On Healing

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Dan Gottlieb — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 20:51:07 GMT

Trish,
I wish you could have met my wife also, it may have benefited those of you

What was the impact of my spinal cord injury on her? Of course, I can only conjecture but after cancer and multiple sclerosis, I have a feeling she gave up and shut down
After that first year of incredible support and intervention, I couldn't find her again. I have a feeling that like you, she was also angry. But her anger was without fire or passion just something that ultimately consumed her. It wasn't my spinal cord injury but did the damage as much as her hopelessness.

Had I known then... back then, I pushed her to get therapy and medication, I pushed her to exercise to get the endorphins going, I pushed her to find work to develop a source of pride. And I did all of those things post because I loved her and because I was so very scared of losing her.
I would like to think that today I would have done less and done it out of love. That's what I would like to think, anyway.
And today, treatments are so much better and more effective and can be tailored.

You talk about the extraordinary emptiness. A great thinker in my field once said: "the divine child is always an orphan." That our precious uniqueness, our divinity, is always alone and cannot be understood by another. Often, the quality of our lives hinges on how we deal with that truth. Many turn to drugs, sex, food, obsessive thinking or multiple marriages to try to fill that emptiness. Others live their lives feeling bitter and alone while others feel defective unlovable because it's in there. And others blame the world.

Emptiness is the fact. Sometimes it's extraordinarily painful, sometimes it's very quiet, still and peaceful.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Trish-411 — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 01:07:53 GMT

A few random comments:

Professional creeper, never thought of it that way, but I think you may be on to something. OK maybe you shouldn’t put it on your business card, but how about your Facebook? That way I wouldn’t feel so alone.

I can assure you I have a genuinely curious mind but in the neurotic mom way. I’m guessing that is not what you were referring to. I often do that rapid fire approach right when they get into the car. “How was it? What did you do? Who else was there? Did you have fun? Anything you want to tell me?” I want them to be happy, safe, secure in themselves, all of those things mothers want, so you might say I’m just too pushy. But I do find that if I just shut up, in a few hours or maybe the next day the information trickles out. We talk about many things but rarely about their dad or the accident. It feels like they are telling me that one is off limits for now.

I wish I could have talked to your wife. Besides needing a lesson in gentleness and passiveness, I would have asked her how your injury changed her; the good and the bad. Sometimes two wives of quadriplegics can learn a lot from each other.

Sometimes the extraordinary emptiness never really gets replaced by anything. But certainly you are right; pain happens when we lose someone we love. I’ll attest to that one, twice over.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Dan Gottlieb — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 21:00:36 GMT

Like we talked about in another thread, any accident of life steals something from us. And what it steals is what we had yesterday and our vision of what he would have tomorrow. The unconscious mind experiences this kind of theft as a murder. So we sent out to look for the murderer seeking revenge or justice or simply reclaiming what we had yesterday.

My rehab was at Magee rehabilitation center in Philadelphia. A Center City hospital with a lobby looking out onto a major intersection. One winter day after physical therapy, I was sitting in the lobby looking out the window waiting for dinner. After a truck pulled away from the intersection, I looked across the street and saw a man sleeping on a vent, covered with some type of material. My first thought when I saw him was: "at least he can get up and walk away if he wants to."

Repeating that story, I am still somewhat ashamed of my reaction. But it does speak to not only my rage, but my instincts. Imagine, I experienced my life is so empty and worthless that a homeless man had more than me.

It's natural to focus on what we've lost it to try to replace it. We fail. So we get angry all over again. But ever the tenacious humans, we continue to do the same thing. We rail at the injustice, focus on what we've lost and neither rage or despair at the emptiness inside. All of us. All of us.

My wife was an extraordinarily gentle and passive person -- almost to a fault. So I was taken aback by what Bob said when he told me she was enraged. I don't think she was, but there was one thing that you would get angry about -- when someone hurt her husband or her children. That which piss her off something terrible. Just like the rest of us, all of us. So I am sure that Bob had hurt me before that encounter. So I hated him and I actually enjoyed hating him! But like I said in the other post, somehow the rage dissipated over the years and many years later turned to compassion. How did this happen? Certainly I am not some kind of patron saint of mental health, just a neurotic guy with a broken neck.

What happened was my life. I didn't focus on Bob because I was busy with wheelchairs and nurses and catheters and wondering if I would ever work again. And then I began to work again. And throughout this, I had a network of friends.

The extraordinary emptiness I felt when I saw that poor homeless man 30 years ago is now gone. It's been replaced by many things, mostly people who I love and people who love me. And by the way, Bob's behavior was so painful because I loved that man. That's why pain happens, because we lose something we love.

All of us suffer no matter which side of the bed we are on because we have lost something we loved. Yesterday. And most of us, didn't even know how much we loved it.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Dan Gottlieb — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 20:28:51 GMT

First let's get the easy stuff out of the way. Am I a creeper? Hello! That's what I do for a living. I am a professional creeper, and I think I am pretty good at it.
But I will say this, if you approach people with a genuinely curious mind and a compassionate heart, you might be a little less creepy. Maybe.
So if you find yourself truly curious about what their lives are like, the good news and the bad news, what it's like to have a father whose like theirs, you might get better results. And if somehow your timing is good, you will certainly get better results. Well, maybe.

Now that I think about it, even though I am a professional creeper, I don't think I would put that on my business card.

On my next post, I want to talk about injury, anger and forgiveness.
Dan

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Trish-411 — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 03:23:50 GMT

Re: The Story of Bob

Dan,

Thanks for sharing your story. I have been thinking about it all week. I am always amazed how the twists and turns of life bring people to and away from us. I suppose you could say that the ending of your column brought about the beginning of a healing process for Bob. Those things sort of boggle my mind; an ending that brings about a beginning.

I don’t know anything at all about your wife, but I wonder if what Bob said is true in a way. I certainly don’t know how it feels to be the one in the bed, but I know a little bit about being the wife whose life has suddenly changed. The emotions are so raw and overwhelming. Without even realizing it, I’m sure I hurt people’s feelings and maybe drove some away because of my own insecurities. It brought me to tears to just see a husband driving his wife somewhere, opening a car door, or just carrying the food tray at McDonalds for his family. Anyone that appeared to have a normal life I hated. I probably said many things I didn’t mean and now wouldn’t recall saying. It certainly wasn’t intentional, but those first several months following my husband’s accident were a nightmarish blur. I probably sent a few Bob’s packing myself. Everyone made me angry including Bob, but really I was angry with myself and just didn’t know it.

Glad you were able to see him again. Sounds like it was good for both of you.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

ratherbflyin — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 06:48:53 GMT

Trish,
I can definitely understand where your boys are coming from. Creeper is a new term to me, but I love it! (Sorry, I don't intend to minimize your feelings about being called a creeper.) I just have always enjoyed the gift kids have for just blurting out their thoughts and developing their own common language among their peers.

I wondered something when I read this post. I wondered if your husband's TBI interferes with him being able to engage with your children or if, on some level, he is embarrassed about what he can no longer do or concerned about embarrassing your sons? Just a thought that crossed my mind. TBIs are so different from person to person.

By earning your "creeper badge" (thanks, Hazeleyes!) maybe your boys at least know that they can talk to you - or not, depending on the criteria that determines whether or not they are cool.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Trish-411 — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 19:12:02 GMT

Thanks for the support. He has even posted it on his Facebook....My mom is a creeper. Now that is creepy.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

hazeleyes1 — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 19:04:12 GMT

I know you were asking Dr. Dan but here is my 2 cents too: Wear your 'creeper' title as a badge of honor. My hope is that every engaged and loving mom should have that title and that badge.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Trish-411 — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 17:24:06 GMT

Dan and rbf,

Here is something that you can add to your list about 12-17 year old boys. They don’t really want to talk to their mother about their feelings. When I approach them with the question, they call me a “creeper”. Have you heard that one? Like I am super creepy for even asking. New vocabulary word for the day. What I have learned is that they are embarrassed by their dad. They are also angry; angry that his disability keeps us from doing certain things they wish we could do like traveling. It doesn’t work either way (to take him or leave him home) for a variety of reasons that I won’t get into. That’s just one example.

I understand all of this. I’m angry too sometimes. The big problem we face is that for whatever reason unlike you guys, their dad isn’t the same as before. I can’t say he is the same guy just in a chair because he is not. He has significantly changed, and I mostly blame it on his TBI. Before the accident he was a very involved dad. He was the soccer coach, he went to school functions, he was the pack leader for the Cub Scouts. He knew what was going on at school and in the lives of his kids. I can’t say that now. Yes he knows the minimum, but he makes no effort to really be an engaged father. I used to beg and beg him to do the school stuff and be involved. Most of the time I could talk him into it, but it was always a struggle. Now I have stopped.

I had an ahha moment last year when our son was starting high school. He decided to go to a private high school. I had helped him with all the application stuff, went to all the meetings, went to the scheduling while my husband was totally uninterested in the process. I even went as far as to call up the Admissions Director and explain the situation and ask if my husband could come in to tour the building, meet some of the staff etc. Of course she was very willing to accommodate anything we wanted. So I told him and basically got a ummm humm from him. At that moment I asked myself what the hell am I doing. If he wants to go see his son’s new school, he can call up and ask himself. Why am I always trying to force him into the things I think he should want to do? That day I stopped. Now if he wants to come, I try to make it happen. If he doesn’t, I go on my own. So right or wrong, that is the way it is now. His decision has also eliminated some of the kids’ embarrassment since he rarely shows up at school.

I guess this seems rather odd, but I’m not sure the boys totally see it that way. They were just starting 1^st and 2^nd grades when the accident happened, so they hardly remember what an engaged father was like. Maybe this almost seems normal to them. I’m sure you will correct me here Dan. Go ahead.

Rbf: I would be very interested to hear what your daughter says. Please share it with us.

Dan, wonder if my kids would call you a creeper if you asked them about their feelings. My guess is yes! Join the creeper club.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

ratherbflyin — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 21:03:13 GMT

I was fortunate that the kids and parents my daughter went to middle school and high school with knew me before and after my accident. These families went through the transition with us, so with most of her friends, they were able to see for themselves that even though I looked different, I was basically the same mom they knew before.

I agree that it is more difficult when kids are meeting new friends, trying to find their own identity and place in their own world, questions and curious stares are cumbersome for everyone to deal with. I would be interested to hear how that conversation goes, Trish. I think it's a conversation that I might have with my youngest daughter since she is the one who has been with me on a day to day basis after the crash.

I will be very interested to hear my daughter's response. Perhaps we could share those responses Trish. Thanks, Dan.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Dan Gottlieb — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 20:52:59 GMT

A story:
Before my accident, my best friend was a guy in the neighborhood. I'll call him Bob. We had similar interests and our wives were friends. So we would play racquetball together twice a week, maybe play golf every now and then and get together with our spouses on weekends. My best friend.
When I had my accident, Bob Kane to the hospital every day and fed me lunch. My best friend. And then after a couple of months, I never saw him again, and never found out why.

As you can imagine my initial reaction was deep hurt and rage. My greatest nightmare was that I was so useless and hopeless that everyone would leave me. His absence confirmed my fears.

I held on to that anger and righteous indignation for years. It felt the same as having a cavity that for some reason we need to put our tongue into just to make sure it still hurts. And like the cavity, it still hurt.

But over the years, my life got busier and more full and my mind got further away from 1980 in Jefferson Hospital. And so whatever wound Bob's absence created, it began to heal.

It was obvious Bob was following my career because every five years or so I would get a letter or e-mail congratulating me for something I had done. I would always write back but wouldn't hear from him again for several years. Eventually I realized how much pain he had been carrying for all these years and I felt compassion for him. My wound had healed, his didn't.

On December 21, I wrote my final column for the Philadelphia Inquirer. In it, I said that health problems were part of what motivated me to stop writing. I got an e-mail shortly thereafter from Bob asking, for the first time, if he could come down from his home in New York to visit me in South Jersey.

The visit took place a few days ago. Almost 30 years to the day since I saw him last. When he opened the door, we embraced. After about an hour of exchanging information about our lives over the past 30 years we got down to the big question: "what the hell happened?"

The story he told seemed to lack some information as he told me my wife was angry at him and told him not to visit, but he didn't know why. So he stayed away and then didn't know when to come back. When I asked him why continued to stay away, first he said he didn't know and then he said "I was just scared".
He didn't know what he was afraid of. And maybe it didn't matter. Because all he had to do was to stop respecting his fear and come down and make eye contact with me.

When he left, I admired his courage for making that trip. And I felt so terribly sad that he suffered all those years.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Dan Gottlieb — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 20:25:51 GMT

When my kids were young, they were embarrassed having a father in a wheelchair. And they were embarrassed to tell anyone they were embarrassed. So they made excuses for me not to come to the school for various activities. I came anyway. I understood their shame about having a father who was so "different". Because that made them different. And if there's anything kids between 12 and 17 need, it's to be like all the other kids.
Their shame about me didn't hurt my feelings, it just made me so sad they had to endure that. "More pain and suffering from this damn accident" I said to myself.
As they aged, they were still embarrassed about me, but it was because I was a father and a grown-up and I was very cool. It had nothing to do with quadriplegia. I was happy about that.

Your son is an interesting combination of someone who is focused on the outside and wants to look and act a certain way -- not unusual. At the same time, he is obviously conscientious and bright and knows the importance of good grades and achieves them whether it is cool or not.

Research shows that kids who grow up in a home where there is a disability tend to be more caring and compassionate. So shame and scar tissue is not the only byproduct.

I wish I could talk to your kids. I would love to hear them talk about what it's like to have a paralyzed dad. Maybe you could do it instead of me!

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Trish-411 — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 18:15:07 GMT

Dan,

Have you been talking to my kids? Their every move is based on the coolness factor. Even the good things, like positive recognition, seems negative to them if they perceive it isn’t cool.

One of my sons has straight As and had a 4.0 for the semester. The principal planned a special lunch at school for the 4.0 kids. The only reason I knew about it was that an invitation was sent home in the mail. My son absolutely refused to go to the lunch. It wasn’t cool. They tell me I just don’t get it, and I guess they are somewhat right. Things seemed a little simpler back in my day.

When I graduated from high school there was one diploma. You graduated and got a state diploma. Pretty simple. Now in Indiana there are 3 high school diplomas, the measly CORE 40, the honors, and the IB (International Baccalaureate). You basically have to start planning in 8^th grade what kind of diploma you need based on what college you desire and get busy day one of high school. It really is a lot on these young people. Add all that and guiding your life using the coolness method, it’s overwhelming. Overwhelming for both the kids and the parents of these “trying to be cool kids.” I haven’t yet figure out how the trauma of being in the accident that paralyzed their dad is ultimately going to play out in their lives. I pray it becomes a positive rather than a negative. But right now, it isn’t cool to have a paralyzed dad, and they never talk about the accident. Like most things, I guess time will tell.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

ratherbflyin — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 22:29:38 GMT

I think that is so true. It's one of the rare gifts received in this situation and one to hold onto rather than allowing it to drop by the wayside. Many days I feel like I'm straddling two different worlds even though I know which one makes more sense. Guess that's the byproduct of having close contact with a young adult striving to discover her own life goals.

She is exactly where I was at age 20, but with a touch more life experience - not enough to dissuade strictly material goals but enough to be aware that it is important to enjoy each day as it presents itself.

I keep talking about the importance of choosing what she loves to do and the money will come, but she's a bit more pragmatic and is not thoroughly convinced. Regardless of the route she chooses, she will succeed. Of that, I am certain. She as already done so by being who she is.

Re: Questions for Dr. Dan - Puzzle Pieces

Dan Gottlieb — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 20:26:56 GMT

several years ago I read an article that said adolescent brains sometimes need 10 to 12 hours sleep a day. And from what we have observed, those brains can be sleeping soundly whether the body is awake or not! That's why adolescents are so scary.

When I speak with adolescents, they want to talk about the great stressors in their lives -- the pressures to get good grades, good resumes, good bodies and good looks. And be very cool at the same time. It's sad because younger children know what's true and important.

They know that love and closeness with people is what counts, that joy is easily accessed and living life fully comes naturally.

And then they become more like their parents.

I like to think one of the gifts of trauma, mine anyway, is it resets my spiritual compass.

Most of us who lived through trauma reconnect with the importance of love and relationships.