22 December 2009

Driving

I never was a big fan of driving, at least in city traffic. Road trips from back in the college days through wide-open rural western states while listening to Waylon and Willie, well, that was good driving. Deer, antelope, tumble-weed and speeding tickets were the main issues there. Back then I had a fast car but unfortunately the speed limit was only 55 mph. I met several of our uniformed finest in three different states in the middle of, uh, no where.

Since my surgery and neuro-wonk issues, I've made no bones about disliking driving. I'm really careful about when and where I drive. Last time my parents were here, my mother and I did some errands together. I drove. When I pulled in at home, Mom turned to me and said, "I think you drive very well dear."

Mom is 77. Now wasn't that a conversation that was supposed to go in the opposite direction?!

Labels, Boxes and Diagnoses

I recently wrote about labels and shifting/undefined diagnoses. About my frustration at new information, starting again and the continued vigilance and research necessary. I deleted the post as a couple comments just plain ticked me off. And, I choose not to go into my medical details to clarify. And, I'm raw and exhausted as I begin again on more medical records chases, new doctor referrals, and new research while being the sole provider taking care of myself and working under less than perfect health conditions.

Philosophically I can appreciate the assertion that boxes and labels don't matter so much in regards to what those of us navigating chronic illness experience on a daily basis. I've often said that I feel more connected to people struggling with chronic illness and trying to function on a daily basis than to a label. Partially because I've been shocked at how people with a shared label assume so much about each other. Take labels such as Lupus, Myasthenia Gravis, or MS which can range from mildly life-impacting to life-threatening. Yet glib and all-knowing comments indicate huge assumptions about the other person's symptoms, functioning, resources, and the thundering impact change might have on their life. Yes, on a philosophical basis the label doesn't matter for the person managing their unique version of one or more chronic illnesses on a daily basis.

Meanwhile back at the reality ranch, that of keeping a roof overhead, remaining medically insured and actually being treated. Labels are hugely important in the navigation of the medical system, disability system if necessary, employment system and such. Not only for validation purposes, but most importantly, for appropriate treatment options. Some that actually might make one better even if for a while. If one is not at the end of the treatment options road, this is huge. And, I'm not at the end of the road -- whatever road that may be. So, continuing to seek a label is not grappling after some sort of elusive validation but actually a sign of not giving up.

In the last two years, I've questioned different docs enough to self-refer many times. Each and every time that proved to be a good move and uncovered something significant -- in three cases it was quite significant. I will continue my research for answers. I will express frustration along the way at the insanity of what I'm having to do. That I do this does not preclude my deep gratitude for so many things and people along the way. Anyone who knows me gets this.

I'm angry right now. I don't plan on making it a lifestyle. I plan on allowing it as a short-term houseguest for constructive action. I've spent a lot of time in in the past in what I call the "ashram of life". I learned many useful tools but also denied the value of "negative" emotions. I now believe that emotions such as anger and guilt are quite effective forces when channeled into appropriate action with the right attitude.

Deep frustration and anger that is experienced, but not wallowed in, is not the antithesis of spirituality, gratitude or even acceptance. Or so I believe.

01 December 2009

Whipper Snapper Smart Folks with Cognitive Challenges

Soon after brain tumor surgery a friend sent me the book, Stroke of Insight, by Jill Bolte Taylor. She's a brain scientist who had a stroke due to an AVM in her late 30s. At that time I related most strongly to her addressing the need to protect her energy by being careful about the sensory input she exposed herself to while healing. Being still in the very vulnerable immediate post-craniotomy space, it really resonated with me.

Now what jumps out at me in her book is her respect for herself no matter what her cognitive abilities were at different phases of her eight year recovery. As if the brain scientist in her accepted her deficits in a more matter-of-fact fashion than some of us lay-folks would. We wouldn't be ashamed if our kidneys weren't processing correctly...but our brain? Well, that's another matter. Who wants to admit to anything that would lead us to being perceived as less than smart? I haven't always made the best of life decisions, however, I've generally considered myself at least a smidge above the middle of the bell in intelligence.

So, now I navigate cognitive challenges. Not huge glaring ones. No, more mild and subtle encroachments. Whether from MS or the surgery doesn't really matter. I see how I struggle more through the day to stay on track, write an email or remember my phone number. I'm not sure if these are true cognitive deficits, fatigue by-products or both. I just know that figuring it all out to function is getting harder. And, no it's not normal aging. I'm inclined to openly look at this to create some strategies. Embracing this isn't admitting lack of intelligence, it's a matter of learning how to best access that intelligence and enhance it. If I just ignored this and pretended it didn't exist, well, that would be foolish.

My primary doc recommended someone for neurocognitive testing. Knowing that the testing outcome is highly dependent on the tester's interpretation, I'm gathering a bit more information before going down this road. The transparency shown by folks like Jill Bolte Taylor, my brain tumor forum pals, and some MSers, has helped lessen the burden of acknowledging this. Made me more understanding of whipper snapper smart folks with cognitive deficits while realizing it's an oxymoron for many people. Ok, ok, it's arguable as to whether I was ever whipper snapper smart but we'll table that debate for now.

Jinx Garza, fellow brain tumor survivor, about memory loss

Jinx on her neuropsychological testing

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This 18 minute video from Jill Bolte Taylor is totally fascinating to me. She talks about the event of her stroke and her new perception of the world when her left brain went offline. I highly recommend it...