What if I Didn’t Assume?

It is amazing how much chaos and stress I can create in my little brain by making assumptions.

This morning was a perfect example. My son phoned to tell me that he was coming to visit us this weekend (13 hour car trip) with his 4-month Akita puppy, Mika. He wants to spend some time with his Dad for father’s day and it happens to coincide with his one of his best friend’s stag. My first response was great!

After my son reassured me that he would do his best to keep the puppy out of the garden, my little mind went into high gear. All I could think of was trampled flowers, our dog and 2 cats being disrupted by this puppy energy, and where would everyone sleep? The timing couldn’t be worse.

This weekend I am hosting an annual girls retreat with 2 of my favourite girlfriends. And, as a special present for mother’s day, my daughter is cooking, cleaning, giving us pedicures and taking care of the pets so I can relax and enjoy the time with my friends. Are you kidding? I feel anything but relaxed when I think of this weekend.

Since I was in no mood to sit at my desk and start working, I went for a hike with our springer spaniel. Somehow I needed to process the news and gain a different perspective because I sure didn’t like the one that was swirling in my head.

After an hour of strenuous hiking uphill my brain slowed down long enough for me to hear a message: what if I wasn’t to assume a thing? Don’t assume that my garden will be ruined or that our pets will be upset by the puppy intruder, or it won’t be fun because of things that ‘might’ happen.

I kept asking myself the same question: how do I feel if I don’t assume anything?  After a few minutes it was clear– I felt lighter, my head didn’t hurt, and I actually had a smile on my face thinking about ALL of our company this weekend. Who knows? It could be far better than I assumed.

Note:

It has been a few hours since my hike, and I realize this situation is another reminder that no matter how much I plan, or want things to be perfect there is larger universal plan at work. This isn’t any different than my journey with husband, Dave, and his Frontotemporal dementia. The more I am living in the flow with all of the changes happening in my life, the easier it is to enjoy what is in my life right now.

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Why Does Life Have to Keep Changing?

“It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but rather the one most adaptable to change” ~ Clarence Darrow

It was about 30 years ago when I was in my early days of working at the hospital as a physical therapist when my supervisor spoke about ‘changing’ times in health care. She said that people who can accept and adjust to changes more easily would be happier and more successful. At age 28 I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about, but now…I ‘get it’.

Over 6 years ago my husband, Dave, was diagnosed with early-onset dementia—Frontotemporal dementia. For the first couple of years, I denied and fought the changes that were happening in my world. I think I was living in fantasy land and despite the diagnosis of dementia, I truly believed that Dave would continue being the ‘handy’ guy around the house, drive and run around doing all sorts of errands, and that our physical relationship would continue to deepen.

Well, I’m sure you can guess that my fairy tale didn’t turn out the way I had planned. It wasn’t until I stopped resisting all of the changes that accompany the world of dementia, that I began to feel more peaceful and happier. I had more energy to start creating a life–such as a life coaching practice–that didn’t revolve around caregiving and filled some of the voids. As they say…when one door closes, another one opens but… sometimes it is hell in the hallways.

It took me 2 years after Dave’s diagnosis to finally wake up to the fact I was fighting a battle that I would never win. As Byron Katie says…”fighting what is, is like teaching a cat to bark. You don’t have to like it, but it will always win”.

Just like the seasons of the year, changing times are a natural rhythm of life. And the good news is that it is my choice—fight them, or learn to flow with them.  I know which path I want to be on.

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Final chapter for my newsletter–Tips for Insightful Living

This morning I closed the final chapter on my newsletter for Tips for Insightful Living because I made a decision this past spring to shift my focus from coaching caregivers to coaching & empowering women to find their voice and confidence. For those of you who didn’t subscribe to my newsletter, I wanted to copy it here so you can read how my husband is doing almost 6 years after being diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia.
DAVE’S UPDATE:

We visited the neurologist last month (first time since Dave was diagnosed almost 6 years ago) and he was surprised at how well he is doing. Note: a 45-minute visit is quite different than living with him 24/7. The doctor was happy that Dave is still relatively independent–daily hikes with the dogs, riding his bike into town–without getting lost (not a feature of his frontotemporal dementia) and doesn’t need assistance for his personal care–aside from a cattle prod to get him in the shower or change his clothes more than once a week.

Mentally, there has been a slow decline over the past year with poorer judgment & common sense. Our conversations continue to be filled with questions all relating to his world: what he does, what he sees, what he is going to do, which way the clouds are moving. When he asks me if I see the plane or the bird in the sky, I try to get away with pretending I see it. But he watches where I’m looking and knows if I’m telling the truth. Dave is keeping me honest and in the moment.

Dave’s greatest disabling feature is his sensitivity to noise. He wears custom earplugs but he still cries when trucks drive by, a seagull flies overhead, a dog barks, or the phone rings. We don’t go to movies, restaurants (music playing and babies crying), concerts, sporting events (announcers & clapping) or laugh too loudly. In fact the volume on the TV is so low that I might need to purchase some hearing aids–or at least learn how to lip read.

The biggest decline and surprise is Dave’s physical abilities. He is having difficulties getting out of a car (I pray the car door won’t fall off as he hoists himself out using the top of it) or out of a chair. Every movement is in SLOW motion including buttering his toast in the morning. For someone like me who moves at the speed of lightning, my patience and understanding continues to be challenged by Dave’s single gear…a notch above reverse. Besides his leg weakness, he has hand tremors and fainting spells. I’m getting pretty good at aborting his falls and seizures. It’s worse if he is tired, hot (no hot tubs or baths), dehydrated, or drinks red wine. As soon as I see the color drain from his face, and he starts yawning, I get bossy and tell him to lie on the floor. He resists, but so far it has saved him a few falls.

Emotionally, Dave is happy and makes the most of his abilities. He loves to work on his jigsaw puzzles; his library rivals my collection of books. Dave loves adventures and is very crafty about finding ways to convince people to take him on trips into town. Last month a friend was visiting from Calgary and he thought it would be nice to show him our countryside. That would have been fine if we weren’t in the middle of a month of rain. Our friend’s brand new Audi (with the 4-wheel option) returned with layers of mud that took more than 15 minutes hosing it down to see it’s original color. And, despite the 4-wheel option they almost slid off the road. But Dave’s all-time favorite trips are when he visits with his family…his Mom at the Shuswap lake, and his brother and sisters on the West coast. For him it is like winning the lottery.

HOLLY’S STORY UPDATE:

Personally I continue to grow…more patience, surrendering and accepting my reality, and living more in the present moment with fewer worries of the future. That is 92% of the time. The other 8% is when I’m tired of ‘growing’ and give myself permission to have pity-parties–stamp my feet, cry, get mad that I’m living in ‘limbo’ and sometimes admit that life isn’t fun. I’ve stopped pretending or ignoring these feelings. I don’t beat myself up for feeling the sadness, loss, and continual changes/challenges that goes along with dementia– combined with working to rebuild our retirement funds.

My joys come from living in the country and spending time with our beautiful pets and wild birds. We added 2 new sweeties this past winter: Clive, a ginger boy, and Henry, a little black boy, rescued from the SPCA cat program. They are absolute dolls and get along beautifully with our 2 springers–Riley & Emma.

Our kids are doing well. Our son Kyle is up north running big machinery for the pipeline (sorry I can’t keep track of what he does) and our daughter Amy is a registered massage therapist working in Revelstoke (3 hour drive from our home). My dream would be to have both kids living here but for now I love when they visit.

Professionally I LOVE what I do. One day a week I work in my physiotherapy clinic, with the rest of my time coaching my life and business clients. I’m not sure how I would be coping without this fulfilling career. I made a big decision this past spring to switch my focus from working with caregivers to helping women who feel ‘stuck’ in their life–stressed and burned out from doing too many things for other people, and have lost the joy of jumping out of bed in the morning. On the inside they feel small and weak without a voice, yet on the outside they are putting up a strong front. This comes at the cost of losing sleep, lacking energy/motivation, and physical signs–joint pain and illness. I coach them to discover, accept, and love their ‘true’ selves (underneath the layers of pretending to be strong & handling it all); how to find more free time for themselves (letting go of the ‘shoulds’ without feeling guilty); and have more confidence by standing in their feminine power. Note: this is the place I know too well.

Note: Would love to hear about your updates!

Love,

Holly xo

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Awakening to the Riches of Dementia

Have you ever been on the phone when someone in your household is trying to tell you something very important and you can’t focus on either conversation? I don’t know about you, but I get flustered and confused-either I turn my back or put my hand up for the family member to stop talking. Well, that is how I felt in the neurologist’s office in March, 2007, when he was giving us the results of  my husband’s CT scan and memory tests. I wanted to put my hand up for him to stop, but I knew that I shouldn’t because this was our new reality. Dave, my husband, who had just turned 57, was being diagnosed with dementia. A week later, the type of dementia was identified–Frontotemporal Dementia.

By the time we left the doctor’s office, I was feeling numb and dazed-almost floating, as we walked to the elevator. For over 5 years, I had been noticing ‘red flags’ with Dave-like headaches and not recognizing long time friends-but I was thinking it was related to the stress of teaching high school for 25 years. Then when Dave retired at age 55 and his symptoms actually got worse-it now included seizures and personality changes-I knew that we were dealing with something that I couldn’t help him just by reading the latest  brain book or buying sudoku and Nintendo DS Brain Age games. But I still didn’t think of dementia. Dementia at age 57? I was thinking Dave might have a brain tumour and the doctors would be able to operate and remove it.  If they couldn’t remove it all, at least there would be chemotherapy and radiation to gives us some hope of a cure or remission. And just maybe, the man I married 31 years ago would come back.

At this time, there are no drugs which will cure or even slow down Dave’s dementia. There are no handy little books telling us how to live with dementia, so we are doing our best to make each day count. Dave has been amazing from the beginning. I have asked him several times if he has ever been angry or embarrassed about his dementia and the answer is simple and always the same–no. I want to try to understand what it is must be like for Dave to live in a world that is becoming foreign to him. One day, I asked him what colour his brain was and he said ‘black’. Why? “Because my brain is dying”. I was curious to know if he understood what that meant. He surprised me by saying “it means I will die”. He told me that he isn’t afraid to die but worries that he may have passed the dementia gene onto our children. He also regrets that he won’t be able to travel to all of the places we dreamed about. You can imagine how emotional I felt while listening and looking at this courageous man. I made a promise  to Dave that we will do our very best to fit some of those dream trips in over the next couple of years.

Lesson #1: don’t put off those vacations you have been dreaming about. If you can’t afford it, then still plan a special time away-maybe not as far.

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