Throwing away the cookie cutter

One oft-heard tenet of my training is to go with the patient. When working with kids, it means that they chose the activity and direct the play. I, in turn, am a facilitator, an observer and when called upon, a participant in the fantasy world that the child creates. Children's play is often a surprisingly literal enactment of their world. What does their play tell me about their life? Is the play lifeless or repetitive, or out-of-control, or unstable, or full of painful events or hidden perils?

Recently at the beginning of the hour, a woman announced that she was unable to sit down that day. She had to have the door open and the radio turned off. In fact, if she had her druthers, she'd be outside walking. It was a lovely unseasonably warm day, so out we went. She thought she'd only need to walk around the block. I told her about a terrified little girl that had to be walked around the block three, sometimes four times, before she wound down enough to play inside. That day we ended up walking for 50 minutes. Over and over she apologized because she thought her problem was so silly. I corrected her because her difficulties were keeping her from enjoying her life and doing the things she had previously done with no difficulty. In fact, her life sounded pretty miserable to me.

Someone driving by might think we were just two ladies out for a stroll; however she was telling me about her world; a world where she was afraid to be alone, afraid to ride in the backseat of a car, afraid to drive by herself, afraid of being in a room with too few windows, and in constant fear of something happening to a member of her family. Her world is a prison in which she is rarely at peace. We discussed nutrition, the pros and cons of psychotropic medications (she has a cabinet full of them, most unopened), and small steps she might make to gain a bit of control over her life. Mostly she talked, we walked and I listened. This is hardly a by-the-book, standard cookie-cutter approach, but it was a most productive hour. So I've dusted off my walking shoes and will take them in to the office just in case we need to take another walk the next time she comes in. We will continue to walk as long as she needs to.

Merry Christmas!

by Jan Gossaert_Early 16th century




I just love the heavenly host hovering in the sky in this painting. The angels seem to be the only ones in this scene who really understand what's happening. They seem to be clapping their hands with joy. Everybody else looks most serious.

Little graces have abounded today. Youngest daughter and boyfriend arrived safely after a long trip filled with flight delays and a missed connection. Miraculously their luggage all arrived after being routed through O'Hare. Earlier I walked into Mother's room on the nursing unit to see a single red rose with a card which read "From someone who is thinking of you". One of the nurses told me that a rose was delivered anonymously to everyone of the patients on Long Term care. So many kindnesses have been extended to Mother and the others on the unit, most of whom have no idea who to thank.

Gifts are all wrapped. The tree still needs decorating. Oldest Daughter and my favorite son-in-law are en route. Good Lord willing our house will be full tonight. Well, not quite full. There is one free bed in the boy's room. Life is good. My family is healthy, normally content, employed and no one is in jail. We have food in the kitchen and will be able to pay our Christmas bills. According to NORAD, Santa is somewhere over Siberia, so Christmas is on the way. I send wishes to you for a joyful Christmas and a wish that your eyes be opened to the miracles around you.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

The last month has been really tough at work. Two new couples and two new individuals have come in plus two old patients have circled back around. The hours have been long and intense. Yesterday I set a personal record of nine hours solid without a break. That is nothing compared to my colleagues but it was a new high water mark for me.

I've never been too fond of working with couples but it seems this is my season for learning how.This week I thought I'd have to get the fire hose out on two occasions when things got heated between husband and wife within the hour. And then, of course, there is Christmas. All the old hurts,disappointments, and shattered illusions now rise to the surface. Several of my people have a history dead babies in their lives and all the baby themes of the season are particularly hard for them. One lady's husband died the week before Christmas many years ago and since then, there is no joy in her heart this time of year. And of course there's money. It's a lousy time of year to be struggling financially.

If one lives with an alcoholic, Christmas brings more drinking and consequently more fights. One woman's earliest memory was of her Mom pulling a knife on her Dad during an argument over where they should place the Christmas tree. One man recalls Dad and Mom having knock down fights about when they put up the tree. Usually Dad won that fight. The family had to wait until Dad came home from the bars on Christmas Eve to put up their tree. And current difficulties like broken relationships, feeling unloved, loneliness, being poor, being sick, being laid off, being sad are all magnified in the light of the holly-jolly, jingly-bell frenzy surrounding us. One thing that keeps this unrelenting misery from becoming overwhelming are the touches of God's grace that filter through the muck. Yesterday it came through the CNA who told me she's crocheting an afghan to give to my mother for Christmas. Or through the man who left a big bag of cereal treats on my desk which I was able to share with my patients all day long. One woman told me of receiving a $500 dividend check yesterday just when she was wondering how she'd pay for repairs to her car. The bill came to $495. At such moments, my heart is lifted, I am encouraged and my prayer is "Thanks I needed that".

Owl on the prowl

This evening, a great horned owl perched in a branch above our roof. His hooting called me out of the house and it was still light enough to get a proper look at him. According to my owl authority this fellow is claiming our house as his territory. The staking of territory is a preamble to nesting. Perhaps he'll hang around to raise his family. There are lots of rodents who come in to the back yard to pick up what seeds the birds drop from the feeder, so an owl family should not go hungry here. Last Christmas eve, a pair of great horns flew in to serenade us on our front porch. It was a one of a kind Christmas present.

Brain on idle

I have been on vacation for the past week and I haven't been thinking deep blog worthy thoughts. It's been an "at home" vacation which for mothers might seem a contradiction of terms. Since my chicks are all grown up, it's great to have the opportunity to do some modified clucking over them. It was a very good visit with youngest daughter. Son was around quite a bit too. Since I have dedicated myself to simplifying the feast, I was less frazzled and enjoyed Thanksgiving far more. This is a healthy strategy!

The guys ate hot turkey sandwiches last night while I was taking youngest daughter to the airport, so we are down to just scraps of turkey. Actually the second annual flat chested mail order turkey lived up to the luscious juicy recollection of its predecessor.

Our Thanksgiving decorations will stay up a few more days since I'm not ready to start the hanging of the greens. The neighbors to the east always lead the annual Christmas decorating charge. Each year they create an amazing outdoor display of Christmas lights. Each year it grows bigger and bolder. This year many of the lights blink in synchronization to music, which we mercifully can't hear down at our house. Seeing as we do not live in a highly populated area, the glow from the neighbor's yard can be seen a good mile away, more if there were no trees to block the view. There is something outrageously wonderful about the display. It's not tasteful in the least. It's garish and haphazard, but it's fun. We get enjoyment out of the neighbor's exuberant delight and we don't have to pay their electric bill.

Saturday we went to our town's Christmas parade which is always fun. We were joined by eldest daughter's best school bud and her adorable 7 month old daughter who took all the noise and lights in stride. I admire the ingenuity of some of the floats which for the most part advertise local businesses. A memorable one was the brain child of a local plumber who created a Christmas tree out of lighted shower heads which then sprayed down streams of water. Only a plumber would think of something like that! Of course there were cubs scouts, tiny gymnasts cartwheeling down the street, the high school band, a grade school band, junior baton twirlers and pompom girls, the fair queen on her throne, local dignitaries, fire trucks and gratefully several churches reminding us what this season is really all about. Until I saw them marching in the parade, I did not know that our sheriff's department has a posse. It is a posse on horseback which trotted by in full uniform. Our tax dollars at work. The things I learn watching a parade!

Advent/Christmas Music Meme

This Meme comes from the Psalmist
1. What are your favorite Advent/Christmas Hymns?
The Candlelight Carol by John Rutter, In the Bleak Midwinter, How Far is it to Bethlehem? Joy to the World
2. What are your least favorite?
The Holly and the Ivy (monotonous!!), The First Nowell
3. Which secular seasonal songs make you want to run screaming into traffic?
The Little Drummer Boy
4. Do you play Christmas music in the house and in the car?
Oh yes. Everything from the Bach Christmas Oratorio to Clint Black singing "Milk and Cookies".
5. What is your favorite Christmas CD?
"Sing in Exultation" by the Choirs of the National Cathedral under the direction of the incomparable James Litton.
What are your choices?

Happy Thanksgiving

In between assembling the stuffing and prepping the big bird for the oven, I send wishes for a wonderful Thanksgiving. May it be a day of constant reminders of how richly blessed we are and how bountifully( said patting my plump tummy) the good Lord provides and cares for each of us. My prayer is that we can be lifted up above our own concerns and see with those inner eyes the wonders of this life.

On a personal note, youngest daughter arrived safe and sound with a big bag of fresh bagels in hand. What a great kid! The traffic on the interstate was only heavy in spurts so it was a pleasant drive to and from the major city airport. On the way I listened to Jan Karon's Light from Heaven on CD. It is sentimental, nostalgic and a good kind of story to enjoy at a sentimental, nostalgic time of year. The Mitford series, of which this book is the last, takes me back to my years as an Episcopalian. I can hear training analyst's voice saying something about regression in service to the ego at this point. Be that as it may. It is, however, very hard to see Fr. Tim, the series main character, attending this past year's General Convention of the Episcopal church . Does the church of this series even exist anymore? Or is it a kind of Brigadoon illusion? Anyway, fiction though it may be, the kindness, generosity, and faith of Karon's stories do warm the heart and I enjoyed my visit with Fr. Tim et al.

Son will be joining us later today. Oldest daughter and her husband are enjoying the day with his family. I am forever grateful to his family for so warmly welcoming her into their family. As her mother I think "what's not to love?", but it blesses me that she has found such a great home away from home. So now I'm off to consult a cookbook so I know how long to cook this year's second annual flat chested mail order turkey. Once the bird is roasting, I'll take daughter and son out to visit their grandmother at the nursing facility. This is this the gloomy part of this day since last year she was able to join us for Thanksgiving dinner. This year she is too frail so we must go to her. It should brighten her day to see the grands. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who stops by and remember the words of the famous chefs "Baste, baste, baste".