Anna has returned home from Duke Hospital! She is laying low and doing her best to avoid all the nasty germs since her immune system is not strong. She is getting back to just living a normal life. She will return to her new apartment in Phoenix next week. She is in a friend’s wedding next weekend and then she will start her internship at Southwest Behavioral Health.
I asked her how she is doing with her diagnosis of chronic rejection. She said she is choosing not to think about it. There is nothing she can do to change it. Moping around about it sucks life out of her and makes the present very gloomy. She is living in the moment of what is rather than what could be. She spent some time crying about it and then wiped her tears and said, “OK.”
I’m sure those tears will crop back up now and then. She’ll feel them and then continue to move forward. That’s the healthiest way to deal with the harsh realities of life. She sets a fabulous model for all of us as we face our own challenges, disappointments, and pain. Feel them if they are real, let the tears fall, and then wipe our eyes and move on. Live in the now, not the ‘what could be’.
We have some answers about Anna. She has both acute and chronic rejection. Acute rejection is usually treatable. Anna has had this before. A few days of intense IV steroids have stopped it every time. Chronic rejection sometimes stops but the damage is irreversible. It causes scar tissue in the lungs. Lungs and scar-tissue don’t go very well together because scar tissue doesn’t expand like healthy lung tissue. As a result of the scarring, Anna’s lung functions have dropped to 62%.
Today, she started an IV treatment called rATG. It’s supposed to stop the acute rejection. I’m a bit confused about how or if this will help the chronic rejection. The rATG has some bad side-effects. Some people tolerate it just fine. Some end up with intense flu-like symptoms. Some have blood pressure issues and end up in the ICU. Some get PTLD. If you have followed Anna, you might recognize those four letters as the type of cancer she got. Side effects or complications are not one size fits all. Anna might be totally fine. At the moment she is in a Benadryl induced nap.
So here we are again staying in the here and now. I’m mad about the lost lung functions. I’m mad about the chronic rejection. I’m also sad about both. I stop there. I have to. I feel this heaviness in the center of my chest. It’s a ball of tears that just want to come pouring out. They will. I will let them, just not now. Right now Anna is staying upbeat and positive. She joked about how the last time she had Benadryl, she thought her hospital room was the portal to heaven and she called her brother and cousin to tell them they needed to get to her room or they would be left behind. So far, she’s not having that kind of fun!
I hear Dory sweetly reminding me, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming…” So that’s what we will do. Breathe and make the best of now. It’s New Year’s Eve. We must celebrate!
On Thursday I was casually enjoying coffee with a friend. My plan for the day was to take care of a few errands and then head up to Buffalo, WY to enjoy my Birthday and New
Year’s with family there. I got a text from my step-daughter that my granddaughter was super sick and it might be good to put our trip off by a day or two. Plans change. Within an hour, I got another call. This one was from a nurse breaking the news that my daughter, Anna needed to get on a plane and head to Duke Hospital ASAP. Anna had gone to the Dr. for a regular checkup. While there, they discovered her lung function had decreased significantly. After a conversation with her team at Duke it was determined she needed to be treated there. By 5:30p we were on a flight to Raleigh/Durham. After we arrived, Anna was immediately admitted to the hospital. We don’t know exactly what’s going on. The likely culprit is rejection, but we won’t know for sure for a few days.
When I first heard about this I just listened. My next step was to call my husband and let him know. As I talked to him the gravity of it all started to sink in and I started crying. I cried for Anna because she, her dad, stepmom, brother and sister were supposed to leave on Sunday for their first-ever cruise. Anna was extremely excited about it and to hear she couldn’t go left her crying so hard she couldn’t tell me, that’s why the nurse called me. I also cried because I feared the worst: irreversible rejection. That’s where I started sinking. Fearing the unknown.
While sitting on the airplane I realized I was future-tripping. My eyes felt hot and tired and I started crying again. Then it hit me, I have no idea what’s going on with Anna’s lungs. This could all be an over-reaction. It could be minor rejection. It could be devastating rejection where the only solution is another transplant. These are all “could-be’s” none are a reality any human is aware of at this point. So I stopped myself. I said I will deal with reality when I know it. For now, stay with what I know is true and real.
That is what I am doing: staying in the here and now. It’s very freeing. Every time the sneaky future-buggers start yipping about how this might happen or that might happen, I quickly quiet them down with, “There aren’t any answers right now.” It simply requires awareness and intentional thought. Simple, not always easy, but always freeing!
(This is a rewrite of a previous post from November 2014.)
It’s the holiday season! Are you ready to be around people you find challenging? You know, the ones who say things and suddenly you no longer feel very good about yourself. Perhaps drama trails around them like Pigpen’s dirt cloud. Approaching these situations with understanding and compassion can help.
To begin, recognize you are never very far from hurting others. This awareness generally helps with the next valuable action to deal with dysfunction: seeking to understand. Understanding where someone might be coming from, what he might be thinking or feeling, helps us develop compassion for him. Understanding does not require that you agree.
Understanding, and its closely linked cousin, compassion can dramatically change any dysfunctional system, at the very least for you. As you put on understanding and compassion, you will notice you are not so negatively affected by the dysfunction. You more easily notice the dysfunctional barbs, recognize them as a product of the other person’s pain, process the feeling, and realize, “This is not about me.” Once you have metabolized your own reaction, you can then shift your focus onto at least being kind to this person.
The further I walk down this journey of life, the more I realize life is just plain hard and people are messy. Somehow I thought life was easy, people were uncomplicated and almost everyone was nice. I remember the first time I realized people are complicated and mean, I was 23 and managing my dad’s hotel in Aspen, CO. A guest treated me horribly. It was because I was on the other side of the counter (like the other side of the tracks). The man talked to me as though I was sub-human. I was in disbelief and a tiny crack began to form in the protective layer of shellac I had poured all over the messiness of life so I wouldn’t be aware of it.
The shellac comes in the form of stories we create. We force everything that goes on around us into that story. At some point, though, the story begins to disintegrate and when it does, we melt into a puddle along with it. It’s healthy to melt. In that space, we are able to experience life as it really is instead of in some story we created. While the story might feel good, it doesn’t actually serve us well as adults. The story keeps us pouring lots and lots of shiny shellac over the pile of crap that exists in reality. It’s just polished poop.
When we take the shellac off, we can deal with the icky parts of ourselves and the world around us. We can be sad and hurt. We can grieve. We can be with others who embrace reality, too. And this is the place where healing happens: aware of our own issues, knowing others have issues and being vulnerable with each other. No more stories! No more polished poop!
Note: Sometimes when we let the shellac dissolve, it’s too much for us to bear and we feel as though we are falling apart, like the bottom has dropped out from beneath us and we’re in a free fall. If you are ever in a place like this, please seek out the help of a Mental Health Professional. You can also call the National Suicide Hotline just to talk with someone, whether you are suicidal or not: 800-273-8255
Just like you, I need to fill up my tanks. I need to enlist self care. Part of my self care is receiving encouragement and guidance from others. For the past few years I have been learning from Molly Mahar. She is a coach who offers a variety of online trainings. I appreciate her honest approach to life and tapping into all the amazing abilities we have. I could keep this to myself but I want to spread the word about Molly.
So often in our culture we hoard info and stuff for ourselves, fearful that if we share, someone might pass us on the ladder to success. I believe there’s lots of room on that ladder. We all have something to offer the world and I’m not going to stand in the way of another’s steps up the rungs. In fact, I’m going to help, even if it’s for someone who is farther ahead than I am or will pass me.
Oh sure! there’s a selfish part inside of me who wants to keep people down, but I don’t want to feed that part. That part is mean, self-centered and greedy. So I’m pushing past that and feeding the part that wants to embrace and share and love! There was a bit of bait from Molly: a contest for the ones who get the most people to sign up for her course. I’m more motivated by the desire to share Molly’s wisdom than winning a contest 🙂
I signed up for Molly’s Courage Council. If you’re interested in tackling your blocks to moving forward, take a look at Molly’s course. It starts September 11. Click here to find out more!
I was informed of an occurrence in a loved one’s life that sucked a bit of life out of me. At this point I will not be telling you the details. It’s not my story to tell. While I was alone with the new information, I started to cry. I cried for the person. The wave of tears left me for a moment and I began to think about my ownership in the situation. Years ago I had an affair. It was a conglomeration of the worst decisions I have ever made in my life. It hit me that while my loved one dealt with their own pain, I was oblivious to even the slightest changes in this person. I was so self absorbed at the time, so consumed with my own pride and selfishness, I missed a very pivotal time in history.
As another layer of the negative ripples of my affair surfaced, I felt deep pangs of regret and remorse. Tears flowed again followed by heaving sobs. It felt good to cry and purge the anger and disappointment. I was driving to Aspen to visit family and attend a Board meeting. While crying, I wondered if other travelers noticed I was crying. Instantly I “looked” at myself with an expression of “OMG! Are you kidding me?!” This is the very pride that tripped me up with my affair: I was being noticed and it felt good. Here I was crying about my selfish choices and thinking all about myself yet again! Ugh!
I am a God-believing person, so I took this to Him. I poured out my frustrations with this prideful, selfish side of me and begged for help to stop. Then I enlisted a useful thought-stopping technique:
- Each time I noticed myself making something all about me, I told myself to stop.
- I looked at the beauty all around me to get my mind off of me and on to something else.
- I audibly spoke a narrative of what I was seeing. You can say it in your head if people are around but it’s most effective if you say it aloud.
It helped. The focus on myself stopped. That time. Not too much longer, it happened again. Cracking up at this behavior, I said, “STOP!” and went through the process again. Now, every time I start that pride-filled thinking, I use the Stop Technique. It’s been several days and I haven’t needed to use it. I will again, I’m sure, but for now I seem to have reached a respite from the “all about me” thinking.
It’s important to understand the underlying issues that contribute to why I wondered if people were noticing I was crying. It’s an issue from my childhood (no surprise!). I was the fifth out of six children for most of my childhood. My parents were ultra busy running their hotel. I was not noticed. I was not special. I think there’s a careful balance necessary between letting our children know they are important and noticed by us without creating self absorbed children who think the world begins and ends because of them. Confident in who they are, not arrogant and entitled. I’m working on being confident, not arrogant or chastising myself (the opposite of arrogance and equally unhealthy). It’s a crazy pendulum swing I find myself on at times. I’m thankful techniques exist to ground myself back to truth and reality!
I’m taking on a new role as an adjunct professor for Dr. John Townsend’s Townsend Institute for Leadership and Counseling at Concordia University, Irvine CA. Initially I was thrilled about the opportunity to teach for his Master’s and Certificate programs in Counseling, Organizational Leadership and Executive Coaching. I went through the hiring process, check. I navigated setting up my email and access to the online portal, check. Perused the Online Blackboard and froze in my tracks with fear! I unsuccessfully attempted to navigate this completely unknown program. I couldn’t find the information I needed to tell me how to make sense of everything in front of me. I was supposed to create my own practice-course to prepare for using the program but I couldn’t even figure out step one. That was a few weeks ago. I logged off the system and ignored it. I considered resigning before I had even begun.
Recently, a thought entered my mind: I could call one of my friends who has already been teaching and likely knows how to use Blackboard. I could call the man listed as my contact person for help. I relaxed some as I realized all is not lost. I don’t have to jump ship before weighing anchor. Yesterday I logged back on to the system. I accidentally ended up finding the learning modules but quickly got myself lost again and couldn’t find them. Panic ensued. “I’ll never be able to do this. What am I thinking? My brain is getting too old for learning new things.” Defeat began to settle in again. Then a small yet courageous voice starting making itself heard in my mind, “You CAN do this. Your brain is NOT too old. Stay with what you know is true right now. This is hard, yes. It is new, yes. Remember you have a few life lines–the help person and your friends. Oh yes, that’s right. I can at least give this a try.”
Before calling my life lines I searched one more time. Low and behold, I found the Instruction Modules. They call it The Sandbox. I think of a sandbox as a fun place to learn. Up to this point the sandbox hasn’t been any fun. I had to find the sandbox. I did it the hard way, on my own. I could have asked for help. I just wanted to see what I could find on my own first before I asked and heard, “The title you are clicking on is the one you will use when you are ready to create your own practice course. The one you need is just below it.”
I like that I figured it out on my own. It took a bit more time and included more frustration but I did it and that feels good. I like that I was freaked out by this unknown world. I don’t want to stay only with the known. I need to keep my 51 year old brain learning new information or I will get stuck. Fear can do that to us. It can keep us stuck. What do we gain if we stay stuck? Maybe ease in some way at the moment but not down the road. By regularly challenging ourselves and stepping into our fears we keep our brain active by creating new neural pathways, we grow in our confidence and we develop more compassion for others.
It was this new fear that helped me connect more deeply with my clients and those near me who are facing their own fears. I get the fear. I feel it regularly. And I welcome it! I’ve read in several different books to do something everyday that scares me. Something that is bigger than me, something new. Not to torture myself but to stretch and grow my abilities.
Come and join me in the sandbox. You might have to find it first but once you do, it will feel so good to be here.
I frequently talk about Viktor Frankl with my clients. He survived Nazi concentration camps from 1942-1945. His freedom came when his camp was liberated at the end of World War II. A Psychiatrist, he was intrigued by the motivations and actions of himself, fellow prisoners and guards in this unplanned and unwanted research experiment. After the war, he turned his discovery of the power human beings possess to survive horrific experiences into a therapeutic method: Logotherapy.
In the most unlikely of places, Dr. Frankl made a decision to be the best prisoner he could be. He didn’t execute this perfectly as he admits in his book, Man’s Search for Meaning but his intention gave him purpose and the will to survive. He reasoned if he was able to do this in a concentration camp, then anyone can. As human beings, we have the ability to choose our thoughts, words, actions and attitudes.
My circumstances are not even remotely as challenging as Dr. Frankl’s. Still, I recognize I have the same choices. In simple trivial situations like driving behind a slow vehicle I can get upset about it or relax, recognizing I have no power over the driver. I only have power over myself. I know that unhealthy, illegal and unwise decisions will have a negative impact on me and potentially others so I choose to breathe, be calm, and recognize that my impatience is likely my own responsibility for not leaving enough time for the inevitable slow driver, accident or heavy traffic.
The same goes for the more painful situations in my life. It’s important to note, this doesn’t mean I pretend to be fine. Oh, no! We must be real about the emotions we have in all situations whether trivial or intense. Acknowledge your emotions, understand why you feel what you do, validate your emotions then have a conversation with yourself about what to do. I go into this process in greater length here and here.
Remember, you have the power to decide what you think, feel, say and do in all situations. No one decides that for you.