True Love: a Valentine's Day reflection

I have seen in the movies and read in books that true love is about finding joy in each other, about holding hands and giving roses and writing love letters.  I have heard in wedding speeches and sermons that true love is about staying faithful even when it isn’t fun. 

I believe that both of these are true.

And I have seen second-hand that true love is often about wiping dirty bottoms, and spoon-feeding, and encouragement to try one more time, to get up for another day.  True love is about staying faithful even when someone’s personality changes after a brain injury or during the onset of dementia.

This Valentine’s Day, I am reflecting about what I have learned about true love from spouses who take on the role of caregivers—and spouses who take on the role of patient.  Neither role is chosen, but when embraced, both teach us about true love.

Moving Forward Without Looking Back: Neuroplasticity and Hope

“When will our lives be back to normal?”

This is probably the most common question I receive from patients and their families.  I usually dodge it:  Instead, I estimate the timeline for reaching the patient’s goals and establishing a daily communication (or eating/swallowing) routine.  Because honestly, what is “normal”?

This isn’t a pithy rhetorical question.  Does “normal” mean following an established pattern with the resources you have?  That can start during the recovery process, although there may be great suffering in it.  Does “normal” mean a predictable life with no obstacles?  I can confidently say that will never happen.  What was expected yesterday may not be expected today.  Yet this clinging, this preference for the past over the future, is common.  We long for the security of the known.

How can we shift our expectations to allow for the changes that are happening in our lives?  How do I, as a therapist, talk about moving forward with my patients—and with myself?

Finding freedom in a disability: Katherine Wolf

"I realized very clearly that happiness has nothing to do with the material things which surround us; it dwells in the very depths of the soul. One can be just as happy in a gloomy prison as in a palace." ~St. Therese of Lisieux, Story of a Soul

Sometimes I become frustrated when I find myself limited. I can't get enough things done during the day. I sleep for too long. I talk too much and can't get at what I'm trying to say. My weaknesses seem to bind me, to steal my happiness.

My instinct is to fight. I want to overcome my limitations. There I go, pulling chains behind me as if I could outrun them.