Happy New Year everyone!
Can you believe that Christmas is over and we are into another new year already? Where does time go? Does it feel like it's hard to believe another year has gone by, and yet at the same time feel like one year has been more like a thousand years given the health circumstances of late? If so, you're not alone. Have you dreaded the thought of answering the most common January question about resolutions? And have you wondered why on earth someone would think you would be crazy enough to add some additional kind of work to your already full (recovery/caregiving) plate? Again, I assure you that you are not alone! My, how good we (all of society) are at making life complicated sometimes.... My vote? If you are going to entertain the idea of making resolutions, don't forget to fuel them with hope, or you will risk crashing in a big way.
As a whole I don't think resolutions are terrible - and in fact I appreciate that so many resolutions involve the desire to make good physical choices (exercising, losing weight, eating right, etc). But, let's face it - aside from celebrating the coming of the new year (if that's even important to you), the new year is all about making resolutions that are notorious for being nearly impossible to keep. For example, in the context of serious health issues, how does one resolve to get better anyhow? You can't just will your body to heal on your timetable. You can try - the Lord knows I have, but if you could really will it away that way, I'd be doing anything but what I am now - which is writing from my hospital bed in the middle of our living room where I have been confined for a few years now. And still, we make unrealistic resolutions every year. We aren't always the sharpest knives in the drawer are we? Don't worry, that's rhetorical;0.
Okay, so back to hope. Where does hope fit into the mix? I believe that if you truly have the hope deep within yourself that it is possible to reach your goals, you'll be much more likely to fight for those goals. Otherwise it's self defeating (eg."well, that's okay that it didn't work out, I didn't really want it that bad anyway") isn't it? And what if hope is too hard to conjure up? Borrow it. Yep, I said borrow it. Borrow it from someone who is able to believe that what you hope for is not only possible, but probable too. It may be from God, family, friends, and sometimes even from strangers, but wherever it comes from - borrow it!
How does one borrow hope? Well, have you ever in your life held onto hope for someone else who was unable for some reason or too afraid to hold onto any hope themselves? Hope that their child would survive an accident or surgery, that they would truly find a partner, or be a mom, or get that doctorate or excel at something they were too afraid to hope was possible? Consider asking them to do this for you now. Ask them to regularly tell you when they notice you've made progress that you likely don't or can't see (much like seeing a child once a month would look dramatically different to the observer than it would for the parent seeing that child everyday). Ask them to remind you that before all of this illness that you accomplished much - and that you will still be able to in the future, even if it is in different ways or in different ways just for now. Ideally you already have someone who does this without being asked, but if not, try not to be too proud to ask; a little extra hope goes a long way! We all need cheerleaders in our lives, and so we must remember to do this for others/each other.
That's all fine and dandy, but how do the hope and the resolutions work together in all practicality? First, I believe that the only resolutions needed are to a) Be cheerleaders for others - encouraging them, believing in them, and lending them strength and hope and b) to boldly ask others to do that for us too - especially when hope is too scary to fathom on our own. From there, my personal hope comes from God and in those people I believe God has blessed me with in my life. I truly believe that anything is possible with God, and that is where I get my strength. I understand however that this may not be your experience, and I respect where you are on your journey in life. I wish you much hope, unstoppable peace, and an abundance of support - both from known and unexpected places.
In closing, as for my hopes for 2012? I hope that you have little - or no recovering or caregiving left to do because all is well. I hope that this year brings you much peace, laughter, love, and precious time with family and friends (especially with the wee ones who bring so much joy to one and all!)! And finally, from the bottom of my heart I wish you much hope.
Happy New Year!!
Showing posts with label Patience Patients. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patience Patients. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Tip #123 Patience Patients; Hope in Resolutions
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Tip #330 Patience Patients; Zzzzzzz's via Your A, B, C's
Well, for starters, knowing you can't sleep is like knowing you're going to get stitches (and lets say without any freezing just for fun) at some point in the evening. You don't know when it will happen exactly, but you think about it, wait for it, and psych yourself up for it, telling yourself it will be fine. You are nervous about it, and frustrated that it hasn't happened yet, but you are okay. Then, three more hours pass without a word, and your restlessness is starting to get out of hand. So now I ask you this: What is worse? Is the procedure worse if you've been focusing on it - preparing for it all night, or is the pain of actually getting those stitches worse?
Well, I know that I find it easier to jump off a 40 foot bridge into water if I haven't been staring down at the water for 10 minutes. For me it is easier to jump when you haven't deliberated too much. So, I'd say the anticipation of the event is more often worse than the event itself - for bridges, for stitches, and of course, for sleeping too! (By the way, I used to think I was invincible and did all sorts of thing like bridge jumping, etc. I do NOT recommend it, nor do I recommend that you never think about consequences before making decisions. In my case I knew I was making that jump. The decision was made - it was just the logistics of it that were up for grabs!).
So, speaking of logistics - some would say that accepting the probability of not being able to go to sleep (or back to sleep) is self-defeating, and you'll never get a good night's sleep if you think that way. While I agree that pessimism isn't generally all that helpful, I don't think accepting a troublesome fact is pessimistic - just realistic, and ideally that realism is still paired with hope for the best outcome.
So then, why do I believe that accepting that you are having trouble sleeping can be a good thing? It's hard to fight something you can't see or acknowledge (of course accepting trouble sleeping as a fact is only helpful if you are actually are having trouble sleeping! LOL!). Okay, so if it is actually an issue, consider sleeping as a parallel to knowing you are going to jump off that bridge; you've acknowledged what will in all likelihood happen when you go to sleep (jump), and all that's left to do then is to figure out the logistics. Of course, each night can be different- as can the outcome of every jump. But in both cases, practicing helps.
For instance, for me - a lack of sleep is usually related to not being able to shut my brain down. Therefore, much like you do with a toddler when you want to help them lose their tears and be happy again - I use distraction. How? With the alphabet. Yep, I did say the alphabet. The alphabet method may not be the right method for you, but what do you have to lose if you try it? You're certainly not going to be missing sleep over it! So, here's the deal:
1) Pick a broad category. For example fruits and vegetables, or cars and trucks, or people you are related to, or TV shows, etc.
2) Starting at any letter you want (I usually start with m for some reason), name two or three things within the category. So, my fruit and veggie words go like this: melon, mango, mushroom.....
3) Work at it like it is something you want to really do well at - try not to quit just because you can't think of anything for certain letters; just move along to the next letter.
4) Count them.You don't need to do so, but counting keeps me more focused and more motivated. I get a point per word, and lose a point for each letter for which I can't come up with an answer. Before you ask, yes, I am aware of how silly and crazy that sounds, but it is what it is:)
I hope this method will be a good tool in your go-to-sleep-arsenal for you. Barring that, I hope you find all sorts of heathy distractions, and that sleeping becomes easier each night. Of course nothing will be perfect 100% of the time, so don't expect perfection. There should be no pressure on yourself if any technique, coping strategy, person, or situation isn't cooperating with your efforts in that direction. If it's not working, just put it away, and use a different tool for now.
Personally, I have used this strategy many many times, with varied categories over the years - it doesn't always work, but even when it doesn't get me to sleep, it gets me thinking about more relaxing things, which in itself is a great relief. I have done this with categories such as girl names, school subjects, names of atoms, songs, scriptures, animals (one for domestic, one for wild), and things that I love about people in my life.
Do you know the category that works best for me? Blessing counting. I am aware that it might sound trite or cheesy to say so, but it's true. It works well in helping me get to sleep or get back to sleep, because it truly makes me feel better, not just sleep better. It becomes my stored-in-my-head gratitude list of things to thank God for, both in ordinary life, and amidst turmoil too.
And, of course - I do it alphabetically, and starting with the letter m.
Happy A, B, Zzzzeee-ing!
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Tip #492 Patience Patients; Thwarting the GOOF
Who's the GOOF and why and how are we thwarting him? Well, it all has to do with pain being a pain in the you-know-what. And if we can thwart pain - well then the world is a better place, isn't it? So, here's my contribution to a better world…
There are three phases of pain in my books - four if you count the absence of pain, but I don't. Neither do I count the paper-cut version of pain for the purpose of this discussion - that's an annoyance or discomfort. I'm only talking about the kind of pain you may have in the recovery process as a result of a trauma or severe illness. In my experience, naming something makes it seem to have less power over you - that's how we thwart it. And the GOOF part? Well, stay tuned. In the mean time, do any of my self-proclaimed categories (below) seem familiar to you?
Phase I: Pep Talk Pain
This is the "Ug this really hurts" kind of pain. In most recovery situations - including the recovery stage for caregivers, some pain is to be expected. This phase of pain is reflective of the moments in the day to day recovery that are harder than others, but not unbearable. You know - the days you convince yourself to do those physical therapy exercises even though they hurt like crazy. Or, the times you carry little Johnny with his 2 leg casts on - he's not all that heavy, but the casts make carrying him awkward. Little Johnny seems to be 20 pounds heavier and you wish you could avoid it, but he needs you - so you suck it up and get it done.
That's the kind of pain in phase I. And we thwart it by pushing through it using - you guessed it - pep talks. How do you give yourself a pep talk? Well, in this case, remind yourself it's not forever - or that it won't be that bad, or that whatever you are doing is worth the pain. Remind yourself how far you've come; you've likely been in hospital, and so you've come far and conquered much to simply come home. Or, perhaps you can stand for 3 minutes this week, but a month ago it was 20 seconds. Whatever the scenario, if you don't already give yourself pep talks, then consider doing so. You might have to repeat the talk a few times, but eventually you drag yourself to do whatever "it" is, content that it's worth it.
That's the kind of pain in phase I. And we thwart it by pushing through it using - you guessed it - pep talks. How do you give yourself a pep talk? Well, in this case, remind yourself it's not forever - or that it won't be that bad, or that whatever you are doing is worth the pain. Remind yourself how far you've come; you've likely been in hospital, and so you've come far and conquered much to simply come home. Or, perhaps you can stand for 3 minutes this week, but a month ago it was 20 seconds. Whatever the scenario, if you don't already give yourself pep talks, then consider doing so. You might have to repeat the talk a few times, but eventually you drag yourself to do whatever "it" is, content that it's worth it.
Phase II: The Cut it Out Pain
Phase two pain makes you say "Cut it out already!" to the pain fairy. Yep, I said pain fairy. Do fairies only bring you good things? I think so. So instead, lets call him the Gobblinesque-Opposite-Of-Fairy pain fairy aka the big GOOF for short.
The big goof is the most annoying visitor you've ever had. He moves in without permission, and it feels like he'll never leave. He's the kind of guest that only leaves one square of toilet paper for you, he is obstinant (he certainly won't obey your wishes), he's arrogant (and why not, he flaunts his strength because he can), he is life sucking, and exhausting on every level. The clincher? He's irritating and seemingly powerful, and if you don't manage him well, he has the potential to affect just about everything. The big GOOF!
So how do we manage the Goof? How do we thwart him? Well, how do you train a dog not to pee in the house? You do as much preventatively as you can. In this case that means trying to go to bed consistently at a decent time (sleep helps with coping), and working hard at recovery (eg. doing your physical exercises). You also have to consciously work at balancing recovery with your ever changing physical and emotional limits, as exceeding them will put you behind even further. What else do we do to make sure the dog learns to pee outside? We change our tactics if the training isn't going well. With recovery pain, if the medication is working but side effects are worse than the original entity that they're treating - we speak to the doctor and see if there is another option. Or we tell any applicable practitioner that we're working hard what they asked us to, but with no change. Changing tactics isn't something we have to manage ourselves, and you are going to find the practitioners thanking you, not being upset with you under the circumstances.
Of course there are more ways of thwarting the GOOF than above, but you get the gist So, I'll only say one last thing about thwarting the GOOF in phase II; we need to get very very stern with him consistently. You wouldn't make a point of letting the dog pee in the house because you don't feel like getting up to let her out. If you did, you'd not get very far with training (and your house wouldn't smell so good either). So, if you want progress in thwarting the GOOF, you have to consistently tell him to Cut it Out!, and then go about the business of making him cut it out by putting the above into practice. It's not going to miraculously learn to go away on it's own any more than the dog will decide it doesn't want to pee inside anymore. It's up to you!
One last thing, barring all of the above, sometimes doing something to distract yourself from the pain can be helpful. I actually, yes, truly literally - cut things out. I love making cards, and so I print off little bits from a scrapbook program and keep them in an easy to grab place. Then, if pain is greater than phase I, but less than phase III, I cut the little bibs and bobs for future use. Doing such a thing doesn't make the pain go away, but it's a great distraction from the intensity of it. So, maybe consider cutting it out - literally or figuratively, or both!
The big goof is the most annoying visitor you've ever had. He moves in without permission, and it feels like he'll never leave. He's the kind of guest that only leaves one square of toilet paper for you, he is obstinant (he certainly won't obey your wishes), he's arrogant (and why not, he flaunts his strength because he can), he is life sucking, and exhausting on every level. The clincher? He's irritating and seemingly powerful, and if you don't manage him well, he has the potential to affect just about everything. The big GOOF!
So how do we manage the Goof? How do we thwart him? Well, how do you train a dog not to pee in the house? You do as much preventatively as you can. In this case that means trying to go to bed consistently at a decent time (sleep helps with coping), and working hard at recovery (eg. doing your physical exercises). You also have to consciously work at balancing recovery with your ever changing physical and emotional limits, as exceeding them will put you behind even further. What else do we do to make sure the dog learns to pee outside? We change our tactics if the training isn't going well. With recovery pain, if the medication is working but side effects are worse than the original entity that they're treating - we speak to the doctor and see if there is another option. Or we tell any applicable practitioner that we're working hard what they asked us to, but with no change. Changing tactics isn't something we have to manage ourselves, and you are going to find the practitioners thanking you, not being upset with you under the circumstances.
Of course there are more ways of thwarting the GOOF than above, but you get the gist So, I'll only say one last thing about thwarting the GOOF in phase II; we need to get very very stern with him consistently. You wouldn't make a point of letting the dog pee in the house because you don't feel like getting up to let her out. If you did, you'd not get very far with training (and your house wouldn't smell so good either). So, if you want progress in thwarting the GOOF, you have to consistently tell him to Cut it Out!, and then go about the business of making him cut it out by putting the above into practice. It's not going to miraculously learn to go away on it's own any more than the dog will decide it doesn't want to pee inside anymore. It's up to you!
One last thing, barring all of the above, sometimes doing something to distract yourself from the pain can be helpful. I actually, yes, truly literally - cut things out. I love making cards, and so I print off little bits from a scrapbook program and keep them in an easy to grab place. Then, if pain is greater than phase I, but less than phase III, I cut the little bibs and bobs for future use. Doing such a thing doesn't make the pain go away, but it's a great distraction from the intensity of it. So, maybe consider cutting it out - literally or figuratively, or both!
Phase III: The On - and Off - Your Rocker Pain
This phase reflects the mind-bending ability of pain. The "On your rocker" part is more of a literal description. Although you're not rocking on (that would be a great twist), you are simply rocking. It refers to the fetal position you find yourself in, while you rock yourself back and forth because the pain is way too intense to do anything but that. The "Off your rocker" part describes being in a state of such excruciating pain that it drives you nuts (aka off your rocker), and if it doesn't, it makes you wish that it actually would. As an aside I must ask how the "She's off her rocker" phrase came to mean that one was losing their mind - it makes absolutely no sense to me.
How do we thwart the phase III GOOF? By getting the appropriate treatment. This kind of pain is best managed by a physician or a nursing team, and sometimes in the emergency room. Medals are not handed out for suffering through pain, so don't feel like you have to suck it up. Just because something shouldn't hurt, doesn't mean that it isn't hurting, so speak up. Now, I know that after all you've been through the absolute last place you want to be is back to hospital, and believe me - I get that. But, know that consulting with a physician or your nursing team doesn't necessarily mean they will send you to hospital. Either way it's worth it; you will recover better and faster if you take the measures you need to in order to be in less pain. Imagine how much energy you'd have if it wasn't being eaten up with mind-bending pain!
So, there you have it. If you think I am crazy for naming the phases, I'm okay with that. To each his own, and if you have other strategies that work, hooray! I'd just like to say one last benefit of naming the phases: communication. Those around you may respond differently in most situations if they know which stage your in. Maybe loved ones will help by joining in the pep talk, or ask you to hang out when they otherwise wouldn't - fearing you'd be in too much pain - but you were only in the pep talk phase of pain. You never know. What I do know is joy is possible even though none of the three phases of pain seem to promote it. . It's sometimes harder to fight an enemy you can't see, but I find that naming it takes some of it's power away. Joy is worth fighting for - so lets fight the big GOOF for it! We shall conquer….
Happy GOOFing off!
How do we thwart the phase III GOOF? By getting the appropriate treatment. This kind of pain is best managed by a physician or a nursing team, and sometimes in the emergency room. Medals are not handed out for suffering through pain, so don't feel like you have to suck it up. Just because something shouldn't hurt, doesn't mean that it isn't hurting, so speak up. Now, I know that after all you've been through the absolute last place you want to be is back to hospital, and believe me - I get that. But, know that consulting with a physician or your nursing team doesn't necessarily mean they will send you to hospital. Either way it's worth it; you will recover better and faster if you take the measures you need to in order to be in less pain. Imagine how much energy you'd have if it wasn't being eaten up with mind-bending pain!
So, there you have it. If you think I am crazy for naming the phases, I'm okay with that. To each his own, and if you have other strategies that work, hooray! I'd just like to say one last benefit of naming the phases: communication. Those around you may respond differently in most situations if they know which stage your in. Maybe loved ones will help by joining in the pep talk, or ask you to hang out when they otherwise wouldn't - fearing you'd be in too much pain - but you were only in the pep talk phase of pain. You never know. What I do know is joy is possible even though none of the three phases of pain seem to promote it. . It's sometimes harder to fight an enemy you can't see, but I find that naming it takes some of it's power away. Joy is worth fighting for - so lets fight the big GOOF for it! We shall conquer….
Happy GOOFing off!
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Tip #138 Frugal Fixes and Patience Patients; Aaaaarrr Matey!
The average, healthy, well-adjusted adult gets up at seven-thirty in the morning feeling just plain terrible. Jean Kerr, Please Don't Eat the Daisies, 1957
How positive is that? And,if we extrapolate, what does that mean for the average "unhealthy," well-adjusted adult? Hmmm, that might be a dangerous experience for morning people! Maybe that's why sailors commit mutiny?
Okay, well, not really dangerous or mutinous, but, the point is that it is good to get as much sleep as you can in life. When you are recovering from illness and/or trauma, it is especially important. Sleep (or lack thereof) impacts your body's ability to heal, and your brain's ability to cope with the illness itself as well as the treatments thereof. Caregivers, this applies to you too! Sleep is truly wonderful in recovery; It's wonderful to feel like the world is once again a good place, that the pain is more manageable, that you're more energetic, and that those around you seem more joyful too. Yep, it's very important to make sure you get as much sleep as possible during this phase of life. It's amazing when it happens!
It never happens.
Never.
Okay, so maybe not never, but not often enough!
Sleep often seems possible, but not really probable.
Ug.
How does one get sleep when one is so ill? A lack of sleep usually results in a lot more pain, and difficulties with coping with said pain. And, here's the real kicker - a lot of pain (and thus difficulty coping) makes it harder to get to sleep and to stay asleep, too! Anxiety, medications, and illness can all affect our sleeping habits. Have no fear though, there is some good news...
How does one get sleep when one is so ill? A lack of sleep usually results in a lot more pain, and difficulties with coping with said pain. And, here's the real kicker - a lot of pain (and thus difficulty coping) makes it harder to get to sleep and to stay asleep, too! Anxiety, medications, and illness can all affect our sleeping habits. Have no fear though, there is some good news...
There are a ton of things that you can do to help stop this crazy cycle. The one site that I especially like covers a lot of ground, and I'd encourage you to exploring the site yourself (you must click on one of the links below to get there, but once there you can explore more). However, if you'd prefer it, I've listed the three sections that I think are most relevant on said site in the links below.
Okay, so where does the "frugal fix " part come in? It helps address the issue of getting back to sleep once you're up. Recovery can result in nightmares due to stress, sleep cycles being wonky due to medications, a planned wake up due to the need to take meds in the middle of the night, and so on...While the techniques on the site are helpful in this scenario as well, in my experience, nothing works so well for getting back to sleep as addressing pain and light. What? Re pain - ask yourself if your pain is controlled, and if not, rectify that situation. Re light - wear an eye mask.
Wow you say, that was huge. She's as intelligent as a rocket scientist and as original as a fine painting. No? I know it sounds silly to have such a simple solution for getting back to sleep, but when you're up and want to get back to sleep, why not try it? Now, I know that you may be resistant to wearing a mask all night, so don't. When you wake up and want to go back to sleep - address the pain med issue first, and then put the mask on (even if it's still dark). For most, this is relaxing, and it thwarts the biological clock that wakes you up when the sun is shining! And, a mask is under $10! Nice.
And finally, you ask why the Aaaarrr Matey? Maybe you're not asking, but I'll tell you anyway! I'm a bit of a moron (definitely not a rocket scientist!). For quite some time after I got my mask, I thought it was called a patch (and even got others calling it that too). I have to keep remembering "patient wears mask, pirate wears patch!" Silly, yes, but it works. And, laughing at yourself is never a bad thing. By all means, laugh away at me yourself, too. I don't mind at all:)
On the other hand, maybe the whole pirate thing isn't entirely without merit. After all, the goal of wearing the mask does have a hint of thievery... and the booty is stolen sleep! Aaaarrrr!
Happy Pirating!
Monday, February 21, 2011
Tip #216 Relative Relations AND Patience Patients; A Call for a Superhero
"It's a bird, it's a plane, er, well, okay it's not Superman, but it is still a very valuable superhero; it's Captain Decision-Maker!" Captain Decision-Maker? Well, in my estimation he's as much of a superhero as Superman or Spider man could ever be. Unfortunately however, she/he's also just as fictional.
My amazingly intelligent friend Miss K.W (she's socially brilliant too), was the first to introduce me to the phrase "I'm feeling decision-powerless right now." I don't know if she coined the phrase or if it's a well-known (ish) colloquialism, but I bet she did coin it. It literally means what it says "decision-powerless" but it's so much more than that, too. Let's take a stab at the 5 W's...
What
Decision-Powerlessness is the feeling of a lack of power to make a decision. One would think it is the feeling of a lack of power to make a good decision, but it's not; it's any decision.
When
This state-of-being is apt to happen when one is overtired, overwhelmed, and/or overly emotional. It often happens when one is in copious amounts of pain, extremely fearful/fretful, and any other stressful situation that affects one's ability to think.
To Whom
I couldn't decide whether to put this topic in "relative relations" or in "patience patients," as I'm not sure who experiences decision powerlessness more often, or to a greater degree. I suppose it might also apply to medical professionals too - though one would hope much less often! But I digress... in the end, I've decided to put it in both categories, and I won't know until this is posted whether that will work (new blogger and all), but here's hoping.
Why
Because illness and recovery and trauma happen to people. Real people. And it's hard. Really hard.
How (to manage it)
How to manage it is a tough one to answer because oftentimes the solution requires making more decisions. but in my experience (as patient, caregiver, and professional), I'd say start here:
A) Call for Captain Decision-Maker.... oh, if it was only that easy! Okay, seriously,
a) Try to remove yourself from any additional stimuli (other than the usual stress of recovery), be it particularly stressful or not. For example, turn off the TV or send the neighbour home so there is less info to process.
b) Admit to yourself and any other relevant person in the situation that you are feeling decision-powerless. Actually use the phrase, don't beat around the bush. And, if no one's around to hear you, say it anyway. Naming it seems to give it less power, and there is no shame in feeling that way.
c) Once you've declared it,
d) Go to sleep or do something for joy - or perhaps, both. Everything is better when we're more rested, and doing something for joy is refreshing.
If you are not the one feeling decision-powerless, and would like to be the superhero Captain Decision-Maker that swoops in to save the day, be very careful. Remember that with great power comes great responsibility. So, if the one feeling decision-powerless does not send out the bat signal (or the equivalent), it's not a good idea to barge in and try to save the day.
But, in my books you are a superhero if you assist someone to go through the steps above. That doesn't mean that you don't get a say in a decision, it just means you don't get the say. Never fear though, if you are the superhero type you will never be completely out of work - there are many situations in recovery where Captain Decision-Maker is not just wanted, but desperately needed. It's a fine line to walk, and a line with much trial and error for both parties. But stay the course, I believe that with understanding and a lot of practice, like Spider man, your "spidy senses" will kick in and guide you, and both the ones recovering and the ones doing the care giving will be better for it.
Happy deciding!
My amazingly intelligent friend Miss K.W (she's socially brilliant too), was the first to introduce me to the phrase "I'm feeling decision-powerless right now." I don't know if she coined the phrase or if it's a well-known (ish) colloquialism, but I bet she did coin it. It literally means what it says "decision-powerless" but it's so much more than that, too. Let's take a stab at the 5 W's...
What
Decision-Powerlessness is the feeling of a lack of power to make a decision. One would think it is the feeling of a lack of power to make a good decision, but it's not; it's any decision.
When
This state-of-being is apt to happen when one is overtired, overwhelmed, and/or overly emotional. It often happens when one is in copious amounts of pain, extremely fearful/fretful, and any other stressful situation that affects one's ability to think.
To Whom
I couldn't decide whether to put this topic in "relative relations" or in "patience patients," as I'm not sure who experiences decision powerlessness more often, or to a greater degree. I suppose it might also apply to medical professionals too - though one would hope much less often! But I digress... in the end, I've decided to put it in both categories, and I won't know until this is posted whether that will work (new blogger and all), but here's hoping.
Why
Because illness and recovery and trauma happen to people. Real people. And it's hard. Really hard.
How (to manage it)
How to manage it is a tough one to answer because oftentimes the solution requires making more decisions. but in my experience (as patient, caregiver, and professional), I'd say start here:
A) Call for Captain Decision-Maker.... oh, if it was only that easy! Okay, seriously,
a) Try to remove yourself from any additional stimuli (other than the usual stress of recovery), be it particularly stressful or not. For example, turn off the TV or send the neighbour home so there is less info to process.
b) Admit to yourself and any other relevant person in the situation that you are feeling decision-powerless. Actually use the phrase, don't beat around the bush. And, if no one's around to hear you, say it anyway. Naming it seems to give it less power, and there is no shame in feeling that way.
c) Once you've declared it,
- If it is not an urgent decision to make, wait to make it until you are feeling stronger.
- If it is urgent ask someone you trust to help make the decision with you.
- If it's a small thing with no time-sensitivity in the grand scheme of things (what movie to watch or what to eat), ask someone to make it for you. And yes, decision-powerlessness can even (well, often) apply to these types of situations too.
d) Go to sleep or do something for joy - or perhaps, both. Everything is better when we're more rested, and doing something for joy is refreshing.
If you are not the one feeling decision-powerless, and would like to be the superhero Captain Decision-Maker that swoops in to save the day, be very careful. Remember that with great power comes great responsibility. So, if the one feeling decision-powerless does not send out the bat signal (or the equivalent), it's not a good idea to barge in and try to save the day.
But, in my books you are a superhero if you assist someone to go through the steps above. That doesn't mean that you don't get a say in a decision, it just means you don't get the say. Never fear though, if you are the superhero type you will never be completely out of work - there are many situations in recovery where Captain Decision-Maker is not just wanted, but desperately needed. It's a fine line to walk, and a line with much trial and error for both parties. But stay the course, I believe that with understanding and a lot of practice, like Spider man, your "spidy senses" will kick in and guide you, and both the ones recovering and the ones doing the care giving will be better for it.
Happy deciding!
Friday, January 28, 2011
Tip #62 Patience Patients; I Am Only One, But...
Yesterday I wrote a (very long:)) post called Choosing Cheer; Your Energy, Your Choice. I wanted to help free people from feeling so overwhelmed while trying to maintain all they do and have done in life, but now must also do in the face of illness and its effects. I suggested that people work hard at trying to balance the process of recovery with the process of living a full, meaningful, good life. It's a tough job - a huge job - to get that perfect balance! It reminds me a bit of being a child and sitting on one end of the teeter-totter. Unless both sides were carefully balanced, the prize of having 2 people with their feet dangling in the air at both ends at the same time was not easy to attain. But it sure was great when we were able to get that balance!
I also know that the energy required to achieve that balance may be hard to find while you are in the recovery process. And, it is a big adjustment to work (aka summon up the energy) within limits that have not been there for our whole lives, but are very real in this phase of life. However, refusing to work within said limits doesn't get anyone very far, and not only hurts you but those you love that are walking this journey with you. Try to be patient in the process - the payoff is worth it. As I was contemplating this again last night, I remembered a poem I read when I was a child that has always stuck with me. I think it describes the ideal balance of life and recovery in a beautiful way. Happy feet-dangling!
I am only one,
but still I am one.
I cannot do everything,
but I can do something.
And, because I cannot do everything,
I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.
-Edward Everett Hale
Friday, January 21, 2011
Tip #402 Patience Patients; It's not about the ice cream
It's not about the ice cream? Okay, so I know it's an odd thing to say, but "it's not about the ice cream" is the phrase one of my very wise friends taught me, and to me, it describes an outburst of distress at something totally ridiculous. I'm calling it ridiculous because the reason for upset is clearly not something your loved one would typically get upset about, and certainly not something that would cause them to have a huge meltdown (like having no ice cream in the house). Having said that, I would really really encourage anyone witnessing such an event NOT to point out to the one in distress that they are being ridiculous. No really, that is not a good idea, don't attempt this at home! In truth, it's not ridiculous at all, it can just seem ridiculous because of the topic, and because said topic seems to come out of nowhere.
While it is possible that the caregiver will have this type of response, it is (in my opinion) the patient who may demonstrate this particular behaviour most commonly. I have been on both ends of this emotion, and neither one of them is fun, but I hope that whatever end you experience, that you can
a) look back and laugh at yourself, and
b) should it happen again, recognize it for what it is, and know that you're not crazy (well, at least, not losing your mind entirely). It's normal. And as to that, remember too that here are more people just like you. You're not alone, and you're experiencing something common that people in these kinds of situations most definitely experience too. Still, try to not make them regular events...
I know the ice cream part of this probably doesn't make all that much sense yet, so I'll give you an example. My "ice cream" was "pens" the first time it happened in this bout of illness. Yep, pens. Who took my pens? I can't get out of bed, and people keep walking away with my pens. When the phone rings, or the doctor comes, or I remember an item for a shopping list, I write it down. But writing it down is hard when you have no pens, and I seemed to find myself without pens quite a bit. Now, truth be told, I call the bed covers the "magic covers" because they have a persistent way of making things that I want and have been using disappear, so I was as big a culprit as everyone else! Still, if you're being irrational enough to feel like you're losing your mind over not having pens, then you are irrational enough to not take any responsibility for it. Things like the covers become entities in and of themselves at that point, and are a safe thing to be frustrated with!
So, in the throws of my meltdown about the pens, one of my wonderful caregivers walked straight up to me and said "you need a hug right now don't you?" I wasn't so sure, but then when she said "It won't be like this forever, " I realized that it wasn't about the pens. Generally speaking, it's not usually about the pens, the ice cream, or anything trivial. Are you ready for this? It's a big realization... it's not about something trivial, it's about being frustrated and/or impatient about the situation, and the length of time it is taking to resolve that situation. After all, no one wants to be sick, be debilitated permanently or even temporarily. No one wants to burden family, friends, or any other kind of caregiver. No one wants to have to ask for help to do anything you feel like you should be able to do yourself, but can't. No one wants to feel helpless. But more than that, I think the biggest thing for patients is that no one, no matter what, NO ONE wants to feel so out of control, And, severe illness, well, one of it's greatest achievements is it's ability to remove any sense of an individual having any control of his/her life.
With respect to caregivers, I think that the loss of control is also a factor that may contribute to such a meltdown, and fatigue is a likely culprit too. I also think that in such an instance it would be easy to feel unappreciated (I'm bringing you breakfast, lunch, supper, helping you eat, etc., and you are mad that I walk away with a pen?). I will try to address more caregiver feelings in situations like this in another post, but want to focus on giving patients patience with themselves, others around them, and entities like bed covers that seems to join in the fray:).
Wow, this is a long post - thanks to those of you who have gotten this far... we're almost there!
So, what do I recommend? If you are the person having the meltdown:
If you are a person with the melt-down-er:
While it is possible that the caregiver will have this type of response, it is (in my opinion) the patient who may demonstrate this particular behaviour most commonly. I have been on both ends of this emotion, and neither one of them is fun, but I hope that whatever end you experience, that you can
a) look back and laugh at yourself, and
b) should it happen again, recognize it for what it is, and know that you're not crazy (well, at least, not losing your mind entirely). It's normal. And as to that, remember too that here are more people just like you. You're not alone, and you're experiencing something common that people in these kinds of situations most definitely experience too. Still, try to not make them regular events...
I know the ice cream part of this probably doesn't make all that much sense yet, so I'll give you an example. My "ice cream" was "pens" the first time it happened in this bout of illness. Yep, pens. Who took my pens? I can't get out of bed, and people keep walking away with my pens. When the phone rings, or the doctor comes, or I remember an item for a shopping list, I write it down. But writing it down is hard when you have no pens, and I seemed to find myself without pens quite a bit. Now, truth be told, I call the bed covers the "magic covers" because they have a persistent way of making things that I want and have been using disappear, so I was as big a culprit as everyone else! Still, if you're being irrational enough to feel like you're losing your mind over not having pens, then you are irrational enough to not take any responsibility for it. Things like the covers become entities in and of themselves at that point, and are a safe thing to be frustrated with!
So, in the throws of my meltdown about the pens, one of my wonderful caregivers walked straight up to me and said "you need a hug right now don't you?" I wasn't so sure, but then when she said "It won't be like this forever, " I realized that it wasn't about the pens. Generally speaking, it's not usually about the pens, the ice cream, or anything trivial. Are you ready for this? It's a big realization... it's not about something trivial, it's about being frustrated and/or impatient about the situation, and the length of time it is taking to resolve that situation. After all, no one wants to be sick, be debilitated permanently or even temporarily. No one wants to burden family, friends, or any other kind of caregiver. No one wants to have to ask for help to do anything you feel like you should be able to do yourself, but can't. No one wants to feel helpless. But more than that, I think the biggest thing for patients is that no one, no matter what, NO ONE wants to feel so out of control, And, severe illness, well, one of it's greatest achievements is it's ability to remove any sense of an individual having any control of his/her life.
With respect to caregivers, I think that the loss of control is also a factor that may contribute to such a meltdown, and fatigue is a likely culprit too. I also think that in such an instance it would be easy to feel unappreciated (I'm bringing you breakfast, lunch, supper, helping you eat, etc., and you are mad that I walk away with a pen?). I will try to address more caregiver feelings in situations like this in another post, but want to focus on giving patients patience with themselves, others around them, and entities like bed covers that seems to join in the fray:).
Wow, this is a long post - thanks to those of you who have gotten this far... we're almost there!
So, what do I recommend? If you are the person having the meltdown:
- Try to recognize that it's not about the pens, and realize that it's okay to be frustrated that you feel the way you do.
- Recognizing the meltdown for what it is, try to laugh at yourself, and then allow yourself a constructive way of getting it out such as:
- journaling,
- talking to someone qualified to help,
- spending time doing something for joy,
- spending time with loved ones....
- whatever it is that will bring you comfort.
- In the absence of being able to do anything that makes you feel better in that moment, try to have enough patience to NOT take it out on your caregiver!
If you are a person with the melt-down-er:
- Don't for any reason tell the person they are being ridiculous. They're not. What they are experiencing is normal. Frustrating, but normal.
- Try to comfort said individual that it won't be this way forever (and it won't... even if it's a permanent condition, your coping skills will get better (providing you want them to), and so no, it won't be like this forever).
- Don't take it personally. If they are upset, it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with you.
- For heaven's sake, buy a jumbo box of pens, and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream! :P
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