Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
While I think his point is interesting, I'm sure it is too simplistic, and probably not universal.
But I found myself today wondering out loud how Bart Whittaker, who is on trial for orchestrating the murder of his mother, brother, and father so that he could inherit one million dollars got to the point of being able to even think of doing that. It just seems so unnatural, so evil, so opposite of what I would expect from anyone. Maybe there's more to what Fred had to say that I wanted to accept.
So maybe I do believe that everyone is basically good rather than evil. That doesn't make me a liberal, but it does probably make me a moderate rather than a conservative.
And in today's political environment, since I don't seem attracted to those labeled either liberal or conservative, that's okay with me.
Monday, February 26, 2007
- One study which randomly selected caregivers from an Alzheimer directory found that 25% had clinical depression. In another similar study, 36% of caregivers who were not seeking help had clinical depression, while 68% of those seeking help had clinical depression. For comparison, 11-34% of caregivers of stroke victims suffer clinical depression.
- Dementia caregivers were found to have a 15% lower level of antibody function than non caregivers, and a 23% higher level of stress hormones. This means that vaccinations, such as flu vaccines, are less effective. It also means that caregivers are more at risk for hypertension, diabetes, and and even cognitive problems.
- Dietary and physical activity interventions have proven helpful in reducing caregiver stress effects and risks.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Savage writes about the fact that we often display emotional, mental, and physical symptoms of grief as we approach an anniversary of a loss, even when we have not consciously thought about the anniversary. He gave personal examples of a time when both he and his wife were irritable and grumpy, and once they talked about it, realized that it was the anniversaries of both of their mother's deaths, even though they occurred almost 20 years before.
This is further validated by brain research which indicates that the brain, when not focused on some present activity, stays very busy trying to make sense of the past and working on the future.
The reason this brought an "Aha" to me is that for several weeks I have been a little down, both emotionally and physically. While I'm conscious that today is the fourth anniversary of Mom's death, I hadn't tied my symptoms to grieving. Perhaps an even bigger "Aha" came when thinking about Dad's behavior and symptoms over the past month or so in this light. He is grieving Mom's death as well as the illness of his wife Carol, which has interrupted their lives in significant ways. He, as we all do, keeps trying to figure out how to feel better by trying to find physical remedies -- prescriptions, exercise, foods, etc.
He's just following the same rule we all seem to follow, "I'm not feeling well, so there must be a physical solution." Yet we all know that our emotions drive how we feel, even physically. But most of the time when we're not feeling well, we first think about physical causes. Part of that is probably a defense against the pain of bringing the emotions to the conscious level, and part of it is cultural -- being seen as overly emotional is a sign of weakness. Yet it's amazing how healing it is when we recognize the grief and allow the emotions to become conscious.
Learning how to grieve consciously seems to be a lost art in our culture. But the more life experience we have, the more we have to grieve. And the more important it is for our physical and emotional wellness that we learn to grieve well.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
I'm drinking a second cup of tea this morning, and it tastes especially good. Part of that is due to the cold I have that just won't go away because of the weather swings and the heater being on and off and being around others with whom I keep swapping germs back and forth. But I think the real reason may be that today Sara and I plan to visit Mom's grave.
It'll be the first time for Sara to visit her grandmother's grave, and Mom's been gone for almost four years. We've talked about knowing that Mom's not there and how weird it is in a sense to visit a grave. But it is a reminder of Mom's life on this earth, and it's also a dose of reality. My visits over the years, both alone and with Dad, have been unremarkable. But today may be more, because for Sara, she's covering some new ground in grieving her grandmother.
I've been grieving Mom more this last year than the previous three. No doubt, part of that is the fact that Dad has been back here and I've been spending a lot of time with him. But the larger part of it has to do with my involvement with Lifeline Chaplaincy, making pastoral care visits with people who are often quite sick, and many who are in the process of dying. My feelings about Mom, her illness, and her death are very much a part of me as I minister to those going through similar processes, and I know that it helps me be effective in helping them. We were told in training that our pain would rise as we help others in pain, and it does. But it's okay, because it's a good sort of pain with Mom.
I know that each of us go through grief differently. But I'm learning better that it is a long-term process, and also that I don't want it any other way. Time for a little more tea!
Saturday, February 17, 2007
This is one of the red shouldered hawks that hangs around our back yard. He spent a lot of time out there today, so it gave me a chance to get lot's of photo attempts. I'm fascinated by the intracasy of this bird's coloring and designs, that God went to the trouble to make each bird so unique and beautiful
This photo was taken through a 20x spotting scope with a Nikon Coolpix P4 set to 3x.
As I was walking up to a patient's door this week, a man was just getting settled into a steno chair by the door. I asked if he was with the patient I was to see, and he told me he was with someone in another room, and just finding a place to wait while the medical folks were performing a procedure.
It turned out that the person I went to see wasn't in the room, so on the way out I began to exchange pleasantries with the man. That spark of interest gave him permission to tell me some of his story, about a relative to whom the doctors had just said they had no further help to offer. He talked to me about God's help, and we talked about how hard this circumstance was. And at the end of the visit, I asked if he'd like to pray, and he said, "Absolutely." I can still feel his strong grip on my hand as we prayed.
Just when this man needed someone to be able to open his heart to and share the pain he was feeling, God brought me to him and made me available by having the person I went to see be out of the room. I can't believe that was "synchronicity," the word the world uses to describe such happenings. It could only be providence, the work of the Holy God.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Are there children under 18 within your church or your child's classroom or in your immediate neighborhood who are care givers for an adult member of their familiy? Probably.
Sara called me last night right after the evening national news to talk about the report she had seen about children as caregivers. She was touched by what she saw, as I was when she retold me the story almost verbatim. As we talked, we both wondered how many situations we have at our church where children are caregivers.
Here are the facts: 1.3 million children ages 8-18 provide care for a relative. That translates to 1 out of every 25 or 30 children in the U.S. being a caregiver. Most of us are unaware that it's going on because it's rarely talked about. I immediately thought of the young quarterback on Friday Night Lights caring alone for his grandmother because his dad was working in Iraq. But that's TV. Are there similar situations in our church family, or in our neighborhood? And if so, could we help?
Friday, February 09, 2007
For most of my life, I've been recognized and rewarded for what I know and can share with others. I've always loved learning, figuring out how to do something, and then passing that on to others. Teaching, speaking, writing, coaching, leading are what I just seem to do naturally. As part of that, I love learning new stuff, or finding a different slant on old stuff. I enjoy building mental models of how things work or should work, and sharing those models with others.
So it seemed natural when I retired to continue doing these things I had received R&R for both as a second career and for ministry. Only that hasn't worked out so well. Ventures and projects that I was excited about and that others encouraged have for the most part been dead ends. They used my strengths and experience, served good purposes, and were pursued using all the conventional wisdom success factors. But they haven't succeeded.
For example, about the time I retired, I became passionate around the idea of helping people who were retiring redirect their lives to service, especially to ministry. As I wrote about it and talked to people about it, there was interest and encouragement, so I set out to promote the idea to individuals and churches, hoping to engage them in moving forward. I've knocked on a lot of doors, been politely greeted by most, and even had a few conversations that seemed promising for a little while. But nothing has resulted in engagement, in moving forward.
One day it occurred to me that just maybe instead of trying to help others use their retirement for ministry -- serving God and serving others -- that maybe I just needed to do that myself. (Of course at the time, I thought that promoting the concept and helping individuals and churches do that successfully was my ministry.) But it's interesting how closed doors force you to re-evaluate.
While all of this was going on and I was also working to establish my life coaching business, some new opportunities to serve popped up. A few years ago unemployment was high, and I ended up leading a job seekers' support group. Then about 18 months ago my daughter and I began a support group for family caregivers. At about the same time, I got a call to help counsel Katrina refugees. And more recently, I've become a pastoral care volunteer for Lifeline Chaplaincy, visiting with patients at M.D. Anderson one day a week.
The common denominator in these activities is getting to engage, if even briefly, with individuals who are suffering from loss, who are grieving. What I've learned (that others already knew) is that people suffering from loss, whether it's jobs, or health, or whatever, are on spiritual journeys, and that when you spend time with them, you get to have spiritual conversations with them. And, those times are amazing, because God is there.
Maybe God is teaching me that as much as I enjoy gathering knowledge and sharing it, that my true calling is learning to love people one or a few at a time.
These are the doors that God opened for me, and what I've found inside is rich. I still do some coaching, both paid and free, primarily for clients going through career change. And I'm still promoting retiring to serve.
So how will my blogging change? More will be focused on stories and experiences, less on "How To's." More will be focused on encounters with God through other people. I also have a goal to learn more about God's creation -- birds, flowers, trees, and even weeds. Turns out I can't even put a name to most of them, and that doesn't seem quite right. And I want to spend more time learning to love the crowning achievement of God's creation, people, the way He does. Of course, there will still be pictures of family and some stories.