Becoming

Once in awhile, a discovery of music is made, only by chance (with a little help from online search engines).
Such a discovery was made tonight. This song, Becoming, by April McLean, fits well into this moment in time, and I fell in love with the lyrics immediately. (For the record, the theme of "failing your partner" is not really applicable to our life - I didn't write the song, but I love the rest of the lyrics, nonetheless...)

Becoming

I know I made you cry
I failed you left and right
And I've been too hard inside to see you hurting
And I guess all I can say
Is that even at my age, I'm still learning

And I know it's hard to believe
But there's been a change in me
And what I could not give you then
I can give you now

I'm becoming whole
And I'm becoming healed
And I'm becoming
something beautiful to see
I'm overcoming fear
And I'm overcoming shame
And I'm becoming
so much more than me

That's why I'm here tonight
To try and set things right
And rebuild the bridges I once left burning
I cannot change the past
I cannot change your mind
I guess all I can change is me

So I'm becoming strong
And I'm becoming wise
And I'm becoming
what you thought you'd never see
I'm overcoming pride
And I'm overcoming blame
And I'm becoming
so much more than me

I'm becoming whole
And I'm becoming healed
And I'm becoming
something beautiful to see
I'm overcoming fear
And I'm overcoming shame
And I'm becoming
so much more than me

- April McLean, 2002

Silence

Last week, I briefly met a physio who had recently engaged in a meditation practice which involved immersing oneself in silence for 10 straight days. Although I wanted to find out more about his speechless venture, I did not get a chance to clarify. However, I’ve since been thinking about the concept of silence.

Silence can mean so many different things in so many different situations:

For a young mother of a teething toddler, silence is welcomed respite.

For a teacher, after the first day of elementary school, silence is joy.

For a teenager, born in the late nineties, silence is boring.

For a quarrelling couple, silence is the epitome of frustration or power.

For a friend, waiting for a reply, silence is heartbreaking.

For a musician, silence is poverty.

For a scared child in the middle of the night, silence is horrifying.

For the mother of a six year old who catches her son with his hand in the cookie jar, silence is guilt.

For an extrovert, silence is uncomfortable.

For an introvert, silence is rejuvenating.

For me, silence is now necessary....

Shhh.....

The Closest Cafe

Well, we’re officially almost two-thirds of the way through 2010, one of the most challenging years of my life.

I’m so happy to share that the past 2 months have been really great – summer has been filled with glorious sunshine, cheerful birthday parties, rewarding work, and personal fitness. I even went so far as labelling August 16th as the “best day of year” after a wonderful time celebrating my daughter’s birthday.

During the previous day, I had the “Glee-ful” experience of choreographing, teaching, and performing a “flash mob” with 11 kids during our daughter’s pancake breakfast birthday party... Talk about total and complete silly fun!!

I felt that all was well, until lunchtime at work the following day. I was hungry, but hadn’t had time to pack a lunch, as the fridge was full of pancakes, pudding and cupcakes! I was craving a turkey sandwich and was running out of time before my next patient was scheduled. So I headed off to the closest lunch spot – the cafe at the BC Cancer Agency.

I briefly hesitated, knowing that this building was the site of several previous visits with my dad, during his illness. But I thought that I’d be fine – I’d been parking in front of that building for weeks and had no emotional reaction .

So, in I walked, feeling hungry and confident that everything was going to be okay. I was wrong.

I ordered a turkey sandwich, then glanced briefly down the corridor. Unfortunately, I let my guard down for a brief moment, and the memory of my last visits there flooded back. I thought about how my dad needed help filling out the computerized well-being questionnaire and how he said he was feeling unbearably nauseous. Mom and I had chatted about the decor and friends she knew who volunteered there. Dad was wearing his Kahki pants - the belt fastened with a buckle featuring an RCAF emblem – the belt which was so important then, as he was losing weight rapidly. I remember his slow shuffling gait, and how he waiting impatiently as I retrieved the car from the staff parking lot - I insisted that he conserve his energy. That was only a relatively short time ago, in February. Now, it was August and he was gone. February was a lifetime ago.

“Turkey Sandwich ready.” The lady behind the counter spoke. Oh no. The simple hunger that I felt a few minutes before was now replaced by the intense visceral burning of sadness – the kind of hopeless grief that can only be relieved by a period of tearful solitude. A period of time which was not booked into my afternoon schedule. So I forced down half of the nauseating sandwich – with only my left brain to encourage me to chew. I took a few deep breaths and concentrated on the walk back to the outpatient building so that I could fully focus on my afternoon patients. I successfully held the tears back until a more convenient time.

Now, I am able to put this episonde into perspective. This was an intense moment of sadness during a great week. In May and June I was experiencing these moments several times every day. For much of 2010, it felt rare to experience true happiness for an extened period of time, but now, I am enjoying hours, even days of joyful energy, as I regain the ability to be fully present with family and friends.

But I will likely be unable to eat a turkey sandwich for a long time. It will get added to the list of everyday objects now associated with sadness and grief – an Olympic hoodie, Mom's silver serving tray, Dad’s belt, the scent of cranberry scented bamboo sticks, and “Mr Bojangles”

Perhaps, next time I'm hungry at work, I'll go to Subway.

Working with Mr X – 8 days of Professional Inspiration

Eight years after I was “bumped” (displaced due to downsizing in our regional healthcare system) from my job at the Royal Jubilee Hospital’s rehabilitation unit, I was back as a casual physiotherapist, filling in for a friend who was on vacation. My schedule was set for 8 days of coverage.

I couldn’t believe it. There I was, in the social worker’s office, gathering with the rest of the team for a brief discharge planning meeting. The charge nurse, occupational therapist, and social worker were the same three faces that I left eight years ago! I was, once again, home at work.

After the pleasant and productive meeting, I glanced at the clock and saw that it was 9:00, two hours from working with my favourite patient, Mr. X. I provided physical therapy treatments for Mr X between 11:00 and 11:55 daily for eight days. The lunch trays arrived at 11:45 but he didn’t mind extending his physio sessions. I didn’t mind either, because every extra activity/exercise with him was time well spent.


What he accomplished during the time that we worked together was nothing short of astounding. When I began working with him, he required the assistance of three therapists to move from sitting to standing, as his weakness was profound and his endurance was very poor. By the end of my time there, he was able to stand up from a 24 inch height, with minimal assistance, and walk with the aid of a two-wheeled walker 150 feet to his room! He progressed from requiring a mechanical lift to transfer in the bathroom, to using a floor to ceiling pole to stand and pivot around. He co-operated with the skilled professionals 24/7 and every discipline had valuable input into his progress: nursing staff, occupational therapists, rehabilitation assistants, and the many physical therapists who guided him through his rehabilitation, and continue to do so.

He was one of the kindest, most motivated patients I’ve ever met. He worked tirelessly, through palpable fatigue to complete the exercises I asked of him and he never shied away from a new challenge.

In those eight days, he gave back to me as much as I offered him. He gave me the honour of being a part of his success. His goals became my goals and we worked hard to achieve them together. I felt extremely proud, as a physiotherapist , to be able to contribute to the recovery of such an extraordinary person.

To Mr X, I wish you continued success in your recovery and I thank you for all that you gave me in our brief time together. You have been my professional inspiration and, for that, I am truly grateful.....

Pop vs Poetry - A Music Quiz

With all of the walking I've been doing this year, I've been listening to a lot of music. I love my folky, singer/songwriter type music, but I also listen to a lot of pop, for the upbeat tempo that allows me to keep a good pace.

For fun, I have developed a short simple quiz to highlight the differences in lyrical composition between different types of songs. Each question highlights a short passage from two recorded songs - is it "pop" or is it "poetry" ---- you decide!!


1. Timbaland VS. Jewel

Beats so Baby, you're lookin' fire hot
I'll have you open all night like an IHOP
I'll take you home baby, let you keep me company
You give me some of you, I give you some of me

VS.

Eighty years, an old lady now, sitting on the front porch
Watching the clouds roll by, they remind her of her lover
how he left her and of times long ago, when she used to color carelessly,
Painted his portrait a thousand times, or maybe just his smile,
and she and her canvas would follow him wherever he would go



2. Dave Matthews vs. Cascada

Walking along in this haze of confusion
Sometimes I can laugh
But sometimes it takes all of my strength
Just to find enough reason to take the next step
Step but I will, but I will 'till I do

VS

Evacuate the dance floor
I'm infected by the sound
Stop this beat is killing me
Hey little DJ come burn this place right down underground




3. Lady Gaga VS. Jann Arden

I won't tell you that I love you
Kiss or hug you
Cause I'm bluffin' with my muffin
I'm not lying I'm just stunnin' with my love-glue-gunning

VS

The salt inside my body ruins
Everyone I come close to
My hands are barely holding up my head
Oh, I'm so tired of looking at my feet
And all the secrets that I keep
My heart is barely hangin' by a thread




4. Joni Mitchell VS. Black Eyed Peas

Daylight falls upon the path, the forest falls behind
Today I am not prey to dark uncertainty
The shadow trembles in its wrath, I've robbed its blackness blind
And tasted sunlight as my fear came clear to me

VS.

I'm steppin on leprechauns
Shitin' on y'all you with the (Boom boom)
Shitin' on y'all you with the (Boom boom)
Shitin' on y'all you with the..
This beat be bumpin' bumpin'
This beat go boom boom


5. And for the grande finale: Usher vs Justin Nozuka

Watch out!
My outfit's ridiculous, in the club lookin' so conspicuous.
And Rowl! These women all on the prowl, if you hold the head steady I'm a milk the cow

VS

Listen to the words you see
You are blind to what you hear
Listen to the words you see
Do not fear the truth beneath
Reach for roots beneath the trees
Listen to the words you seek
Don't listen to a word they say
Do NOT listen to a word you've heard
Do not listen to a word you've heard
People are people we live for our own
Live how you think not by what you've been told


I hope you enjoyed the lyrics quiz - it was fun putting it together. In the end, I would suggest browsing through some song lyrics by Joni Mitchell and Justin Nozuka... both amazing and insightful storytellers. Usher and Lady Gaga, not so much.