Setting Boundaries

Fuck you very much 2014. Just when I thought this year was (finally) wrapping up nicely after a tumultuous, challenging and death defying crescendo, it throws two more curve balls that smack me right in the face.

It's true, my psychiatrist was right - my family do not do things by halves. When we're in, we're all in. We've had two terrible sets of news relating to my siblings. During a time when happiness is supposed to reign (Christmas and all that happy, fun shit), my two sisters have had to come to terms and deal with some terrible health related issues. It's been a downer to say the least.

When I was talking to one of my sisters and she ended up consoling me about her bad news - when I should have been the one consoling her, I got thinking. It reminded me of when I had the cardiac arrest and had to console family members in the hospital. All the meanwhile I wasn't quite sure what was going on myself. The shoe was on the other foot now.

My other sister handled her situation quite differently - not wanting to discuss anything, and with her boyfriend giving me the news.

The point I'm trying to get at - is bad news is bad news, no matter how it is communicated or received. There are so many confronting and uncomfortable emotions to deal with and that can make communication during these bad times more often than not, awkward. Everyone deals with things differently and there is no right or wrong way. It's whatever the individuals are comfortable with at the time.

Last year when my great niece died, her mother at times got very angry about the types of things that family and friends were saying in an attempt to console her. I get it, the world can be a fucked up place sometimes and when fucked up things happen like a healthy 9 month old dying suddenly, I'd be fucking angry too with probably anything anyone said or did. But she never said anything about it (except maybe indirectly rant on Facebook about it); she expected that everyone else should know what she wants to hear, in the way she wants to hear it.

The pieces fell together in my in-laws kitchen the other day. It was the last straw - I was so angry at people wanting to help by giving me unsolicited random advice. People wanting to help heal and fix poor broken (heart problem ridden) Angie.

When in reality it's just a way to attempt to fix themselves, so they project their shit on to me.

I realised at that moment that there's no point being angry. People are not mind readers. Their attempt to help or console all come from a good place of caring, concern and love. We are just as responsible for how we respond, as they are for what they say.

The problem in my situation has been the lack of response I have been giving these seemingly helpful people. It's because I didn't want to make them feel uncomfortable, so I'd nod through and listen to all their hair-brained, irrelevant, out of context quick fixes and suggestions for helping me with my heart problem - whatever that is - because they don't even quite know.

I'm responsible for setting my boundaries and maintaining them. So here goes, next time someone gives unsolicited advice or assistance, this will be my response: I'm fine, thank you for your concern and advice. At this stage I am happy and healthy and have my situation under control and under the watchful eye of relevant health care professionals.

Fuck you very much. Thanks 2014, you've had some highs and some really low lows. On to bigger and better things in 2015.

Wishing everyone a happy new year full of love, peace and most importantly, good health.

The Overwhelming Lightness of Honesty

...or the overwhelming lightness of living your values.

I've been shitty lately. I couldn't put my finger on it until I was in my psychiatrist's office last month. There were a couple of catalysts but the main one that stands out in my mind is the Mexican standoff I had with a stranger in a public shopping centre carpark, the day before I saw my shrink. That was the peak of it.

Firstly, I had gone against my better judgement (and experience) by going to that carpark in the first place. In this suburb I usually park in the (un-metered) back streets about a ten minute walk away. The benefit of this is threefold: light exercise, chance to clear my mind before my appointment and no time pressure for the free parking. In this instance I thought I might try the shopping centre carpark instead, in case I wanted to also do grocery shopping. As always in the carpark, there was mass confusion and people doing stupid and illegal things like driving in the wrong lane and blocking off traffic. Long story short: a lady and I were going for the same carpark. If another carpark hadn’t become available that moment so we could each have one, I’m not sure what would have happened.

For many of you there comes a point in your life where for whatever reason, you may just snap it. You’ve kept doing the same thing over and over again and suddenly you realise, it’s just not working…and it probably never did, but you did it regardless.

I reached this point in that shitty, dark and dank basement carpark. The perfect setting for what felt like a lifetime of frustration that finally peaked and exploded. I realised in that moment that I had been putting up with a constant conflict in my value system, which created that angst, frustration and inconvenience, just so I can be nice and liked by other people. Liked by whom and for what? A stranger for letting her have the carpark, so she can be appreciative and like me, when she doesn’t even know me and will never even speak to me? WTF?!

My Mexican standoff breakthrough is, I’m sure, more (psychologically) complicated than I’m letting on. But it is not necessary to get into the detail or to analyse it to be able to portray the same takeaway message.

When a major life event occurs, like the cardiac arrest in my case, it hopefully makes you look at things and your life differently. The cliché of life being too short really rings true. Furthermore I believe it’s important, if not mandatory, to hold on to that life is too short concept to be able to make positive change in your own life. From one moment to the next, life can be over. So why spend your precious seconds, minutes, hours, days, months or years of your life being unhappy?

image courtesy of Your Core Light

I find that when I’m in the flow and living in harmony with myself and the world around me is when I’m honest with and true to my values. And that means knowing yourself and having the courage to say no to other things that conflict with those values and your happiness.

On The Road

It's been 7 months since my cardiac arrest. In August and September I took some time out to go on a holiday with my husband and daughter. We had our time at the beach, caught up with some dear friends and visited family who live overseas. Although tiring because it was such a big and long trip, it was really good for the heart and soul, and much needed.

I expected the reunion with my family to be much more emotionally charged, after nearly dying and all, but surprisingly it was quite mellow. In retrospect, it was probably for the best, as I don't want to dwell on the past and on such a traumatic event. Plus, there was nothing significant that hadn't been said already.

My husband had to leave ahead of me and my daughter to return to work, so it meant that us girls traveled back on our own. I was nervous about this to say the least: four flights, two of which were long-haul. But whenever the nervous thoughts entered my mind I would avoid them, instead opting to deal with the matter when it was at hand. My psychiatrist once told me I have a choice about when to think about things (this was specifically about traumatic thoughts, but I find applies to everything in life). Over thinking builds things up in my mind to the point where they are overwhelming and the cause of a great deal of anxiety and stress.  So I chose to plan (by including plenty of rest stops between flights, plus assistance where possible), and then stop thinking about it. I found this strategy worked really well for me. The trip back was enjoyable, relaxed and smooth with no hiccups.

All this, coupled with the physical distance from home, meant I had a really good break away from being "sick" and having to attend the endless procession of health appointments. When I met new people, they didn't know me as the chick who had a cardiac arrest, so it was a nice change. I felt I could reinvent myself. This made me realise that perhaps the worse culprit in seeing myself as the cardiac arrest patient, has been me.

A few weeks ago I got the green light from my cardiologist to drive again (cardiac arrest patients are not permitted to drive for a minimum of six months post a cardiac event). I've felt a big relief and a surge of new found freedom.

I've seen all these steps as significant building blocks in increasing my confidence. In that light, I feel I've reached a major milestone and look forward to the next stage in my life, whatever that will be.

Support Group at RNSH

A couple of weeks ago I attended a support group at Royal North Shore Hospital (RNSH). It was primarily aimed at an "older" audience, although there was another lady near my age, Kim, who also attended.

It became very clear that not only different age groups, but also people, have different concerns and at times approaches to life and living with an ICD. The best example of this was an older patient exclaiming that she used to do everything right and still had a cardiac arrest. So post arrest and having an ICD inserted, she no longer takes things too seriously and instead indulges in a nightcap or two...on most nights. I guess we all have different ways in dealing with things, and major events like a health scare can motivate us to live life quite differently to the way we did before.

Kim pointed out this difference and outlined that due to having two young kids to look after (plus heart health complications), her concern is prolonging her life as long as possible. So for her, there is no indulging in a nightcap or any alcohol in fact at all, ever.

Myself on the other hand, I like to employ the more balanced French/Italian/Greek way of living: having the odd small glass of wine with a meal. Good for the blood and circulation I say!

There were two speakers organised for the day:

1. The lady spoke about needing to understand everything that was (medically) happening and taking control over her own care.
2. The man spoke about having a complete life turnaround. He used to be a high-flying successful business owner who worked too many hours, didn't exercise and ate and drank really badly. Since his arrest he's sold his business, exercises 5 times a week and enjoys spending a lot more time with his family and friends.

It was interesting to see the differences between the two speakers. The floor was also opened up to the audience over a lead discussion, as well as a question and answer. Even thought quite a few experiences were revealed, it was reassuring to see the differences and also know that most people felt very similarly about having and living with an ICD. I think it's important to connect with others going through a similar experience so you don't feel as isolated or alone. Family and friends can be supportive but unless they've been through the same experience, they just don't get it.

As much as I need to understand what's logically going on with my heart and why what happened did happen, I'm afraid there aren't any certain answers for me. I've been working hard to let this go so I can go on with my life and live without fear. So I've taken the more high-level, focus on what I can control type of approach. Similarly to the gentleman speaker, what has changed drastically for me are my values and consequently the way I live my life. I've given myself no option but to prioritise regular exercise (3-5 times a week). I feel that's one major positive thing I can do not only towards my recovery, but more importantly for my long term health and vitality. Never before in my life have I had this clarity, motivation and dedication towards my exercise and well being. As the noise drops away, things seem a lot more simpler too and life more enjoyable.

I'm looking forward to attending the next ICD Support Group at RNSH later this year. It's supposed to be aimed at a younger target audience and have a large focus on exercise with an ICD. I bet I will have a lot to offer to the conversation!

Wake, Eat, Live, Sleep, Repeat.

I'm tired. As I'm writing this I'm sitting on a stool slumping over the bench and my iPad. I've been wanting to write for a while but haven't had the energy nor the time. My hubby went back to work a month ago and honestly...I'm still adjusting to doing everything on my own, including looking after our one year old daughter. He's a great help when he gets home from work, but I feel like stuff (chores, cleaning, organising) are never ending. I've been overwhelmed at times. I'm getting irritated. I go to bed and fall asleep immediately from exhaustion.

I understand that all parents are tired, but I sense that my tiredness is on another heart-related level. I think I've been neglecting the fact that my capacity is not the same as someone else's (with no health issues).

What's been compounding that is that after a recent reassessment, I've realised my personal values were in the wrong order. I have been putting family and friends first. Noble, sure, maybe? But the reality is that if I don't look after myself then I won't have much to offer my family or friends or anyone else for that matter. So I put health first. This has changed my life and given me purpose, consistency and routine. Not bad things during a (emotionally and physically) tumultuous time.

Wake up, brekkie, gym/or walk, grocery shopping, lunch, cook, eat, sleep. Add a dose of housework and lots of playing with Zoe in between all that stuff. Repeat.

Some days are a struggle to do any of that apart from eat and sleep. I try and listen to my body (it's hard, my mind is quite overpowering and pushes me to over commit and overextend myself) but some things, like keeping my daughter alive and happy, must be done. 

I've had to slow way down. I feel like I'm at 50% capacity i.e. doing half the amount of stuff I did before and have had to make changes to my life accordingly. I've tried to be creative in my approach because I'm coming to terms with the fact that I can't be everything to everyone. That concept is so unrealistic and unattainable, causes constant unnecessary angst and stress...but that's another topic.

Here are some things that I've been doing.

Minimised social commitments. Particularly during the week. My motto is now low key and quality over quantity. Major life events make people realise things: if any of my "friends" didn't come see me post cardiac arrest either in the hospital or later at home, then I won't be going out of my way to see them...or probably ever talk to them again either. So that also minimises the amount of people "in rotation" in our social calendar.

Prioritising. I can't do everything. I can barely do half the stuff I did. Realistically some things slip, so I find it easier to let things slide once I've prioritised what's important and what's less important. And then not feeling guilty about the things that do slip!

Organised a house cleaner. They can be pricey here in Australia, so I've booked one in for once a fortnight only. I'll be paying her out of my personal budget. It means a few less lunches out but the way I've been living lately, that's not an issue as I'm primarily home bound by choice.

Online shopping. They deliver the groceries to my house and place them on my kitchen bench. Convenient and considering I'm still not allowed to drive, necessary. Any bits and bobs that I need (fresh fruit, veggies and meat) I pick up after the gym each day from my local grocer/butcher.

More online shopping. Yep, don't even want to go to a shopping center to shop for fashion or cosmetics or presents. I order that shit online and it gets delivered to my door.

Ask for help. I delegate tasks to Chris, particularly lifting heavy stuff like piles of washing. I also now take up my friends' offers to help wash the dishes when they come over for a meal. And my new cleaner? I've asked her for (paid) help because I can't keep up with the housework.

Image borrowed from www.nsf.gov.

Automate and mechanise. I'm truly embracing industrialisation by using machines like there's no tomorrow. Some days the dishwasher does two loads; I put most things in there now! Hanging washing? I don't think so. I'm pulling that stuff from the washing machine and putting it straight into the dryer. I'm cutting out steps where I can. Sure our electricity bill is slightly higher but it's worth my sanity and energy.

Batch food preparation. If I'm making something that can be frozen, I will make extra to freeze some portions. That way if I don't feel like cooking one day, I can defrost and have something quick and easy on hand.

Saying "NO". Hard for me to do when I've spent my life trying to make others and myself happy. But no choice. Used in the correct way, "NO" can be very powerful and liberating. It helps set limitations, boundaries and expectations.

Sleep. My average generally is eight hours a night. Some nights I've slept nine or 10 hours and still don't feel like it's enough. If I don't get enough sleep I can't function and find that my energy levels are greatly affected. Most nights it's hard to drop stuff and force myself to go to sleep, but this is where the prioritising comes in handy.

I'm getting there - to whatever my new normal is meant to be. I feel like I'm getting organised but my energy levels are still not where I want them to be. I'm still focusing on my rehabilitation and finding a new groove in my life. It will take time and I'm understanding now, that's OK.

Physical Afflictions

End of June marks three months since the cardiac arrest.

Apart from the mental which I've started to delve into, there is a series of physical afflictions I've been dealing with in relation to the arrest. I have only felt comfortable sharing these now and I do so with some hesitation, but feel that I need to in order to continue on the path of healing. 

I saw my chiropractor Luke on Saturday and finally had a long overdue adjustment. Based on Luke's advice, I couldn't get my left side adjusted earlier than eight weeks after the ICD insertion, but didn't feel comfortable, mentally or physically ready to get any adjustments done until now. I've been feeling stiff and sore in different locations in my body, particularly after laying in bed and sitting around for three weeks after getting the ICD put in (which was approximately one week after the arrest). The cardiac rehabilitation program with the physiotherapist has helped, but new injuries/issues arose (e.g. hips out of whack, so kept getting a sore knee when training). I really needed an adjustment and now feel so much better for it! There were a lot of blockages, particularly (and not surprisingly!) on my left side and top half of my body.

The ICD was inserted in the left sub mammary pocket. It's usually inserted underneath the left collarbone and noticeably protrudes under the skin, but since I have a zipper scar running down the middle of my chest; and my left breast plate protrudes more than the right (both from my open heart surgery in 1988), I wanted to avoid bringing even more attention to my chest. 

For the first six weeks after the ICD insertion, I wasn't allowed to lift my left arm above shoulder height. Even if I wanted to I couldn't, because there was a lot of soreness from the operation and felt the strange sensation of the ICD leads pulling with any sudden or lifting movement. They needed time to fuse with the tissue and this takes about six weeks.

Apart from the internal stuff, I have two external scars from the surgical incisions: one close to my left collarbone where the leads were inserted; and one underneath my left breast where the ICD was inserted. Also, I have a significant scar on the left side of my neck (looks like a massive pimple) where the IV was inserted while I was in intensive care.

The whole underneath of my left breast was severely bruised from the operation and because of this and the incision underneath it, I couldn't wear a bra for four weeks.

My chest was constantly sore from the CPR, which had caused me to have fractured ribs. These can take at least six weeks to heal. Every time I breathed in I would experience sharp pains. So I got used to a shallow, half breathing type of constant state to minimise the pain.

I couldn't sleep on my front (it's my preferred go-to-sleep position) or left side, so it was impossible to get comfortable and often to fall asleep.

I had bruising and track marks like a junkie, running up and down my arms from the IVs in hospital and daily blood tests I had for two weeks while I was admitted.

I had (and still have, but somewhat slightly calmer now) pimples on mainly my neck, but also my face, back and backside from the stress from the whole event. I feel like I'm going through puberty...again. It wasn't fun the first time and it's not fun a subsequent one.

Most importantly, from being bed-ridden for a month, apart from the stiffness, I became totally unfit and struggled to even go down the twelve stairs in our building to get to the ground level. Not to mention the constant tiredness and low energy levels.

On Friday I graduated from the Cardiac Rehabilitation/Heart Failure Program at St George Hospital. I got quite emotional and upon reflection, realised what a massive milestone it is for me, particularly taking all the physical afflictions listed above into consideration. It feels like a massive achievement because I've come so far from being a fragile post operative and cardiac arrest patient, to being well on my way to feeling strong, fit and energetic again.

The visit to Luke and a couple of things he said got me thinking a lot about all these physical afflictions and how I feel about the ICD. I was hugging Chris the other night and could feel it there  between us. I feel it every night I lie in bed on my left side to go to sleep. It still feels so foreign and strange, a part that doesn't belong to me but yet is connected and vital. It's such a strange duality to experience and with time, one that I need to accept as being part of me.

I've come a long way but now realise that it's just the beginning. There's still a lot of work to do and these things can't be rushed, particularly the mental aspects. I'm just taking it one day and one milestone at a time; and practicing my deep breathing.

Making Time for Yourself

After letting the dust settle, I realised my big emotional turnaround began after our recent trip to Perth. It was a chance to get away; spend time with my dear longtime friend Jenny; stop thinking about all the heart stuff and be a family again. In those moments though, I mostly craved to connect with myself. Most prominently, I felt like I was doing a half-assed job of everything: being me, being a partner, being a mother, being a friend; being all the roles that make up the rich spectrum of my life.

I know that I can only be my best and offer my best, when I've connected with myself to begin with. Then I can have more to offer to everyone. The problem was that I felt I needed permission to do this. I felt guilty for being what I perceived to be selfish; for needing time on my own.

The longing to spend time on my own came to a boiling point. I realised I needed to take action when I began getting annoyed not only at myself, but at Chris and Zoe for just being themselves, for wanting me to be around and for engaging with me. I felt stretched really thin, that I had nothing to offer them. I started to resent them. It felt like I was steadily moving in a downwards spiral through a dark abyss with heavy weights on my shoulders, pushing me even further down.

I got really upset feeling this way towards the two most important people in my life; and knew that I had to do something about it. So I gave myself permission to be me, to give myself space to spend time on my own and do things I enjoy. I gave myself permission to have fun, relax, explore and find myself again.

I started with doing something small every day. Below is a list of the things I've done over the past couple of weeks that have contributed to making me feel whole again.

• dinner and movie date with myself
• hot stone massage (never had one before, so it also counted as a new experience)
• take shoes off and walk on the beach, wet my feet in the ocean, sit on the sand and play with it
• take a 2-3 hour afternoon nap
• meet my girlfriend for a 1-1 (no kids, no partners) coffee and gossip
• walk through grass barefoot
• date night with Chris (dessert and a movie) to be a couple again
• family Sunday drive along the coast, lunch and drink with dear friends
• bake with love: birthday cake for Zoe and banana bread for the physiotherapists at my rehab program
• nurtured, watered and caressed my potplants, played with the dirt
• went for a walk through the city to see the VIVID Festival with my girlfriend
• personal maintenance (waxing, shaving, exfoliating, moisturing, file and paint nails, new facial cleansing regime) 
• went out for walks around the neighborhood with just Zoe, so we can reconnect and for me to build my confidence up and look after her on my own again

Both my holistic therapist and my physiotherapist had advised me a while back to take time out to do simple things I enjoy....and now I know why: life goes on, so I may as well enjoy it! This is part of my healing process.