On Second Thought
Life's Lessons Revised
Illegitimi Non Carborundum:
Don't Let The Bastards Wear You Down
"I learned that it is not the result that is the goal, but how many people make the journey with you, love you and cherish you."
Globe and Mail Oct7/2013 Tasneem Veli
As I awake this Saturday morning, I find myself a resident of Room 5327 of the Heart Institute, University of Ottawa. Just 2 short days ago, I was woken out of a sound sleep by a heavy, labouring pain, which felt like an anchor on my chest. Immediately alarm bells sounded, "Was I having a heart attack", something I feared was my genetic destiny. Despite my best effort to eat well, exercise religiously, and to try to maintain a stress-free life, I found myself alarmed, scared and uncertain as to what my future life would be.
Despite my symptoms, I chose to proceed with my normal daily life including seeing patients like Mr. X, who was seeing me,ironically,to change his Type A personality. For those of you not familiar, Type A personalities tend to be aggressive, demanding, and are at high risk to have cardiac difficulties.
I was not completely convinced I was in the middle of a heart attack. Having seen my father suffer some 7 heart attacks, my symptoms did not quite match up to his.
Nevertheless, after enduring the pain all day without resolution, I decided to go to the hospital. A quick trip to the local hospital, not by ambulance as suggested by the telehealth nurse, but simply as a passenger in a car driven by my worried and frantic girlfriend.
Arrival at the very same hospital a very short time ago I was the distinguished Chief Psychologist, now a frightened and humble patient. A simply greeting by the triage nurse, a quick explanation of my symptoms, a designation of a 10 code priority, and literally 60 seconds latter I found myself on a gurney in the observation room.
During the next12 hours, my life flashes before me, images of past regrets, present conflicts and future dreams, intertwined in a cacophonic,multi-sensory environment of life and death drama. Am I really having a heart attack?
As I try to understand what has happened other allied heath workers probe and invade my body with various instruments in an attempt to answer this question.EKG,blood analysis and other modern diagnostic tests led to the conclusion by my emergency physician that I have had a mild heart attack. I am immediately given mass dosages of heparin to thin my blood.
A cardiology consultation is requested and soon after arrives a very young slim pony-tailed lady who claims to my amazement to be a 1st year resident. After further tests the young protégée, decides on the bases of a 6th sense, that something does not add up. She orders further tests whose results support her alternative diagnosis. This young Dr. states I did not have a heart attack but have a condition called parimycardius. An unusual condition in which a cold or virus attaches itself to the wall of the heart muscle. No doubt, my recent trip to Mexico, in which I broke my cardinal rule not to leave on a Monday, is a contributing factor although as a rational experienced psychologist, I would never admit this publicly.
Following my now brilliant Dr.'s advice and astute diagnosis, I proceeded to reward her with the following life lesson, "Don't be afraid to follow your inner voice or 6th sense and you will have a stellar career."
Following my new diagnosis, a more benign diagnosis than a heart attack, but still life changing, I spend the remainder of the night attempting to sleep on a gurney, all the while trying to come to terms with what this mean to me.
Early next morning a bed became available in the Heart Institute, which is physically located next to the Ottawa Civic Hospital. Transported via the long, dingy corridors that connect various wings of the hospital I am literally and figuratively traveling through the bowels of the hospital. Protocol requires a nurse and a security officer to accompany me.The unspoken reason, I am a risk for cardiac arrest and in an emergency a second person is needed to seek help. In a previous life I visited this esteemed institution, not in a supine position, but walking, thinking and successfully persuading the executive of the heart institute to add a psychology position to the Cardiac Rehabitation team.
Finally I arrive at Room 5727, where I am immediately examined by a nurse who tethers me to a telemetric device which monitors my vital signs, which are then projected onto various screens displayed throughout the ward. I am indeed a heart patient, restricted to H4 ward.
As I acclimatize to my surroundings, I soon learn I am in a protective community which has a rhythm and beat of it's own. Life is very structured. Each member of the team whether it be the cleaning staff, the woman who serves you your meal or your nurse is dedicated to assist you in a warm, friendly and engaging manner.
I learn quickly that 7am is the start of the 12 hour day shift, where every morning you are woken by your day nurse who examines you ,to be followed soon after by the blood technician who draws blood so that your enzymes can be monitored. In my particular case this is especially important as the enzymes indicate whether my heart muscle has been damaged. As a result of the virus attaching itself to my heart muscles, there are inflamed , rubbing or chafing with my heart. In the ears of a trained cardiologist a stethoscope allows the DR. to hear the rubbing and assess my progress.
My day consists of eating ,resting, walking the corridors of the ward and visiting with my fellow inmates who gather around the TV in the family room. Members of my new community include a farmer, a businessman, and a labour, mostly but not exclusively men from all walks of life. In many ways we represent the various ethnic and cultures from around the world all united in our struggle with heart disease. Many are waiting for bypass surgery others for a heart transplant. To show you how heart disease can impact anyone, on the ward there is a very young woman, a triathlon athlete no less , who was waiting for a heart transplant.
Despite our mutual frailties or perhaps because of them one tends to bond quickly to one's inmates. Whether it is walking the square corridors of the ward together, or in other cases simply waving as fellow inmates go bye, we become familiar with each others stories and try to offer support to each other. Some patients are long distances from their home , do not have the day to day support of their families, and therefore appreciate and value the ongoing inmate support.
Food, or the lack of it, is a big concern on the ward. Hospital meals are nutritious, but limited in quantity, more often than not leaving the inmate starving. One quickly leans on family ,visitors or sharing with your fellow inmate to combat this common problem. The communal fridge of the inmates is full of goodies which is shared by all.
After spending a very long week-end at the Heart Institute I am scheduled early Monday am for an echocardiogram, the results which will determine if I am released from the hospital. The new is good and I am released with specific instructions to severely restrict my physical activities and to take massive doses of aspirin. Fortunately my recover goes well . I realize I have dodged a bullet and am grateful and thankful for my return to good health.
Cardiac disease does not discriminate, no matter what one's status in life.We are all susceptible to health issues, a very humbling common denominator to us all.Carpe Diem-"seize the day".
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Sunday, July 13, 2014
A Low Tech Guy In A High Tech Society
How many of you can identify with me as a low tech.guy(gal) in our high tech.society? The frustrations of being technically challenged in today's society is totally embarrassing. How to explain to a new friend that I don't text and at the same time convince him I really do have a Ph.D. As I have learned first hand, smart phones are only as smart as the user.
Recently my cell phone contract expired and I faced the daunting prospect of re-newal, not to the ubiquitous up-grade but to the lowly downgrade. How to purchase an old fashion flip phone in today's society is no easy task. Try accessing the fully automated phone system of any carrier(what happened to actually talking to a live person), where there is no, I repeat no, option for downgrading.
After a totally frustrating week in which I visited and expressed my needs to countless well intended individuals representing most of the major carriers I was no further ahead. They simply could not comprehend my desire to purchase a cell phone for the sole purpose of talking!
Finally one last attempt connected me to a woman who clearly had accumalted some helpful life experience. She actually understood my phone needs. I knew I was on solid ground with her when she called me "sweetie", a no-no in today's culturally sensitive society, but totally cool with me. A few minutes to process my request and viola I had a phone that met my limited needs and ability.
To understand the effect that high tech has on our society all one has to do is look at the foyer of any condo in Canada. What use to be the familiar site of the local newspaper strewn on the floor of the foyer ready to be delivered to it's owner 's door now stands a single paper the lonely remaining sentinel of my generation. Sadly I now find myself a lonely holdout of an actual paper as the younger generation choses to go paperless. Soon I fear my daily multi-sensory pleasure of reading an actual paper will be replaced by the cold and dispassionate electronic version
I'm totally impressed by the technical savvy of my clients often multi-tasking as I attempt to engage them psychologically. Their smart phone seems attached to their fingers as they effortlessly respond to the texts being sent to them. Nevertheless I silently note one last victory, for those of us technologically challenged. At the end of the session, as they laborious struggle to note their next appointment in their electronic calendar, I surreptitious write it down on my paper weekly calendar, smiling inwardly at my token victor.
The debate regarding technology is long over. Technology has a valid place in our own homes and offices but must be used with discretion,balance and integrity. Despite my personal resistance I have successfully incorporate many new technologies into my practice. Indeed learning new technology such as this blog, website and interface banking has been most gratifying. I am not advocating to go back in time,only for the consumer to have choice in his/her decision whether to participate or not in this technological revolution.
Recently my cell phone contract expired and I faced the daunting prospect of re-newal, not to the ubiquitous up-grade but to the lowly downgrade. How to purchase an old fashion flip phone in today's society is no easy task. Try accessing the fully automated phone system of any carrier(what happened to actually talking to a live person), where there is no, I repeat no, option for downgrading.
After a totally frustrating week in which I visited and expressed my needs to countless well intended individuals representing most of the major carriers I was no further ahead. They simply could not comprehend my desire to purchase a cell phone for the sole purpose of talking!
Finally one last attempt connected me to a woman who clearly had accumalted some helpful life experience. She actually understood my phone needs. I knew I was on solid ground with her when she called me "sweetie", a no-no in today's culturally sensitive society, but totally cool with me. A few minutes to process my request and viola I had a phone that met my limited needs and ability.
To understand the effect that high tech has on our society all one has to do is look at the foyer of any condo in Canada. What use to be the familiar site of the local newspaper strewn on the floor of the foyer ready to be delivered to it's owner 's door now stands a single paper the lonely remaining sentinel of my generation. Sadly I now find myself a lonely holdout of an actual paper as the younger generation choses to go paperless. Soon I fear my daily multi-sensory pleasure of reading an actual paper will be replaced by the cold and dispassionate electronic version
I'm totally impressed by the technical savvy of my clients often multi-tasking as I attempt to engage them psychologically. Their smart phone seems attached to their fingers as they effortlessly respond to the texts being sent to them. Nevertheless I silently note one last victory, for those of us technologically challenged. At the end of the session, as they laborious struggle to note their next appointment in their electronic calendar, I surreptitious write it down on my paper weekly calendar, smiling inwardly at my token victor.
The debate regarding technology is long over. Technology has a valid place in our own homes and offices but must be used with discretion,balance and integrity. Despite my personal resistance I have successfully incorporate many new technologies into my practice. Indeed learning new technology such as this blog, website and interface banking has been most gratifying. I am not advocating to go back in time,only for the consumer to have choice in his/her decision whether to participate or not in this technological revolution.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Reflections onFather's Day
Father's Day, a bittersweet day for me. A time to remember, honour and respect the memories of my father and at the same time to acknowledge the privilege and joy of being a father to 3 wonderful sons.
Excerpts from my recently published book "Life Lessons" describe my relationship with him. "My father, while physically short and stocky, was a larger than life figure to me. Intelligent, well read, he was highly energetic and thoroughly enjoyed a practical joke.My father was a big, small man whom I idealized. Roy, the youngest of three brothers, was brought up by a stern, cold, calculating father and a caring mother who infused him with a mixture of socialism and capitalism that would take a lifetime to integrate.
I recall one conversation I had with Dad, in which he encouraged me to become a millionaire and then work to help the poor. My father, a maverick, a rebel. a secular Jew, was ahead of his time in encouraging the wealthy to make society better by giving back.
My father, inculcated me with integrity, justice and the belief that to be a somebody you either had to be very wealthy or have an outstanding education while in both cases giving back to the community". One of my fondest memories of Dad is his playing football on the front lawn with baby sister Joanne, all of 3 years old hiking the ball and my brother Stanley and I taking turns catching the ball thrown by Dad, while the other did his best to defend.
Unfortunately, my father's ill health limited his activities and his untimely death at age 56 was a major loss to me.My father a man of his times, was not in tune with my more modern sensitivity and psychological make-up. My professional ambition was fuelled in part by my desire to win my father's approval and love. I wish that I would have had the opportunity for each of us to get to know each other as adults. If you are fortunate to have your father with you, make sure he is a part of your life.
Perhaps, because of the early death of my father, I have always cherished and nurtured my relationship with my 3 sons. As a father, despite my human limitations, I tried to make my children aware of the real world. I taught them to treat others, no matter their background, with respect and dignity and to make an effort to make this a better world. I tried to be open and direct with them and not shield them from the injustices and harsh reality that sometimes occurs despite our best efforts.
I am proud of my boys, of the caring and compassionate men they have become. They are all free spirits, who march to their own tune, and I feel blessed to be part of their lives.
David Nozick
Excerpts from my recently published book "Life Lessons" describe my relationship with him. "My father, while physically short and stocky, was a larger than life figure to me. Intelligent, well read, he was highly energetic and thoroughly enjoyed a practical joke.My father was a big, small man whom I idealized. Roy, the youngest of three brothers, was brought up by a stern, cold, calculating father and a caring mother who infused him with a mixture of socialism and capitalism that would take a lifetime to integrate.
I recall one conversation I had with Dad, in which he encouraged me to become a millionaire and then work to help the poor. My father, a maverick, a rebel. a secular Jew, was ahead of his time in encouraging the wealthy to make society better by giving back.
My father, inculcated me with integrity, justice and the belief that to be a somebody you either had to be very wealthy or have an outstanding education while in both cases giving back to the community". One of my fondest memories of Dad is his playing football on the front lawn with baby sister Joanne, all of 3 years old hiking the ball and my brother Stanley and I taking turns catching the ball thrown by Dad, while the other did his best to defend.
Unfortunately, my father's ill health limited his activities and his untimely death at age 56 was a major loss to me.My father a man of his times, was not in tune with my more modern sensitivity and psychological make-up. My professional ambition was fuelled in part by my desire to win my father's approval and love. I wish that I would have had the opportunity for each of us to get to know each other as adults. If you are fortunate to have your father with you, make sure he is a part of your life.
Perhaps, because of the early death of my father, I have always cherished and nurtured my relationship with my 3 sons. As a father, despite my human limitations, I tried to make my children aware of the real world. I taught them to treat others, no matter their background, with respect and dignity and to make an effort to make this a better world. I tried to be open and direct with them and not shield them from the injustices and harsh reality that sometimes occurs despite our best efforts.
I am proud of my boys, of the caring and compassionate men they have become. They are all free spirits, who march to their own tune, and I feel blessed to be part of their lives.
David Nozick
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)