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Mar 21, 2011

Temple Grandin Gives Me Hope

March 21, 2011 By
Seems like anytime I send for an old-fashioned DVD from Netflix, it then sits around our house for weeks and weeks before I ever get around to watching it, even if I was so excited to see it. Just another reason why instant streaming always wins in our house.
But I did finally dig the latest DVD out on Saturday night, and I sat down to watch the HBO movie, Temple Grandin. I roughly knew the story – a biopic about the life of a woman with autism who has gone on to do incredible things both in spite of and because of her different mind – and I was interested in learning more about Temple. I thought it might help me understand my own daughter a little bit more and maybe even help me feel more confident about her future. However, I wasn’t prepared for the emotional gut punch that came with the story.

If you have a child with autism, I highly recommend this movie. With tissues.

If you don’t have a child with autism, I also highly recommend this movie. Possibly with tissues.

The first part that brought tears to my eyes was near the beginning, in a flashback scene where her mother remembers when Temple was four years old and diagnosed with autism. Her mother asked how soon they could start treatment to cure her, and the doctor flatly told her that in these cases they recommended institutionalizing the child for life. Her mother’s reaction – one of confusion and horror – reached right out and grabbed my heart.

I’m thankful that research for autism has come so far since 1960. I can’t imagine being told my child would have no chance at a life outside of an institution. But I shared a similar reaction when the school told us they thought Cordy had autism. Oh sure, I put on a pretty brave stiff-upper-lip about the whole thing when it happened, but I can honestly say now that I was so very, very scared. In those first few days I was faced with an entirely different life plan for Cordy, one where I had to wonder if she’d ever be able to go to college, or have friends, or even live on her own. While it was a complete overreaction, for a short time autism felt like a death sentence for all of my hopes and dreams for my beautiful curly-headed firstborn.

Temple, despite being nonverbal at four years old, wasn’t put in an institution. Her mother worked with her daily, brought in others to teach her as well, and she eventually went to school, then to college, then to graduate school, and she now has her PhD. Her family didn’t give up on her, and they didn’t let her give up either. It was interesting to see how her family worked with her through her quirks and needs in high school and college, but at the same time they still insisted that some things must be done, no matter how difficult. I only wish the film had been longer to show more of how Temple was brought out of her shell as a child.

It was also painful to see how others treated and reacted to her. She was bullied, she was called a freak, and she was an easy target for others. I already know Cordy will face an onslaught of bullying in school, and I don’t know how to protect her. Thankfully she often doesn’t notice if someone teases her, but I know that kids don’t like to be ignored and will drive their point home if she misses it, physically if needed. She has such a gentle soul that believes everyone is good – how will I prepare for the day when that soul is crushed by cruelty and she realizes her rigid definition of humanity doesn’t fit?

The second time I cried was at the end, when Temple attended an autism conference and was asked to speak. Just the full realization that this woman – with autism – has led such a successful life overwhelmed me with happiness and hope. Her different way of thinking led her to design cattle pen systems that are considered some of the most humane ever invented, and over half of the feedlots and slaughterhouses in the US now use her designs.

She wouldn’t have been able to do it without being autistic and seeing the world the way she does. She’s published many articles and a few books on her work with animals, and she’s also written about what it’s like to have autism, how she overcame her challenges, and how she embraces her autism as a part of her. She meets nearly every definition of success.

I still have days when I look at Cordy and wonder what her life will be like. She’s come so incredibly far from that three year old who recited entire episodes of Dora but couldn’t carry on a simple conversation. The kid who had a 20 minute meltdown, trying to bash her head into the floor over and over, because her routine had changed, or the room was too loud, or she had touched fingerpaint.
She’s full of life, she’s outspoken (although she tends to talk way too much), and she’s smart. She still has no grasp of sarcasm, takes everything you say literally (never say you want to kill something in front of her), and is still bothered by certain sensory stimuli. Will she continue improving? Will she be successful?
I don’t know if she’ll go on to college, but I plan to do everything I can to get her ready for it if she wants to. Maybe even if she doesn’t want to – after all, Cordy needs a lot of pushing to face her fears and grow. If I didn’t force her to go outside of her comfort zone, she’d still be unable to deal with a loud room and still drinking only out of sippy cups. I feel like the bad guy when I make her do things she doesn’t want to do, but I really believe she has to conquer those fears if she’s going to realize her full potential.
I have yet to read any of Temple Grandin’s books, but I plan to add them to the top of my priority reading list. I want to know more about her experiences and how she felt about her family and teachers and how they challenged her. I want to better understand her in the hopes of better understanding my own daughter, and perhaps get some tips on how to better reach out to Cordy. I’m considering going to see Temple speak when she’s in Indianapolis in April, too.
So yeah, if you get the chance, add Temple Grandin to your Netflix queue or just buy it outright. And don’t wait as long as I did to watch it.

Full disclosure: Just because it needs to be said, no one contacted me asking me to review this film – I just wanted to watch it. Although the links above do contain my Amazon ID, meaning if you click on the link and buy the DVD, I get a few pennies in return.

Filed Under: Autism, being a mom, Cordy, reviews


Mar 18, 2011

Nobody Ever Said Life, Or Weight Loss, Was Fair

March 18, 2011 By

First, I had that Shamrock Shake yesterday. The only one I was allowing myself for the entire year. And it tasted…eh.

Either the memory was too grand in my mind, or they’ve changed the recipe, but it really wasn’t all I was hoping for, and afterward left a rock-like feeling in my stomach. Good thing I only planned on having one this year!

Weight loss can be so unfair at times. I’m kicking butt, working out, counting calories, choosing whole, nutritious foods over junk, and yet my weight loss has been only inching downward ever so slowly. Since January I’ve lost about 8 pounds.

My husband, on the other hand, has been working out just as hard and watching his foods just as closely and in the same amount of time has lost nearly 20 pounds.

That’s just not fair.

Now, I’m in no way trying to say he is undeserving of his accomplishment, because he’s really done a lot of work to get to where he is and deserves all of the praise he can get. I just wish I could see such a dramatic improvement in the same amount of time.

He points out that he had more weight to lose, which is technically true. But I’ve been tracking my calories and workouts very closely, and according to the science of it all, I should have lost more weight by now.

I love science, but I have to admit: when it comes to weight loss, science can’t be trusted.

There just seems to be an unknown factor with our bodies to ensure that just when you think you’ve got it figured out, you find you were completely wrong and still know nothing. Calories in, calories out is only one factor. Metabolism, gender, hormones, the number of fat cells you have, the type of foods you eat, your body structure, the way your body has reacted to dieting in the past, the daily wind speed and phase of the moon – there are so many unknowns with weight loss that it’s impossible to predict what the scale might display each week.

(OK, the last two may not be factors in weight loss. But then again, scientists might someday find they are, and I’ll then proclaim you heard it here first.)

I’m trying hard to not let it get me down. The scale is still moving in a downward trend – slooooooowly – and I’m making an effort to focus on the bigger picture instead of the number itself. So what if it takes me longer than I planned to get to my goal weight, as long as I do get there, right?

Still…sometimes I wish it was faster.

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With:


Mar 15, 2011

What I Learned At A Lady Gaga Concert

March 15, 2011 By

1. I’m old.

2. Because I’m old, I was only a little sad that I didn’t splurge on the standing-room-only floor tickets. When there was a 90 minute intermission between the opening act and the appearance of the Mother Monster, my feet and lower back appreciated my little seat. And the cup holder for my drink.

3. I’m not so old that I feel concerts are too loud. Sure, it was loud, but that’s exactly what I wanted.

4. I am old enough, however, to appreciate the role of Madonna in getting Lady Gaga to where she is today. Yes, Gaga has a great message of unity and accepting yourself, but you know Madge went there first. The torch has been passed and in its passing has been made brighter and stronger, but I remember when Madonna was first running with it.

5. It’s a lot harder to get out of your row to go to the bathroom when you have to step over the girl in a blue corset top and fishnet stockings who is already passed out in her seat from too much alcohol. And the opening act just finished.

6. I was severely under-dressed. I somehow missed the memo that this was a costume ball. The younger folks, however, did get the memo.

7. What I may lack in youth and beauty, I make up for in experience, wisdom and knowing how to dress for my body type.

8. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to wear spandex. Or fishnets. Or duct tape. Don’t they have friends?

9. Governors should not be allowed to attend Lady Gaga concerts. Because no matter how badass and free you feel at the concert, you lose some of that when you look over and see Governor Kasich sitting in section 205. It kinda felt like having your dad watching you at the concert.

10. But then I realize, hey, at least I’m not as old as him.

11. And I thank all that is mighty that he didn’t dress as a Little Monster. In spandex.

12. I apologize for planting that last image in your head.

13. I miss going to concerts. Aaron and I had a great time, and for 2+ hours I forgot about all of my responsibilities. (Other than remembering I had to go to work after the concert.) I may be old, but I realized I need to get out more often and just have fun.

14. But I won’t wear spandex. Or fishnets.

Filed Under: me me me, pop culture, random


Mar 10, 2011

Temptation

March 10, 2011 By

Now that we’re in the season of Lent, temptation seems like a topic worth discussing. Seems like everyone I know is giving up something for Lent, with the most popular shunned items being desserts, chocolate, or candy. It’ll probably only be a few days before some of them will be faced with temptation as they walk past the pastries in the grocery or are offered a chocolate by a friend. They’ll have to make the conscious decision to say no and accept that they can’t have that food they so long for.

I’m not participating in Lent, but I’ve been feeling the steady pull of temptation for months now as I work at giving up my old ways to create a healthier lifestyle and body for myself. I’ve had to look temptation in the eye and say “no” many times. This includes second helpings of dinner, bags of potato chips and chocolates placed in front of me, and the urge to remain on the couch rather than make the effort to exercise.

When I first started this, I had to go nearly cold turkey with many foods. It was too tempting to have a bag of chips in the house, because I knew that even if I only meant to eat a few, the urge to finish the bag would be too strong and I’d lose my willpower. Seemed easier to simply avoid my trigger foods as much as possible until I could learn to live without them.

But I knew this wasn’t a good long term plan. If you cut out all of your favorite foods forever, you’ll eventually be overcome by temptation and feelings of being deprived. You know where that leads: eventually you scream “Screw it!” and dive into a bag of Hershey’s Kisses mouth first. After you polish off the bag, you’re left feeling miserable, both from the physical stomach-ache and from beating yourself up mentally with guilt.

I completely avoided trigger foods for a short while, then began slowly allowing myself reasonable portions. I still don’t keep potato chips at home, but when I see them at work, I allow myself to grab a handful and enjoy them slowly. At work I’m less likely to overeat, so it was the perfect place to reintroduce trigger foods. I’ll even buy foods I love and bring them to work rather than take them home – sharing them with others helps keep me from overeating.

However, this time of the year – and I’m talking about Shamrock Shake and Girl Scout cookie season for those who might not know – is particularly hard for me. I know these are LIMITED TIME foods that I’m urged to shovel into my mouth as fast as possible because soon they’ll be GONE GONE GONE! The marketing message is clear: eat all you can while they’re still here!

In the past, this trick worked well. I love Shamrock Shakes, so once the sign was up at my local McDonald’s, I was making sure to get one each time I stopped by, and I was more likely to stop there for a meal because of the shake. When they’d run out before the end of the month, I was genuinely sad. I didn’t know if I had managed to drink enough of them to satisfy my craving until the next year.

Sad, isn’t it?

This year? I have yet to have a Shamrock Shake, but I won’t go without. I’m planning to get one on St. Patrick’s Day, and I’m going to love every last sip of it. I’ve told myself for weeks now that I only need one shake to enjoy the taste – 12 shakes aren’t going to help me remember the taste for the rest of the year any better than one.

As for the Girl Scout cookies – we’ve purchased several boxes, and in our house they tend to go quickly. This year I bought snack-sized baggies and we opened up each box and immediately separated the cookies into individual serving size baggies. If I want Thin Mints, I grab a bag, which has a single serving size of 4 cookies in it. It reminds me what a serving is and keeps me from absentmindedly eating an entire sleeve of them or letting temptation whisper in my ear: What’s one more cookie? Look, it’s right there, no one will notice. Now how about another?

Losing weight sucks. It involves making several hard choices every single day, often choosing against behavior patterns I’ve been set in for years. Sloth and temptation are my enemies, disguised as the “old” me. But I’ve learned their game, and I know that it’s not an all or nothing deal. I can still have foods I love, just in moderation. I won’t let an ice cream cone bring on waves of guilt or shame – I’ll savor every bite and remind myself that small treats are awesome occasionally.

Temptation won’t defeat me.

Filed Under: food Tagged With: ,


Mar 7, 2011

Losing My Mind (And Finding It Again), Part 3

March 7, 2011 By

(Continued from part 1 and part 2)

I’d like to say everything was sunshine and rainbows after that first pill, but that’s not the way it happened. I continued taking the pills as instructed, although I quickly found there were some side effects I didn’t like. My muscles tensed up sometimes. Occasionally my heart pounded hard and my head felt like it was in a vice. I wasn’t so sure the clear thoughts were worth the physical trade-offs. But it was easier to fall asleep without all of that noise in my head.

At my next check-up, I told everything to my doctor. First, she was amazed that I could sleep while taking the medication, saying many aren’t able to sleep and she often has to prescribe a sleeping pill as well. For the other symptoms, we agreed to try cutting the dose in half to see if it helped. She also suggested trying a different medication, but due to health insurance not covering any of these drugs, I needed to stick to the cheapest option.

Cutting the dose in half did help, and after a year and a half most of the physical symptoms have vanished. What I like the most about this medication is that it’s short-acting, so I only take it when I need it. This goes a long way in helping me feel like I’m not chained for life to a drug. If I know I’m going to need focus for a task, I take it. If it’s the weekend and we’ve got nothing planned, I skip it. My doctor encouraged me to take vacations from the medication, too, so that I don’t build up a tolerance and need a higher dose later. So far it seems to be working.

Even though the first time I took the medication I experienced complete silence in my head, it hasn’t remained that way. I still have to struggle for focus every single day. Some days are worse than others, but give my brain a chance to spin off in some random direction and it’ll quickly jump on it. The medication just makes my efforts for focus a little easier, and it provides a temporary defense so I can build up greater mental discipline against the waves of sensory onslaught that threaten to drown me on a daily basis.

At the end of last year, with my doctor’s guidance, I tried to stand alone without any pharmaceutical help. It had been over a year and I thought maybe I was ready. I wasn’t ready. By the end of a week I was a disorganized mess.

The hardest part of all of this has been the mixed reactions I get when I do tell people I have ADD. Some have been genuinely supportive and wonderful. Others have nodded and listened, but I could tell they didn’t quite believe me.

And some have been outright mean, stating that there’s nothing wrong with me and I’m just looking for an easy way to cope with a mind and life like any other. These people don’t believe in attention-deficit disorder, especially not for adults. I’m just lazy, weak in mind and discipline, and either I don’t have enough to do in life to sit around and think I have ADD, or I’m too busy and would be fine if I just cut out all of this “online” stuff and stuck to work and mothering.

(As you might guess, some of these people also don’t believe much in autism and think Cordy just needs more discipline.)

I can function now. I can carry a thought from the beginning to the end without losing it halfway through. I can do my job without struggling to push past random thoughts to retrieve the knowledge I need. I can focus on a conversation with a friend. It’s awesome.

I’m also still me, just more anchored in the moment than I was before. I can still recall obscure facts rapidly, I can still think several steps ahead of what I’m currently working on, and I have yet to be told that my personality has changed in any way other than being happier with my life.

This is all a journey, and I’m continuing to find my way through it. My focus still isn’t perfect. I may not need the medication in the future, or I may try a different medication when we have health insurance again. I don’t know how it will all play out. But I’m thrilled with the progress of the past year and a half, and I’m so thankful to feel like I’m in control of my mind again.

I’ve learned that mental disorders and illnesses are simply conditions and not something to be ashamed of. Seeking out help isn’t weakness, it’s taking care of yourself, just as you would diabetes or heart disease or an infection.

It’s good to be comfortable in my own head again.

Filed Under: clearly insane, me me me