full year. Finding and keeping a counselor is very difficult when one lives in the North Country of New York. I've had counselors retire, change practices and insurance coverage, move out of the area, and my personal favorite---drop me entirely without adequate notice or a plan for continued care.
I am lucky to have a wonderful family--a supportive spouse and two understanding stepsons. Without their love and support I would struggle a lot more with the issue of continued care. However, the expectation in this region *should* be one of consistent and continued care, without the added hurdles of spending hours on the phone attempting to coordinate services.
Be well, fellow Introverts.
Living with Major Depression is *absolutely* no picnic, but it is chemical and biological in nature, which allows me to accept that it is not a character defect. The de-stigmatization of mental illness is a personal passion--trust me when I say that I have been discriminated against on the basis of my condition, many times over. A combination of medication and CBT (a specific type of counseling) is the best combination of treatments for me. Unfortunately, it's very difficult to keep the CBT going on a consistent basis.
When a person has migraines, they begin to know their triggers inside and out...making sure that allergies are addressed (avoiding allergens altogether or taking medicine for them), sunglasses are used in the sun and adequate water is taken with them everywhere that they go. Similarly, when a person has Major Depression, triggers are known intimately. I avoid certain types of plots in movies and TV shows. When major life events are about to happen (family surgeries, graduations, weddings, births, funerals), I have a "to-go" kit of things that help. Knitting is a big item in the kit, as well as coloring books, novels, and music. I try to remain aware of emotional eating and drinking, and I keep a journal close by.
The past few months have been rife with major life events. With that in mind, I am swimming right along and moving right along with the twists and turns of fate. My most recent efforts have centered around finding a new counselor...something I have been working at for almost a full year. Finding and keeping a counselor is very difficult when one lives in the North Country of New York. I've had counselors retire, change practices and insurance coverage, move out of the area, and my personal favorite---drop me entirely without adequate notice or a plan for continued care.
I am lucky to have a wonderful family--a supportive spouse and two understanding stepsons. Without their love and support I would struggle a lot more with the issue of continued care. However, the expectation in this region *should* be one of consistent and continued care, without the added hurdles of spending hours on the phone attempting to coordinate services.
Be well, fellow Introverts.
Thursday, June 30, 2016
Better Home and Garden, and Ram Dass
One of my favorite books of all time is "How Can I Help?" by Ram Dass and Paul Gorman. It's a bird's eye view of the natures and passions that sway an individual's drive to assist other beings in the world. The book was given to me by a dear friend during a very difficult time in my life, right before moving home to New York State.
There are so many wonderful points in the book, some more amusing than helpful (ironically). But the best (and the most memorable to me) was a little allegory about a wise man who refused to wear pants in his hut. Everyone went to the wise man for assistance because he was so self-assured (and presumably, a sage). However, his disciples wondered why he refused to wear pants in his hut. His answer (paraphrased): 'You are in my hut. My hut serves as my pants. I am comfortable here as I am, and you have sought me out.' The moral that I took away from that story was simple--those who are most comfortable with themselves wind up being perceived as wise (with the wherewithal to truly listen to others), and comfort with one's self does mean making others uncomfortable from time to time.
Another moral of that story is that we are in the best place to help others when we have addressed our own needs (Maslow's Hierarchy speaks to that as well).
This week has been about caring for my space, my mind-space, and my restfulness. I believe this activity has made me a better partner to Romeyn in the process, as well as a better friend, better worker, and better person.
Be well, fellow Introverts.
There are so many wonderful points in the book, some more amusing than helpful (ironically). But the best (and the most memorable to me) was a little allegory about a wise man who refused to wear pants in his hut. Everyone went to the wise man for assistance because he was so self-assured (and presumably, a sage). However, his disciples wondered why he refused to wear pants in his hut. His answer (paraphrased): 'You are in my hut. My hut serves as my pants. I am comfortable here as I am, and you have sought me out.' The moral that I took away from that story was simple--those who are most comfortable with themselves wind up being perceived as wise (with the wherewithal to truly listen to others), and comfort with one's self does mean making others uncomfortable from time to time.
Another moral of that story is that we are in the best place to help others when we have addressed our own needs (Maslow's Hierarchy speaks to that as well).
This week has been about caring for my space, my mind-space, and my restfulness. I believe this activity has made me a better partner to Romeyn in the process, as well as a better friend, better worker, and better person.
Be well, fellow Introverts.
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Religion Is, or Is Not
I'm a big believer in The Golden Rule. It seems to be the basic tenet of most major religions, at least down at the very root of them. For years, I wasn't sure what religion I wanted to espouse. Frankly, it's still a mystery. I've joined a number of churches as well as some other places of gathering/worship during the course of my life. One of my favorite exchanges in the movie "Harold and Maude" just about sums it up for me:
Harold: "Do you pray?"
Maude: "Pray? No...I communicate."
Harold: "With God?"
Maude: "With life!"
There's a difference between Atheism and Agnosticism. My belief system is amorphous in that I do not believe I know enough of the world to define a god. However, I have absolutely no interest in this belief being right for anyone but me.
Another favorite quote (from an acquaintance of my mother, back in the eighties):
"I don't know if there is a Heaven or Hell. I do know that we can make Heaven or Hell for ourselves here on Earth."
My great grandfather on my mother's side wrote a book about the function of religion. I studied some of the religions of the world during my Undergraduate program, as well as during my Graduate program (religion being one of the very first forms of government).
Religion has so many benefits, and it enables groups to do some excellent works for the public good. It also requires faith in specific principles, precepts and histories. It is this requirement that I cannot keep. No religion seems to fit the bill.
So, the earth is my cathedral. I do pray/communicate, but generally not indoors. In the words of a yogi that I met in Albany in 1998, "Love is all there is." No one need share one's viewpoint of the world.
Be well, fellow Introverts.
Harold: "Do you pray?"
Maude: "Pray? No...I communicate."
Harold: "With God?"
Maude: "With life!"
There's a difference between Atheism and Agnosticism. My belief system is amorphous in that I do not believe I know enough of the world to define a god. However, I have absolutely no interest in this belief being right for anyone but me.
Another favorite quote (from an acquaintance of my mother, back in the eighties):
"I don't know if there is a Heaven or Hell. I do know that we can make Heaven or Hell for ourselves here on Earth."
My great grandfather on my mother's side wrote a book about the function of religion. I studied some of the religions of the world during my Undergraduate program, as well as during my Graduate program (religion being one of the very first forms of government).
Religion has so many benefits, and it enables groups to do some excellent works for the public good. It also requires faith in specific principles, precepts and histories. It is this requirement that I cannot keep. No religion seems to fit the bill.
So, the earth is my cathedral. I do pray/communicate, but generally not indoors. In the words of a yogi that I met in Albany in 1998, "Love is all there is." No one need share one's viewpoint of the world.
Be well, fellow Introverts.
Thursday, June 2, 2016
The Impending "Empty Nest"
In late August of this year, Kyle will move into college. My younger stepson usually spends one week with us, and one week with his mom on an alternating schedule. Dinner plans are relatively static. He's with us for dinner on Mondays and Wednesdays regardless of the week, barring circumstances that necessitate changing this schedule on the fly.
My elder stepson (Brady) has been effectively gone from our house for five years. I cried at his High School graduation party, and I anticipate doing so at Kyle's party as well. It is right that children grow up and leave the home to experience life and new adventures. Since I've really only known my boys since they were 10 and 15 years of age (respectively), it's just so hard to let go.
Kyle will graduate from High School in three weeks. He'll move into college at the end of the summer. Brady will return to his graduate studies in Binghamton after a wonderful summer in Pennsylvania. The house will be empty. Our house. Our little family's house. This is the house that the boys grew up in, that I was happy to move into and join as the newest member of our unit in 2009. The swing set is gone from the backyard, the bag of outdoor toys gathering dust in our basement. The leftover decorations from past birthday celebrations are up in the attic.
No one is perfect--no adult, no teen, no child, no babe in arms. Everyone tries their best and muddles through situations as they arise. The crux of the matter for me (the matter of life, I guess) is that I've only known my boys (really known them) for eight years. I've been a part of their family for seven years. Such a wonderful part of my life is winding down. I suppose that I'm as ready as I will ever be. As a friend once said, "How wonderful that you feel this way about the children in your life. Not every stepparent or stepchild is so lucky."
How true.
My elder stepson (Brady) has been effectively gone from our house for five years. I cried at his High School graduation party, and I anticipate doing so at Kyle's party as well. It is right that children grow up and leave the home to experience life and new adventures. Since I've really only known my boys since they were 10 and 15 years of age (respectively), it's just so hard to let go.
Kyle will graduate from High School in three weeks. He'll move into college at the end of the summer. Brady will return to his graduate studies in Binghamton after a wonderful summer in Pennsylvania. The house will be empty. Our house. Our little family's house. This is the house that the boys grew up in, that I was happy to move into and join as the newest member of our unit in 2009. The swing set is gone from the backyard, the bag of outdoor toys gathering dust in our basement. The leftover decorations from past birthday celebrations are up in the attic.
No one is perfect--no adult, no teen, no child, no babe in arms. Everyone tries their best and muddles through situations as they arise. The crux of the matter for me (the matter of life, I guess) is that I've only known my boys (really known them) for eight years. I've been a part of their family for seven years. Such a wonderful part of my life is winding down. I suppose that I'm as ready as I will ever be. As a friend once said, "How wonderful that you feel this way about the children in your life. Not every stepparent or stepchild is so lucky."
How true.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
We Wish You a Neuro-Typical Hallmark Occasion
As some of you may be aware, the month of May is Mental Health Awareness Month. If I have been seen wearing more than my fair share of green, that's the awareness color for mental health and suicide prevention. May and June are full of occasions for everyone, but particularly for my family: My sister's birthday, Mother's Day, my birthday, Father's Day, and my wedding Anniversary.
In the interest of continuing the hope and prayer that someday, mental health issues will be recognized as physical ailments and not a reason for stigma--this Introvert is coming out of the closet. I have clinical depression, and there are things that send me on a spiral during this time of year.
Now don't get me wrong...this time of year is wonderful! But it does send me on a hormonal/chemical/emotional roller-coaster. I'm up! I'm down. I'm up! I'm down. I'm up up up! Neither my sister, nor I, have a "normal" family structure. We didn't grow up with a normal family structure (bi-coastal parents, reblended into a SuperFamily), and as adults I am married into a SuperBlend and my sister is going through the wringer in the mission to have a child.
I have had, and I continue to have, some of the same medical issues that my sister has been facing for years. Although I talk about making the conscious decision not to procreate (which I still think was totally the right call for me, for other reasons), the reality is that my thirty-something body was not fertility-friendly. I didn't want to face the issue and fight it. My sister was much, much, much stronger than me in this regard. I'm cheerleading for her to find her FutureBaby (she's going through the adoption process, which is full of its own harrowing perseverances).
This time of year makes me think deeply about the meaning of family. This is also the most sought-after visitation time for all members of my DoubleWhammoSuperBlend. As an Introvert, the perception of pressure (real or imagined) makes me want to curl up with my cats and a book. It makes me want to ignore my phone and simply exist. In short, it makes me anti-technology (sorry, husband!).
In the past I certainly haven't been shy about the difficulties I face every year, on or about this time of year. But I think that it's best just to come out in full technicolor and say it: Hallmark, get your act together and come up with more realistic cards, celebrating the full range of The American Family. Come up with a name for family members who are thus far unnamed but exist semi-ubiquitously. Down with "We Wish You a Neuro-Typical Occasion!" and up with "We Wish You a Great Occasion!"
You're missing out on a great market for the non-typicals, if you can even call us that! :)
In the interest of continuing the hope and prayer that someday, mental health issues will be recognized as physical ailments and not a reason for stigma--this Introvert is coming out of the closet. I have clinical depression, and there are things that send me on a spiral during this time of year.
Now don't get me wrong...this time of year is wonderful! But it does send me on a hormonal/chemical/emotional roller-coaster. I'm up! I'm down. I'm up! I'm down. I'm up up up! Neither my sister, nor I, have a "normal" family structure. We didn't grow up with a normal family structure (bi-coastal parents, reblended into a SuperFamily), and as adults I am married into a SuperBlend and my sister is going through the wringer in the mission to have a child.
I have had, and I continue to have, some of the same medical issues that my sister has been facing for years. Although I talk about making the conscious decision not to procreate (which I still think was totally the right call for me, for other reasons), the reality is that my thirty-something body was not fertility-friendly. I didn't want to face the issue and fight it. My sister was much, much, much stronger than me in this regard. I'm cheerleading for her to find her FutureBaby (she's going through the adoption process, which is full of its own harrowing perseverances).
This time of year makes me think deeply about the meaning of family. This is also the most sought-after visitation time for all members of my DoubleWhammoSuperBlend. As an Introvert, the perception of pressure (real or imagined) makes me want to curl up with my cats and a book. It makes me want to ignore my phone and simply exist. In short, it makes me anti-technology (sorry, husband!).
In the past I certainly haven't been shy about the difficulties I face every year, on or about this time of year. But I think that it's best just to come out in full technicolor and say it: Hallmark, get your act together and come up with more realistic cards, celebrating the full range of The American Family. Come up with a name for family members who are thus far unnamed but exist semi-ubiquitously. Down with "We Wish You a Neuro-Typical Occasion!" and up with "We Wish You a Great Occasion!"
You're missing out on a great market for the non-typicals, if you can even call us that! :)
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