I grew up thinking that doctors were gods. My parents believed they had all the answers and could do no wrong— especially men doctors.
I was also painfully shy so when my gut told me to ask more questions my brain said, ‘Who do you think you are, challenging a doctor?’
Fast forward to 1993. I’d just answered the phone. The voice on the other end was cold and detached. “I have your MRI results.”
I held my breath.
‘I’m sorry,” the voice said. “You have MS.”
I crumpled to the floor. “What about the pinched nerve?” I cried. “What about my kids? What am I supposed to DO?”
I was 33. My ex-husband was long gone with his new life in Europe. Our three small children and I were on our own.
This doctor just gave me a death sentence over the phone. That’s how I felt, and I knew he knew it. How could he be so insensitive as to not look me in the eye, offer support and explain what MS was—I barely knew. Such cowardice!
On that day thirty years ago, I promised myself that I would never be so uninformed and trusting again. Since then, I go to doctors appointments prepared with lots of questions. It helps me make sense of what I’m going through, what options they’re considering and why. I have great respect for doctors, I simply demand the same in return.
Most evenings we watch an hour or so of TV. It’s such a refreshing change from the intensity of our work days. The problem is, since Covid halted production of our favourites we’ve been struggling to find stuff we like.
After watching a documentary on Betty White we wondered if we should try her old sitcom— The Golden Girls. But 40 years later, how funny could it be?
What a surprise. It’s hilarious! Unlike many old shows, The Golden Girls themes are still relevant today. Each episode focuses on personal and societal issues that challenge their peaceful life, their expectations of how things should be, including their friendship. Whether they address romance, sexual misconduct, homophobia, death … they guide you through serious topics laughing. Like taking a, ‘Spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down.’
What I found most striking is the unconditional love these four women have for each other. Despite differences in personality, socioeconomic status, intellect, lifestyle choices, they never judge each other, no matter what. That doesn’t mean they don’t get angry or insulting. They lose their temper all the time but with humour and empathy. They never lose sight of what matters most —their love for each other. That’s why the insults don’t bother them. Instead they respond with curiosity as they consider the underlying message.
I love the way they comfortably express their commitment to each other and how it enables a sense of security and forgiveness when things get out of hand.
Is it realistic? I think so, but it’s rare. That’s no reason to discount the message. We know that relationships can be hard and complicated. Good communication and letting-go of our need to defend ourselves takes work and practice.
This show features brilliant comedians, but more importantly it portrays qualities and values we still strive for today like respect, empathy, acceptance and self compassion.
I’m reflecting a bit more on all my friendships, the ones that faded and the ones that endure. What do you cherish most about your friendships? Can you comfortably express anything without fear of hurting, or of being hurt or judged? It’s not easy, but isn’t this what love is all about?
My stomach was in knots. I was about to get my hair cut! No, I wasn’t afraid of getting a new style, I was afraid of falling in the parking lot as I made my way inside the salon or even falling once inside. MS is so unpredictable!
It’s happened too many times over the years. Often at home but also on a busy street, at the pharmacy, someone’s house. Once I was exiting a store with a bagful of groceries, I tripped on a tiny lip in the floor and then I went on autopilot. It goes like this, I scream, my arms go up and out to break my fall so that everything I’m holding goes flying in all directions, sometimes I twist my body to make sure I land on a shoulder or hip to avoid hitting my head. I find it fascinating to watch my survival instinct kick in (after the crisis has passed). I’m always moved by the kindness of strangers when in this case they gathered all my runaway food and made sure I was ok.
Since Covid I rarely go out alone. I work from home, see clients on Zoom. Stephen does all the shopping and errands. To be honest, he’s been doing that for years however we always have fun shopping together when schedules permit.
He offered to drive and escort me inside, but I refused. Driving provides me a rare sense of movement, freedom, independence. My best decision ever was to install hand controls in my car nine years ago.
Walking is another story. Lately at home I use the furniture or a walker for support. The walker seat works as a table to transport drinks, food, my phone or work… great for everything except walking. Trekking poles enable me to stand up straight, in proper alignment, whereas it’s easy to lean on the walker which can aggravate my back from being bent over. I decided to use trekking poles for this excursion despite being exclusively on the walker all year.
Another scary prospect.
I took a deep breath, turned on the car radio and absorbed every minute of the wonderful drive. In the parking lot I noticed an elderly couple sitting by the entrance and another woman on a nearby bench. I hung my disabled sticker, put on my mask, grabbed my purse and poles and opened the car door.
I stood there for a while trying to figure out the safest way to the entrance. The shorter route meant taking a big step up to the sidewalk, the longer route up a steep incline (for wheelchairs). I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. The heat didn’t help. Like most people with MS I am heat intolerant.
Within minutes I felt numb, weak and unsteady.
The man from the table and woman on the bench jumped to my aid. I accepted gratefully. Phew! Step one complete.
Turns out the bench lady was MJ, the assistant who washed my hair. She stayed close as I maneuvered my way around the salon ( just in case). Before I let my hair grow to its natural grey/white I was a regular every 6 weeks for years. It‘s like a big family there, I knew they’d understand and support me. That was how I reassured myself that going would be ok no matter what— my backup plan. Without asking, MJ helped me back to my car after a fun reunion with the gang inside.
It was a great day. It felt so good to be out by myself. I learned just like with every other challenging decision that I can stay safe and protected or go for it. I prefer to face fear and go for it, as long as I have a backup plan.
Stephen and I were talking about resilience, looking for a story to illustrate letting go, acceptance and courage. You might think it normal that my mother came to mind, but it surprised me.
With all the drama in my life, I’ve earned my share of resilience and courage, but Mom’s life was all about comfort and security. Sheltered from real world problems, all her needs were provided for and important decisions made for her. She was born to have the best, safest life and do what was expected —raise a family. It was normal for her to depend on the men in her life rather than herself. That’s just the way it was. Even SHE didn’t question it.
So no, resilience and courage have never been words I’d associate with her. In fact, I always felt bad for her, not experiencing the value of earning money, contributing to society, taking ‘risks’. It is after all how we grow.
And yet today, she is my inspiration! At 91 she faces more than discomfort and insecurity, and it’s OK. Until recently, being alone —especially at night, was her greatest fear!
Now with Covid she’s alone more than ever. Except for the caregiver who comes for an hour or two to prepare meals and tidy up, she’s pretty much on her own.
Something changed in her. She finally discovered her own power and really likes it! She’s more confident to make her own decisions. Her mind is sharp and active, playing bridge on the computer and chatting with family. Just using her computer is an amazing feat for people of her generation. I’m so proud of her.
She only lives in the present moment, proudly acknowledging it. She doesn’t want to waste a second in the past or future. We often see this attitude in older people (but not always), as well as in people with chronic illness or a scary diagnosis. Life is too precious and short to take anything for granted. This is one trait we have in common.
She expresses gratitude for every single day, never complaining about being alone, or relentless excruciating back pain as it literally disintegrates, or her frightening COPD (caused by childhood whooping cough) and other illnesses of the aged. I could learn this from her.
She’d rather laugh, learn and enjoy her 9 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren. Video chats are a lifesaver. Besides keeping her mind active she follows a daily regimen of exercises to keep her body moving too.
Now I can say without a doubt, that my mother is resilient, courageous—and even mindful. She embraces it all. Perhaps she has been my role model after all!
‘I’m sorry ma ‘ my 38 year old son blurted during a video chat.
‘What for honey?’ I was confused. We were just giggling over the latest exciting milestone of his adorable 15 month old — my first grandchild.
‘For all the sleepless nights I caused you. And the worry! And figuring out everything I need… he said rubbing his eyes through a yawn. ‘Now I get it! But what I don’t get is how you did this four times!’
Ahhh music to my ears. I’m sure I used the old line ’just wait till you have your own kids’, once or twice, but did I hold my breath? Nope. And yet, it was one of the best moments EVER!
I loved raising my children. Yes it felt like a thankless job, but it wasn’t really. Seeing them happy and thriving was thanks enough, until now. I didn’t realize how big a deal it was, how much I appreciated being appreciated!
As a relationship coach, the lack of appreciation or an inability to express appreciation is a major source of conflict in couples. Respect, appreciation, trust, honesty are among the essential life skills we learn in childhood from our primary role models’ actions. Sometimes parents take the shortcut approach ‘do as I say, not as I do’. It never works.
So when my son ‘apologizes’ with newfound appreciation, my heart is full. And when my daughter— also a new mother, chuckles as she catches herself behaving in the same irritating way as me —flicking hair off her baby’s face, I am beyond thrilled. She ‘gets’ it too!
Being appreciated is one thing, being told that you are appreciated is another. Direct and honest conversation about emotions are vital to healthy relationships. Sometimes a simple thank you can make a huge difference. Look inward and reflect on these two questions: Do you feel appreciated? Do you express your appreciation enough?
Joking aside, watching these young new parents show humility, integrity and appreciation tells me they’ll be great role models. Nothing is more important to a child’s healthy development.
Everyone’s suffering from Covid in some way or another. We feel helpless, anxious and overwhelmed. While it’s easy to commiserate with each other about what we’ve lost, gratitude mitigates these difficult feelings by paying attention to what we are gaining—resilience, courage, integrity, acceptance, love….
We’re afraid of focusing on the negative because it can make things worse. However, seeing the negative for what it is— your negative thought patterns spinning out of control—rather than being stuck in it, gratitude has the effect of freeing you.
For example, I’ve been worrying for the last year about my 25-year old daughter who went down to Florida just before the pandemic to care for her new nephew, and is still there. She’s socially isolated, but has noticed that many people aren’t, and don’t even wear masks. She wants to avoid the close-quarters of airports and airplanes, but she’s anxious by nature and nervous about driving alone. The thought conjures up visions of awful weather and dangerous conditions—her car will break down, she’ll be exposed to Covid, she’ll have trouble at the border. Mostly, she’s scared of bringing the virus home because I’m high-risk.
She blames Covid for keeping her stuck down there but really, it’s self-doubt.
How does gratitude help? I shared with her my own hair-raising adventures in Europe, driving alone long before cell phones and GPS. I used to be so timid, but this adventure made me bold and courageous, no longer risk-averse. I see a glimmer of pride in her eyes as she recalls the difficulties she’s overcome in Quebec’s harsh winter driving conditions: freezing rain, snow storms, ice-storms and whiteouts. She’s beginning to appreciate that our harsh climate has made her strong.
There’s technology to be grateful for too. We can chat anytime while she’s en route. We’re also thankful for her time there, bonding with her brother for the first time (they’re thirteen years apart). She’s grateful for the experience of caring for her new-born nephew, with whom she’s honed her empathy, her communication skills and her creative thinking. It’s all win-win!
Through all this she’s become an impressive baker, posting mouth-watering photos online and strategically preparing for a place in the food industry while she pursues her studies. Considering all this again and again, her anxiety is fading. I think she’ll soon face her fears and come home. Gratitude is powerful. Use generously!
I first realized how terrifying MS symptoms could be when I was in my early thirties, standing at my bathroom mirror frantically trying to rub off dark spots with a cloth. I eventually realized the spots weren’t on the mirror. I was losing my vision. About an hour later, everything was dark. I was blind.
“Your optic nerve is inflamed,” said my doctor. “It should go away”. “Should?”
Fortunately my vision returned ten days later—but I now knew the optic neuritis could show up any time.
Shift forward a few years. I’m standing at the podium of a high school auditorium. An audience of teenagers staring at me as I talk about my just-released book, Crossed Signals — a novel for teens that addresses the emotional impact of chronic illness on the whole family, and the power of good communication.
That day in front of all those teenagers was one of the scariest of my life—but it turned out to be one of the best too!
My vision wasn’t perfect on the morning of my presentation, but I was used to dealing with it and wasn’t ready to put my life on hold. I was already a bit nervous because that’s how I feel about public speaking, but as I tried to find my way to this new place about 45 minutes from home—without GPS—I realized I couldn’t read the road signs any more.
Looking back I guess I was reckless, but when you have MS, you do what you can while you can still do it. All this was so new and exciting for me, I decided to go for it!
I finally got there and it all started out well. I could see them sitting on their seats but I couldn’t make out faces. It was bizarre. I ignored the strangeness of the situation and continued to address the room, but when it came to Q&A I panicked. In that moment I knew that they HAD to know what was going on. I explained the situation. Boy, did that get their attention! They were shocked and curious to discover that they were witnessing an MS attack. They asked all kinds of questions about my experiences with MS as well as the process of writing the book, and then the conversation shifted to them telling ME (and their peers) personal stories of family members, grandparents, uncles, siblings…all dealing with chronic illness. I was amazed at how everyone was touched by this topic in some way.
For a little while that auditorium became a support group. It was beautiful to watch these curious, caring young people share their thoughts and feelings. They obviously felt safe and trusting to share ( that’s always my goal). What an incredible experience to see how they really did understand the book’s message. It was more than anyone expected. There was laughter, tears and love in that school auditorium. I will always cherish that day.
When relationships are under conditions of isolation, uncertainty and anxiety, it might feel like you’re drifting on the ocean without a rudder.
Even under the best conditions relationships are hard work—and then stuff happens.
I was telling Stephen a story the other day when he just walked away. He looked bored. I felt he’d deliberately tuned me out. OUCH! I took it personally.
This came just after we’d remarked on how well we were getting on during our social isolation, and how grateful we were for it! I’d been trying to be especially mindful of our relationship that day.
But a feeling’s a feeling. He pushed my “I’m not important enough” button.
This has happened before. It’s part of our relationship ‘dance.’ The button is not new. It’s just under the surface, waiting to go off. It’s up to me to recognize my button it before it’s set off, to swap my usual reactivity for something more thoughtful and productive
I took a breath and set my intention: to examine my reactivity and not take it personally.That’s like swimming upstream, which is why taking a breath now is so helpful.
When I have that balance it’s easier to see what’s really going on inside. Then I thought about what he was going through.
Then I asked myself some questions:
Q: Was he deliberately trying to hurt me?
A: Duh no! He is one of the most kind and gentle souls I know. Like everyone, he carries emotional baggage, and he reacts to me pushing his vulnerable buttons too.
Q: Did he really hear me?
A: His hearing is not 100% so maybe not. He can be distracted, or overwhelmed by my brain’s rapid-fire flow of ideas. That’s my bad. I get very enthusiastic about brainstorming out loud.
Q: If I just let it go,would he learn that it’s okay to be like that in the future?
A: Based on the fact that we are 99% of the time respectful and polite, probably not.
Q: What would a wise elder say?
A: Look inward, especially to my “I’m not important enough” button. That’s the actual source of the hurt. I take a good look at my need to defend myself, and look at how things turn out. That shows you the price of being right, as opposed to letting go of the hurt and addressing it with humor and love.
I chose humour because it’s freeing, and it works. I told Stephen how I felt honestly and directly—but in a playful way. He responded beautifully.
I want to do it every time, but sometimes I don’t. I’m human. But as I always tell my clients, the more you practice the easier it gets.
Rather than beat myself up or stew in discomfort, I do something that feels good like write, exercise or play with my cats and try again.
The fire was crackling. The Pinot Noir was delightful. I was catching-up with an old friend. She poured her third glass and sighed. “Did you know that in fifteen years of marriage my husband has apologized…oh, maybe twice?”
“You’re joking?” I said. “We’ve been friends forever. How did I not know? I thought you guys were great!”
“Yup,” she shrugged. “Never wrong. In his mind there’s nothing to apologize for.”
She seemed too relaxed about it. “Really?” I said. “You believe that?”
She snapped, “Of course not! It’s just easier this way. Keeps the peace. Who needs confrontation?” “Sounds hard,” I said.
She went silent—I got the impression she’d never said it out loud before. ”So,” I probed, “what happens to all your stored-up resentment?”
She looked ashamed, but the wine was loosening her tongue. “What can I do? I don’t have the energy to deal with him.” “So instead of finding the energy, you hang on to the resentment. How much energy does that take?”
She stared. I wasn’t sure if she was going to burst into tears or throw something at me. One way or another, I’d touched a nerve. I stuck my neck out a little farther. “You can let it go, you know. Make a few changes.”
“Changes?” she laughed bitterly. “He won’t change!”
“Not him,you! It’s not your job to change him. You’re half of the relationship. What’s your part in him being always right? Maybe you can change that.” She was still staring downward.
“Accepting the unacceptable is ‘enabling’. I bet he has no idea how upset you really are.”
“I’ve told him a thousand times. He doesn’t listen!” Now she was angry. “Why are you dragging this up anyway? He’s a good man. We love each other. We’re OK. Next subject?”
I reached for the bottle wiped the neck, and topped up her glass, then mine. I put the bottle down, and chuckled. “Hey, you brought it up.” She nodded her head up and down and side to side trying not to smile. “Okay, okay.”
“Looks like you can’t keep it in any longer. How does it feel sharing this with me?”
She looked perplexed. “Good and bad. I hate all this negativity, but I do feel better.” She took a sip. “I took it out on you. Sorry.” “Apology accepted. I’m sorry you’re going through this, but I’m glad you’re not alone anymore.”
“Wow! Two apologies in five minutes and no bad feelings. It’s scary, but you’re right—I’m ready for change. I can’t keep this up much longer. It’s ruining the way I feel about him, about myself. I don’t want to end the marriage, but I don’t want to enable him and I’m sick and tired of resenting him.”
“ I’ll bet he doesn’t even know he’s not listening. His dismissive attitude towards you is a defensive reaction to something that may not have anything to do with you. We all have our ‘buttons’. What are his? What are yours?”
“I never thought about it like that!” She looked teary.
“Take baby steps. You don’t have to say anything, at least for now. Just pay attention to your feelings. What are your hopes and fears? What do you do with them? Explore your relationship.”
I’m increasingly horrified by the reality TV Show that politics has become. Canada’s next-door neighbour, who I’ve always regarded as a friend, is turning from democracy to demagoguery. It scares me.
The worst is seeing myself obsess with rage at every news cycle. This is not who I want to be!
It’s time to coach myself! First I have to come up with a ‘goal’ to help me stay focused on what I want and what is in my way.
Goal: to stop obsessing about politics so that I can enjoy more emotional balance.
What’s in my way? Or put another way, what triggers my destructive reaction? That’s clear; it’s feeling helpless and trapped.
The next step is to go inward to identify the fears at the root of these triggers. I need to know what to let go of.
This part is not so easy. It means looking back at the way I interpreted and coped with stress growing up. Looking objectively, I can see patterns that I never noticed before. There’s a link between feeling not good enough with a sense of helplessness and being trapped. A fear of not being independent.
Even today my chronic disease triggers helplessness and being trapped. I manage it quite well, most of the time. Now I understand how these ideas evolved.
Next I identify and strengthen the emotional ‘muscles’ needed to stop this automatic reaction. Muscles like gratitude—for the good things in my life like my new grandchild, and another on the way, a fulfilling career, loving close family; honesty—to see the futility in obsessing; self-love —to gently break this destructive habit without harsh self judgment.
Now I see that the politicians and media aren’t blocking my peace, the obstacles are a) my need for a fast solution that makes me feel safe and secure and b) a fear that things are going to get worse before they get better and I don’t think I can handle it.
This is insight. Now what?
The final step which never ends, is to consciously and consistently replace the automatic reaction with a thoughtful healthy response. If I am honest and kind to myself, over time new healthy habits will replace the old destructive ones.
I know that focusing only on the positive isn’t the solution. I feel what I feel; I can’t un-feel or control it. Trying to control does more harm than good in the long term especially if you ignore or suppress your negative feelings. Eventually pressure will reach a boiling point and you and your body will be impacted.
I can control my response to whatever is going on when I accept my emotions, act with compassion and follow the steps above. Life coaching is like being a detective, explorer and a good Samaritan, all with no judgment.
