One of the greatest events of the 20th century.....

Another Planet

Monday I took my mother to the hospital. If old age is a different country, then hospitals are a different planet. I have no complaints about Mother's care. People have been kind and gentle to her, but an old sick person is an old sick person. And an old sick person becomes a frustration to doctors and nurses because they really don't get well. At best, they get somewhat better. Doctors like dramatic recoveries. I guess we all do.

I was really gloomed out yesterday morning to see her confused and in such pain that even the slightest movement caused her distress. Then there was the somber business of obtaining a medical power of attorney and setting up do-not-resuscitate provisions. All of these wishes are part of her living will, but I gather a living will and medical power of attorney are not exactly the same thing. It seems there are different rules on this new planet. Curiously we both felt relieved when the papers were signed. I suspect we felt some tiny bit of control in a situation where we have so very little.

The physical therapist gave her ultra-sound and deep heat treatments yesterday which provided some much needed relief. I had to ask myself why this had not been tried before. That, however, is a pointless question. Whatever eases her pain now, even by a little, is welcome. By evening, she was loopy from the pain pills but resting comfortably.

This planet has its unique language. I am not fluent in it but I can get by, which is a help. If you speak their language, you are accorded more respect. Here, there are special uniforms, rituals, customs and a caste system. The newcomer is expected to absorb all of this quickly. Old sick people don't adapt well nor do they learn new rules easily. Mother is still learning how to press the call button to summon a nurse.

There are many other planets: prisons, schools, some corporations, and the military. After visiting Mother, I had to run out to our local big box emporium where I met a former patient of mine. He always had some melodramatic grand crisis occurring in his life and then, it was no different, as he offered up a brief summary of his current one. Actually, he lives on his very own planet and the sun really does revolve around him. He is very funny, so I truly enjoyed a brief excursion into his orbit. I left him chuckling. I am glad to be in my own world however strange it may be at some times and grateful that my interplanetary travels are only visits. But I do wonder how Pluto is feeling these days?

Another Country

Experiencing the realities of my mother's extreme old age really has been like entering a foreign country. Mary Pipher's book on aging is aptly named. The world of the very old coexists side by side with the regular world of work, school, family and home responsibilities. It is, however, for the most part a hidden world kept secret from most of us on a day to day basis. The psychoanalysts know that death, sex and bathroom duties all are linked at the unconscious level. Huh? Yes, because they are all hidden activities that tend to be ungainly,messy and rarely discussed in polite company.

Many days I really wonder if all her years of careful diet (low sugar, low fat, low salt etc.) have been such a great trade-off. She's lived to a ripe old age to be sure, but her bone structure is weakening, her brain is fuzzy, her eyesight is fading and her heart isn't pumping effectively. Then there's the emotional toll of loneliness from outliving so many people, of lost freedom when you can no longer drive or even walk without assistance, and rage at not being the person you once were. The only plus to senility is you can't remember your former self.

Is it all bad? Some days the Eskimo ice floe solution to old age seems quite sensible, but then I recoil in horror. This is my mother I am talking about! What transpires is a psychic tug of war. Part of me thinks that her death would not be such a bad thing. The other part of me scolds "How could you think such a thing?" I have been through this territory with patients many times. What I am bumping into is old primitive rage from frustrated needs when I was teeny-tiny. No doubt my dear old mother told little me that I couldn't eat a cookie one time because it was too close to dinner. Little me was furious and thought "I wish you were dead!" Now, fast forward to today and the old gal is fading pretty fast. Who is responsible for her inexorable descent towards the grave? Why me, of course! Little me's curse is now coming to pass. It's a tough interior battle, because my mother at one time was so essential for my very survival. Little me is terrified. Big me knows this is the way of life......Sigh!

[Elton John breaks into "The Circle of Life" while a beautiful sunset appears on the horizon]

Light a candle

One Catholic tradition that I have always loved is lighting candles. I used to have silly thoughts that you had to be Catholic to light a candle or you had to have money. As a non-Catholic, I used to light and run before anyone caught me and questioned my denominational identity. In reality anyone is as welcome to light a candle as to say a prayer in a vacant pew. Slipping a few coins in the box just helps to pay for candles and matches. I'm sure any surplus goes to a good cause.

I am frequently moved by the sight of a stand of lit votive lamps, each candle representing the heartfelt prayer of someone usually unknown to me. What are those prayers for? Are they for healing, to conceive a child, for a wayward child, to find a spouse, for a difficult spouse, to find a new job, for discernment, for a safe trip, for wisdom, for strength, for patience or to be able to forgive? It is a poignant reminder that everyone struggles with something no matter what they look like from the outside.

The Path

I have come to a place where there is no road.
-Iris Murdoch

Pilgrim, there is no path.
The path is made by walking
- source unknown

Stand right there at the place
Where there is no place to stand.
-Buddhist tradition

Have faith, way will open
-Quaker saying

He is able
-Christian tradition

This is the beta version and this is a gripe

So far this has been quite simple to use and lots faster. Kudos to the good folks at Blogger. It should be fun to explore some of the new features. I already added some links which is a breeze to do now.

I should pull up my rotten tomato picture and toss it toward the state capitol which has no capital to pay its bills at present. Fairfield Community Hospital is owed $2.8 million dollars by the state. A local pharmacy closed its doors last week after some 80 years in business because the state was not reimbursing them. They could float for a while by dipping into savings, but no longer. They were bought by CVS. And our governor, who is running for re-election, has just foisted an even more expansive healthcare program onto the backs of healthcare providers which it can't fund anymore than it is funding existing programs. What a farce and what a tragedy for rural hospitals, physicians and pharmacists.

New hope for a brighter future

Blogger is introducing a new beta version which I hope to try out soon. Can't use it yet because blogs will get rolled over gradually. I have been puzzled by the current system because I have noticed my most recent entries have not been posted on my home page. They can be accessed by RSS feed or from the August archives, but not directly if my gemother.blogspot.com address is used. I've reloaded the entire blog several times to no avail. The new version has an updated spell checker. The current one is useless and another reason I'd been considering switching to a new home for my blog. I'll give the new improved Blogger a chance. I hope the update doesn't eat bookmarks!

Otherwise things are good. I had a hard but productive week at work. Two old patients have circled back and it was good to see them again. Another patient who rotates between my training analyst and me looks as if he'll be seeing me exclusively. This is actually very good, not because I'm such a brilliant analyst or I charge less, but because he's becoming comfortable with a woman for the first time in his life.

Yesterday a female patient (who also sees my training analyst) brought in a wonderful dream. If you watch the movie Proof, you'll see her life. In her dream, she was on a Martian space ship as it flies over Phoenix. She voluntariy leaves the spaceship and lands in Phoenix where she starts to climb Squaw Peak. The interpretation by training analyst was that she was giving up her identification with her brilliant insane father (alien) and landing in Phoenix (rising from ashes), which was the home base of Milton Erickson (training analyst's mentor). I focused on climbing Squaw Peak, which I suggested was the strengthening of her femimine identity. She piped in that Men are from Mars so perhaps she must be leaving behind her masculinity. Her Mom was a very angry unhappy woman who did not provide an adequate feminine model for her. Dr. Erickson frequently ordered patients to climb Squaw Peak to gain a new perspective, to see life from a new point of view. A nifty dream whichever way one looks at it.

Letters from Dougie

A few years ago the mother of one of my patients needed extensive surgery and she would be unble to bring her daughter to see me for at least 8 weeks. I was not pleased about that long an interruption of treatment as this had been a difficult course. Mom's surgery was essential, so my dilemma was what to do about the kid. How could I keep up some type of contact? Phone appointments work with adults but this kid isn't particularly verbal. I pondered the situation and then I remembered something that Milton Erickson did in similar situations. Dr. Erickson's beagle Roger wrote letters to children he'd treated and on occasion wrote letters to the Erickson children. When Roger died, letters continued to arrive from ghost Roger. Thus the Dougie letters were born.

Now to look at Dougie, he may appear to be a dull-witted but congenial pooch; however he is also a prolific writer. The same girl needed surgery on both of her feet this summer. She had the second operation week before last, so Dougie wrote her a letter. I just found out that Dougie was the only one to send her get well wishes. In the latest letter to her, Dougie touched on anger, blaming of others and lying. A Dougie letter to an adolescent boy, whose Mom was trying to emasculate him, warned him about the dangers of cats, an animal with a strong unconcsious feminine association. The goal was promote a stronger masculine identification.

Son read one of Dougie's letters and thought it was sophomoric. How can that be?? The delicious part is that nice little directives can be slipped into these rather silly letters about fleas, rolling in the mud and other doggie adventures of living with the old man and the old lady.

Close but no cigar

A few weeks back I enthused over "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" which I finished reading a couple nights ago. My professional training has taken any romance out of insanity so the reading of this book became less and less enjoyable to me as the main character descended into madness. I don't buy the premise that to be true to his beliefs he would have to be found insane. He was committed because he melted down and couldn't function. Throughout the book, I wished I could have heard his wife's side of the story. There is nothing noble about losing your grip on reality. It is sad, dreary and monotonous.

Another highly touted book which has been getting much attention by headshrinkers is Jeffrey Schwartz's "The Mind and the Brain". Our group's newly minted Phd, whom I refer to as Mecte (my esteemed colleague to the east), commented that this was almost a good book. I agree.The review of research demonstrating the brain's ability to restructure and rewire itself is really nifty. The quazi-spirituality that he attempts to tie into all this comes across just plain flakey. It would appear that the definitive book on the subject is still to be written. Actually it's still being researched ; however, I do think the old computer model of the brain is fading fast and a new more fluid and dynamic model will replace it.

TBA:
I have just started "Stumbling on Happiness" by Daniel Gilbert. I've finally figured out how to do links so I'm having fun today...my happiness de jour. Anyway Gilbert is not telling the reader how to be happy but he talks about what happiness is and what it is not. So far it's been an interesting read and he is a clever witty writer. If it's really good, an eventual disappointment or I give up on it entirely, there may be more to say later.

Speaking of happiness, my favorite song of the week is from the album "The Little Willies".The song is "Lou Reed" and it's about cow tipping. Yes, the official sport of south Richland County. This slighty tipsy song makes me happy when I hear it. My favorite lines goes:
"I thought he was a vegetarian"
"He was just tipping them, not eating them"
Oh well, I've always been easily amused, but I'm glad that Norah Jones and company wrote and recorded that song. The rest of the CD is lots of fun too...easy to listen to while fixing dinner or running around town.

Odds & Ends

-I received copy of this delightful essay this morning and I'm passing it on for those who may have missed it.

- I will make an addendum to my gratitude blog entry in regards to the foiled terrorist plans to blow up US bound planes. It so happens that the day the plot was rumored to happen was August 16, the date my youngest and her Mr. Wonderful are flying from New York to Madrid. Not that they would have been in any danger but it might have been a frightening, confused day for us...planes grounded or diverted to who knows where. And even more gratitude for all who stopped this disaster

-Tomorrow evening Senator Barak Obama will be holding a question-answer session at our little local college. Never do I recall any US Senator venturing this far south in our fair state and miracles of miracles, it's not even an election year. Even my conservative husband wants to go with me. A friend showed him an article on Obama from the Wall Street Journal which impressed him favorably. He, as I, like Obama's determination to end the silly partisan name-calling which stops cold any possible dialog.

-Ted Kaczynski's cabin is now up for sale on eBay. What can be said other than morbid sensationalism sells. It now seems that poor Ted's brain was scrambled by top secret psychological experiments done by Dr. Henry Murray, of the Thematic Apperception Test fame, at Harvard. One wonders how many others were damaged to a less dramatic extent. And Ted's insanity like that of John Nash (A Beautiful Mind) only reinforces the common misperception that highly intelligent people are mentally unstable.

-Firefox's latest update was nearly the subject of a "my list of gripes" blog rant. The automatic update deleted all my bookmarks and RSS feeds. And the search toolbar was unusable. I was furious. I did a system restore but Windows XP wouldn't restore the earlier version of Firefox. Microsoft was telling me "Hahaha! That's what you get for using Firefox unstead of our wonderful Internet Explorer". Firefox's bug reporting site, Bugzilla, was full of complaints. I was never able to restore the lost bookmarks, but after several exchanges with tech support, a link was sent to me which instructed me how to activate the search toolbar. All is well, but Firefox normally is free of this sort of blundering which is exactly why I switched from IE in the first place. But I thought better of a lenghty "list of gripes" since the world is full of gripers and I don't want become another. This mini-gripe will suffice.

Guessing at normal

Yesterday I encountered a difficulty common to people who were raised in disturbed families. When Mom and Dad are overwhelmed by the demands of life, their child not infrequently gets parked in front of the TV for long hours. Kids may also seek asylum on the computer, playing video games, in movies or books. For the TV kid the Waltons, Huxtables, Ingalls or Cleavers become their adopted fantasy family. Their TV family shows them an idealized way a family functions and those images of a "normal" family get mentally filed away. The kid knows they don't want to replicate what they see Mom and Dad doing, and amazingly many of them succeed in avoiding their parent's mistakes. But what to do instead? If your family of origin modeled insanity, how does one know what constitutes a healthy family, a loving relationship or a decent life?

The woman I saw yesterday unconsiously drew upon her TV fantasy family, the Ingalls from The Little House on the Prairie series; however real husbands can't compete with ever-wise Pa Ingalls nor are real kids as precociously cute or adorably naughty as TV kids. When today's reality crashes up against her old fantasy, the chronic frustration from her early unmet dependency needs gets replayed and revived within her current family.

The complaint yesterday was her anger over the times their family dinner was interrupted by long business calls to her husband. She worked hard to make a nice dinner and all too frequently, she'd sit fuming as her husband's dinner grew cold while he'd conduct business over the phone. Now Pa Ingalls never would have acted like that or if he did, he'd apologize later to Ma. This woman's mother worked nights so pleasant family dinners were largely missing from her childhood. What she didn't see was that her husband is self-employed and has built a successful business amidst very stiff competition. If he doesn't take a call from a customer, he might lose out to another firm. She admitted he never objected to her and the kids going ahead and eating. So the solution was to keep a plate warm for him if the call went on too long. It was suggested that she use this opportunity to teach her kids saying something along the lines of "This is why your Dad is so respected in his field. He always goes the extra mile." I recall seeing a T-shirt once that read "Normal is a setting on the dryer". I like that.

Gratitude

Today is a day that I once again realized how richly blessed I am. So here's my list of things and people for which I am grateful...in no particular order..just where my mind started wandering

1 Youngest daughter's 25th birthday. What a joy she's been to her dear old mother.
2. Youngest daughter is communicating much more frequently these days with the old folks at home. Yay!
3. Oldest daughter who brings so much fun, beauty and random silliness into my life. I can send her goofy gifts and she usually likes them. At least she's polite about my efforts and doesn't roll her eyes.
3.5 Oldest daughter's beautiful singing and kind heart which often bring tears to her mother's eyes.
4. Son, my firstborn, who has a clever sarcastic wit, a generous spirit, and the ability to fix almost anything.
4.5 Son who brings home the local gossip from his fellow firefighters and teaches me about the working man.
5. Husband whose smooches still make me smile after 34 years and who has supported me materially and with encouragement as I've ventured into my post-childrearing career.
5.5 And hasn't complained too much when my earnings bumped up our debt to the IRS and the state treasury
6. My friend, mentor and training analyst who has made this career possible which is about as high a compliment as I've ever received.
7. My dog who is so happy to see me when I've been gone that he follows me from room to room wiggling and snorting in joy that I'm finally home.
8. My fat leather chair and ottoman. There is no nicer spot to read or play on the 'puter.
9. The woods where I can have a private quiet walk alone with my thoughts and the critters.
10. My oldest friend Sudie who was just ordained a deacon in the Episcopal Church. At least one good thing has happened recently in that denomination.
11. iTunes and my iPod. Oh how I love to browse that site and explore all sorts of music that I would never find otherwise.
12 Amazon and other on-line bookdealers. What a boon to a voracious reader in a teeny tiny town a long ways from a decent bookstore.
13. And the joy when I open another delivery from the above book sellers.
14. Hot fresh coffee first thing in the morning.
15 Cold iced tea with fresh lemon on a summer afternoon.
16 Hot Tazo Calm tea with a snickerdoodle
17 Popcorn
18 Netflix..like #12 for movies. Sure beats our sad Blockbuster.
19 Squirrels..they make me smile.
20 My body with whom I am finally making friends. It is strong and healthy and can do pretty much what I need it to do.
21 On-line news services and newspapers where I can read what I want when I want and don't have to listen to the drivel ,teasers, and fluff that the networks call news reporting these days.
22. All my children are self-supporting, not in jail, and in good relationships.
23. And in excellent health.
24. Crossword puzzles, on-line Trivia contests and Snood Towers
25 My Teva mush flip-flops...pure comfort
26 Aleve and Norflex when my body objects to something I did.
27 Golden Retrievers
28 Good smelling potions from Bath&Body works, Body Shop, Kiehls or CO Bigelow
29 The Geico TV ad with James Brown
30 Zits, Foxtrot, Non Sequitur, Pickles and Doonesbury
32 My sister who sends me great books and understands like no one else what it was like growing up Evans.
33 My brother and my youngest brother-in-law who are good people to call on in a crisis.
34 My Mother who is teaching me about old age
35 My sweet little Jeep which is fun to drive, dependable and has a moon roof to open on nice summer days.
36 Pretty silk scarves to perk up the boring business suits I have to wear to work. My newest came from the Brooklyn Botanical Garden gift shop.
37 My magnet collection which reminds me of all the neat places me and my loved ones have been like the new one of red cherries from Door County.
38 The road to my house in now paved.
38.5 The new water well which gives us delicious water in adbundance
38.75 A very capable and efficient water heater
39 A short commute to work
40 Living in a safe place with few crazies, fanatics or dangerous people
41 My glasses
42 Audiobooks and Podcasts for long drives
43 Air conditioning
44 The satisfaction of watching someone who came into my office tense and unhappy leave at the hour's end relaxed and smiling.
45 Shaking hands with someone who has little human contact
45 Hearing laughter from someone who hasn't laughed in years, even decades.
46 Hearing the distinctive "Hello", "Hiya Ma" or "Hey" when I pick up the phone.
47 Spell checkers (alas not working here at Blogger.com)
48 Caller ID
49 The Bible, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Goethe, Shakespeare and Milton Erickson
50 Our neighbor, friend and automechanic par excellance. God bless him!
51 Our creator who is still in business, working through His people 24/7
51.5 Doctors without Borders, Mercy Corps, International Rescue Committee, Habitat for Humanity etc etc etc who inspire me in this world of cruel warlords, power hungry dictators, unbridled corporate greed and people who think blowing up themselves and others is God's will.
52 The people who financially support and work for the above groups. Blessed are the peacemakers.
53 Freshly ironed real cotton hankies
54 Owl conversations
55 Little kids who remind me to keep it simple and to enjoy the here and now
55.5 Larry the cable guy
55.75 Jon Stewart
56 Emails, blogs and live journals to keep in touch
57 My fast and capable hairdresser
58 Massage therapists..they have a special place in heaven
59 My cleaning lady..she comes today. Yay!

Any additions??

Fogging

At my recent workshop I was introduced to the term "fogging" which is a technique used in assertiveness training. Little girls of the 1950s and 1960s were not taught to be assertive or how to handle manipulative people. We were taught not to talk back and to mind. Actually some believe that a manipulative person is actually a non-assertive person. My own thinking is they have learned that's how to get what they want.

Anyway the basic technique is very simple. When one is attacked, the response is a vague non-response instead of trying to defend directly against the barb. For example, a supervisor calls an underling on the carpet saying "Your behavior is so unprofessional. " The accused fogs " Some people might say that." Fogging diffuses the zinger and makes it instantly ineffective. It acknowledges the attacker's right to form an opinion, but at the same time it does not accept the validity of that opinion Underneath, the fogger is implying, but never voicing "so what". I am reminded of Milton Erickson's story. A patient was furious at Erickson and started to call him every name in the book. He called Erickson a quack, insulted his wife, criticized the decor of his office and finished his rant by saying that the tie Erickson was wearing was the ugliest tie he'd ever seen. Without missing a beat Erickson replied "You should see my brother."