Out of the boot

I’m back from my short break, and I’m glad to be back. Last week was a very busy week at work, and I worked a lot of extra hours. I’m glad the worst of that is behind me, and I’ll get on a regular schedule again.

The first thing I wanted to share with you this week was some good news that I received Friday when I visited my orthopedic doctor. He took me out of the Monster Boot!

So no more this:

Now I’m in this, an ankle stabilizer:

It laces up and tightens up with Velcro straps, and I can wear a shoe with it. So for the first time in over three months, I can wear matching shoes!

I have to wear this for a month. Then, if I’m not experiencing any pain, I can go without it except when I’m walking on uneven ground.

I go back to the doctor in August. He’s expecting the bone to be 95 percent healed by then.

Yes, it’s still not completely healed. The doctor said it would take a long time, and it is. But it doesn’t have to be completely healed to get out of the boot.

I’m still getting used to the feel of the stabilizer. I tend to throw my foot out like I’m still wearing the boot, so I’ve got to get out of some habits I formed during the months I walked with the boot.

I’ve had a little pain in my ankle today, so I’m trying not to overdo it.

Still, it has been really nice to stand on my own two feet again and to walk more. I am so grateful.

And that gratitude led to thinking about what I’ve learned from the experience so far. Whether it’s the teacher that still resides in me, or the OCD in me that makes me over think, or just the way I’m put together, I like to consider the lessons in situations.

Here is what I came up with:

*My situation is temporary. I have been inconvenienced. I have been limited. But I know that the inconveniences and limitations will eventually end. There are so many people who are permanently hurt or disabled, and I am in awe of their strength in dealing with daily challenges.

*My guiding theme this year is “letting go.” I have had to let go of my feeling of control over what my healing progress will be. Each time I go to the doctor, I have expectations of what will happen: he will take me off crutches, he will take me out of the boot, he will tell me I am completely healed. I have had some disappointments.

I have had to learn that my expectations are not controlling anything. I can follow doctor’s orders, and I can follow healthy habits, but I can’t control the bone in my foot.

*People in general are helpful and kind. I can’t count the number of helpful gestures—opening a door, carrying a bag, giving up a seat, taking an extra step for me—people have done for me. That’s people I know and people I don’t know. I believe most people want to help and are willing to help even strangers.

*It’s OK to ask for help. I don’t like to ask others to do things for me. I feel like I’m bothering them. But we all need help sometimes. And if someone helps me today, I can set the intention to help someone else tomorrow.

*Our bodies are wonderful, intricate, and fascinating. How things work together, how healing occurs, how we can adapt to changes—it’s all pretty amazing to me.

I leave you with those lessons. I hope you’re doing well. I have missed you! I’ll be back on Wednesday.

Please share something about how last week went for you.

50 things I’ve learned in 50 years of living

Turning 50 got my attention. I’m solidly middle-aged now. I’m half a century old.

Birthday flowers from Larry.

For me, this month has been a time of looking back and looking forward. I’m excited about the future, and I’m grateful that I’ve made it this far.

Birthday cake.

I started thinking about what I’ve learned so far in life and then began putting together a mental list of those things.

I decided to write them down and share them with you. And since I’ve lived 50 years, I thought I’d make a list of 50 things.

There’s no great wisdom here. This list doesn’t constitute everything I’ve learned (I hope), and I’m sure I’ve left out some important life lessons. But I thought it would be a fun exercise to try to quantify what I’ve learned over the years.

So here, not in order of importance, are 50 things I’ve learned in 50 years of living:

1: You are not helpless.

2: You may not be able to control anything else, but you can control your attitude.

3: It’s important to hold on to every shred of hope we can.

4: There’s always something new to learn.

5: You don’t have to answer the phone just because it rings.

6: You cannot stop a riding lawnmower by using your foot on the ground as a brake.

7: Not everyone will like you.

8: It’s OK that not everyone will like you.

9: Having a mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of.

10: Taking medication for a mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of.

11: The closest distance between two points is a straight line.

12: Libraries are vital to communities.

13: Gray hair is not ugly.

14: Every creature, every living thing, has a part to play.

15: Animals can save our lives.

16: If a cat’s ears are laid back and she is rapidly switching her tail, don’t try to pet her.

17: One of the hardest things to do is to forgive, either someone else or yourself.

18: Sometimes a good cry is what you need.

19: Doing your best is not the same thing as trying to be perfect.

20: You don’t know what another person is thinking unless he or she tells you.

21: Sometimes it’s best to not say anything.

22: We all make mistakes. All of us.

23: It’s natural to feel nervous about trying something new.

24: Find the balm for your soul, whether it’s prayer, poetry, music, whatever—and keep it close.

25: Listening to someone else can be a gift to that person.

26: You do not have to hang out with people who try to make you feel less than you are.

27: Everyone has burdens.

28: Uncertainty is hard to accept, but it’s freeing when you do, even for a moment.

29: Just because you are related to someone doesn’t mean you have to spend time with them.

30: Put gas in your car once it drops below half a tank.

31: It’s OK if you don’t like the same book/movie/TV show that everyone else likes.

32: Good manners can make a world of difference.

33: You are never too old to find a way to do what is important to you.

34: Remind yourself of your priorities every day.

35: Even if you’re not good at a game/sport/activity, if you’re having fun, do it.

36: Don’t let the fear of what others will think be your guide.

37: Gossip is destructive.

38: Good will win.

39: Sometimes it’s best to agree to disagree.

40: Asking for help is not a sign of weakness.

41: Every situation can teach you something.

42: Don’t wish your time away.

43: If you’re angry with someone, don’t send them an email until you’ve calmed down.

44: Sometimes it’s good to remember that it’s not all about you.

45: You’re not responsible for the happiness of others, and they’re not responsible for yours.

46: Accept compliments graciously.

47: Be kind to others and to yourself.

48: Festering wounds have to be dealt with.

49: Don’t put yourself down, and don’t listen to anyone who tries to put you down.

50: Being grateful can have an amazing effect on your mood and outlook.

What’s one thing that you’ve learned that you’d like to share?

Lesson in empathy

The writer of the great blog ocdtalk recently wrote a post called “The Nicest People.” The post was thoughtful and raised an interesting question: do people with obsessive-compulsive disorder tend to be nice people?

She described her son who has OCD as “thoughtful, gentle, sensitive, and kind,” and said others she knew with the disorder were the same way.

She suggested that perhaps nice people who were predisposed to have OCD were more likely to develop the disorder than others with the predisposition, because they would give more credence to horrifying thoughts and fixate on them.

This post gave me pause. After thinking about it, I commented. Part of my comment was the following:

All people suffer, all people have burdens. But I think when people suffer so much inside, and many people can’t even tell that anything is “wrong,” they end up sensitive to and empathic with others because they know there’s more to people than what’s on the surface.

I’ve had plenty of experience with people telling me that they never knew I was depressed or had OCD. The pain inside does not always show on the outside.

I don’t think I’ve suffered more than most people. There are many people who have had much more difficult, traumatic and tragic lives than I have.

I do think that having suffered great despair and loneliness, I feel a kinship with others who are suffering. It hurts to know that other people are feeling as bad or worse than I have.

I try to empathize with others and give them the benefit of the doubt.

But, oh, how I can fail at that.

Yesterday, after I read the ocdtalk post, I was out with my husband in a customer service venue. We had a curious response from a person whom we thought worked for the establishment. She gave us what we considered to be poor customer service.

We didn’t say anything to her or anyone else. We just looked at each other and I leaned towards him and mouthed to him something like, “That was rude.”

A few minutes later, we found out she wasn’t an employee, just a customer who was helping out. She was married to an acquaintance of my husband.. After he arrived, she and I chatted a bit while the men talked.

It became obvious that she had some physical problems, similar to a person who has had a stroke.

It was also obvious that she had a hard time getting around, but she was still trying to help out the employees.

I felt horrible.

Out in the parking lot, I told my husband how badly I felt, and he, too, had a different perspective.

I thought about how I had just written about my empathy for others, and my understanding that what’s on the inside doesn’t necessarily reflect what’s on the inside. And then I thoughtlessly judged another person.

And what if she had just been rude? Did that give me the right to judge her? No, I don’t believe it did. People act certain ways for their own reasons. I don’t know what those reasons are. It wasn’t like she was aggressive towards us or mean in a way that called for being defensive. So what if she seemed rude?

This is another lesson for me that actions are more important than feelings. I may feel empathic, but acting with empathy is more important.

I can’t be perfect. I won’t always act with empathy. But I hope this lesson helps make me stronger in that respect.

Thanks to the writer of ocdtalk for starting the discussion and making me think more deeply about my own actions.

Do you think your capacity for empathy has increased because of your battle with OCD, other anxiety disorders or depression, or because of suffering caused by other things? Does it affect how you treat people?