Dear Fear

      It has been sometime since my last post.  I was touched by the number of people who personally reached out to see if I was alright.  Thank you.  

      I wanted to bring you up to date.  As of the writing of this post I have officially weaned off my Anti Depressant.  This was my decision.  I have felt for some time that the drug was blocking any progression I was seeking.  What resulted was about 5 weeks of emotional and physical upheaval.  And what often comes with upheaval?  Revelation!  So ...

     Dear Fear--- SHAME ON YOU!  Shame on you for using fear to control and belittle.  Shame on you for empowering bullies to taunt and harm.  Shame on you for ...  I stopped here about 6 days ago.  I had it on my To-Do List to get back to this post for almost a week .  That happens sometimes.  One day you are pissed at "Fear" and then six days later you find yourself looking at the unfinished post wondering ..."What did I mean to say here?"
     I don't want to change my post.  I mean, it took me almost five minutes to find the cool picture.  Why waste it?
      Fear is most often a good thing.  It tells us about dangerous situations and keeps us from doing stupid things.  It's when Fear makes you unreasonable and cowardly that I get annoyed.  Thinking back to when I was a kid I remember feeling fear many, many times.  I was never a fighter.   I was not brought up that way and when, as an eight year old, another kid told me he was going to beat me up after school, that fear often paralyzed me.  I now wonder what fear was doing to the kid who threaten to beat me up.  For all the threats I received from grade school through to High School, I never did anything to deserve the threat of bodily harm.  So, what Fears were my bullies feeling that they had to pick on a kid just minding his own business?  It must be awful to be that person who lashes out at someone, not really know why they are doing it. 
      The funny thing about my bullies is that once they reached adulthood they turned into good people who were able to let go of their fears.  I have met a few of them who told me they were not proud of their younger selves.  They admitted that they couldn't even remember if there was a real reason for them to dislike me and threaten.  (Except for Dave in High School.  Yes, I was trying to steal your girlfriend.  Sorry.) 
     So fear takes on many forms.  Right now there are children who fear going to school because of a bully or are afraid of speaking in front of the class.  I want them to know that eventually it gets better.  Everyone experiences something similar to what they are going through.  Please reach out to parents, teachers and friends.  Once Fear is out in the open it will likely shrink to something small and not worth worrying about. 

So Tired

I am so Tired ...

I am tired of being unmotivated.

I am tired of being sick.

I am tired of not being the husband I should and could be.

I am tired of avoiding meaningful or needed conversations with my son in case I upset him.

I am tired of being befuddled 90% of the time.

I am tired of not trusting and not being trusted.

I am tired of pain.

I am tired of taking myself out of situations with friends and family because of weight and health issues.

I am tired of wearing the same few items of clothing over and over again because I don't want to buy even bigger clothing.

I am tired of not being able to verbalize what is going on and instead turning away from people who love me and just want to help.

I am tired of hearing "You can do it!"

I am tired of not being able to fully commit to work.

I am tired of waiting for something that may not come.

I am tired of failed attempts at improving myself.

I am tired of being "So Tired".

I am tired of being me.

I am just so very, very Tired.

Fathers and Sons

     One of the most emotional moments I shared with my Father was a few months after my graduation for Fanshawe College's Television Broadcasting program.  I had just turned twenty-four and still had not found a job in my chosen field.  I was sitting on our backyard deck feeling very, very sorry for myself and my Dad came out and sat with me.  My emotions have always been close to the surface but I usually, like many kids, kept that part away from family.  Dad could sense that something was up and he quietly sat next to me and let me tell him all about it.  Anger, sadness, desperation and self doubt flowed like Niagara Falls.  The "Why Me's" were top of the list.  Had I made a mistake?  What was my life going to like?  Was I a failure!  I can't remember his exact words but it boiled down to "Everything is going to be alright.  You are a good person with a good heart and you will find your way."  Of course he was right.  Within a month I began to volunteer at the local Community Channel and with in six weeks I had a part time job there.  A little over six months later I had a full time job there and began a twenty-seven year career that I am very proud of.  Everything was alright.
     My son is going to be 20 years old in 59 days from me writing this post (Sept. 14, 2014).  Like the majority of young adults his age he is longing for complete independence from his parents.  I am looking forward to that day as well.  Not that I want to kick my son out of my house, I don't!  I want to know that, for him, "everything is going to be okay". 
      That's the other side that I did not see in 1984 when my Dad sat on the backyard deck with me.  He wasn't worried that I would not make it or that I was going to fail.  He had complete confidence in my ability as do I for my own son.  What I now know is that he could, no matter how hard he tried, take away my sadness and self doubt with a few words.  On that day I did not jump up smiling and say to Dad, "Wow, greet talk Dad.  Love you!"  I did not run up the street to the Community Channel and bang on the door.  It took me almost a month after that conversation to made the decision to go.  I needed to go when I was ready.
     Bottom line.  I want my son to know that "Everything is going to be Okay".  He is a good person with a good heart.  He is well liked and smart.  What ever is going on with him, he is not alone.  His Mom and I will always be there for him, even when he thinks we are a pain in the ass or nagging him.  That can't change.  I began writing this post thinking that the end result was me telling my boy that I was going to stay out of his business and just be there for him.  I am sorry, I wish I could but I am not done being a parent.  I have some good stuff left in me, least of all, my never ending love for him and the man he is today.  And if his mother and I say or do something that pisses him off, I want him to know that we do it because we can't help it.  We do it because we love him so very, very much and that "Everything is gong to be Alright!"

An Honest talk about Friendship

     I want to talk about Friends.  No, not the TV show F*R*I*E*N*D*S, which is one of my most favorite shows.  The photo on the left is known as an attention grabber and also indulges my love for all things Television.  No, I want to talk about friends as it relates to myself.
     I re-read an older post, the Pain of Being a Wall Flower (Feb. 9, 2013).  It stunned me! Much of what I wrote there was a lie.  I am trying hard to remember why I wrote these inaccuracies?   Yes, I do regress into the background often but I do the same thing with my wife and son.  Even with them I zone out and conversations are short.   I am sure my wife said something at the time about the post, but I likely dismissed it or was in another world.  And outside of the family I am also not really listening many times to what is being said to me or around me.  I now know that it was ADHD affecting me.  It's not that I drop out of conversations, it's that I often don't hear them at all.  I am far, far away doing who knows what. 
      I can tell you that I have been trying to improve.  Now that I know why it happens, I do it I try to consciously engage in conversations.  I find that I am better at the one on one conversations than the group gab fests. 
      Now back to my "Friends" theme.  I have been wondering lately how this has affected my friendships over the years.  I sure many people have looked at me and thought that I was stuck up or uninterested in what they had to say.  No to both of those.  I just could not stay in the moment.  It was like someone had a rope tied around my waist and had yanked me away in mid talk.  I can think back on many situations with friends, family and colleagues, when potential friendships and career opportunities were lost.
      Any of my friends reading this may say that they did not notice it but I am sure if they thought of it, they would remember me as being more of a "listener" than contributing to the conversation.  I say to you, please, if you can, give me a verbal or even physical nudge.  Bring me back.  I don't want to be that person who drifts away and most certainly I don't want my wife affected because I come with the "package".   I want to be a part of your lives and to any new friends I have made recently and those to come ... don't be afraid to hit me up side the head.  I can do better.

Your Friend -- Mike

O' Captain, My Captain

      This is so sad.  What baffles me is how could someone so loved not find the help he needed?  When Robin Williams passed earlier this week I was not prepared for the news at all.  My wife texted me.  I was at my doctor's office and was in a bad state of mind to begin with.  Months with barely enough sleep, my doctor had suggested that I take a break from the ADHD meds and try a sleeping pill.  "Let's see if a good night's rest will help?"  We'll the pill did not work and I could not get back in to see the doctor again for a month.  So for that month I had no sleep and no ADHD meds to boot.  I was waiting to see the doctor when I got that text.
     Anyone who grew up in the 70's followed Robin William's career starting with the wonderful silliness of Mork.  You could tell he was something special.  The way he would go off on tangents and improve.  At that time adlibbing on set even just a little was frowned upon.  He did it for most of each episode.  You could tell by the look in his fellow actor's faces that, at times, they had no idea what was coming next.  For any other performer that would have spelt disaster but for Robin Williams he was just getting started.  His first feature film, The World According to Garp, showed that he could act and act well.  Every performance was one to behold, even the movies that did not "perform" well.  I watched them all.
      From 1980 to 83 I lived in London, Ontario.  I was following my dream of working in television and was attending Fanshawe College.  My roommates and I would listen to my Robin Williams Comedy Album over and over again.  Then it was announce that he would be performing in Toronto, an hour away.  I did not have the money to spend on comedy concerts but I knew a "once in a lifetime" opportunity when I saw one.  The night of the concert, my friends and I waited in the 2nd balcony of the theatre.  When he came on stage the place erupted.  Even from the balcony he had a commanding presence.  I remember vividly how, when a woman tried to sneak to the bathroom, Robin cat called after her.  When she return I think he may have been wearing her coat on stage.  (That part might just be wishful thinking on my part.)  It is a night I cherished.  I think I may even have the ticket stub somewhere.  I hope I do.
     Why didn't he seek help?  The news says he was in the early stages of Parkinson's.  Still, he had lots of productive time ahead of him.  Likely there is something that we don't know about what he was facing.  But he did not have to face it alone.  None of us do. 
     Sad ... so sad.

Getting Better all the Time. Better, Better, Bett-er.

     Wow, it has been almost a complete month since I last posted.  I see that as a good thing ... for me.  I have chosen to call this post "Getting Better all the Time" because I found myself humming this catchy Fab Four tune this morning.  And I thought to myself ... "yes I am!"  It has been a slow process and I am not 100%.  No one is 100% no matter what they say.  I believe that we can strive to be the best we can and as close to 100% as possible as long as we can look back on our day and say ..."that was a pretty good day."  And of course that is not going to happen every day but there will be decent stretches where the good days vastly out number the bad.
     So why am I better?  Simple ... I asked for help.  I was no longer content with being blah and down and just plain sick.  I got in people's faces and said to them and myself ... "This has got to stop."  So now I am climbing out of the hole I was in.  For that I thank my doctors and my friends.  I thank my son and especially I thank my wife.  She has been there and lived with my issues for a long time.  She has always looked for ways to make me feel better.  There were times when I wished she would leave me alone but I am so very glad that she didn't. 
     At one time in our lives we all are met with challenges that can knock us off our feet.  Another reason I chose the Beatles tune as a title for today's post is because I had just finished listening to my new favorite obsession.  It is a Podcast called The Halifax Daily News.  http://www.jamieandlisa.ca/  It is owned, produced, and hosted by Jamie Paterson and Lisa Blackburn, two local radio personalities who are very well known in and around Halifax. Jamie is a huge Beatles fan and has a whole room dedicated to his obsession.  And full discloser, I know both Jamie and Lisa.  I have worked with them both and like to think of them as friends.  This past year they both lost their positions at one of the stations in town.  I now it was devastating for their listeners and I am sure they didn't take it too well.  But, they did not hunker down and hide from their issues.  They took control and have started a five times a week Podcast along with a Website and Blog.  The link above will take you to their site.  I strongly recommend you take a look and listen.  You won't regret it, even if you are not from Halifax.  I am sure they will say that they have a ways to go too, but I can see that they have a very bright future.  And so do you. 
     If you are sitting there reading this and saying that this could never happen for you, that your problems will not go away, you are wrong.  All you have to do is reach out and ask for help.  You may have to ask more than one person but I promise you that you will find someone who will help you get yourself up on your feet again.  What do you have to lose?
    

Appreciation

     Sometimes it is very easy to forget the good things in life.  We spend all to much time focusing on the bad that happens that we dismiss what was and will be good about our lives.  Over the last month Canadians lost two beloved country men.  Knowlton Nash, CBC News Anchor and Journalist and Author/Activist Farley Mowat.  I got to meet and have conversations with both of these fine gentlemen. 
     Early in my Halifax Cable Community Channel career as a producer I was approached by two individuals who wanted to do a weekly talk show with writers.  The show was to be called East Coast Authors.  That title would only last a year when it became obvious that we had a great many opportunities to interview National and International authors.  Of course East Coast writers would be a main focus but when a writer from "away" came knocking we opened the door.
     And that is what I mean by application.  If those two people did not walk through the door that day I would not have had the opportunity to meet Mr. Nash or Mr. Mowat.  Nor would I have met William Golding (Lord of the Flies), David Suzuki, W.O. Mitchel, Margaret Atwood, Silver Donald Cameron, Sheree Fitch, Robert Munsch, Peter Gzowski, Gordon Pinsent, Timothy Findley, Ken Dryden, and Don Harron as both himself and Charlie Farquharson .  And there were countless others as well.  Co-producing that program shaped who I was and what I wanted to achieve.  It was with  a sense of pride that I told people of my involvement with the show that had become "Choyce Words". 
     So I wanted to say thank you to my partners and friends, Mary Jo Anderson and Lesley Choyce,  for some of my best loved memories and cherished friendships.  If you have been holding back anything from the people you appreciate go ahead and let them know.  Feels good.

Digital Therapy: Art as a means of Healing

     My father was a frustrated artist.  He was a creative talent.  As a young man he loved to draw, sketch and paint.  I believe art was a part of his soul.  A creative path could have definitely been in his future.  But life came along and he took on the responsibilities of family.  Raising four children and at times, holding down as many as four jobs at once, left little time for creative pursuits.  It wasn't until he was nearing retirement that he was able to take up his art again.

     My creative spark was writing or at least the thought that I could become a screenwriter.  It drove me to a near thirty year career in television for which I will always be grateful.  When that career ended suddenly I found myself lost and wondering what next?  Luckily, a few weeks after my sudden career change, my family and I, on a planned vacation, found ourselves in the home of my dear, dear friend, Laurel Bachmann.  I had known Laurel since high school and became close friends while working together at Parks Canada.  She became a valued spiritual leader and sounding board.  While visiting Laurel and her family on Salt Spring Island, B.C., she took it upon herself to continue my spiritual journey.  She did this while being treated for cancer.  She always amazed me.  One quiet afternoon she gave me a psychic reading.  She told me that I would begin to draw as a means of expressing myself.  Having watch my Dad paint I had always wanted to be able to create that way but I couldn't even draw a straight line.  I put the suggestion away and we continued on our vacation.  A few months later I thought of what Laurel had told me and I picked up my first brush.  It has become an important part of my life.  It calms and invigorates at the same time.  I thank God, Laurel and my Dad for this wonderful new spark. 

     Both my father and my friend are gone now but they are a part of me and my art.   I miss them both very much.   Whether anything comes of this or not, I know that I have something that is mine and that will not disappear from my life suddenly.  I hope that my television/film career is just taking a well needed rest.  But if not, I know I will be alright.  Thank you to all who are a part of my life and who continue to be there for me.  Thank you.

Triggers

     A while back I spoke of the "Good Days and Bad Days" in my life.  For most, a "normal" bad day is taken care of by blowing off steam or a good night's sleep.  When you are depressed, a bad day means slipping into the dark side of yourself.  The one where you beat yourself up and tell yourself you are useless.  This dark side can last days or weeks and in extreme cases, years.  FYI --- I am a few day in the dark side kind of guy.  At my worst I think maybe I was there for 10 days.  But let me tell you, a hour, a day, a week or a year... this is not some place you want to visit often.
     So what triggers these trips to Darkland?  There are too many to list.  Most depend on the person. But for me, a disappointment of some kind can do it or change/pressure from work that I believe is not fair.  Also, if I have had a number of good days in a row.  That one is a head scratcher.  Of course we all get disappointed, face changes or come down after a great weekend.  Lulls are common.  We can't stay up all the time.  It's not natural.  We need to go low so we can learn to appreciate the highs.  Depressed people take these triggers and magnify them 100 times.  It weighs heavily on their souls.  Maybe they shut themselves away or go on an eating binge.  Some will turn to drugs or alcohol.  Maybe it's a dangerous stunt or situation.  Whatever they think will bring them out of that "place".   
     As outsiders to this destructive behavior, family or friends can be sympathetic.  But how long can that last?  I try to stay positive and I am sure that all my friends and family would say they are in it for the long haul but really... they must be getting as tired as I am.  If you find yourself in the dark zone don't forget that you have people who care for you.  They will always there for you as long as you remember to reach out and to keep in touch.  It is the most important thing you can do.

Parenthood

     There is a wonderful show on NBC called Parenthood.  It is the saga of the Braverman family and how they deal with whatever life throws at them.  I like to watch this show alone.  It is a chance for me to expel emotions that have been bottled up in me for whatever reason.
     The most resent episode deals with the struggle we have as parents to let our kids grow up and deal with their own triumphs and disappointment.  Especially the disappointments.  I know I am not the only one who sees this striking close to home.  Many of my friends and family have kids that are near the end of High School or in a secondary education program of some kind.  It is hard to let go and to not step in and help.  It is also very hard, for me at least, to not look back at our tenure as a parent and wonder ... could I have done a better job.  The answer is obvious.  Yes.  We can always do a better job.  I could have communicated more.  I could have been there more.  I could have been stronger.  Is it too late?  How can you be a parent to your adult child?  I know, at their age, many kids don't want much to do with their parents.  Most guidance we try to give is looked at interference or with condemnation.  But still, we have to try, right?
     I look at my own son and see him struggling with life moments.  When he is hurt or disappointed I want to grab him and protect him.  I want to make everything okay .... but I can't.  It's his journey to make now.  His mom and I have done what we could and yes, as I said before, mistakes were made.  But when we see our son through the eyes of others we see a good man.  A man who is kind and has a strong sense of right and wrong.  Someone who is smart, even though he doubts that at times.  Someone who will be there for his friends whenever they need him.
     These years of a young adults life are the most amazing and most scary of their lives.  There will be lots of challenges ahead, but all these firsts that they are experiencing are the ones that will be their true tests.  As parents we are proud of all they have done and will do. The best we can do is be there when they ask for help or comfort.  To let them know that we love them and always will.
    

Hey! That's not fair!

     I love volleyball.  Since the first time I stepped on a court in grade six to right up to last night when I went to my weekly "pick up" game.  And to tell you the truth, last night was not that fun.  The blame for that is likely deep down in my DNA.   I hate it when things are not fair.  I mean I really, really hate it.
     For many, many years I played volleyball as a member of Coed Volleyball Nova Scotia.  I cherished  those years.  I met my wife playing in that league as well as many life long friends.  We had a blast.  It was always a fun time, even when the competition got heated.  I liked the competition.  I like to win as much as the next guy but more than that I love a great game.  One where everyone has a chance to win and you came away, win or lose, feeling like you gave it your best.  More than likely you played against some of your friends which was a fantastic bonus.
     Of course all good things must come to an end.  As the years pasted, most of us, as we aged, got injured or tired or had family obligations to take care of.  The last year that I played in the monthly tournaments was a tough one for me.  And I apologize to my then team mates as I say this, but my team sucked.  We did not gel as a team and more often than not, we beat ourselves.  But worse than that, I felt the tournaments were not being run fairly for the division I played in.  Let me explain...
     Ten teams registered to play each month.  Usually the same ten teams but sometimes new teams would show up.  That was cool.  Someone new to play against.  The monthly tournament was run by two court reps from the CVNS Executive.  I had been a member of that executive in the past for over 15 years.  I knew how to run a tournament but I had long since moved on and felt that it was time to let others do the work.  The understanding was that each court rep, who also played on a team, would each take a side of the gym.  Each side would have five teams who would play each other once and the top three teams would move on to the play offs.  Here was my issue.  The team I played on was one of the weakest teams.  Our captain, a lovely woman, was also one of the court reps.  The other court rep always did the line up.  He would decide who would play who.  That year, after about three months I noticed a pattern.  The court rep would set it up so that my team was always on his side of the gym.  We were a guaranteed win for him.  He wanted to make sure his team made the playoffs.  This went on for the full year.  Not once that year was there a court rep on both sides of the gym.  The last tournament of the year I had decided I had enough and complained to him.  He basically looked at me like ..."so what!"  Sadly I got no support and ended up looking like I was a big baby.  I left the gym that day and never returned to tournament volleyball.
     It drives me when people use a position of power to advance their cause at the expense of others.  I see it everyday as I am sure you do.  Even when it pertains to something a silly as a pick up volleyball game.  I should just enjoy it.  I got exercise.  I got out of the house.  What am I complaining about.  Still, I can't help myself ... it just is not fair.

The Magic Pill

     A few posts back I spoke of my family doctor suggesting my depression might be linked to ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder) or ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder).  We agreed to see a specialist who would confirm or deign the diagnosis.   The problem was that I would not be able to get in to see him until early summer.  I had asked that I be put on the waiting list and sure enough a spot opened up 10 days ago.
     The day of the appointment I nervously drove to the Doctor's office.  I was 15 minutes early and the doctor saw me right away.  He started asking about my family history and current work situation.  My life with my wife and son and friendships.  As we progressed he took lots of notes.  A few times I asked him to repeat what he said because my mind had begun to wander, my head spinning from information and possibilities.   He smiled and obliged.  I was certain he was going to tell me that I was just the same as everyone else and what I experienced everyday was just the way people lead their lives.  Sure I was depressed but there would be nothing he could do that my family doctor was not already doing.  But he didn't.  I was indeed ADHD.  I said "you mean ADD."  I am not hyper in the traditional sense.  But he told me there are degrees of hyperactivity and many people who are ADHD do not present in the classic way.
     Many people who get this diagnosis are relieved to hear that there is a logical explanation for what they have been going through.  I don't get me wrong.  I was happy to get confirmation but my anxiety took over.  The doctor prescribed a pill.  Biphentin is a form of Ritalin.  It is a stimulant and he told me that "it would change my life."  Change my life.  I have been waiting for that to happen for a very, very long time.  Now the magic pill is being offered to me.  But what if it does not work?  What if no pill will work?
     Before I take this magic pill I have to get back in to see my family doctor.  Because I am on other meds there has to be a consult.  Now there is frustration because now it is almost impossible to see my GP.  I will get in and I know that we will made medication adjustments and I will try the "pill".  The next time I post on this blog I am hoping that I will have been on the medication for a least a week.  I'll let you know how I am doing.
     Fingers crossed.

Heart Break

     Valentine's day is a tough day for many.  For those without someone special in their lives it is a cruel reminder that they are alone in matters of the heart.  Many of these people are going to be down because of that situation.  Then there are those of us who are depressed and have loved ones in our lives.  A couple, or family, in the throes of heavy depression this time of year can be exhausting. 
     If you have someone close to you who is depressed and you are not, then it is very hard to understand what they are going through.  One moment they seem fine and the next they withdraw and become distant.  And the length of time that distance can happen varies.  Once it goes beyond a few days the loved one starts to not only worry but also the isolation is dreadful.
     Why is this happening?  I wish I could put my finger on the exact reasons but I do know that the weight of true depression can cause the depressed person to head into a downward spiral that he/she believes they will not come out of.  They not only lose confidence in themselves but they lose confidence in the ability of anyone, including their closest loved ones, helping them.  The safety of television. a book, food or sleep seems like a better alternative than talking it out.  Especially when you don't know what is really bothering you, why you are acting this way and what you can do about it. 
     Well, here is what you do about it.  Get in to see your doctor and tell them what is going on.  Don't let them talk you out of anything short of a new direction of treatment or some other positive move forward.  Whatever you were doing is not working and waiting months and years for a change will not do.  You may even want to consider a naturopathic remedy.  Seek out those professionals and see what they can offer.  What ever you do ... DO NOT GIVE UP!  Not on yourself or your loved ones.

The ER Visit

      It was a week ago.  I sat down at my desk that morning with a stuffy nose but other wise felt fine.  It is not usual for my stuffy nose to be accompanied by some very loud and powerful sneezes.  Some of you may have been around to hear me sneeze while at the same time saying "excuse me".  It saves time, what can I say.  A half hour later the nose was clear and my morning was progressing.  An hour later my chest started to bother me.  It was very tight and made it difficult to breath.  Now, at my age and because I am not in the best shape, my mind will cross to "Is this a heart attack?"  I did not feel that it was but as the day went on, the pain worsened and my breathing did not improve.  I did take my blood pressure and the readings where what they usually are for me.
      After work I called my sister, who has a medical background.  She asked a couple of questions and then suggested that I put heat on my back and that I  call 811 and speak to a nurse.  I did not want to do that, mostly because the pain was now primarily on my right side and seemed to be worse in my back.  I debated and then relented.  I called 811 just to ease my mind.  The nurse asked me a series of questions, most of which I replied "No", and then strongly suggested I go to the hospital emergency.  So at this point my anxiety has had it's interest peaked.  Could this be a heart issue?  My wife had been out but arrived home by the time I was ready to go.
     Anyone who has ever visited an ER knows that you are likely in for a long night and this visit would be no exception.  I spoke to the nurse out front who took my history then to the lady who took my health card information then we sat down in the waiting room.  Within minutes I was called in.  Now my anxiety jumped up a notch.  Why was I getting in so fast.  They must be concerned.  Not really.  They just made us sit in another waiting room.  Luckily it was right in front of a nice big plasma TV and there was a comedy on to distract me.  That was good.  It ended three minutes later and a hospital show came on and the story line was about heart surgery.  That was bad.
     For the next three and a half hours we waited.  During that time the pain was actually getting less.  At times I relaxed and knew that whatever was going on it was not my heart.  At other times I tensed up and thought, "what have I done?"  I am not taking my health seriously.  So like many people in my situation, I made some decisions.  I had been under a great deal of stress with my own, self imposed deadlines regarding projects I was working on to get my TV career back on line and working with a local animal shelter and even this blog.  I decided that I would take a break from that and put more effort into my health.  I had begun a new diet and now I needed to work on the exercise.  I would give myself permission to miss deadlines and to fail so that I could make a move towards a better, healthier, me.
     About Two am I got to see the medical staff.  I had blood tests, EKG and x-rays.  When it was all said and done my doctor told me that I had sneezed so hard I had strained my chest wall.  I was not surprised because a few year earlier I did the same thing and threw my lower back out.  I stood beside the doctor as he was about to release me and we looked at my x-ray.  Feeling better I joked. "Look, I can see a face". I pointed at the lower right of the x-ray.  The doctor smirked at me and said "That's poop."
     We'll that about summed up my night.  POOP!

Muddled Mind

     A new year brings with it a desire to make changes in our lives.  Lose weight, be a better person, get that dream job, etc.  I think the stats say that only about 7% of people keep their resolutions due to a lack of will or the simple fact that they did not even want to try to make a change. 
     For myself, my life has been about wanting to make changes.  To be that better person or find that job that is meant to be.  My issue has always been distractions and focus.  For as long as I can remember I have been subject to procrastination and the very annoying trait, being overwhelmed by too many choices.  When you have too many things to choose from you often do not pick any of them because it is just that much easier.
    I am the king of lists.  I list lots of things.  Movies to watch, books to read, chores to get my wife to do.  (And my chores as well.)  List are a good tool only if you follow and keep working at them.  If not, then you just end up with a lot of lists.  Then you need a list of your lists that need attention.  Does this sound confusing?  We now you know how I feel about 80% of my day.  I suffer from what I like to call a "muddled mind".  It is the feeling that because there so much coming at me, my brain defends itself by putting up a shield.  That shield feels much like a heavy blanket.  It is warm and comfortable but it also restricts my movements.  It does not allow me to flow from one activity to another.  Instead I just lay there enjoying the warmth and  protection of the "shield".  Over the next few weeks and months I will be addressing this "affliction". 
      As always, never give up on yourself or if you know someone like me please do not give up on them.  Be supportive and understanding and when they ask for help, give it. Thanks and here's to 2014 being the year be all take down our "shields".