The “Beatles” aka Logie Family and our longtime friends, the Gignacs, brought the party to Mesa Verde today. It was a celebration indeed. I won’t tell all the details, except that Vernon was moved to tears many times. I sense a softening is happening, as it should. Here are some pictures, I’ll let them tell the story of today.
Last night, after posting about Anxiety, I colored in one of Justine’s drawings that she had made earlier in the day. In this picture, Ursula turns into a dragon (with memories of her old self in thought bubbles) while Ariel smiles on.
This makes me think of Rilke’s words:
“How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.
So you must not be frightened if a sadness rises up before you larger than any you have ever seen; if a restiveness, like light and cloudshadows, passes over your hands and over all you do. You must think that something is happening with you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand; it will not let you fall. Why do you want to shut out of your life any uneasiness, any miseries, or any depressions? For after all, you do not know what work these conditions are doing inside you.”
This has been a surprisingly rough week for me emotionally so I haven’t known what to write. In the state I’ve been in, running fears and feelings over in my mind, I’ve had to come to term with a new place in the journey. I won’t go into detail because I’m not ready to share all that here…I’m still figuring it out on my own. But I am marking this here for my own memory. Traumatic experiences can return as anxiety with unexpected triggers. I am assured this is normal. But it’s still hard when it happens, even with the tools I have at my disposal.
I am also writing a little about Anxiety here because I hear sometimes people look at me as some superwoman, able to leap tall buildings in a single bound (but with children in tow.) Though I’d love to agree, the truth is that I only seem like that because I have no choice in our circumstances. The real me is much more ready to cower her head. Every once in a while that girl comes back for her things—and freaks out over the situation (or parts of it.) I don’t like not having some control, and I’m sure that’s the way it is for most of us, whether we realize we show it or not.
Control is an illusion anyway, right?
The best thing I heard this week (from a friend, who happens to be a psychologist) as I was seeking sense of why I was suddenly panicking is this: “As you go further down the spiral staircase to the source of the pain, you need to be tender with yourself.”
I tucked that one in my pocket and have been returning to touch it for two days.
Sometimes I need permission that I can’t give myself.
Here are some things I found helped me through my unexpected anxiety this week (and moved me back toward a place of feeling safe, calm, and semi-balanced):
Call my mom, have her pray for me (she’s so good at that), go to the beach with Justine, get wet (hello, bathtub temps), bring along camera for instant creative connection, confess my feelings to good, safe friends, read some Psalms (Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me), go to exercise class, pray, see a friend, breathe deeply, take a nap, have glass of wine, talk to therapist, pray some more, go swimming in a pool (I think I need to do this once a week, seriously), dance around living room with Justine, take a walk, go to the movies with Maki, call best friend, blog. (Not necessarily in that order…)
Obviously the way we deal with things is not a one-fits-all recipe. More of an experiment we hope to get right more often than not.
“Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.” —Soren Kierkegaard
*The picture above was taken during the crazy hot storm we had a few weeks ago. I think Justine looks like a mini-warrior….which she is, of course.
Vernon has seemed pretty out of it the past few days (apparently since Saturday, according to Joe.) In the mornings I’ve been at Dialysis with him, I noticed that he hasn’t been acting as sharp. He’s been very uncomfortable on the chair, though he hasn’t mentioned wanting to die again, thank God. He hadn’t had a PEMF mat treatment for for almost two weeks, which may have been a good thing in that I can tell how much it actually works. I called Mike and he drove up with Justine and I after school this afternoon. Almost immediately when he was on the mat, Vernon perked up. It was quite incredible. I knew that it was working before, and I knew he enjoyed the experience, but I was surprised that within seconds, he seemed to be more comfortable and lucid. It will be interesting to visit him tomorrow and see how he is acting.
Joe has been very concerned about him. He says he hasn’t talked to him since Saturday, that Vernon has been sleeping longer hours again. We thought someone might have slipped him some Ativan in the night. I went to the head nurse and made sure she wrote a note to have the nurses call me EVERY time they are tempted to give it to him. Personally, I’d prefer them not to give it to him ever, as if he has an allergic reaction to the stuff. But they seem to be more comfortable thinking that if he gets aggressive, they have a solution. I’m hoping it doesn’t come to that at all.
Dr. Dan was there and was able to see the PEMF mat working so we will have an order for it when ours arrives. Perhaps if he continues to see good results, he will be able to suggest it as a therapy options for other patients in the future. Dr. Dan also validated Joe as Vernon’s advocate, saying that if he starts acting strange again for a period of time or acts like he is in more pain than usual, he should give him a call immediately. He also talked to the nurses about giving Joe a little more freedom as his friend, allowing him to take him to the group events (like movies in the multipurpose room) which should lift Vernon’s spirits as well as giving Joe the respect he deserves.
The nicest thing was seeing how the longer Vernon was on the mat, Vernon was able to respond emotionally to Justine (and to me.) It was as if I could see his heart being warmed up right in front of us. The love is there…its just gets stuck behind his confusion and discomfort.
It goes both ways…we hope he feels our love. But when we feel his love, we feel better too! It fills us with more than what I’d call hope. In those moments, all the other issues fade away.
“These three remain: faith, hope, and love. The greatest of these is love.”
I know this to be true.
It seems that I always have a little blue-day after a getaway, especially when I hit the ground running. In this case, I was only gone a few days, so I didn’t really expect it. Well, I didn’t know what to expect, actually…I never do with Vernon.
When I went to see him this morning, his eyes were clamped shut and he kept moaning that he was ill…that he wanted “to be killed,” that he didn’t want to live anymore. It took me by surprise as I haven’t heard this kind of talk from him yet (thankfully!) and I didn’t know how to respond. While the technicians were setting him up for Dialysis, I called my mom and cried. That’s my default, often.
He kept saying the same sort of thing to the nurses who were helping him, and he tossed and turned, obviously uncomfortable. Setbacks still hit me hard, even though I should be used to them by now. For all I know it was a hard night last night in which he didn’t get any sleep, and he’ll be better tomorrow. But when I haven’t been around for a few days, I can’t tell anything for sure. I have to remember not to get so emotional over small changes. He hasn’t had a mat treatment for over a week though, so its my assumption that he needs to be charged up again soon. We’ll try to get him that this week.
While I was gone though, I did have some wonderful people step up to help out. Nancy, Joe, and Mary went up on Friday during dialysis and spent time talking about fonts. I ran into Mary at Costco today and she told me all about it. She did say he had improved a lot since the last time she had been up—always encouraging! Nathan (an old friend I used to work with before leaving for the UK with Vernon) contacted me a few months ago, asking if he could help in any way. Though I still haven’t seen him since then, he and his bandmate drove up on Sunday to play music in the courtyard for whomever was around to listen. Elizabeth, a friend from college, whom I also haven’t seen in years and years, offered to sit with Vernon on Saturday, even though she lives in Los Angeles. She sent me a detailed letter of their time together (and a photo too!)
I am so blessed to know that unexpected people will show up to serve, sometimes out of the blue. I think of a classic battlefield, with rows of soldiers in the front…replaced by a new row when the first is fatigued. Vernon has a lot of people who care about him, I wonder if he understands at all? I’d like to think so…if only a little bit.
As for my personal life, I rely on my soldier-friends too.
My dear friend Nicole (whom I’ve known since I was 20) and I drove up to Berkeley to visit Lucy (whom I’ve known since I was 15) last weekend. We’ve all spent time together over the years and it was great to be together yet again. Lucy had just moved to Berkeley from Seattle, and I was so happy to finally be in the same state with her again that I had to go up and “warm the house.” But spending time with old friends is golden. No one knows you the same way that old friends do…and for me, it was a time of sharing dreams and insecurities. It turns out that both of my dear friends have experience with hospital and hospice care for loved ones of their own. It’s something we talked about a lot: the value of caring for others in difficult times, and exploring one’s identity apart from (or because of) that. I came back, well-fed and refreshed for the next chapter.
(Trying to obey the signs.)
