Protected: Where do I put this?
As I mentioned earlier, I have been sleeping better since I semi-unplugged from Facebook. Now that I am not so frequently stimulating my brain, keeping it awake, I realize how tired I was. I’ve slept A LOT this week. I often feel kind of lazy when I sleep in and typically, my schedule does not allow for this option, anyway. Mid to late September are usually slow for child/adolescent psychology practices, though because families are focused on getting kids back to school and it’s too early in the year for teachers to refer most kids to me for evaluations. (Occasionally, there is a little kid who can’t keep from running around the classroom and into the halls, and all around the school. I hear from those families during the first week of preschool or kindergarten.) So I’ve been sleeping in. I don’t know if I’ll ever work off the 1+ year of accumulated sleep debt but I definitely feel less in the hole today.
Maybe I will actually be able to stay up past 9:00 pm tonight!
It’s all about attainable goals, people.
It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
I had a very good friend, Mike, when I was high school. We did not go to the same school. We knew each other from summer music camp and we also played in a woodwind quintet together for a couple of years through a high school program at Cornish Institute for the Arts in Seattle. Mike played French horn. I played flute. In addition to being an amazing musician, Mike was smart, funny, and kind. His mother and grandmother had been interned as Japanese Americans during WWII. In high school, he was already involved in activism against racism. Mike and I graduated the same year, after which I stayed in Seattle to attend the University of Washington. He moved to Ohio and completed a bachelor’s in French horn at the Oberlin Conservatory. Mike visited me at college a couple of times when he was home for winter and summer break. I was thrilled that he would take time out to visit me, because he is such a great guy and all. Also, he told me that I should come to Oberlin because they needed good flutists. And also, because he missed me. (Swoon.) Oh wait, I forgot to mention something. I had a couple of big, multi-year crushes in my adolescence. Mike was one of them. And my crush on him was the only one that carried over from high school to college.
We wrote a few times and then we lost touch. After he graduated, he moved to New York and got a master’s degree in French horn from the Julliard School. Actually, if truth be told, I kept writing him and he either didn’t get the letters or stopped answering them. I was pretty steamed at him at one point but not because I still had a crush on him. I was dating John by then. It was because he had been a really good friend. And I HATE it when friends disappear.
In the years following high school, I came to suspect that Mike was gay. I worried that he’d cut off contact with me because he was afraid that I would disapprove. We were both raised in devout Catholic families. Our mothers had coincidentally both attended the same tiny all girls’, Immaculate Conception High School. We were both raised in pretty liberal households but Mike and I had never discussed our views on homosexuality. And times were a lot different 20+ years ago. I thought about writing him but that’s kind of an awkward letter to write. There’s no Hallmark card for, “I think you are gay and if you are that’s just fine with me and if you are not, that’s just fine with me, too. Have a great day!”
Once I learned how to Google, I periodically checked for Mike. He came up in searches frequently due to his activism (fairness for all despite race, sexuality, mental health status, or income) and also the 25 years he spent playing in the orchestra for Broadway shows in New York. But it wasn’t until five years ago that I actually found a way to contact him. Mike’s Facebook account came up on one of my searches. I didn’t belong to Facebook but I joined it in order to reconnect. And he didn’t remember me at first! And although as I suspected, Mike is gay, I don’t think our losing touch had anything to do with that. I think he just got swept away in his busy life.
I have seen Mike twice this year and although I have been so happy to see him more regularly, I have been very sad about the circumstances. His father died last spring. His mother died from ALS a number of years ago, not too long before I visited him in New York. Mike and his siblings all took turns taking care of their father, a month at a time. Mike now has a private acupuncture and herbal medicine practice in New York. He was leaving his business for a month at a time to care for his dad. Mike was also impacted by Hurricane Sandy during the same time period. He has had a really tough couple of years. And Mike is one of the most resilient people I know, which prompted me to write a post about him last March, when he visited me at the time of his father’s funeral, a couple of weeks after my TRAM surgery. (Mike has his own blog and wrote a beautiful post about his father life’s and transition to death. I highly encourage you to read it. You can find it here.)
Mike was in town again last week and I got to spend the afternoon with him on Friday. And although we had some deep conversation we also had fun. He looked less ashen than the last two times I’ve seen him. Mike’s spirit was lighter. We were silly. We were stupid with each other, like old friends are. I told him about the recording I made of my singing for my mom’s birthday. Mike told me that he didn’t remember the hymn by name. (I am suspicious about that.) He asked me to sing it. I sang most of the first verse and then he teasingly commanded, “now the chorus.” People, Mike is a professional musician who went to Oberlin and Julliard and he was sitting right across from me at a restaurant. I did not even have sheet music for that song, only the lyrics. I wasn’t even sure I sang the right notes at the right time or whether all of the measures I sang had the same number of beats in them! So I did what any three year-old would do and hid behind my napkin. Then we giggled like seven year-olds. We asked the waitress to take our photo. She took one photo and then asked us to be goofy. I have a really funny photo of Mike crossing one eye and keeping the other focused straight ahead. Knowing my Facebook posting habits, he immediately made me promise not to post it. (I looked cute in that photo. Sigh.)
Then we went to Lincoln Park, which is on the beach. While there, we fake fought about who the cute man who passed us was really smiling at. It was so fun to hear Mike joke again, just like when we were young. And since we are both in a lighter place in our lives than during our past visit, I told Mike the big piece of historical information I had been holding onto for the years since we reconnected. Now Mike knew that I had a crush on his for a few years. We have discussed that in the past. But what he didn’t remember was that when we were 16, he actually took me on a date! He did not remember but was so excited to hear about it and pumped me for the few details that I remembered. I remembered the super cool purple cotton jumpsuit that I wore. (Oh I loved that jumpsuit. Totally Sheena Easton! Or was it Olivia Newton John? I don’t know but it was totally 80’s!) I told him that I think we went to a party hosted by one of the clarinet players from youth symphony. The only other thing I could remember was that she was blonde. I remembered that he showed me how to combine Jelly Belly’s into “recipes” (for example, pineapple + coconut + pina colada.)
“Mike, you were frustratingly gentlemanly. You didn’t even give me a hug good night!” He laughingly but sincerely empathized with my high school tendency to love the boys who I would later learn were gay. I know that a lot of it was that those boys seemed a lot safer than the straight boys. I think I would have had a crush on Mike, anyway. As I told him, “Okay, we were not compatible THAT way. But Mike, you had all of the other qualities. You were a wonderful boy and you are a wonderful man.”
It is wonderful indeed to have amazing friends. I am so glad to have Mike back in my life.
9/20/13, Photo taken with my camera by Michael Ishii because we disliked the waitress’ photos and he further disliked my photos. Artists…
I love to socialize. My kindergarten report card read, “has trouble staying quiet during rest time.” People, I was chatting up the other kid on the carpet square beside me. Never mind that I was 6 years old for most of kindergarten and therefore too old to be napping. Subsequent evidence in my life has suggested that I have trouble stopping when it comes to socializing. I pretty much did not get into trouble in school. But my trigonometry teacher did make me sit by myself away from other students for awhile. And it wasn’t that I didn’t like math. I was actually very good at it. My guess is that I was sitting next to a friend or two and perhaps a really cute boy. So sorry to have disturbed the learning environment, Mr. Wickstrom.
When I was a researcher, I often worked with my door closed so that I would be less likely to start a conversation with someone who walked by my door. If I could orient my desk with my back to the door, that worked even better. I also used email communication when I could so that a simple question and answer would not turn into an extended conversation. I managed to be a productive worker who also had friends at the office. I worked out a balance.
I left research in 2007 and since that time I have been working full-time in private practice. There are two other psychologists that work out of the office. Sometimes our hours overlap and sometimes they do not. And even when they overlap, we are with patients with our doors closed. There is little time for socializing. I can go an entire day without even saying “hi” to one of my office mates because there is no chance to do so. We just don’t have breaks at the same time. I just hear them in the next room for the whole day and vice versa. Now when we need to consult with one another, we can set that up. It’s not like I work somewhere without professional support but consultations typically need to be scheduled.
I have used the Internet for many years now for professional, entertainment, and social purposes. What a medium. I have to say that in seven surgeries, it was a lifesaver during recuperation. And I’ve made so many wonderful friends through this blog, other blogs, and via Facebook. However, my laptop is rarely put away any more. When I am home, it hangs out on my coffee table. I used to keep it in my home office. And if my computer is somehow out of reach, my smartphone can be at my side.
And wow, Facebook allows for real time conversation sometimes with multiple people at once! How exciting is that? On top of that, now that my life is less ridiculous, my blog posts are no longer as humorous as they once were. But Facebook is a different medium and I usually have several humorous thoughts that pop into my head throughout the day that are just right for a little FB post. And over time, there are a number of people who comment on them and tell me that they enjoy my FB humor. I get a lot of attention and guess what, I kind of like it.
Meanwhile, my workplace had no fast Internet connection for the nine years I have worked here. We are old school, that is, until July when a new psychologist came to share space with us. She was the head of a couple of centers at the University of Washington and was used to living in the current decade. So Julie found a sweet deal on high speed Internet and now I am plugged in at all times. This makes many aspects of my job easier, for example, being able to submit and look up insurance claims online whether it’s a clinic day for me or not. (In the past, I saved these tasks for when I was at home.) But just like in kindergarten, I have also found myself talking too much to the kid on the carpet square next to me. And I don’t have to worry about the teacher yelling at me because I am self-employed. At home, I can even have my smartphone on the side of my bed so I don’t miss anything.
As I’ve written in the past, I am frequently reassessing and recalibrating my life according to what my responsibilities are and what I am capable of doing. I don’t regret the fun I’ve had on Facebook. And I will continue to have fun on Facebook as well as continue to write this blog. My life feels more interrupted than I would like. I typically don’t multi-task well. This was one of the bigger hurdles (another being social isolation) for me in adjusting to private practice. I see a lot of kids a year. I have no administrative support, no housekeeping staff, etc. But I had worked out a balance. I am a pretty organized person and a good planner. I can do the mundane as well as the exciting.
Last week I de-installed Facebook from my smartphone. I know better than to be on the Internet and playing with my phone when I’m in bed. I am a psychologist, for goodness sakes. Our treatments for sleep disorders have the best research support of any and that includes Ambien, people! (And if you are happy with your sleep improving strategies, I am not suggesting you change them. I am happy for you.) I know that using electronics in bed is a MAJOR NO-NO. And I have been having trouble sleeping due to stupid menopause and stress.
I miss my frequent Facebook instant gratification but guess what? I have started sleeping well again.
Protected: Reminders
Protected: I never sang for my mother
Several years ago, I read John Robison’s autobiography, Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger’s. Asperger’s is an autism spectrum disorder and without going into great detail, one of the main difficulties for individuals with this pattern of brain development is to make positive social connections with others. People with Asperger’s also typically have narrow interests, which can contribute to unusually well developed specific abilities. It is an excellent book and I love his story of transformation. John Robison is a successful businessman. Although he never graduated from high school, in the 70’s, he worked for the heavy metal band, KISS, designing their fire breathing and rocket launching guitars. He also worked designing electronic toys for Milton Bradley.
Robison was not diagnosed with Asperger’s until 16 years ago at age 40. As he got older, he gradually improved his abilities to form meaningful social connections, to make eye contact, to demonstrate empathy and perspective taking, and to have a more integrated flow of emotional, behavioral, and cognitive functioning. He remarried and found lasting love. But there were trade-offs to his transformation. Robison could no longer understand the technical designs he had previously made. Robison’s brain was able to function less narrowly which meant that he could no longer focus such a large proportion of his mental energy on his complex pyrotechnic designs. If memory serves, I believe he was happy with the trade off.
As I have written in the past, I have experienced changes in my cognition since my cancer diagnosis. Although overall, things have improved, I still have concentration difficulties and difficulties integrating information and making simple conclusions. It doesn’t happen all of the time but every so often I find myself thinking, “D’uh!” The most persistent difficulties have been with my writing mechanics. It’s not like I never made errors before because I did. But I make so many more spelling, grammatical, syntax, and punctuation errors than I used to. Sometimes I think of a word and write down something else entirely. That is a new problem. I don’t remember doing that before. It is a language processing problem and I don’t like it at all.
My writing errors have caused me variable amounts of frustration and embarrassment. However, it has not gotten in the way of my posting in my blog, anyway. The objective part of me figures that I am not a professional writer and should not hold myself to that standard. Additionally, I think I have interesting things to write and a number of people seem to like to read my blog. Finally, carefully combing through my writing for errors frankly requires more brain energy than I can spare right now. My job requires intent concentration and I just don’t have much left by the time I write my posts. Any that’s leftover really needs to go to having conversations with my family, which was something that was hard for awhile from a concentration perspective. I still have trouble following the train of thought for my husband and daughter at times. Neither of them consistently use topic sentences in their oral language. My husband often leaves the point of what he is saying until the end of a several minute explanation. In my current mind space, especially after a work day, I feel that my brain may explode. I need clues to organize what he is saying. Is it good news or bad news? Is he telling me about the status of a work project (so hard for me to follow as I am not an engineer) because he just wants to share about what he is doing or because he is going to tell me that he has to work late tonight? I feel frustrated with my brain for not being there for him as much as I’d like to be. I also sometimes get frustrated with his communication style.
I saw the book, Look Me in the Eye on my coffee table yesterday. I’d taken it off of the bookshelf to give it to one of John’s coworkers, who used to design pyrotechnics for Billy Idol. I figured he’d get a kick out of reading it. But he either forgot to bring it with him or didn’t want it because it was still on the coffee table after he left our house. When I looked at the book I remembered John Robison’s trade off and saw a parallel in my own life.
I may never get back my consistent attention to detail or all of those thinking skills on which I used to be able to rely. But I have much less anxiety and a lot more meaning in my life. I have a more interesting life. I have a lot more fun. I’d say that this trade has worked in my favor.
My Eyes Are Up Here 