Anyone following my blog may have noticed the psychological journey I have been taking over the past few years, wanting to put something back into society and getting increasingly interested in social issues. You may also have read about my emotional crisis as I felt the reality of my own mortality during my fight with swine flu at the same time as I was questioning what my response to evil (ie, the massacre in Rwanda and the bombing of innocent children in Gaza) could and should be.
You may have spotted my moment of liberation when I came to understand that the evil in this world comes about from the indifference of the good, the lack of positive action and intervention by the strong, healthy, wealthy and free on behalf of the weak, sick, poor and persecuted people of this world.
This conviction gave me a renewed sense of purpose that I no longer have to ask myself 'why am I doing this?' when spending time addressing an issue of injustice or social need that may not directly have any benefit for myself. Life for me is one big test. I have been given a lot (health, intelligence, freedom, etc) - what am I going to do with that which I have been given? This is the game of life.
So with this renewed sense of purpose, following my brief encounter with the grim reaper, I started to make slightly different decisions. I started to to ask myself at every occasion whether I really was doing what I could and should do.
This started in the supermarket. I would have called myself an occasional conscious shopper - the odd Fairtrade packet of tea (especially when they were on offer!), mostly trying to avoid the caged eggs (especially when Happy Eggs were on their introductory price) and using reusable bags when I remembered (especially if they looked cool and had the 'Animal' logo on the side).
Now this has changed. Turned up to the supermarket without my bags, what did I do - not use any. I got a few funny looks wheeling a trolley out of the supermarket not in any bags and loading each individual item into my car - but at least my conscience was clear and I should remember my bags next time. I got a grilling from my husband after spending an extra 50p on eggs whilst we are having to borrow a huge amount of money to pay for an operation for a family member - this made me feel bad, so we have come to an agreement, if he wants eggs from caged hens then he'll have to buy them himself - I just can't bring myself to do that anymore.
Some guy had posted a suicide note on his blog that got indexed via MedWorm. I was emailed by one of the site visitors that was concerned about the issue and wondered if I could do anything to reach out to him. I did have his email so thought to send him one. Usually I would have left it at that, but my new conviction told me that wasn't enough, so I went out of my way to track down his details and tried to call him, as well as some people in his area that might be able to reach out to him. Last I hear he is still alive after a stay in hospital - don't know the exact details, or whether my small effort made the slightest bit of difference in the larger chain of events, but my conscience was clear that I had done everything I personally could when challenged to care.
I decided to take more of an interest in politics. I did not like politics, and had yet to meet a politician that I really liked or thought I could trust at all, so generally steered clear of them like many people do. I realised that this attitude is wrong. If I am to have a positive impact on this world then I must show more of an interest. Feeling motivated by Obama's victory, believing that there must be a few good people out there, I noticed a leaflet from a local guy running for a position as our local member of parliament (Luke Pollard) - thought he seemed quite a nice guy and contacted him to ask him some questions about politics and what motivates him. I figured that even if I couldn't quite bring myself to support a party, if I could at least find a single person in politics that I liked and could share some ideas with then that would be a start.
Luke brought to my attention the matter of a huge incinerator that is being proposed for less than 2 miles from where I live. I was horrified to learn that planning permission for it was due to be submitted in just a matter of weeks, and yet none of my neighbours knew about the matter.
So I met with Luke and a few other concerned residents, and next thing I'm building a website to raise awareness about the incinerator issue, giving out leaflets and knocking on doors. I was pretty open minded about the matter, the pros and cons of the proposal, but as I researched the issue I became more and more convinced that the issue of incineration is a huge one that urgently needs addressing by people worldwide.
Huge incinerators are proposed for the disposal of our waste all across the UK, and I understand in many other countries too. The accumulative effects of a large number of new incinerators, emitting dioxins that are persistent and bioaccumulative, as well as producing ash that is high in metals and other toxins that ends up in landfill anyway, have major implications for future generations for our entire planet.
So now my social action and conscience brings me back to the matter of health, which is what I am all about!
Will tell you more about my adventures shortly....(watch this space because I have a feeling that this is about to get very interesting)
Thursday, 12 November 2009
Thursday, 15 October 2009
Make a Prayer
Just finished posting my last blog item 'call to action' when I realised, as fate would have it, that the lyrics to the song that I happened to be listening to at that time were entirely relevant, so thought to share the song with you too.
A Call to Action
I have not blogged for a while. Reason being I have so many things going round my mind I wasn't sure which issue to write about first, and of course it all takes time, which is forever in short supply.
This post explains a fundamental belief that I have recently consolidated that underlies many of my motivations, and other posts that I wish to write, hence I decided this would be the best place to start.
This is my belief:
It is the inaction of the good that allows the bad to happen.
Put it another way:
'Minding your own business' or 'turning a blind eye' makes you guilty of the bad that occurs, that could have otherwise been avoided with your intervention.
When talking of all the bad things that happen in this world, many people conclude that there is no God, or at least not a loving God. My husband put it another way to me: It is not God who causes bad things to happen, but it is God's intervention that stops bad things happening. When you look at the chaos of matter, it is apparent that God intervened to bring about creation. Looking at the beginning of life, from the very start of conception, the forming of cells, the growth of the fetus to the delivery of the baby into this world - from the very beginning there are so many things that can go wrong, the fact that anyone can even get so far as to be born is evidence of God's intervention.
Bad things happen, all the time, chaos, and it is 'the good' that must intervene. Others would have it that the bad must be stopped. But my argument is that 'the good' must intervene, rather than the bad stopped, or chaos will reign.
It is not OK to be ambivalent. It is not OK to live your own good life, in your own little shell, when you have the power to do otherwise. Not if you believe in justice.
We all have varying degrees of ability and power. Our action in this world must take into consideration the resources available to us. We must make the most of what we have to intervene and with the purest of intentions, for if our core motivations are selfish rather than altruistic, or if we are dishonest with ourselves and fail to admit our own failings, we can easily fall into the trap of self-rightousness that could lead us to become part of an even bigger problem than that which we think we are trying to solve.
The belief is a religious one, since without the fundamental belief of God, a unifying force of goodness, and also justice, it makes little sense. The justice part is important - those with ability, power, conscience, they are the ones that must act - but there has to come at the end of it all some kind of reckoning, some kind of judgement as to how well we have performed, some kind of reward for those who do well, some kind of punishment for those who do bad, some redistribution of the wealth, some recompense for those who have had their unfair share of suffering - or else justice has no meaning. But I think the principle is common to all religions - and even my friend 'the humanist' may share some of the same ideas.
As a child I learned how to share and how to care for my dolly. I learned how to forgive my brother for kicking me under the table and all those nasty 'Chinese burns' he liked to inflict on my arm, as I came to realise that the bullying he experienced at school and the punishment inflicted on him by my father were bound to result in him finding some outlet for his aggression - I just happened to be a convenient punch bag, he really didn't mean any harm. Early on I came to understand a little about chain reactions - memories of war resulted in my grandfather drinking to forget, which resulted in maltreatment of his family, which resulted in emotional instability in my father, which resulted in him coming down really hard on my brother, which resulted in him finding it hard to make friends, which resulted in him getting bullied, which resulted in my brother taking it out on me. None of it was really anyone's fault, so I learned a lot about forgiveness, which was a good lesson to learn. I made some special friends and took on board their feelings. I learnt that lying was a bad thing and that we should treat other people the way we would like to be treated ourselves. I enjoyed school, doing academically well without any major effort, found it easy to make friends, and also enjoyed doing things on my own and especially creating (all kinds of things) in my own little bubble.
As a young teenager I started to understand that there were some really awful things happening outside our relatively cosy environment. The issues with my brother and my father's quick temper were minor problems compared to the threat of nuclear war. The images of emaciated children in Ethiopia that found their way onto all our TV screens were a complete shock to me that I struggled to comprehend. Every morning I always picked up whatever was nearest to me to read over my breakfast; increasingly it happened to be a copy of the Amnesty International magazine that would hang around in my parent's post. Stories of electrical shock treatment and prisoners of conscience digested with my Weetabix.
I remember the moment when I decided not to read or watch that stuff any more. It was during the 6 o'clock news. I don't remember the story that was being recounted but I have a vague recollection of images of tanks and explosions. All of a sudden I was overwhelmed; my confusion and feeling of inability to do anything about such events led me to shut the door on my compassion. My reaction was to choose to block out such information. I would live my life, the best I could, and the rest of the world could get lost. What other option did I have?
And from that day on I left the room whenever the my father was watching the news. I stopped reading the newspapers. I concentrated on me and my future, and did everything that a rebel teenager could do to have a good time and fulfil my desires, utterly self-centred, sprinkled with self-indulging moments of empathy that served to excuse my selfishness. The only problem was that it was a road to no-where, and as I grew older, wisdom started to beckon; a void within started to ache; a voice of depression and despair emerged. Somewhere deep down there I lost everything, and was left really with nothing of my own except a small flicker of faith, which became my rock on which to build a future.
It was a long process to find the strength to face up to the dilemma of existence, good versus bad, the meaning of life, and only just these recent days that I have consolidated just what it is that I believe to be true regarding injustice and evil, and what my response can and should be.
The belief that it is my obligation to do the best I can to make a positive impact on society changes everything for me. It is not enough for me to 'live a good life' looking out for me and my family, minding my own business, ensuring I don't do any harm to anyone, for I have been given intellect, resources, freedom and health, and therefore the obligation to respond accordingly gives me purpose that changes my life. The consequence of doing anything other than my best, of keeping silent when I know something is wrong, is that one day I can expect to be held accountable for future atrocities - this is terrifying, to be considered in some way responsible for the horrors that exist is my call to action. Such a terrible thought is what actually gives me power.
This reasoning forms the basis of my future.
(If you just stepped into my blog here and like this post you may also like the 'Make a Prayer' video that I posted next.)
This post explains a fundamental belief that I have recently consolidated that underlies many of my motivations, and other posts that I wish to write, hence I decided this would be the best place to start.
This is my belief:
It is the inaction of the good that allows the bad to happen.
Put it another way:
'Minding your own business' or 'turning a blind eye' makes you guilty of the bad that occurs, that could have otherwise been avoided with your intervention.
When talking of all the bad things that happen in this world, many people conclude that there is no God, or at least not a loving God. My husband put it another way to me: It is not God who causes bad things to happen, but it is God's intervention that stops bad things happening. When you look at the chaos of matter, it is apparent that God intervened to bring about creation. Looking at the beginning of life, from the very start of conception, the forming of cells, the growth of the fetus to the delivery of the baby into this world - from the very beginning there are so many things that can go wrong, the fact that anyone can even get so far as to be born is evidence of God's intervention.
Bad things happen, all the time, chaos, and it is 'the good' that must intervene. Others would have it that the bad must be stopped. But my argument is that 'the good' must intervene, rather than the bad stopped, or chaos will reign.
It is not OK to be ambivalent. It is not OK to live your own good life, in your own little shell, when you have the power to do otherwise. Not if you believe in justice.
We all have varying degrees of ability and power. Our action in this world must take into consideration the resources available to us. We must make the most of what we have to intervene and with the purest of intentions, for if our core motivations are selfish rather than altruistic, or if we are dishonest with ourselves and fail to admit our own failings, we can easily fall into the trap of self-rightousness that could lead us to become part of an even bigger problem than that which we think we are trying to solve.
The belief is a religious one, since without the fundamental belief of God, a unifying force of goodness, and also justice, it makes little sense. The justice part is important - those with ability, power, conscience, they are the ones that must act - but there has to come at the end of it all some kind of reckoning, some kind of judgement as to how well we have performed, some kind of reward for those who do well, some kind of punishment for those who do bad, some redistribution of the wealth, some recompense for those who have had their unfair share of suffering - or else justice has no meaning. But I think the principle is common to all religions - and even my friend 'the humanist' may share some of the same ideas.
As a child I learned how to share and how to care for my dolly. I learned how to forgive my brother for kicking me under the table and all those nasty 'Chinese burns' he liked to inflict on my arm, as I came to realise that the bullying he experienced at school and the punishment inflicted on him by my father were bound to result in him finding some outlet for his aggression - I just happened to be a convenient punch bag, he really didn't mean any harm. Early on I came to understand a little about chain reactions - memories of war resulted in my grandfather drinking to forget, which resulted in maltreatment of his family, which resulted in emotional instability in my father, which resulted in him coming down really hard on my brother, which resulted in him finding it hard to make friends, which resulted in him getting bullied, which resulted in my brother taking it out on me. None of it was really anyone's fault, so I learned a lot about forgiveness, which was a good lesson to learn. I made some special friends and took on board their feelings. I learnt that lying was a bad thing and that we should treat other people the way we would like to be treated ourselves. I enjoyed school, doing academically well without any major effort, found it easy to make friends, and also enjoyed doing things on my own and especially creating (all kinds of things) in my own little bubble.
As a young teenager I started to understand that there were some really awful things happening outside our relatively cosy environment. The issues with my brother and my father's quick temper were minor problems compared to the threat of nuclear war. The images of emaciated children in Ethiopia that found their way onto all our TV screens were a complete shock to me that I struggled to comprehend. Every morning I always picked up whatever was nearest to me to read over my breakfast; increasingly it happened to be a copy of the Amnesty International magazine that would hang around in my parent's post. Stories of electrical shock treatment and prisoners of conscience digested with my Weetabix.
I remember the moment when I decided not to read or watch that stuff any more. It was during the 6 o'clock news. I don't remember the story that was being recounted but I have a vague recollection of images of tanks and explosions. All of a sudden I was overwhelmed; my confusion and feeling of inability to do anything about such events led me to shut the door on my compassion. My reaction was to choose to block out such information. I would live my life, the best I could, and the rest of the world could get lost. What other option did I have?
And from that day on I left the room whenever the my father was watching the news. I stopped reading the newspapers. I concentrated on me and my future, and did everything that a rebel teenager could do to have a good time and fulfil my desires, utterly self-centred, sprinkled with self-indulging moments of empathy that served to excuse my selfishness. The only problem was that it was a road to no-where, and as I grew older, wisdom started to beckon; a void within started to ache; a voice of depression and despair emerged. Somewhere deep down there I lost everything, and was left really with nothing of my own except a small flicker of faith, which became my rock on which to build a future.
It was a long process to find the strength to face up to the dilemma of existence, good versus bad, the meaning of life, and only just these recent days that I have consolidated just what it is that I believe to be true regarding injustice and evil, and what my response can and should be.
The belief that it is my obligation to do the best I can to make a positive impact on society changes everything for me. It is not enough for me to 'live a good life' looking out for me and my family, minding my own business, ensuring I don't do any harm to anyone, for I have been given intellect, resources, freedom and health, and therefore the obligation to respond accordingly gives me purpose that changes my life. The consequence of doing anything other than my best, of keeping silent when I know something is wrong, is that one day I can expect to be held accountable for future atrocities - this is terrifying, to be considered in some way responsible for the horrors that exist is my call to action. Such a terrible thought is what actually gives me power.
This reasoning forms the basis of my future.
(If you just stepped into my blog here and like this post you may also like the 'Make a Prayer' video that I posted next.)
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
Little One Step
Once of the benefits of being a working parent with a young child is that you have are constantly forced to stop and look at the basic teachings of life. Each evening I am obliged to read a little story to my young son (one of my nicest duties in life). Sometimes they are beautiful, sometimes funny stories, often with a little (or big) life message that I probably benefit more from than my son.
One of my favourite books that I happened across is 'Little One Step' by Simon James. It tells the story of a little duckling out for a walk with his bigger siblings. He has to walk through a wood to get home, and each time he stops and looks at the tall dark trees he is afraid, but his siblings teach him to just concentrate on taking a 'little one step', and then another, and then another. Before he knows it he is home, feeling very proud of himself!
When I look at my plans for MedWorm and the mountain of code I have yet to write I often feel overwhelmed, but then I just concentrate on a little one step, and then another. I guess like swimming The Channel, running a marathon, rowing The Atlantic, just concentrating on the 'little one steps', not worrying too much about what is to come, or looking for too long at where you have been, just taking 'little one step, little one step, little one step...'
Simon James also wrote 'Baby Brains', which I stumbled upon this week. Completely different, but very amusing!
Monday, 20 July 2009
Swine Flu Anxiety
Honestly today I am soooo much better. I can now say for sure that I am disease free - still weak, but today I can actually say the coughing has stopped and each day I am feeling stronger. But last week I had one of the worst nights of my life. No joke, I really thought I was dying!
As with most days over the past few weeks I woke feeling a little better, but in the afternoon my cough got worse and became very tiresome come the evening and into the night. This particular evening, feeling truly exhausted and in need of a good night's sleep, but unable to stop the coughing whenever I lay down, my husband gave me a sore throat sweet that included in it an anaesthetic to help relax my throat which he said had helped him.
Indeed my throat muscles did relax, but then I started to feel really anxious that there was mucous building up in my lungs that I was unable to cough up.
I gave up trying to sleep and instead decided to have a steam with some Vicks in hot water and a towel over my head. Whilst doing so I made the mistake of continuing with a read of 'An Imperfect Offering: Dispatches from the medical frontline'. It is the autobiography of James Orbinski, past president of Medicine Sans Frontieres. I was part way through the chapter which recounts his time spent in Rwanda during the genocide that took place in 1994, when an estimated 1 million men, women and children were butchered to death in a matter of just 12 weeks. I had reached a particularly harrowing scene which involved many orphaned children when I put down the book and realised I could read no more since I felt sick to my core. Empathy is one of my strengths and imagination is another; I had seen too much and was feeling traumatised by the scene which was now imprinted on my memory.
I then decided to try sleeping sitting up, since lying down triggered the coughing, so wrapped a quilt around me and tried to get comfortable on the couch. That is when I started to feel short of breath and my pulse increased. I also felt a little nauseous and started to panic that maybe I had overdosed on cough medicine - I had completely lost track of how much I had drunk. My husband came downstairs to find me in a traumatised state and unable to speak easily to explain how I felt.
My (doctor) husband, after running through all my symptoms (palpitations, high pulse, sweaty, dry mouth, nausea), started to draw to the conclusion that I was likely suffering from anxiety, that my symptoms where perhaps psychologically induced. I honestly believed him, everything fitted, but I still couldn't get rid of that feeling that I was fighting for my life, to the point where I suggested a few times that he call an ambulance (to which he replied 'what for? all you are going to do is sit in A&E for a few hours and then get sent home').
All night I felt sick, trying to control my breathing and slow down the palpitations, trying to get some sleep, but each time I shut my eyes I felt like I was fighting to get my breath and all I could see was horrific scenes in Rwanda that I would have liked to tell myself were just a bad dream, but which I knew had really happened. The anxiety continued throughout the night. I managed to snatch maybe 20 minutes sleep here and there come the end of the night.
The next morning I felt slightly better for a short while, and then the anxiety started to return. It was stronger than me and try as much as I wanted to control it I was struggling. After a few hours tossing and turning, and then a few hours pacing up and down like a crazy woman, I decided that I simply had to get a grip of myself or else face a life of complete hopelessness.
I agreed not to finish the book and to instead read some light material for a change. Also to stop listening to the news and counting the swine flu death toll. I also shut down my computer and agreed to do nothing for a few days except spend time with my children. All this helped. I spent the day at the park, but as evening drew closer, and I knew that my husband had to work that night, I started to feel anxious again with the fear that the night would bring back the same terror of the night before, only this time my husband would not be there to help.
I know that many young and middle aged women become somewhat dependant on tranquillizers and sleeping tablets as a result of anxiety, and for the first time in my life I understood why and just how destructive this condition can be. Probably fortunately for me I was also anxious of what effect taking a tranquillizer could have on me, so was reluctant to take drugs and first wanted to try all possible natural methods before taking any medication. My fear was also that if I couldn't get a grip of my anxiety without drugs to calm my nerves, that I would always need them in the future.
I first looked for a lighter read and returned to the autobiography of Barack Obama. Then I remembered how the Psalms of David had helped me in previous life trials and thought to read a few verses. And then I remembered my guitar. It had been years since I had played, but it had been a trusty friend upon which I had come to rely during times of solitude in a previous life.
I was surprised to find that I had not forgotten how to play and within minutes of playing and singing a few lines (to my creator) I felt all the tension drain from me and I knew I was going to be fine. That night I shut my eyes with peace. I listened to a subtle voice telling me 'relax and I will heal you'. I knew then that I didn't have to make myself cough, I just had to relax and all the mucous would just work its way up on its own. That night I slept for the first time in four weeks (no joke - had actually been much longer before I had got a good nights sleep, since before I was ill my son had woken be every night for 3 weeks with his illness).
I was only woken by my husband who called me from his work at the hospital to check if I was able to get to sleep or in need of some medication. I told him I was just fine and wasn't going to have any more issues with anxiety.
I know now that whenever anxiety returns in my life all I need do is play my guitar. Of course relaxing music has always been used to help calm people down, but I would suggest that a much more effective remedy, rather than just listening to music, is playing music (and getting in touch with your soul). Maybe all those people suffering with a long term anxiety disorder would be well to take up playing a musical instrument?
I suspect I am not the only person who will be suffering anxiety as a result of the swine flu. It wasn't just the swine flu that left me in this state, it was a combination of things (extreme fatigue, overwork, locking my keys in the car, housework building up, worry for my children's health, a growing interest in and concern for human rights and past atrocities, etc...) but the swine flu pushed me over the edge, since it exhausted me physically and it also worried me mentally.
If you are worried about the swine flu, I'd encourage you to turn off the tv, stop reading the media, eat healthily, sleep well and relax! Do lots of fun things and then maybe you'll recover a lot quicker.
For those with an interest in anxiety, here's the MedWorm topic on Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). For those stepping into my blog now interested in swine flu, make sure to check out my previous swine flu posts in the blog archive at the side, or you can start my swine flu experience here.
(Update: Now fighting fit physically, but the whole 'feeling close to death' thing has had a significant impact on me. Left me still struggling somewhat with anxiety and also revisiting some of my fundamental beliefs about life.)
As with most days over the past few weeks I woke feeling a little better, but in the afternoon my cough got worse and became very tiresome come the evening and into the night. This particular evening, feeling truly exhausted and in need of a good night's sleep, but unable to stop the coughing whenever I lay down, my husband gave me a sore throat sweet that included in it an anaesthetic to help relax my throat which he said had helped him.
Indeed my throat muscles did relax, but then I started to feel really anxious that there was mucous building up in my lungs that I was unable to cough up.
I gave up trying to sleep and instead decided to have a steam with some Vicks in hot water and a towel over my head. Whilst doing so I made the mistake of continuing with a read of 'An Imperfect Offering: Dispatches from the medical frontline'. It is the autobiography of James Orbinski, past president of Medicine Sans Frontieres. I was part way through the chapter which recounts his time spent in Rwanda during the genocide that took place in 1994, when an estimated 1 million men, women and children were butchered to death in a matter of just 12 weeks. I had reached a particularly harrowing scene which involved many orphaned children when I put down the book and realised I could read no more since I felt sick to my core. Empathy is one of my strengths and imagination is another; I had seen too much and was feeling traumatised by the scene which was now imprinted on my memory.
I then decided to try sleeping sitting up, since lying down triggered the coughing, so wrapped a quilt around me and tried to get comfortable on the couch. That is when I started to feel short of breath and my pulse increased. I also felt a little nauseous and started to panic that maybe I had overdosed on cough medicine - I had completely lost track of how much I had drunk. My husband came downstairs to find me in a traumatised state and unable to speak easily to explain how I felt.
My (doctor) husband, after running through all my symptoms (palpitations, high pulse, sweaty, dry mouth, nausea), started to draw to the conclusion that I was likely suffering from anxiety, that my symptoms where perhaps psychologically induced. I honestly believed him, everything fitted, but I still couldn't get rid of that feeling that I was fighting for my life, to the point where I suggested a few times that he call an ambulance (to which he replied 'what for? all you are going to do is sit in A&E for a few hours and then get sent home').
All night I felt sick, trying to control my breathing and slow down the palpitations, trying to get some sleep, but each time I shut my eyes I felt like I was fighting to get my breath and all I could see was horrific scenes in Rwanda that I would have liked to tell myself were just a bad dream, but which I knew had really happened. The anxiety continued throughout the night. I managed to snatch maybe 20 minutes sleep here and there come the end of the night.
The next morning I felt slightly better for a short while, and then the anxiety started to return. It was stronger than me and try as much as I wanted to control it I was struggling. After a few hours tossing and turning, and then a few hours pacing up and down like a crazy woman, I decided that I simply had to get a grip of myself or else face a life of complete hopelessness.
I agreed not to finish the book and to instead read some light material for a change. Also to stop listening to the news and counting the swine flu death toll. I also shut down my computer and agreed to do nothing for a few days except spend time with my children. All this helped. I spent the day at the park, but as evening drew closer, and I knew that my husband had to work that night, I started to feel anxious again with the fear that the night would bring back the same terror of the night before, only this time my husband would not be there to help.
I know that many young and middle aged women become somewhat dependant on tranquillizers and sleeping tablets as a result of anxiety, and for the first time in my life I understood why and just how destructive this condition can be. Probably fortunately for me I was also anxious of what effect taking a tranquillizer could have on me, so was reluctant to take drugs and first wanted to try all possible natural methods before taking any medication. My fear was also that if I couldn't get a grip of my anxiety without drugs to calm my nerves, that I would always need them in the future.
I first looked for a lighter read and returned to the autobiography of Barack Obama. Then I remembered how the Psalms of David had helped me in previous life trials and thought to read a few verses. And then I remembered my guitar. It had been years since I had played, but it had been a trusty friend upon which I had come to rely during times of solitude in a previous life.
I was surprised to find that I had not forgotten how to play and within minutes of playing and singing a few lines (to my creator) I felt all the tension drain from me and I knew I was going to be fine. That night I shut my eyes with peace. I listened to a subtle voice telling me 'relax and I will heal you'. I knew then that I didn't have to make myself cough, I just had to relax and all the mucous would just work its way up on its own. That night I slept for the first time in four weeks (no joke - had actually been much longer before I had got a good nights sleep, since before I was ill my son had woken be every night for 3 weeks with his illness).
I was only woken by my husband who called me from his work at the hospital to check if I was able to get to sleep or in need of some medication. I told him I was just fine and wasn't going to have any more issues with anxiety.
I know now that whenever anxiety returns in my life all I need do is play my guitar. Of course relaxing music has always been used to help calm people down, but I would suggest that a much more effective remedy, rather than just listening to music, is playing music (and getting in touch with your soul). Maybe all those people suffering with a long term anxiety disorder would be well to take up playing a musical instrument?
I suspect I am not the only person who will be suffering anxiety as a result of the swine flu. It wasn't just the swine flu that left me in this state, it was a combination of things (extreme fatigue, overwork, locking my keys in the car, housework building up, worry for my children's health, a growing interest in and concern for human rights and past atrocities, etc...) but the swine flu pushed me over the edge, since it exhausted me physically and it also worried me mentally.
If you are worried about the swine flu, I'd encourage you to turn off the tv, stop reading the media, eat healthily, sleep well and relax! Do lots of fun things and then maybe you'll recover a lot quicker.
For those with an interest in anxiety, here's the MedWorm topic on Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). For those stepping into my blog now interested in swine flu, make sure to check out my previous swine flu posts in the blog archive at the side, or you can start my swine flu experience here.
(Update: Now fighting fit physically, but the whole 'feeling close to death' thing has had a significant impact on me. Left me still struggling somewhat with anxiety and also revisiting some of my fundamental beliefs about life.)
Thursday, 16 July 2009
My Swine Flu Update
Just in case you were wondering what happened to me, another 6 days later and I am still coughing! The antibiotics have certainly taken the edge off the illness by putting a halt to the secondary bacterial infection that was starting, and took the pain away that was developing in my chest, but I was left I think with a lingering case of viral bronchitis that wasn't going anywhere fast.
Realising that modern medicine didn't have much to offer me I looked into some natural remedies and then went out and bough a big bag of licorice and a bottle of cinnamon leaf oil. Not sure how much effect the licorice has, but I have been surprised at the almost instant relief to my symptoms and also lift to my mood that I experienced from just a drop of cinnamon leaf oil (not to be placed on the skin or taken orally, but just inhaled, and not in large quantities either, just one drop seems very strong).
The day after (which was yesterday) I was feeling much better, but then in the afternoon and evening, and well into the night (2am) I did some more heavy duty coughing as whatever must have been lodged deep in my lungs from the now shifting illness started to make a move up.
Not nice to detail, but for medical purposes I will tell you that it was yellow and incredibly sticky stuff like I have never experienced before in my life. Even though I was feeling much better in myself, it was at times a little scary getting this stuff up as I started to wonder whether the sticky stuff might block my airway altogether, so did some steaming with Vicks in hot water and a towel over my head which I think helped, as did another drop of the cinnamon leaf oil.
Finally got to sleep at 2.30am, too exhausted (again) to cough any more. Hoping for further improvement in my condition today! (yes that doesn't sound like improvement, but all the while I have been feeling better in myself like the infection is diminishing).
The other symptom I forgot to mention was a white furry tongue with red spots - we've all had it. I was one of my first symptoms, nearly four weeks back now, and I noticed I still have it today. I think that when my tongue returns to normal I will know that I am finally better.
4 weeks ill with the swine flu: week 1 getting ill, week 2 definitely ill getting worse, week 3 getting better in the mornings then relapsing in the afternoons, week 4 fighting off the secondary bacterial infection and then starting to get better (I think/hope). Who said this thing would be gone in 7 to 10 days?
Let me make this clear, I am a fit and healthy women in mid 30s, my husband also (although not a woman!) suffering the same duration of illness, my father too, in his 60s, but also fit and healthy. My younger sister (in 20s) was also ill for weeks, but I think closer to 3 than 4 weeks. My son, aged 4 (also normally healthy), was ill a few days sooner than us, was more seriously ill at the beginning (very high temperature in particular) but seems to have recovered much quicker (although again this morning a touch warm and a little cough so I hope nothing is returning).
I can understand why pregnant women are at high risk since there is no way I could have managed the heavy duty coughing in my third trimester.
Lots of reports around that this is no more serious than seasonal flu. I have had seasonal flu a couple of times. Seasonal flu made me feel awful, very achy, heavy head cold, extremely week, but at no time concerned that what I had could be life threatening. With this I didn't feel as achy or wiped out, but the cough is the worst I have experienced (bar the whooping cough I had as a young child that I still remember) and at times when I was fighting to get the stuff out of my airways I was truly scared as to how much worse things were going to get and very aware of my mortality.
When my mother started to develop symptoms a few days ago she took no messing around - knowing that it is only effective if taken in the first few days of symptoms she insisted that the doctor prescribe her Tamiflu since she had seen how much my father had suffered and she was not prepared to go through the same. Good for her I say! Not normally very assertive, she was well informed and took her health into her own hands - she had strong evidence to suggest that we had the swine flu, that she was developing it, and knew that the Tamiflu had to be prescribed straight away if it was to be of any effect, and had the courage to call her GP and argue her case. I think this was sensible. The rest of us did not ask for Tamiflu since we knew it was too late for us. My father was prescribed it even though he had been ill for 3 weeks, and confirmed that it had no effect on him whatsoever, but my mother is feeling her condition improve rather than deteriorate, thanks to her own swift action.
Now finding a 'flu buddy' who would be prepared to visit my mother for her id and prescription, and then travel to the Tamiflu distribution centre to wait with other 'swine flu buddies' (risking their own contamination) - that's a different story (a strategy that has obviously not been clearly thought through and I have to tell you does not work for even those people that have lots of friends in the community - so how it should work for someone that is more isolated I don't know).
Now if you want more information on swine flu, I have to tell you that you won't find a better source than the MedWorm swine flu updates (every hour, compiled from nearly 7,000 sources):
- Swine flu official news
- Swine flu in the medical blogs
- Swine flu discussions (join in by commenting on any of the swine flu articles in MedWorm)
If you have just stepped into my blog here, make sure to also read my posts on when I first realised I had swine flu and also about my swine flu recuperation. There's also now one more post about my swine flu episode that comes after this one, which talks about a swine flu anxiety attack I experienced, to round off my experience.
Realising that modern medicine didn't have much to offer me I looked into some natural remedies and then went out and bough a big bag of licorice and a bottle of cinnamon leaf oil. Not sure how much effect the licorice has, but I have been surprised at the almost instant relief to my symptoms and also lift to my mood that I experienced from just a drop of cinnamon leaf oil (not to be placed on the skin or taken orally, but just inhaled, and not in large quantities either, just one drop seems very strong).
The day after (which was yesterday) I was feeling much better, but then in the afternoon and evening, and well into the night (2am) I did some more heavy duty coughing as whatever must have been lodged deep in my lungs from the now shifting illness started to make a move up.
Not nice to detail, but for medical purposes I will tell you that it was yellow and incredibly sticky stuff like I have never experienced before in my life. Even though I was feeling much better in myself, it was at times a little scary getting this stuff up as I started to wonder whether the sticky stuff might block my airway altogether, so did some steaming with Vicks in hot water and a towel over my head which I think helped, as did another drop of the cinnamon leaf oil.
Finally got to sleep at 2.30am, too exhausted (again) to cough any more. Hoping for further improvement in my condition today! (yes that doesn't sound like improvement, but all the while I have been feeling better in myself like the infection is diminishing).
The other symptom I forgot to mention was a white furry tongue with red spots - we've all had it. I was one of my first symptoms, nearly four weeks back now, and I noticed I still have it today. I think that when my tongue returns to normal I will know that I am finally better.
4 weeks ill with the swine flu: week 1 getting ill, week 2 definitely ill getting worse, week 3 getting better in the mornings then relapsing in the afternoons, week 4 fighting off the secondary bacterial infection and then starting to get better (I think/hope). Who said this thing would be gone in 7 to 10 days?
Let me make this clear, I am a fit and healthy women in mid 30s, my husband also (although not a woman!) suffering the same duration of illness, my father too, in his 60s, but also fit and healthy. My younger sister (in 20s) was also ill for weeks, but I think closer to 3 than 4 weeks. My son, aged 4 (also normally healthy), was ill a few days sooner than us, was more seriously ill at the beginning (very high temperature in particular) but seems to have recovered much quicker (although again this morning a touch warm and a little cough so I hope nothing is returning).
I can understand why pregnant women are at high risk since there is no way I could have managed the heavy duty coughing in my third trimester.
Lots of reports around that this is no more serious than seasonal flu. I have had seasonal flu a couple of times. Seasonal flu made me feel awful, very achy, heavy head cold, extremely week, but at no time concerned that what I had could be life threatening. With this I didn't feel as achy or wiped out, but the cough is the worst I have experienced (bar the whooping cough I had as a young child that I still remember) and at times when I was fighting to get the stuff out of my airways I was truly scared as to how much worse things were going to get and very aware of my mortality.
When my mother started to develop symptoms a few days ago she took no messing around - knowing that it is only effective if taken in the first few days of symptoms she insisted that the doctor prescribe her Tamiflu since she had seen how much my father had suffered and she was not prepared to go through the same. Good for her I say! Not normally very assertive, she was well informed and took her health into her own hands - she had strong evidence to suggest that we had the swine flu, that she was developing it, and knew that the Tamiflu had to be prescribed straight away if it was to be of any effect, and had the courage to call her GP and argue her case. I think this was sensible. The rest of us did not ask for Tamiflu since we knew it was too late for us. My father was prescribed it even though he had been ill for 3 weeks, and confirmed that it had no effect on him whatsoever, but my mother is feeling her condition improve rather than deteriorate, thanks to her own swift action.
Now finding a 'flu buddy' who would be prepared to visit my mother for her id and prescription, and then travel to the Tamiflu distribution centre to wait with other 'swine flu buddies' (risking their own contamination) - that's a different story (a strategy that has obviously not been clearly thought through and I have to tell you does not work for even those people that have lots of friends in the community - so how it should work for someone that is more isolated I don't know).
Now if you want more information on swine flu, I have to tell you that you won't find a better source than the MedWorm swine flu updates (every hour, compiled from nearly 7,000 sources):
- Swine flu official news
- Swine flu in the medical blogs
- Swine flu discussions (join in by commenting on any of the swine flu articles in MedWorm)
If you have just stepped into my blog here, make sure to also read my posts on when I first realised I had swine flu and also about my swine flu recuperation. There's also now one more post about my swine flu episode that comes after this one, which talks about a swine flu anxiety attack I experienced, to round off my experience.
Thursday, 9 July 2009
Swine Flu Recuperation
Today I feel better. Yesterday after posting that I was on the mend I then seemed to take a turn for the worse - my temperature started to rise again, I developed pain across one side of my chest, started to sweat a lot and sensed my cough was changing into something maybe worse. So after 10 days of fighting this thing and feeling completely exhausted, I accepted it was about time to start antibiotics since my infection was likely turning bacterial. I started to read about pneumonia and decided I didn't want to take the risk.
I then started to worry about my father who seemed worse than myself and not really getting better either. I called my mother and insisted that she call the doctor the next morning whether he agreed or not. My father, in the typical British manner, prefers to struggle on without medical intervention. We are all now so conditioned by GPs telling us that what we have is a virus and there is nothing they can do for us, that many are now scared of calling a doctor unnecessarily. Recognising when one has deteriorated enough to make that call is tricky. I believe that often when ill and gradually deteriorating you are not able to take the right decision yourself, and the call is often made far too late.
Now 24 hours and 4 doses of antibiotics later I can safely say I am now feeling better. For the first time in days I was able to lie down and have a nap without coughing almost continuously. And my father now has his antibiotics too so I can relax I think. Phew!
Let me tell you, swine flu is no 'walk in the park'. Of course one shouldn't panic, but at the same time it should be taken seriously. I am fit and healthy without any underlying conditions, but I have to tell you there were a few moments when I really struggled and started to wonder how much worse the cough was going to get. It must really be a concern for the many people that do have underlying conditions.
Here's my swine flu tip: If you start to feel a little tired and unwell, take time out then, sleep a lot, eat really well, get lots of fluids, take some vitamins. Do everything you can to get shut of it in its early days. I instead carried on about my business. Although I felt very tired I did nothing to get more rest and I think that is partly why it hit me so hard the following week. My daughter, when she felt tired, slept, and slept, and slept, and then she was fine. Maybe that helped her?
Isn't it nice when we feel illness on the retreat and normal health start to return? Isn't good health such a wonderful thing?
Yesterday I watched a lady on the TV who had been awaiting a lung transplant for the last 2 years. She had cystic fibrosis. Everyone at the hospital talked about how wonderful she was and what a positive outlook she had. But without a lung transplant soon she will not have much future.
I asked my husband about cystic fibrosis. He said to think of the annoying secretions that I had experienced on my lungs over the past few weeks, and to imagine experiencing that all my life. I can't.
I wondered whether with new lungs she would be cured, or whether she would always suffer from this terrible condition.
Here's the MedWorm section on cystic fibrosis and here's the one on swine flu. You can read what happened next in my swine flu story here or read more about when I first realised I had the swine flu in my previous post.
I then started to worry about my father who seemed worse than myself and not really getting better either. I called my mother and insisted that she call the doctor the next morning whether he agreed or not. My father, in the typical British manner, prefers to struggle on without medical intervention. We are all now so conditioned by GPs telling us that what we have is a virus and there is nothing they can do for us, that many are now scared of calling a doctor unnecessarily. Recognising when one has deteriorated enough to make that call is tricky. I believe that often when ill and gradually deteriorating you are not able to take the right decision yourself, and the call is often made far too late.
Now 24 hours and 4 doses of antibiotics later I can safely say I am now feeling better. For the first time in days I was able to lie down and have a nap without coughing almost continuously. And my father now has his antibiotics too so I can relax I think. Phew!
Let me tell you, swine flu is no 'walk in the park'. Of course one shouldn't panic, but at the same time it should be taken seriously. I am fit and healthy without any underlying conditions, but I have to tell you there were a few moments when I really struggled and started to wonder how much worse the cough was going to get. It must really be a concern for the many people that do have underlying conditions.
Here's my swine flu tip: If you start to feel a little tired and unwell, take time out then, sleep a lot, eat really well, get lots of fluids, take some vitamins. Do everything you can to get shut of it in its early days. I instead carried on about my business. Although I felt very tired I did nothing to get more rest and I think that is partly why it hit me so hard the following week. My daughter, when she felt tired, slept, and slept, and slept, and then she was fine. Maybe that helped her?
Isn't it nice when we feel illness on the retreat and normal health start to return? Isn't good health such a wonderful thing?
Yesterday I watched a lady on the TV who had been awaiting a lung transplant for the last 2 years. She had cystic fibrosis. Everyone at the hospital talked about how wonderful she was and what a positive outlook she had. But without a lung transplant soon she will not have much future.
I asked my husband about cystic fibrosis. He said to think of the annoying secretions that I had experienced on my lungs over the past few weeks, and to imagine experiencing that all my life. I can't.
I wondered whether with new lungs she would be cured, or whether she would always suffer from this terrible condition.
Here's the MedWorm section on cystic fibrosis and here's the one on swine flu. You can read what happened next in my swine flu story here or read more about when I first realised I had the swine flu in my previous post.
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