How Do You Help a Chlld Overcome Fear?

James @ 6

My six-year old grandson learning a hard lesson in reality. He's at an age where he is understanding more about things like tragedies, catastrophic events, etc. like 9-11 which anniversary just passed. His school did a memorial. His young mind is starting to put things together too.

He watched the replay of the twin towers being hit by airplanes. He's flown on commercial airlines before. His Daddy flies all the time for work. He is presently in Afghanistan. His mother has a tripped planned for visiting her sister in Alaska next month. Their family has several trips planned in the next six months to prepare for their relocation to Ireland next summer. James is now terrified of flying.

He watched as people fell to their deaths from the towers. Even though his grandfather died, it was three years ago. These deaths of the people were horrific, not peaceful as his grandfather's was. The real concept of death and war hit him although he understood that people were gone.  His Daddy was in a war zone. His Daddy! The man that chose him to be his son unlike his brothers who were born of him. His Daddy loved him so much that he went to court to make him his so nobody could separate them ever. Yes, for a six-year old, he understood much.

 Jennifer, my daughter, let him watch the news that night. It was part of his social studies homework. The top story was about an American base in Afghanistan being bombed. There were no survivors. James, being a smart kid, knew what base his Daddy was attached to. It was his Daddy's base camp that got hit. He was inconsolable.

Jennifer immediately got on the phone and called her beloved, the reassure both of them. No answer. Jennifer called the Wives hot line. Busy. Then, she waited for her phone to ring or a knock on the door. For eighteen hours, they knew nothing. Her phone finally rung. It was David, her beloved. He and his buddy were reassigned the day of the bomb and had flown out of the base the morning of the blast. Between the flight and the check in procedures, he couldn't call sooner.

It was all too much for this little boy to handle. We've talked to him and reassured him, but he's severely traumatized. The fact that I'm in Georgia and he's in AZ isn't helping. All I can do is love him, from afar. She set an appointment for him with a child psychiatrist. In the meantime, she's cancelled her visit with her sister. The idea that he could lose both parents in plane crashes is too much for his little mind can handle or needs to cope with right now. Jenn is erring on the side of caution where  her son's long term health is concerned, I can't fault her for that.

Jennifer and David 2018

While Jennifer and David are not officially married. their wedding to make it official was planned for June 2019. In Arizona, they are considered common law married because they have lived together as man and wife for four years. They've since called off their wedding because of the current events. They will get married in Ireland when David has leave in March. She calls it eloping in Ireland. I think it's sound thinking. I'm happy for them and wish them well.

Why Ireland? Jennifer's new job as executive pastry chef starts in July. David's corporate headquarters is there. David dual citizenship (Ireland and US) and half of his family is there. Jennifer is sort of Irish by way of my beloved. Why not? Besides, it'll give me a chance to use my passport. A flight there is actually cheaper than a flight to Arizona.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Is Fear Holding You Back?

A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned about fear holding me back from having surgery sooner. I also posted this picture with it. The words are actually words to a song. If you listen to a Christian radio station, you might have heard it. Zach Williams, the artist who recorded this song, has a couple of songs which hit home for me. I'll post both the songs that spurned me into action and this one later in this blog.

This song strengthens my resolve to continue waiting for the surgeries that may fix the spasticity and the pain that accompanies it. These three lines of this song reminds me that God is in control.  Theodore Roosevelt said it best when he said, "Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty" even waiting.

But waiting isn't without its own trials. Fear creeps back in. Is this interminable wait because it's the wrong decision? This is the biggest one for me because I'm always questioning my decisions. Yes, you are not the only one thinking this in whatever choice you make. Conquering the effects of pain from the spasticity on my body and on the emotional front is another huge trial. The spasticity in my arm causes my trapezius muscles in both shoulders to strain causing unbelievable headaches, and my spine to contort as I try to find comfort. Which, in turn, causes more muscle aches from poor posture. But the worst, is Mel asking me all the time, "What's wrong? Are you mad at me?" Because my happy, smiling demeanor has changed to a frown or scowl most days because I'm dealing with this pain. I actually look haggard and tired as I go about my daily routine. I find myself doing the bare minimum to get by which is totally out of character for me.

Combating these fears and concerns is exhausting! A small voice keeps reminding me that God is in control and He has not forsaken me. Thus fear is abated for a time, but it returns. Yes, even for me a minister, it does so don't beat yourself up about it. Hey, I'm only human! God understands this through Christ.

In the previous blog, I mentioned my fear of dying as a reason for not coming to a decision sooner. You have to admit that there's not much worse than death. Although, some people say death would be easier than living post stroke. I don't feel that way. Now after years, first with the Fibromyalgia  and in combination with the spasticity, I can honestly see their point. Don't worry. I still don't have a death wish. At what point does your desire to be pain free overrides your chance of death? I reached that point, and then some.

 So what is fear holding you back from doing?

Now as promised above the two songs that spurned me to action and give me the strength. Enjoy. May they touch your soul as they did mine.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: What Are Your Fears?

Are you afraid you'll stay impaired for the rest of your life? I just past my 5th anniversary living post stroke.  I can tell you honestly, that the thought has crossed my mind quite a few times over the years.

If I'd had my way the recovery process would have taken a couple of months. I imagine this is true for most stroke survivors. In my case, I was making great strides towards just weakness rather than paralysis for the first couple months. If strength of will was needed I would have succeeded. Unfortunately after the first two months an injury occurred stopping most forward progress on my right upper limb. Then, within six months another stroke set me back to square one in my recovery and took some other things with it like my reading comprehension. Plus the high tone that was present with the first stroke became the dreaded, constant spasticity.

 But looking back over the past five years, I haven't lived my life in a vacuum waiting for my recovery. There have been many times over the years that I have had fears; both great and small. Who doesn't, right? Everyone has had periods of being fearful. I'm no different, although I don't focus on them as many do, but look up to my Heavenly Father for relief. I don't focus on what might happen or never happen.

When you are afraid, where does your focus lie? When you are a child, you ran for comfort to your parents. But where do you go now that you are an adult? I can no longer run to my earthly father. He loses ground on his earthly toe hold daily. I run to my biggest, baddest Daddy anywhere...God. But still the thought still nags at the edges of my consciousness after five years... will I be like this the rest of my life?

Truthfully, I hope not. But it sure looks that way from where I'm sitting. All the gains I make with the Botox and the dry needling is one step forward and two backwards. It gets really frustrating and tiring. I'm constantly in battle mode against my spasticity and weakness/paralysis. I'm still trying to get to the larger steps forward and smaller steps back stage. I am beginning to doubt and waver. Is this a fight I can't win? I've never had one of those before. Yeah, I've done my fair share of adaption and compromises. I consider those a win because I do get what I'm working towards. I'm thankful for even partial wins.

My solution...
As I said before, I'm not living my post stroke life in a vacuum. I attempt something new every day. I used to say learn something new every day, but I'm still in the relearning stage. Part of me fears that I'll be in this stage forever. After a stroke, there's too much to relearn. It all takes hard work and almost daily reeducation just to keep my mind working properly. Ah heck, my mind has always had quirks that enabled me to be creative in all ways. Just never this huge of a quirk to overcome.

Alive, awake, aware, active

I found this "Truth Time" clock on the internet. I found it to be an excellent example of living post stroke. On the quarter hour are the words: Alive! Awake, Aware, Active. First of all, as survivors, we are alive! Our stroke didn't kill us. Some of us wish that it had. I know that feeling, but it didn't.

Awake appears next going clockwise. Get it, clock wise. Your brain just had a big insult happen to it. Wakey, wakey time and shake it up. Nothing is worse than wasting brain power. Granted we have less brain cells than we did before, but the average person is purported to use less than 10% of their brains so we killed off a few thousand cells, we still have 90% that we never used before. Okay, it's like 75% left in my case, but still time to wake it up and use it. We're alive!

So it's on to the next quarter, Aware. Because we are impaired both mentally and physically, we always have to be aware of everything. Our surroundings so we don't hurt ourselves. HAHA! This doesn't work for me to well. Aware of what's going around us. If we just lay around feeling sorry for ourselves we miss out on life. We are alive!

The last quarter is Active. You remember the old saying; "if you don't use it you lose it?" So you are paralyzed. You can't talk right. You're brain damaged! Accept it and go on. Nothing will never be the same ever again even with full recovery because there will always be an again. You have PT exercises to regain the use of useless  limbs. These exercises also exercise your brain too. Make your brain do jumping jacks. Play hopscotch over those damaged areas. Each day I push myself against my limits. I may fail today to accomplish it but there is always tomorrow. Make your brain figure out how to do those things that you really want to do. Get creative. This exercises your brain also. Don't live on the pity pot. Self pity can be an morbidly obese, lazy way out if you over feed it. Allow yourself moments. Set an alarm to time it. When the alarm goes off, get active. We are alive!

You have fears. That's understandable. Strokes or any life changing event can bring them to a head. I just had one of those crazy images pop into my head when I typed the previous line. I pictured a zit. So when you have a zit comes to a head, what do you do for it? Pop it. Realize that the fear stems from a problem or perceived problem. Face it. It might happen. In my case, I will be like this forever and not recover from my strokes. So my attitude is to live each day the best I can. Will I have good days and bad or horrible days? Yep!  Am I limited in what I can accomplish? Yep! But if I don't figure out how to do it, it's my fault! Sure there are some things that would be easier to do with two working arms or legs, but I'm not the only one on earth facing this issue. Just like everyone else on earth. So is it really so different? Fears are fears. My question is what are you going to do to resolve them? Things my be difficult, BUT...

Nothing is impossible.

Sleepless Sleepiness and Other Irritants

Recently, I started waking with the "Gotta go. Gotta go. Gotta go right now!" It doesn't matter if I went before lying down. It doesn't matter if I've slept two hours or eight hours, the results are still the same. I barely or don't make it to the bathroom before warm liquid is running down my legs.

Now I do the fluid restriction before bed. I use the clock as I've mentioned in other posts, but to no avail.  At first I thought it might be a bladder infection, but the copious amount of fluids issuing from my body rejects that notion.

This morning was one of those times except I awoke at 1:30 in the morning after only four hours in bed. After putting on my AFO and shoes, rolling out of bed, and walking the twenty odd steps into the bathroom I found myself peeing into my brace and shoes. I didn't even get my panties down before catching the bulk of the flood into the toilet. This is down right irritating! No wonder I'm opting for full diapers again.

After I cleaned myself up and changed clothes I noticed the living room light on. My husband's hospital bed is in the living room. I went to investigate and found him on the floor in a heap, heaving trying to breathe without his oxygen on. As is my previous emergency training and my nature, I act first to remedy the situation and then panic afterwards. I got him to his feet. As he leaned doubled over the foot of the bed, I put his oxygen on. He kept shaking his head no. "No oxygen."

I thought he was saying that he didn't want it, but what he was trying to tell me was the
tube was kinked. I put the nasal cannula on him anyhow. Then we did the hand signal thing until I understood what the problem was.  Then I back tracked the line, found the kink and straightened it. I half carried him into bed. A miracle feat for a woman paralyzed or partially paralyzed on one side. I got him settled and he was still saying, "No oxygen."

I pulled the cannula away from his nose and I could feel it. I told him to look at my nose and focus on slowing down his breathing. "In and out" I started a cadence to slow down his gasping reflex. Then he realized, that he was getting oxygen. The panicked look left his eyes and  he drifted off to sleep again.

While I knew I should go back to sleep, I couldn't. The adrenaline let down effect had me by the throat and mind. It was like Friday when his oxygen machine alarm went off. I placed him on his rescue bottle of air and called the oxygen supply company. I don't know about other stroke survivors with aphasia issues but for me stress plays a major part in how bad I talk. When they answered the phone my voice was gone. Just trying to say my name was like pulling taffy. I had to take a couple of deep breaths just to do that. Luckily, the person who answered the phone knew about me and patiently waited for the words to come.

The what ifs that made me such a good storyteller played over and over in my mind. What if I didn't have this bladder problem and had slept all night. All of a sudden I was thankful for the mess. By the time I got settled down enough to sleep, there were other issues to be taken of...the rabbits, guinea pig, and chicken needed to be feed. The cats and dogs wanted to be fed, and let out and in. Medicines dosed out. For my hubby this means raising the head of the bed, handing him a water bottle and giving him one pill at a time (including finding the ones he drops in the folds of bed sheets), urinal or diaper change, and then lowering his head some, checking his legs for skin breaks, and making sure the humidifier on his oxygen condenser has enough water. By this time he's asleep again. The morphine does its job well.

Another hour monitoring his vital signs and I'm free for two hours. I guess I could do away with his vital checks, but old habits die hard. I toy with the idea of just drifting off to sleep but fear of not waking up in time for the next round of meds keeps me awake. I still head nod my way through the time praying he doesn't try to get up out of bed on his own again.

Don't tell me I should have had the rails up because I did. He scooted off the foot of the bed to try and get to his rescue oxygen and fix the problem with his line. The bad thing about being one handed is the bed rails. They are the type that have a knob that you have to pull out while you slide it down on both sides of the rails. One handed becomes a two part operation in increments to lower the rail to get him in his chair.

By 10AM I am able to once again lay my head on my pillow because my youngest daughter is here for a couple of hours before she has to go to work. Two hours of heavenly sleep for my sleepless sleepiness. Unconsciousness disturbed by the "Gotta go. Gotta go. Gotta go right now!" So it all begins again.

Nothing is impossible with determination.

Wednesday Writerly Way ~ Fear

Credit Wikipedia

• Fear is the enemy. 
• Fear produces nothing but insecurity. 
• Fear can paralyze.
• Fear is counterproductive. 

I know all of this. So why am I talking about fear once again today? Because I've been analyzing my inability to write. I keep saying, when things slow down at bit the muse will return...it always has in the past. But the reality is that my life will never slow down. I move from this or that crisis continuously and always have, but still wrote.

With my previous agents both vying for me to sign with them again... With the talk of a bidding war for publishing right... With me only halfway finished with the rough draft. All of it is adding extra pressure on me. I should be totally excited and invigorated to finish, but I'm not.  So it makes me wonder if I'm not afraid. There are few things in this world that frighten me barring snakes, so why this? Why now? It's not like I haven't been here before. I have. Granted it's been twenty years since my last bidding war, but I have been here before.

I should take my own advice and just write the book? The more time that passes without writing the harder it is to get back into the swing of writing. Granted, I've had more than my share of Murphy's Law hitting me these past few months, but still. When I first started writing books, I had two kids under the age of five, a full time job, and was self-employed as a caterer, but still I wrote. Later, I was recovering from a hellish helicopter crash injuries, with four kids under the age of ten and still I wrote. Later still, I have a terminally ill husband, four grown children, eight grandchildren, two jobs, and still I wrote penning six books in two years. So why now?

Yes, I've had a stroke, but I typed 37K words in a matter of months one-handed. Too many irons in the pot with too many distractions? Possibly. I can't focus as well as I used to. Lack of drive stemming from constant fatigue? That's another factor too. I used to be the type of person that operated very well on three or four hours of sleep at night. While awake I burned the candle at both ends and in the middle. Now it's more fizzle time. Maybe I'm paying for forty years of doing that.

Credit

Shouldn't the prospect of continuing in the traditional publishing rat race, be a bright spot? Many authors would kill for such an opportunity, wouldn't you? Perhaps I'm over thinking the whole situation. I have after all have been an indie author with my own schedule for the past two years and liked the unpressured (almost) lifestyle. If I worked hard at promotion, I saw an instant rise in my pocket in royalties within a month or quarterly time period. If I didn't work hard, the sales still trickled in. With traditional publishing, it's six months, 3 months prior to release and 3 months after. Sporadically after that and I got paid bi-annually until it goes out of print.

Is it fear? Is it insecurity? Is it laziness? Is this the end? I'm just wondering.