Resilience

re·sil·ience 

/rəˈzilyəns/

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noun

1. 1.

   the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.

   "the often remarkable resilience of so many British institutions"
2. 2.

   the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity.

   "nylon is excellent in wearability and resilience

     I recently re-read a post from Mindshift entitled "How to Help Teenage Girls Reframe Anxiety and Strengthen Resilience". It is a very valuable read which was passed on to me by another mother. With anxiety and depression being diagnosed in so much of our population, is it any wonder that our sons and daughters are suffering with these spirit crushing disorders. As I have noted in the past, I too have experienced dysthymia or chronic low-grade depression since my teenage years with depression hitting me in my late thirties. This occurred after a keenly felt pregnancy loss. And although we talk about these things more than we used to, the stigma of mental health issues remains. I hesitate to write these words even though I must.

     We humans do not deal well with loss and change yet they are a crucial part of the necessary and unrelenting rhythm of daily life. Teenagers' brains are not yet fully developed and therefore are extremely vulnerable to emotional extremes. Add to that the full on, unending assault of social media into every crack and crevice of our already stressed out lives and you have a recipe for disaster. Of course some losses are comparatively small; a failed exam, a friendship gone wrong, an unexpected lay off make life hard. Still more difficult losses like the divorce of parents, a pet death or moving out of town are not given sufficient time to be processed. We rush through grief like we rush through life. Healing is ignored and significant losses are then overwhelming and complicated.

     The recent suicide attempt of a young friend makes me weep with remorse. Is there something I could have done to offer support? How do we connect with others when we are pushed to isolation by pandemic guidelines? How do we help each other right now? These questions will haunt me as the answers are largely unknown. All we can do, when we get the chance, is to be present and to listen. And then listen some more. I hope that we can all find ourselves to be resilient. I pray that we can help each other find hope.

Sleep

      Aaahhh sleep...sometimes there are no words. As a senior, I value sleep in a way that I have not since the birth of our daughters approximately twenty years ago. Sometimes it comes, sometimes not, but I always appreciate sleep when it finds me. Sleep is seriously underrated and the lack of it is a real problem for many folks. My aging father has an awful issue getting enough sleep and though certain pills make it possible, his doctor is hesitant to re-prescribe. Our younger daughter also has a terrible time achieving a full night of restful, uninterrupted sleep much to the detriment of her mood and energy level. 

    Apparently about ten percent of the Canadian population suffer from chronic insomnia while over twenty percent experience occasional bouts of sleeplessness. It's true that a lack of sleep can shorten your life span due to the significant health issues poor sleep exacerbates. Eight hours of sleep a night is recommended; many of us try to survive on five.

     Having a warm, clean and comfortable bed is something that most of us take for granted. It is a necessary element to healthy rest. It isn't everything though. Separating ourselves from our electronic devices is crucial to the onset and maintenance of a good night. A darkened room, warm milk, a hot bath --- all of these can help with a restful night. I know that I need to read before I can sleep; reading clears my mind and makes sleep possible. 

     Once again our sleep will be negatively affected by Daylight Saving Time this weekend and I am ready to stop remembering whether I need to "spring forward" or "fall back". As the clock changer in my house I would be happy to let that chore go! What do you think? In the meantime, if you can, sleep well!

Hospital 2

      An abscessed tooth sent me to the emergency department of our local hospital at four o'clock yesterday morning. Other than for a COVID test, I had not been to the hospital in a while and I was amazed at how quiet it was there. After a brief COVID screening, registration and triage intake I was sent to a long narrow hallway with about two dozen chairs in it. Every other chair was tagged as being unavailable due to social distancing and so I sat down and waited all alone for a couple of hours. No one joined me and the silence was broken only by the squishy sound of a nurse's rubber sole shoes in another room and the solo wanderings of the hospital security guard. It was lonely.

     The staff at the hospital were wonderful though and I appreciated the care and concern of all of them from triage to registration to emergency; they were unfailingly courteous, gentle and professional. When I was called from the waiting room, there were many other folks already in there as it turned out: an elderly lady who had fallen brought in by ambulance, a loud man who kept asking to go to the bathroom every few minutes, an older man in a wheelchair with swollen plastic wrapped feet who seemed to be a regular and others. All were seen to as kindly and considerately as I was.

     But I did have to wait and so I had time to inspect the photos of the hospital's beginnings. We were both born in the fifties, this hospital and I. I enjoyed the photos of the auxiliary ladies and their stylish hats, shovels in hand breaking ground for the predecessor of this building that I was now in, receiving care. And as I caught a glimpse of my tired swollen face and graying hair in the glass of the photos, I reflected on all that had passed in those sixty odd years. What of all the folks that had come and sat in these chairs as my family and I had after bone breaks, seizures or accidents over the years? My husband and I had brought home two babies from this very hospital and lost one more here too. My husband's beloved mother died here not so very long ago. Our family is not the only one to have experienced so much here: joy, grief, pain, relief--- all of it. 

     A hospital may seem like a giant machine sometimes, cold, brittle and inhuman. But like other large buildings, schools, churches, libraries and offices, it is the people inside a building who give it its essence. The humans in my hospital were gentle and caring, funny and warm. And so I say thank you!

Recycle

     We have all gotten used to recycling at this point. Some dinosaurs like my husband still put stuff in the wrong bin but we always seem to catch it and make it right. Our older daughter deals with the garbage and recycling as part of her chores at home and she does a great job. In the past she's accumulated bottles and cans through friends and family and she and I have sorted them, brought them in and she has received the cash.             

     Since we moved we connected with some of our neighbours through the neighbourhood's Facebook page and discovered that there were folks who were happy to let our daughter bring their bottles and cans to the recycling depot. They understand how hard it is for a disabled person to make money and though our daughter is usually employed she will never make the amount of money that most of us take for granted. Typically disabled people make minimum wage and if they are fortunate enough to have a job, they often work only part-time. During a COVID layoff this little job has been a life-saver, not only for the cash that it brought in but more importantly for the connections our elder daughter made in the neighbourhood and the sense of purpose it gave her. 

     The recycling depot now offers a service whereby they sort and count the bottles and cans and credit the individual with the appropriate amount. I for one, really appreciate this as I am allergic to stinging insects and the wasps that used to hang around us at the depot as we sorted made it a very stressful activity. Anyway, suffice it to say that we are big fans of the Return-it Express program and would recommend it to anyone. Our daughter has made a few more friends in the neighbourhood, a little pocket money and the feeling that she is doing a good thing. You can't put a price on that! 

Breakthrough

    

     For three and a half years our older daughter was seizure free. During that time she got used to a certain level of independence that seems usual for most young adults. She got to go places with friends, went on dates and was even able to be home on her own. Since the breakthrough seizures that occurred in July and again in December we are back to our old ways: hypervigilance, unlocked doors and so many other precautions.           

     Breakthrough seizures are those that break through the anti-epileptic medications. Sometimes they occur because meds are skipped or because of provoking factors such as emotional stress, sleep deprivation, alcohol or other recreational drugs and TV or video games according to the NCBI.  In our case, last year's seizures happened on the eve of our daughter's twenty-first birthday and on Boxing Day morning. Over the years our daughter's seizures have often occurred at times of excitement or when daily routines are changed, for example at times of celebration or when travelling. 

     There are different schools of thought on whether medications should be adjusted after a breakthrough seizure but of course as parents, we look to the medical expertise of others to know what to do. We dislike the fact of pharmaceuticals being a daily part of our daughter's life but in the case of epilepsy, they are a life saver. Our daughter spent most of her high school years trying different medications at different doses to find that level where both types of her seizures would be controlled and the side effects were bearable. One medication that she took for a while made her terribly depressed. And while depression is common in teens with Nonverbal Learning Disorder and epilepsy, this medication was a mistake for our daughter. Fortunately her pediatric neurologist was responsive to emails and we quickly got her off that one and on to something else.

     We had hoped that anti-epileptic drugs or AEDs might be a temporary measure for our daughter. More and more they are looking like a permanent aspect of her life. They keep her mostly seizure free and mostly herself. We all can live with that!

     

Birds

     One of the results of COVID-19 for many of us is being home a lot more than is usual. This can be a blessing or a curse depending on who you are and what you enjoy. Currently popular advice tells us that now is a good time to look around, breathe deeply and try to connect with our surroundings, especially outside if possible. One of the simple acts that I have found enjoyable is feeding the birds. Besides my favourite chickadees there are sparrows, juncos, finches, towhees, and even the occasional jay--- although they are usually looking for peanuts and not black oil sunflower seeds. The movement around my various feeders is always changing and very satisfying, at least to me. One extra special sighting is the Anna's Hummingbird which stays here throughout the winter. I make their sugary mixture a little less dilute in the cold months to ensure that it won't freeze and the hummingbirds will get enough of what they need. The sight of a male hummingbird with his magnificent though tiny red face against the backdrop of a white-washed wintery day fills me with hope: hope that spring is coming, that life goes on, that even small lives can be impacted by our care and concern. I am not the only one who has felt that hope and birds were interconnected as this poem written in 1891 by Emily Dickinson demonstrates:

"Hope" is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - 

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird 

That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea-

Yet - never- in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

Emily Dickinson

Anna's Hummingbird---    Photo Credit: Dr. Manfred Kusch

Virus 3

     I just had the test for COVID-19.  And exactly as the nurse had described it, the swab was shoved so far up my nose that my eyes watered. It was similar in discomfort to jumping into deep water unprepared, with water strongly forcing itself up the nose, a sensation that I have experienced in the past and one which made me an avid poolside reader but never really much of a swimmer.
     The ease with which I was able to drive to our local hospital, park, give the necessary information from the safety of my car and then be brought inside to have the test was amazing to me. I was thoroughly impressed even as I was feeling lousy and anxious. I was processed by a team of cheerful, friendly and competent nurses who really seemed to enjoy their work despite the fact that they are working at the very front of the front lines. As busy as they were, I was in and out in fifteen minutes and just have to self isolate for the next couple of day until the results are known. Given that I am coughing, sneezing and far from good company, this should not be hard. The sheet of paper that I was offered after the test gave a lot of good information regarding next steps. Chief among them is staying home, washing hands and wearing a mask, also monitoring health, staying separate from others and cleaning surfaces frequently.
     The only thing that could possibly make it a better experience would be to get the result that I am confident of in a shorter period of time. Same day results would be great and far less of an inconvenience. But convenience is not what we are looking for now. A negative result would be more than enough.