Believing that you can actually heal when the conventional wisdom tells you there is no chance of recovery takes a great deal of conviction, focus, and discipline. As I wrote in my February 14, 2011 post, I had lost my focus and discipline over the past year or two, and it cost me gains that I had achieved in my physical condition and more. Since the “Wake-up Call” that I wrote about last month, I have re-instituted practices that I had lost track of, such as meditation and mental trips to the gym. My focus now feels restored, and I am more hopeful about regaining lost abilities.
In working on my “From Nightmares to Miracles” manuscript recently, I came across some words that describe the challenge of continuing to believe in recovery despite evidence to the contrary. The way I put it was this: “when the person staring back at you from the mirror is barely more than half your normal weight and lacks the strength to hold or move a pencil or even wiggle a toe, belief in recovery can be difficult to maintain.” It takes constant due diligence to replace negative thoughts and emotions with positive ones and self-love. As I discovered early in the process of battling ALS, “The choice had become simple: believe, as the doctors had told me, that there is no recovery from ALS and die, or believe that recovery is possible and go about discovering how to do it“. I chose, and continue to choose the latter.
When the dark moments hit, it can be very difficult to stay the course. Recently, a fellow PALS (Person with ALS) was going through a difficult time that was challenging her will to continue the fight. In an effort to help, I wrote the following email describing what I do when things get tough:
My heart goes out to you. Times like this can be very scary. When I have faced such moments, I have found three things to be particularly helpful. One is to remind myself that it all comes down to one simple question, "Do I want to live, or do I want to die?" Doctors don't decide that, nor does a disease, you do! Every thought, decision, and action you take flows from your answer to that question. Each time I have confronted myself with that question, and reaffirmed my will and intention to live, I have come through it stronger, more focused, and in a better state of well-being - not always what I was hoping for, but always better. At times, there have been physical improvements, sometimes just a mental readjustment. But remember, where the mind goes, the body follows.
A second thing that has helped me through dark times is to put more energy into my affirmations and gratitude list. There's an old saying my colleagues and I used to use in our consulting work: "You can behave your way into a new way of thinking, or you can think your way into a new way of behaving." It took me about three years to really start believing my affirmations, but the more I practiced filling my head with them and other positive thoughts, the less room I had left for things like fear and doubt. Remember, where the mind goes, the body follows, and you can program your mind with positive thoughts.
The third thing that has helped me is a particular affirmation that I recite daily, and as needed: "I believe in living in the moment, total present time, going with the flow, and loving the challenges." Each time I have lost a bit of strength, I have nearly worn this phrase out reminding myself to stay in the moment. Observing a new physical loss as something that is happening right now, in this moment, rather than projecting it into the future as a permanent change, makes it a lot less scary, and allows you to keep your mind focused on healing. Using this strategy, I have often found that lost strength returns, including things like hand strength and breathing.
Unredeemed losses have occurred when I have lost sight of my intention. That's how I wound up with a feeding tube! I have been living with ALS for 11 years now, and there have been lots of ups and downs. At times I have needed a wake-up call to remind me to realign my behavior with my intention. Joining this group (Healers of ALS) is among my most recent wake-up calls. Your courage and honesty in sharing your history and struggles have been inspiring to me. I hope you choose to go on fighting, but only you can decide. It's a tough battle, but you can win it, and we are here to help.
Her response seemed to indicate that she found these words to be helpful. In my experience, whether it be living with ALS or dealing with other difficult challenges, I have always found that knowing what you want, being positive, and staying in the moment are key to a successful outcome. What do you think?
Showing posts with label difficult challenges. Show all posts
Showing posts with label difficult challenges. Show all posts
Friday, March 18, 2011
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Surviving a Perfect Storm
Tomorrow, my live-in aide, Jimmy, will be starting a well deserved ten day vacation. Knowing how difficult it can be to find an acceptable replacement, he gave me plenty of advance notice. About six weeks ago, I was lucky enough to secure the services of a former aide who was familiar with my condition and routine. Unfortunately, he backed out on me three days before Thanksgiving, leaving me with less than two weeks wrapped around the holiday weekend to find a replacement.
We pulled out all the stops and put together a variety of coverage plans. My first step was to call my care manager, Bonnie, to find candidates for the position that I could interview as soon as possible. I also put out emails to my friends and congregation looking for people who could fill in some hours, so that I could put together a schedule of potential care givers. This second option of using friends was also dependent on being able to move Lloyd’s (my afternoon aide) hours to the morning in order to have someone available who was able to move me out of bed and through my toileting and dressing routine. The third option was to temporarily move me into a nursing home, a last resort that I really hoped to avoid.
After interviewing three aides, I was unable to find one that was capable of performing both of the two most critical tasks – transferring me and understanding my “ALS accent”. Offers from friends began to pour in to cover multiple four hour shifts. Unfortunately, there were not enough people available to cover the daytime hours. To make matters worse, my good friend, Gil, who is often available to assist me in situations like this was recovering from surgery and unable to help. It is my wife’s busiest time of the year with her high school choir concerts keeping her out until late at night multiple times per week, and my children’s schedules would be keeping them out of state during the time Jimmy would be away. As if this wasn’t enough of a challenge, it turned out that there was no room for me in the nursing homes.
On the day before Thanksgiving, I was down to my last, although best option, and had one more health aide to interview. My last hope was a 19 year old Lithuanian, named Will, with only a year of experience. As it turned out, that year of experience included a client with physical limitations similar to mine, and Will was able to transfer me with ease, and understand me better than most people. I was saved, and Jimmy was able to continue with his vacation plans with peace of mind.
The most remarkable part of this experience for me was that I was able to remain fairly calm and focused throughout the ordeal, while those close to me were displaying higher levels of concern about how the situation might not work out in my favor. By staying in the moment, remaining calm, feeling grateful for the groundswell of support coming from my friends, and doing what was necessary, I weathered the storm, found the resource I needed, and averted a crisis. Living with ALS has taught me time and again how being in the moment, gratitude, and focusing on what you can control or influence can contribute to transforming difficult challenges from nightmares to miracles.
Have you had similar experiences? Please share them.
We pulled out all the stops and put together a variety of coverage plans. My first step was to call my care manager, Bonnie, to find candidates for the position that I could interview as soon as possible. I also put out emails to my friends and congregation looking for people who could fill in some hours, so that I could put together a schedule of potential care givers. This second option of using friends was also dependent on being able to move Lloyd’s (my afternoon aide) hours to the morning in order to have someone available who was able to move me out of bed and through my toileting and dressing routine. The third option was to temporarily move me into a nursing home, a last resort that I really hoped to avoid.
After interviewing three aides, I was unable to find one that was capable of performing both of the two most critical tasks – transferring me and understanding my “ALS accent”. Offers from friends began to pour in to cover multiple four hour shifts. Unfortunately, there were not enough people available to cover the daytime hours. To make matters worse, my good friend, Gil, who is often available to assist me in situations like this was recovering from surgery and unable to help. It is my wife’s busiest time of the year with her high school choir concerts keeping her out until late at night multiple times per week, and my children’s schedules would be keeping them out of state during the time Jimmy would be away. As if this wasn’t enough of a challenge, it turned out that there was no room for me in the nursing homes.
On the day before Thanksgiving, I was down to my last, although best option, and had one more health aide to interview. My last hope was a 19 year old Lithuanian, named Will, with only a year of experience. As it turned out, that year of experience included a client with physical limitations similar to mine, and Will was able to transfer me with ease, and understand me better than most people. I was saved, and Jimmy was able to continue with his vacation plans with peace of mind.
The most remarkable part of this experience for me was that I was able to remain fairly calm and focused throughout the ordeal, while those close to me were displaying higher levels of concern about how the situation might not work out in my favor. By staying in the moment, remaining calm, feeling grateful for the groundswell of support coming from my friends, and doing what was necessary, I weathered the storm, found the resource I needed, and averted a crisis. Living with ALS has taught me time and again how being in the moment, gratitude, and focusing on what you can control or influence can contribute to transforming difficult challenges from nightmares to miracles.
Have you had similar experiences? Please share them.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Gaining Strength and Counting Blessings
It’s been a good week! Last September, as I may have mentioned in an earlier post, an aggressive increase in one of my treatments caused me to lose about 90% of my already limited hand and forearm function. There were days when I could not move the joy stick that controls my wheelchair. Thanks to some adjustments in the treatment, continued detoxing, my nutritional and exercise programs, emphasis on affirmative thinking, the work of my healer (Jose), and good old perseverance, my arms and hands are completely back to where they were, and continuing to gain strength. I am even noticing additional strength in my shoulders and neck. It all became more noticeable this past week as I began to take easier and more extended strolls around the neighborhood.
Gains like this, of course, are what doctors will tell you are impossible for a person with ALS. And, if I am successful in continuing to reclaim mobility, doctors will most likely proclaim that my recovering from ALS is a miracle, and will ignore what I have done to achieve it. I am convinced that this will be the likely response from the medical community, because I have read and heard so many stories like it. This is one of my motivations for continuing with this blog – to get the word out that there are effective strategies outside of the traditional medical model that a person with ALS can use to fight it.
Another reason it has been a good week is that a reporter from a local newspaper put out an article on my story, providing further exposure for my successful battle against this disease. You can find the article, "Local man with Lou Gehrig's disease beating odds," at the following link www.mycentraljersey.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=20106220302. Please let me know what you think of it.
It can be a lonely battle at times, searching for effective, non-traditional healing practices that work in the face of the sometimes patronizing and skeptical attitudes, and lack of interest one often experiences from medical professionals. Each time I experience a gain like my recent increase in strength, I count my blessings that my perseverance has paid off, and hope that my example somehow benefits others with ALS or other difficult challenges.
Please let me hear from you.
Gains like this, of course, are what doctors will tell you are impossible for a person with ALS. And, if I am successful in continuing to reclaim mobility, doctors will most likely proclaim that my recovering from ALS is a miracle, and will ignore what I have done to achieve it. I am convinced that this will be the likely response from the medical community, because I have read and heard so many stories like it. This is one of my motivations for continuing with this blog – to get the word out that there are effective strategies outside of the traditional medical model that a person with ALS can use to fight it.
Another reason it has been a good week is that a reporter from a local newspaper put out an article on my story, providing further exposure for my successful battle against this disease. You can find the article, "Local man with Lou Gehrig's disease beating odds," at the following link www.mycentraljersey.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=20106220302. Please let me know what you think of it.
It can be a lonely battle at times, searching for effective, non-traditional healing practices that work in the face of the sometimes patronizing and skeptical attitudes, and lack of interest one often experiences from medical professionals. Each time I experience a gain like my recent increase in strength, I count my blessings that my perseverance has paid off, and hope that my example somehow benefits others with ALS or other difficult challenges.
Please let me hear from you.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Thank God for Spring! A Blessing when Living with ALS.
You don’t have to be fighting a life threatening illness to be celebrating the end of a season that packed way too much wind, water, snow and cold. As someone who has lost a significant amount of his normal body weight, however, I find it particularly sweet. Even though I have regained close to half of what I had lost since the onset of ALS, inactivity from paralysis keeps me extremely vulnerable to the cold. My body doesn’t start to feel warm until the thermometer reaches at least 75 degrees. Venturing outdoors during the colder weather requires so much warm clothing that I can barely exercise what little physical mobility I have. The combination of the exposure and reduced independence can put quite a damper on my incentive to leave the house.
Gazing through my bedroom window in recent mornings, while basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays and studying the greening of the grass and the formation of the trees’ new buds, the rebirth that is spring surges inside of me. I look forward with the anticipation and excitement of a circus bound child to strolls around the block with my wife, visits with friends and neighbors, shopping excursions, dining out, trips to parks, and other outings. I especially look forward to testing the extent of the regained strength in my right hand for driving my wheelchair. During a recent walk with my aide, on one of the first days to break into the mid-sixties, my hand lasted far longer than I expected before experiencing fatigue. This leaves me very excited about the prospects for my increased level of activity this spring and summer.
Among the things that make living with ALS difficult is the constant bombardment by external reminders of the limitations it can impose. The bone-chilling feel of temperatures that used to seem mild reminds me of the frailty of my body. Inabilities to scratch an itch or grasp a pencil are among the constant reminders of the mobility ALS has stolen. Perhaps worst of all, is the loss of dignity and disrespect that can be suffered at the hands of well-meaning strangers who assume how badly you feel and behave out of pity based on the projection of their own fears of what it would be like to be in your place.
What facing such situations has taught me, as did the challenges of sleeping with ALS, is the importance of choosing how to focus my attention. Making conscious choices about how to view my circumstances has helped me cope with or prevent the stress of health issues, financial problems, interpersonal challenges, and other crises. Living with ALS has taught me that we human beings have tremendous power to direct our thoughts, and that our thoughts in turn have tremendous influence on our mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being. So when I am cold, I work to focus my thoughts on my to-do list for the day. Instead of lamenting over my inability to deal with an itch or handle a pencil, I dwell on the gratitude felt over my continuing ability to steer my wheel chair. Rather than take umbrage over other’s misguided displays of compassion, I consider their intensions, and seek to ease their discomfort. Taking the time to appreciate the beauty around me is just one of the important, yet simple, practices that keep my attention positively focused. Thank God for Spring, which makes it so much easier to apply.
Gazing through my bedroom window in recent mornings, while basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays and studying the greening of the grass and the formation of the trees’ new buds, the rebirth that is spring surges inside of me. I look forward with the anticipation and excitement of a circus bound child to strolls around the block with my wife, visits with friends and neighbors, shopping excursions, dining out, trips to parks, and other outings. I especially look forward to testing the extent of the regained strength in my right hand for driving my wheelchair. During a recent walk with my aide, on one of the first days to break into the mid-sixties, my hand lasted far longer than I expected before experiencing fatigue. This leaves me very excited about the prospects for my increased level of activity this spring and summer.
Among the things that make living with ALS difficult is the constant bombardment by external reminders of the limitations it can impose. The bone-chilling feel of temperatures that used to seem mild reminds me of the frailty of my body. Inabilities to scratch an itch or grasp a pencil are among the constant reminders of the mobility ALS has stolen. Perhaps worst of all, is the loss of dignity and disrespect that can be suffered at the hands of well-meaning strangers who assume how badly you feel and behave out of pity based on the projection of their own fears of what it would be like to be in your place.
What facing such situations has taught me, as did the challenges of sleeping with ALS, is the importance of choosing how to focus my attention. Making conscious choices about how to view my circumstances has helped me cope with or prevent the stress of health issues, financial problems, interpersonal challenges, and other crises. Living with ALS has taught me that we human beings have tremendous power to direct our thoughts, and that our thoughts in turn have tremendous influence on our mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being. So when I am cold, I work to focus my thoughts on my to-do list for the day. Instead of lamenting over my inability to deal with an itch or handle a pencil, I dwell on the gratitude felt over my continuing ability to steer my wheel chair. Rather than take umbrage over other’s misguided displays of compassion, I consider their intensions, and seek to ease their discomfort. Taking the time to appreciate the beauty around me is just one of the important, yet simple, practices that keep my attention positively focused. Thank God for Spring, which makes it so much easier to apply.
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