It’s been about two years now since my best friend and ancillary father figure, Nick, suffered his hemorrhagic stroke. He has a huge group of friends who have been amazing. Four of us were tasked to be his medical and durable powers of attorneys. The medicals are out of town and only marginally helpful. The two financial poa’s, one being myself and the other, Lori, a long term friend of Nick’s both live here in town.
What I have learned over the past two years has been nothing short of an education in family and friendship. Nick’s sister, who is a goblin of epic proportions, was there for him when he needed her. She drove out from Arizona to be at his side while he was incapacitated for months at a place called the Whetstone Rehabilitation Center. Well, that was horrific. Lori came in on him totally passed out, butt naked in a stifling room with no evidence that anyone was keeping him safe as he was designated as a fall risk. This is where his sister and brother in law’s presence came to be a good thing. At least Nick had them to watch his back at that awful place. Oddly enough, there are now multiple lawsuits against the facility since someone died, of septic shock if I recal correctly, there recently. For as expensive as that kind of care, and for how vulnerable people are when they need it, it breaks my heart that this is the best thing that America can come up with for our loved ones.
Anyway, moving forward, the group of local poa’s got Nick situated in an independent living community. It was another shock to see Nick’s living expense go from something like $700/month to $2600/mo for an apartment. Again, wow moment here. With the boomers aging, I can’t believe we don’t have more affordable housing options for our sick and elderly. It’s geared toward bankrupting people in my opinion. Not to mention in home care visits which were running about $1500/mo for things like showers and eye drops.
It’s also been an emotional challenge. I didn’t get along with one of the other medical poa’s first of all. So we decided to just stay out of each other’s way. Forever. Then there is coping with the loss of my old friend and life long advisor. The man who survived is changed. It’s hard for me to accept that the man who came home from the Whetstone was not the same man I’ve known and relied on for so many decades. Even now it brings me to the edge of a tear or two. Still, he’s alive and comfortable. He’s got his friends and he’s living a life.
It makes me wonder though. I plan to draw up my will this year and put some do not resuscitate orders in place if I can that far in advance. While Nick is not a burden in anyway, I would rather check out if I went through what he did, or my worst fear, become a shut-in due to a stroke. I wish America had laws protecting our quality of life, and dignity in death, by our own choice.
But yeah, so I’ve learned a great deal about compassion, empathy, strength and, yes, Medicare (which is flaming expensive for a Civil Servant who never paid into Social Security). I’ve learned about the industry built up around older people and the sick and how to be as financially resourceful as possible. The experience has also taught me how to better let go of frustrating people. Stop giving them the energy which had been causing me so much stress. I’ve witnessed the induced dementia caused by anesthesia performed on a stroke victim for a hernia surgery That put Nick in such a bad place he was calling upwards of 25 times a day despondent and fully believing the hospital was going to kill him. In time he went back to normal, but those are the moments where a caregiver and friend can feel hopeless.
Nick was robbed of his retirement years. His ability to write (he was an amazing writer and historian before the event). It took away his ability to reason and logically breakdown the world around him. He lost his articulation and sharp wit. His ability to walk and drive. I don’t know what the stroke gave him in return, but it gave me a chance to grow as a man and a friend.
I suppose this is the point of the post. Watching someone suffer? It’s raw and it hurts like fuck. But it’s not hopeless. Time is the healer of everything. While we may be powerless to change the circumstances, we have all the power to accept the situation, and grieve our losses, together. To find the strength within ourselves, when we have none left, to build new friendships and spend the remaining time we have together just as we always have. As friends.
Eddie and I joined a local grocery service called Yellow Bird last year. Basically, they source out vegetables, meats, grains, and many other grocery store items from local farmers. There have been many benefits to this for us. First, we are presented with things that challenge us like Napa Cabbage, cabbage, Brussels sprouts, Daikon Radishes, and turnips. Things that never made our lists before when we were Kroger shoppers. The fact that it’s local means that it supports Ohio farmers. The food doesn’t go through carbon expensive supply chains and, most importantly, is not a part of factory farming practices so popular these days.
One of Eddie’s friends lent us a book called cooking by the seasons decades ago. Ted. He had an incredible palette, sharp sense of humor, an amazing collection of cigarette butt filled coffee cans. The large ones. I think of him most in the months of January and February. It’s in these two months, Winter, that I really feel the urge to retreat into myself and do a fair amount of reflection.
More evidence of that includes some work on my hiking and camping gear inventory. I picked up a new water filter, a foldable saw, some new camp sandals and a new two-person tent for buddy hiking. I need to work on getting some convertible shorts, a winter sleep sack for next year and a GPS device (not so much for this year but for the longer hikes I aspire to in 2020). That and some audio/video gear for creating trail vlogs.
But it’s March. My outdoor trips are going to start back up again. Work has been amazing. And there’s Napa cabbage to roast.
This post is an attempt to talk about four principals that have been stewing in my brain for sometime now. It’s a set of concepts that came to me in the days after a health event that put me on the doorstep of becoming a runner and, soon after, a backpack hiker. I believe that there are many paths to self awareness. This is where my trek is taking me at the moment in my professional, personal and outdoors life.
I was never a Boy Scout. Memory is squidgy on why I never followed through with the Scouts actually. And yet, probably to my parent’s chagrin, I dropped out of the program shortly after Cub Scouts when I was a kid. Well, that and soccer, football, choir, and band. Loved track & field though. I think I am more of a loner than a joiner actually. Not anti-social so much, but inclined to keep company by myself usually while enjoying the metered company of others.
All that aside though, I love being outdoors even though I have lived pretty much every minute I could in front of a computer screen through my 30’s & 40’s, or in a restaurant, or in a kitchen. Some of my friends were shocked one day in the mid 2000’s when I was outside one time, after having broken my arm in a biking accident, I was bicycle commuting every day at the time, when I think I said something like “I love being outside in the sun.” Alcohol may have been involved. But I was met with dismay and laughter in that inconsistent statement I uttered aloud.
Change demands honesty.
Fast forward to four years ago. A serious health challenge. Three great job changes. My marriage and a new openness to many permutations of friendships across multiple fulcrums along the past, present and future tenses. I guess the constant lesson has been change. Maybe some forgiveness in there and willingness to learn from mistakes and then let them go like those paper lanterns that float off into some night sky down a river.
I can’t change what I’ve done, or not done, in the past, but what I can do is get real honest about the need for change. Yeah, sounds nice, but not so easy. Some changes take more effort than others. Like hiking 100 miles with my buddy Doug last year through the Olympics. That challenged both of us and we found that we needed one another at various points along the way. Changing my diet to be a lot more heart healthy has been an iterative process as well. Salt, fat, sugar are the key factors to manage while increasing consumption of fish, whole grains and vegetables. I think about this a lot actually. And while, playing with fire, there have been pizzas, I remind myself of something my dad told me. “It’s not the thing you do occasionally that will kill you, it’s the things you do every day.”
Honesty requires self forgiveness.
I was supposed to go back to Burr Oak State Park to do a group hike with some new friends this weekend. Didn’t happen. My motivation just was not there. It could be that I am waist deep in learning new skills as required by my new job. Maybe it was a bout of winter blues… it’s been very cold here in Ohio recently due to the polar vortex. It might have been some emotional drainage from working on the AHA Support Network. I say that because I tend to mull over things slowly. I cry in movies. My suspension of disbelief skills are strong I suppose. While this was more of a choice than a failure, I realized I disappointed myself and needed to give myself a break. It’s like that at work as well at times. If more of us became aware of those moments and chose to not be so critical of our shortcomings and instead perform an act of kindness instead, we’d be a lot healthier in the long run.
Self forgiveness yields wisdom.
My 2019 hiking schedule is beckoning. Like I told dad and mom recently, I want to use every damn minute I have doing things that take me places I’ve never been. With Burr Oak fresh in my mind, I’ve got to be less type A about this year’s goals though and just do what I can when I can. Boy Scout or not. I won’t let fear of not knowing how to properly navigate, with a map, get in my way. Or learning how to cut enough firewood for a small campfire when it’s available and allowed. Fear of meeting people that may or may not be hostile – choosing to be present and open. With anyone. Allowing ourselves the time to truly know ourselves is imperative to growth.
Facing fear provides true sight.
There are moments on most of my hikes that I have the opportunity to just get lost. Fear again. That said, I am researching a 323 mile hike through the Daniel Boon National Forest called the Sheltowee Trace. It’s the through hike that might actually be attainable for me. I know sort of what to expect after spending nearly a week on the trail last year with Doug in the Olympics. Yet, this breaks down to three full weeks at an aggressive pace. Backwoods skills being beginner not withstanding. There’s fear of being outside of the safe range of a 911 call. Getting seriously lost or injured. The specter of loneliness. And yet I know all this and keep coming back to this device of getting as far backwoods as possible for these exact reasons. The memories forged outdoors, while there may have been anxiety, are full of the experiences I had. The time spent just being in an environment totally devoid of structure. The smell of rain on the forest floor. The taste of water from icy cold glacial mountain rivers. The chill of the air on my skin at night while being dumbstruck simply looking up at the Milky Way.
It’s when I think of these four principals that I know I am on the right path for myself. I also think that, while this post is about my own treks outdoors more often than not, that there is business, and life, value beyond my own application of these precepts. In an era of distraction, multi-tasking, and ambition, we need to be kinder to ourselves and each other. So here’s to honesty, forgiveness, wisdom, and sight.
The past two weeks have been full of hellos and goodbyes with my job changing. These are my thoughts, observations and advice to others on not letting moss grow on ones toes and how to be wary, not of wolves, but of the insidious fear of change.
I went to a Columbus Web Group talk last night where the presenter, Tom Burden of Grypmat, spoke about his journey toward building a startup. He touched on things like making things personal, identifying what makes us angry and other points, including working with our own fears, which comprise his decision-making framework. Over all, it was great, and he reminded me of my own experience. While I don’t want to create a startup anytime soon, Tom’s thoughts on how to identify a goal and start a journey were on point.
With my recent move from Nationwide Insurance as a collaboration software architect over to Insight as a software engineer, I appreciate what Tom said about, essentially, leaning into what Brené Brown calls discomfort and what Tom calls “what makes you angry.” While I was in no way angry, Nationwide was great, I did have some advice that the CEO of DaVita gave me on a flight back from San Francisco once.
The thing is, I spent way too many years at one company once in my life and it was my responsibility to pursue change, but I was comfortable doing web and SharePoint work in a corporate environment. For fifteen years. It was fun, secure and predictable but that’s just the thing. It’s what Tom talked about. “Find the thing that makes you angry.” “Confront your fears.” “Reach higher.” The day I decided to leave that job in Texas back in 2008 was one of the best days of my career. I had no idea what I would learn, the challenges I’d face or the failures and success to come. But I did it anyway. I did the same thing by strategically choosing to work in architecture at Nationwide while leaving Cardinal Solutions. I am doing it over again by diving head first into cloud technologies at Insight.
When we face a fork on our path, we must actively choose the next direction we pursue. Yeah, it might be a little scary. There may be challenges ahead. But the only way we get from one place in our lives to the next is by not doing the same thing over and over. It’s by stretching ourselves, growing, being grateful always, being open, and putting our best selves forward.
Just like back-country backpacking… part of the excitement is the idea that we may change as people depending on which path we take. It’s the cumulative experience that we garner that makes us who we are at given points in our lives.
Change is constant. Fear of change is a choice. There is always a better way for those who choose to challenge themselves.
This post is about things I think about at the end of a year. Things that made me happy. Things that I am taking into 2019 that make me grateful. What are some of your highlights?
2018 brought me face to face with a lot of change, some challenges, tears, laughter, new and old friends.
Here’s some of my highlights:
I stood by my best friend, who had a hemorrhagic stroke a little over a year ago, through medical appointments, hernia surgery and helping to slow his financial bleeding. There was a moment when I drove him to visit my parents in Marion where he was telling his story and he just broke down into abject tears while telling them about waking from has coma not knowing his own mother was dead. It was one of the only times I saw him emote since his stroke. I feel like we lost parts of him to his event but, in some ways, it has shown us who we are as family.
There was also the amazing wilderness trips I took outdoors to continue exploring that side of myself and nature. The huge hike in Washington over three mountains, 100 miles taking 6 days to complete. The ridiculous 50 lbs pack weight I had because I had to carry both bear cans as my buddy’s pack was not wide enough. Seeing bears, elk and various other forms of wildlife were amazing as was being able to almost touch the clouds on the mountain tops as the formations drifted all around us.
The year also went on to close the same way it rolled along. With a gift. A challenge really. I got a new job. I’ve been a software architect now for three years. I got an offer to go work for an amazing small firm though as a software engineer. The money worked out great and I am going to once again crack my knuckles in an effort to stay relevant in my chosen field. Technology changes really quick. While I am nervous about the stress, I think I am self aware enough now that I will try to watch out for anything that takes me off balance in the future. It’s also a lot of fun so I am looking forward to 2019 for that. Still, grateful for all the lessons and connections I made at my old job.
These are the kind of things that helped me to get back up off the floor when a bout of depression would hit me. Sometimes for days. The people in my life, my friends, coworkers, and family. The sound of crickets, purified water from mountain streams, and the smell of campfire. All these things and events that can lift us back up. Another year alive.
I don’t make resolutions, I just try to set myself up for better choices. Allow for failure. Always be thankful.
I hope that all of you are closing 2018 with a smile and something to go forward into 2019 with that makes your heart sing.
Next year my hopes include 12 backpack/hiking trips, trying kayaking for the first time, finishing my first full arm tattoo, getting back to running and lifting weights more regularly, mediation, more vegetables and lot’s of work both professionally and with my therapist on the depression front.
Happy New Year everyone!
I celebrated this Christmas by taking the time to go hike with 19 strangers at Christmas Rock Nature Preserve. One again, the community you find in the outdoors world never disappointing. It was strenuous in two spots with some pretty steep climbs but the view from Christmas Rock over the gorge was worth it. That and the sense of accomplishing something in nature with a group of like minded people.
I’m set to go hiking with another group at Highbanks Metro Park on New Years Day for a night hike in the dark. After that I plan to meet-up with the Chillicothe Outdoor Adventures group to do some winter backpack/camping at Mohican State Forest. Hopefully I can upgrade my sleeping bag to a 15 degree style one as mine only goes down to 30 degrees and was quite chilly last time I spent the night at Tar Hollow in November with temps in the mid 20’s. Regardless, it will be good to get my first hike of 2019 in from my list of goal destinations.
Other than that I am spending my break time doing some studying and brushing off my tech skills again. Watching the cats way too much. Napping. It’s a good life. Next up, tattoo tomorrow and a party for my husbands long long lost tribe of friends from his early years.
I went out with the folks from Hike Ohio the morning of December 22 on a pre-Christmas Hike. Met some great folks and had an overall good time in HockingHills once more. It was nice to see pretty much all the waterfalls at full force due to how wet the weather has been this season in Ohio.
The best part about Christmas has been the feelings of gratitude for everything that 2018 brought me and my husband and what we have to look forward to in the new year to come. Hopefully more time outdoors, campfires and starlight.
I was also able to spend an afternoon on Christmas Eve eve with my good friend Nick. We went to Highbanks Metro Park. A place where, when I was in my early 20’s, we would frequent and just walk and talk for an afternoon. He’s a stroke survivor. It was a good reminder of the importance of what being outdoors means. It does not always have to be all out backcountry. Sometimes, It can be just two old friends who walk from the car to the visitor center observation deck to be surrounded by trees and listen to the stream below us while having coffee together and talking as usual.
The research continues for places I want to put on my hike/backpack trip scheduled for 2019. These are some of the places I have put together so far. I’ve also begun drafting a cardiac hiking group for folks who have been cleared for physical effort after having suffered a heart attack. More on that soon though.