Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Fledglings

Fledglings

This past weekend, I went back to Caron Treatment Center where I had gone for treatment this time last year.  Every Sunday they have a chapel service led by Father Bill.  There is a sermon about addiction every week and music performed by patients.  They offer the Eucharist and they give out anniversary coins.  I went to celebrate my year there and get my coin because it was a place of great healing for me and it seemed so much more symbolic to return there.
Father Bill is a Catholic Priest like no other.  He talks about addiction in a really down-to-earth fashion pulling no punches.  The language is not soft as the subject is life and death for those who suffer and for the family members of the afflicted, themselves sickened by the condition.  The purpose behind the service is to educate and to be as inclusive and welcoming as possible.  There are readings from the Torah and there is a Native American prayer offered.  When the Eucharist is offered it is offered to all that believe in a higher powers who choose to take it.  Father Bill makes a point of citing his opinions on those in the congregation who are gay, that persecution of them is wrong and that they are to be loved and embraced and validated.  It is a truly powerful event.
I invited people from my life who have been through this past year with me to attend and the turnout was almost overwhelming.  In addition to myself, Dermot, Wren and Frank, there were fifteen people who made the icy journey to Wernersville, Pa.  One of my college roommates drove ten hours from Indiana with the man in her life to be there for me.  My other college roommate drove through the snow with her husband from the DC area taking a journey that normally take 2-3 hours which ended up taking them seven!  My in-laws were there as were some of my other friends, my sponsor and her husband and friends of the family.  I felt surrounded by love and support and it was a testament to the people who truly matter in my life for all they have been through with me and all they have offered along the way.
I asked my children to present me with my coin and they readily agreed.  They then decided that they wanted to give speeches, which I was so impressed by.  They worked on them for a few days and I warned them that there would be 200 plus people there and that if they decided that was too overwhelming that it was ok to not stand up, it would not mean any less to me.  To my surprise, my out-going son was the one who started to be nervous and my quiet little girl was the one who pushed to do it despite the crowd.  In the end they read it together with Wren leading the charge as Frank held her up to the microphone, and their doing so nearly brought me to my knees.  I was so proud of them and I have had many reasons to be proud of them over the years, but this one took the cake.
Though they were a hard act to follow, I read "The Queen Who Saved Herself", the story I had written for them in an attempt to explain my addiction to them in terms they might find easier to deal with.  I had asked that the people who came for me stand beside me in an attempt to illustrate that you cannot do this alone.  I was able to thank Caron and those who helped me along the way and it was simply a powerful and inspiring experience.
I know there are people who would question including our children in such a heavy event, what with the topic and the strong language.  I understand the hesitation but Frank and I felt very strongly about it.  After all they have first-hand experience with the affects of addiction.  It has caused them pain and they understand more about it than the average person.  I don't think it would be respectful of them to leave them out of the celebration when they had been to the depths with me already.
I think that we don't often give children credit for what they understand.  They get it far more often than not and I think it is much healthier to be open about these things so that if they do get confused and have questions, they know it is safe to ask.  I would rather they ask than have misinformation fester and malform in their minds.  That happens all too often.
We made a decision to include their brother Liam in our dialogue from the beginnings of their lives.  We could not imagine not doing so because to pretend that Liam did not exist would be to do his soul such dishonor.  Similarly we did not want for Dermot and Wren to think that should something ever happen to them that they would be forgotten.  It means that they are much more familiar with death than most children and they, I hope, see it as a natural part of life rather than something mysterious and strange.
I made a decision this year, with Frank's blessing, to talk to Dermot about my childhood trauma.  He is the same age I was when it began.  I did so in the vaguest of terms so as a not to frighten him but I wanted for him to know that abuse of that kind exists in this world and help him understand what he needs to be safe.  I wanted to explain that often people who do these things will tell you to keep it a secret and will sometimes threaten to hurt your family if you tell.  I wanted him to know that wasn't true, you should always say something, always tell.  It was a difficult conversation for sure, but one he heard fully.  He was sad I had been through something like that, but he knows now we can talk about anything, he knows now he can tell, he knows now you can rise above it.  I plan to have the same conversation with Wren too when she is a bit older.
I think the more we talk to our kids about these things, and the more we show we are vulnerable too, the better informed they become, the better equipped and the more open the communication.  Hopefully it will help these two fledglings rise.

Friday, February 20, 2015

But the Doctor Said

But the Doctor Said

Yesterday was a good day.  I was so happy to have a year anniversary to celebrate.  I got so much love and support and I meant it when I said that I was happy.  I had the day off not because I was going to celebrate, but because a while ago I had scheduled a colonoscopy.  When I realized the date, I had to laugh, so symbolic of "out with the old."
I won't go into details on the colonoscopy or the prep for it to spare you all.  Suffice it to say that as I told a friend, I am pretty sure that if Dante was alive today he would have colonoscopy prep as one of his upper levels of hell.  Frank brought me to the hospital at 6:30 am and I was set to have the procedure at 7:30 am.  I had been up all night and so I was tired when I got checked in by various nurses and got undressed etc... And I was nervous because I had to be put under and being in recovery, this makes me uneasy.
When I had the screening appointment I told them I was in recovery.  I made them write it down.  I asked if I could remain awake as I had seen Katie Couric do for her infamous colonoscopy on broadcast, but was told that would not be an option since I would also be having an upper endoscopy at the same time.  I asked what they would give me since I was in recovery and I was assured that I could go over all that with the anesthesiologist.  I reiterated this when I called to schedule the procedure, when they called to reconfirm and when I arrived early yesterday morning.  Each time I was told that I could talk to the anesthesiologist.
So when I was laid out on the gurney to get my IV placed, the anesthesiologist came in and I perked up and announced I was anxious to speak to her.  I told her I was in recovery and she looked blankly at me for a second and said, "in recovery from what?"  I explained that I was an alcoholic and wanted to make sure that what ever she planned to give me wasn't going to cause me problems.  Her answer to that was a rather snarky, "Well, I'm not going to be giving you alcohol, if that is what you mean."
That wasn't what I had meant at all and I was so taken aback by her bedside manner that I began to get upset.  I pushed and said I was afraid that what she planned on giving me was going to hurt my recovery, trip my neuro-transmitters and that I had been told from the beginning of my recovery to ALWAYS tell health care professionals that I was in recovery to avoid that.  She went on in her very condescending way to say that the reason they needed to know was that they would need to adjust the dosage because I would likely need more than the average person as I have a higher tolerance.  She went on to say that in terms of tripping me up in recovery that all she could tell me was that when I left the hospital I had choices.  I could choose to use or not.
I started to cry at that point.  Here I was at a very hard won year, trying desperately to do the right thing and protect that year and the years to come and it seemed like my young children had more knowledge and compassion about addiction than this woman.  This woman is not only an adult, she is a health care professional but beyond that she is an anesthesiologist, a person who specializes in the medicines that alter moods and the mind!
Frank came back to see me before the procedure and saw that I was upset and asked how the conversation had gone.  I told him and said that in the end I had been told that she would be using propofol.  He started to say that if I wasn't comfortable that I had the option to get up and leave.  At this point the nurse anesthetist overheard us and wanted to know what the issue was.  I asked again if what I was being given was going to be an issue and she told us that propofol was not as big a habit forming drug because it is not easily come by, it isn't something you can buy on the streets or run across in someone's medicine cabinet.  Then she mentioned that they would also be using Valium and Ketamine, but that shouldn't be an issue because they are benzodiazepines and I wasn't in recover from them.  Well we had to tell them that indeed I had taken those in addiction, though my main addiction was alcohol and I happened to know that they are both highly habit forming.  Even if I had not taken them in an addictive fashion, the fact that I am an alcoholic should negate them being used at all.
We finally got it sorted out and they did use propofol but not the benzodiazepines.  What a mess though and what an unpleasant struggle.  I have met too many people in recovery that have been taken in by pain meds prescribed to them by doctors.  They become addicted fast and it leads either to continuing with these pills, getting them in any way they can or leads them to try heroine because it is cheaper and easier to come by.
I think back a few months when I needed a root canal because I had a chipped tooth that led to an exposed nerve.  I was at the dentist's office when they offered me Vicodin for the pain.  I had told one of them I was in recovery and I hadn't even said I was in pain at that point, but they were more than happy to write me a script that I didn't need nor did I want.  It frightens me that the medical community is so ready to just write us scripts and send us on our merry way.
Now don't get me wrong, I know that all doctors, dentists, nurses and health care professionals are not like this, but there is an overriding theme.  I used to be a person who would not question doctors.  Frank and I laugh about this difference in us.  I remember years ago talking to him about a prescription I knew his doctor had given him.  I wanted to know if the medicine was helping him or not.  He told me he had not filled it yet because he wasn't sure he was going to take it. I think my brain completely rearranged itself when he said that because it would never have occurred to me that I had a choice.  I remember stammering, "but, but, the doctor said..."
Well I need to question more.  I need to continue to gather knowledge and I definitely need to keep writing and speaking about addiction.  If I can affect change in even a small circle and shift our common thinking about addiction then the suffering I felt and that my family felt may not have been in vain.  If I can lessen the stigma surrounding addiction so that people, including the ignorant among the health care professionals, can have a bit of compassion and understanding, then I will feel accomplished and blessed.  My first plan of action will be to call the hospital I was at yesterday and talk to them about my experience and offer to help them educate their staff.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Once Was Lost...

Once Was Lost...


It has been a year.  On a very simple level, it has been a year without alcohol or pills or mood altering substances that were no stronger than coffee and chocolate.  It has also been a year away, away from home and living with Frank and the kids.  A year alone yet connected.  On a more complex level it has been a year of discovery, a year of greater understanding, a year of hard work, sadness, joy and transcendence and what a year it has been.  Here are some things that I have learned...
In the beginning of this past year I longed for forgiveness.  I have done things about which I am not proud and I came into this year desperately seeking redemption and forgiveness.  In order to receive forgiveness I first had to learn to love and forgive myself.  I am not worthy of the forgiveness of others if I don't see myself worthy of my own.  Once I began to forgive myself, I moved on to forgiving others.  It follows that if I want the forgiveness of others then I must first be prepared to give it myself.  Once I began to do that, it almost didn't matter of I got forgiveness from others.  It is lovely to receive it, but knowing that I forgive myself and have worked on forgiving others means it no longer carries so much weight if others don't feel they can give it back.
I learned that once I stopped lying to myself, then it made it all the harder to lie to others.  I learned that telling the truth may have been and sometimes still is, hard, but lying is exhausting and tears at the lining of my soul.  I see all of myself now and I can no more deny my flaws than I can my triumphs.
I have also learned that there is a certain amount of freedom in discipline.  If I do the things that I know will help me in whatever aspect of my life, then I have the freedom to enjoy the benefits.  If I am disciplined about the things that keep me sober, then I have the freedom to enjoy myself guilt-free and gracefully.  If I am disciplined about writing then I have the freedom to enjoy the feelings of accomplishment and intellectual freedom that it brings.  If I put my keys in the same place each night when I come home then I am free to drive my car whenever I need to.  If I am disciplined about "wunning" then I will be free to enjoy better health.  I am still working on that one!
I came into this past year bedraggled and barren of self-esteem.  In order for me to gain self-esteem I followed a mantra I heard in the rooms of my twelve step program, "If you want self-esteem, start doing esteem-able things."  It was hard for me to hold my head up high when I had nothing to hold my head up high about.  It was easier to do once I embarked on doing things right and doing things for others and doing things with good intent.
I have found this year that as Brene Brown says, there is power in vulnerability.  Once I made a decision to let people see me as I am rather than what I thought I should show to everyone, I got so much in return.  It turns out that people are relieved to hear that you are flawed because then they can admit they are as well and honestly, what a relief that is.  When I am vulnerable with someone it encourages them to be so with me as well and we start to see each other on the same level, one person is not greater than or less than the other, we just are.  When I am vulnerable with someone invariably I get love and support in return.
I have a learned a lot about how I see religion and spirituality.  I have learned that I know next to nothing and that makes it easier to listen and glean and posit and question.  Knowing that I know next to nothing makes me full of wonder about it all.  I have learned that basically religion is an interpretation of how we think we should live our lives, of how we should go forth into the unknown with love and tolerance.  What people do in the name of religion may or may not be good, but honestly I think we are all human beings trying to figure out how to be and the rest is just semantics.
Going along with the theme of religion and spirituality, I have learned that praying is powerful.  To me, praying is a form of meditation.  It allows me to stop and think a problem through quietly and from all angles.  If I can quietly reflect on a problem or a person with whom I am having a problem, I am able to see it from angles I had not thought of before.  I am able to see another person's point of view more clearly and even if I don't like it, then I at least gain some compassion for them.  It makes the going forward all the more peaceful.
My daughter taught me that "now" is all that matters.  All I have is "now" so I will ruin it if I use it to worry about things I can't change or control.  I need to assess continually while I am in the moment so I am not wasting it on the trivialities that face me daily and are liable to trip me up.  If I can make sure I am doing what matters more often than doing what doesn't then I will have gained.
My son taught me that you can be angry with something that someone has done but love them just the same.  I had always seen any anger turned toward me as rejection and therefore either avoided confrontation, or tried to be as good as possible or lied to cover up the things I thought would cause such rejection.  I have learned this year that the people who count the most in my life should be able to say that they are angry and that doesn't mean that they will leave me.
Similarly, my husband has taught me that boundaries are not rejection either.  You can love someone without letting them walk all over you or be a destructive presence in your life.  He has taught me that change may be scary but it has benefits that surpass all my expectations and dreads.  He has taught me that the most confident among us can be the most wounded and that though the journey may be hard and long, the destination promises to be well worth the hardship.
I have learned that I no longer have room for fear and anxiety in my life.  If something makes me anxious or uncomfortable, then I need to address it quickly.  If I don't it will only grow and become larger than it really is.  If I don't then it will consume my thoughts and ruin my "now."
I have learned to be patient with others in a way that I never have been able to do before in my life.  It is easy to look at someone making a mistake or about to and want to shake them into knowing what I know, but there were plenty of people in my life who tied to do the same for me and it was to no avail.  All I can do is be an example and be an ear for when they are ready to talk.  I can give advice if and when it is sought.  I can't begrudge their journey, nor can I control their outcome.
I know now that though I do none of these things perfectly, I find them easier then ever before.  I know now that my basic structure is good even if I have dimples and pimples and flaws galore.  I have learned that just because I was lacking something in my past it does not mean I can't have it in my future, it just may not look like the Hallmark version.  I have learned that if I tell myself I am unlimited, then I am and I don't have to wait for someone to tell me it is so.  I have learned that I can do all these things because I am not the first, they have been done before so it is not impossible.  I have learned that I am perfectly flawed and beautifully human and ever so grateful for the love and support that surrounds me everyday.  I am humbled and I am sober and I am happy.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Un-Boiling the Egg

Un-Boiling the Egg

I saw a headline the other day that scientists at the University of California at Irvine have developed a process to un-boil and egg.  I at first thought, "who cares and why waste time and money researching something so foolish," and I dismissed it.  Then a few days later I saw another article in my needs feed about it and I decided to read it.
It was actually pretty interesting and the machine and process will help in reducing the costs of cancer research among other things.  Apparently the protein in raw eggs is nicely folded, but when it is boiled the proteins aggregate and tangle and become densely, packed hence the change to hard-boiled.  They developed a way to untangle these proteins and allow them to refold.  They say that it doesn't turn back into an egg that you would want to cook and eat, but the core protein is there and can be used.
It got me thinking and it now seems so symbolic of my own current journey.  Here I am trying to change.  Here I am trying to undo some of the things of the past.  I don't mean that I am trying to erase the wrongs I have done or that have been done to me, but I am trying to untangle them, refold them in a way that takes up less space in my life. I am trying to go back to my basic self, my core being, the place I was when I was born innocent and full of innate goodness and hope.
Carl Jung talked about Self as differentiated from Ego.  I follow his theory that we are all born with a Self and that over time as we develop, grow and experience; our Ego forms and shapes us through the events of our lives - this would be the boiling.  Jung also talks about the process of individuation.  This is the process of an individual returning to Self, bypassing ones Ego which generally happens after the personality is in some way wounded - this would be the un-boiling.
Well, I was hard-boiled for sure and have been wounded for sure.  When science is telling me that they can reverse the boiling it gives me hope.  I can be un-boiled.  I can untangle myself from my ego and go back to being myself.  The third step prayer in AA talks about being relieved from the bondage of self, this to me is another example of un-boiling.
Who am I really?  I am loud, I am awkward, I am funny, I am wise, I am motherly, I am loving, I am vulnerable, I am brave, I am frightened, I am bold.  I am all these things and more.  I am Fiona.  I can only be Fiona and Fiona has always been.  I have to let labels go, let pre-conceived notions go, let woulda, coulda, shoulda go.  I need to let the true story of myself unfold without trying to fit into some one else's narrative.  No more do I wish I could be like so and so, I wish simply to be me; un-boiled.        

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

She Never Lost a Sock

She Never Lost a Sock

This past weekend was busy but good.  In fact the past several weekends have really been good.  I have spent most of the time at the house with Frank and the kids.  There have been basketball games, birthday parties, triathlon trainings, hosted breakfasts, coffees with friends and time together.  It has been happily chaotic.
One thing I have noticed are my changing expectations of myself and life in general.  In the past I have been so hard on myself and by default those around me to have the perfectly picked up house, the perfectly put together dinner for guests, the over the top offering at the classroom party.  I put a lot of pressure on myself and Frank and the kids to get it just so.  They could never do it the way I really wanted it done so then I would just try and do it all myself.  Then I would be resentful because I wasn't getting any help and there wasn't enough time and then I was disappointed in myself and all this would spiral.  All this annoyance and resentment and time spent trying to make it just so meant I wasn't spending so much time with everyone else.  Frank has been trying to point this out to me for years, but I couldn't hear the message from him.
It is still my instinct to clean the kitchen before I start to cook because I want to start with a clean slate and it is always going to be my instinct to tidy up.  The difference I am starting to see now is that I have different expectations of how things should be or more specifically I have nearly no expectations.  Things are just going to be.  If things need to be tidied up then everyone can help and it doesn't have to be my way or if there is no time, then there is no time and things won't get tidied up.  Teaching the kids to take care of things at their level is important too and if they put their clothes in different drawers than I would, then at least they are learning to put them away and does it really matter anyway?
Cooking for the family is something that I really enjoy.  Living alone in the apartment I hardly ever cook.  I came to realize that cooking for me is an expression of love and nurturing.  What I hadn't noticed was that others enjoy it as well.  Frank has always enjoyed to cook and I had pushed him out of the kitchen over time.  Then the other weekend we were making meat balls together and as Frank has such a natural ability to do, he included Wren in the task and showed her how to mix the meat and eggs.  She stood on a stool at the counter and plunged her washed hands right in and started to cackle with delight.  She was elated, she chatted away and was so proud of the result.
A few weekends later she and I made some pumpkin chocolate chip bread and for the first time I didn't rush her through the steps because I was trying to get onto the next task and thinking it would be much easier if I just did it myself.  We chatted and laughed and measured and mixed and it was lovely.  She came home later in the week with a story she had written in class all about how she had baked this gingerbread with her mom.  She wrote this long essay about it and how happy it had made her and how much fun she had had with her mommy and how much she loves me and she got a high score from her teacher.  She gave me the essay and told me to keep it.  I read it and wept because she tells me in the essay that I am the best mommy in the whole world and I didn't expect to hear that this year.  So what was Wren able to teach me that Frank has been trying to tell me for years?  Slow down; enjoy the moment; nothing has to be perfect...  They say that when the student is ready the teacher appears...
Frank has a basket in the laundry room for unmatched socks now.  I commented on it a while ago and Frank said he finds he is always losing socks when he does laundry.  He mentioned that I never lost socks and that he didn't know how I did it.  Honestly who cares.  I don't want to pride myself on the tracking of socks, I don't want my tombstone to read, "She never lost a sock."  I want my children to say I taught them more than organizational skills and time management.  I want them to say that I made them feel loved and listened to and validated like their father does.   So this past weekend Wren and I went to an animal shelter to volunteer because that is her passion.  We baked cookies and I had her do the whole thing from reading the recipe, to getting the ingredients out and separating the eggs.  She was thrilled.  After I showed her how to level the baking powder I put it back in the can and said, now you do it and she laughed and said, "Wow, Mama, you are really letting me do the WHOLE thing!" It took us a lot longer than if I had done it myself, but we made more than cookies, we made memories.  She also did some chores with me and when we took the recycling out I asked her if she minded helping me get a couple of things done before we baked and she said, "It's like Mary Poppins, you can make anything fun if you do it together."