Coping with ADD

Earlier this year I was tested for and diagnosed with ADD/ADHD.  This is probably more common then

we realize.  When I was a kid 50+ years ago there was no knowledge of this disorder, and when it was 

finally identified, it was also described as a problem with boys.  If girls behaved the same way they were

considered poorly behaved, parents didn't discipline them enough etc. anything but ADHD. Remember 

the H referring to hyperactivity can also refer to hyperactivity of the mind IE flitting from one thought to another, and daydreaming too.  For me daydreaming was an escape from an unhappy existence.  My

parents were OK, but my teachers were nuns and they were rigid, controlling, stern and sometimes

down right mean. But in fairness to them, they didn't know that these problems could be physiological

rather than just behavioral.  They also had performance expectations for behavior and academics. They
were right to demand some order, but they were unfair in the distribution of penalties.  For some reason
unknown to me boys were allowed a lot of leeway when it came to behavior.  Much more was expected
of girls and punishments were harsher and readily handed out to girls who dared to be restless, inattentive
or any number of behaviors found to be unacceptable (such as asking questions, or daydreaming). Physical
punishment such as hitting were not common, but did happen and most often to girls though they were
usually better behaved than the boys.  I think the problem was rooted in expectations.  Girls were simply
expected to behave better and boys, well "boys will be boys" was the thinking of that period.

In any case I exhibited all the usual behaviors usually  associated with ADD: not paying attention, interrupting, talking when I shouldn't and always in the dark about assignments, test instructions etc. I         did better with written or printed instructions so I could recheck etc.  To my mother's credit she wasn't a harsh disciplinarian and believed me if I told her I tried.  There were times, though when I gave up in despair, crying and insisting I just couldn't do it. I didn't know  what the teacher wanted or how to do it.  It was frightening at times.

Today I see teachers like the ones who were interviewed  after the tornadoes in the Midwest and the 

teachers from the Sandy Hook shootings and I think they are so special.  I wonder why I didn't have

nice teachers, ones that cared.  In high school I did have at least one teacher in each of  my 4 years of high school  that I was able to connect with and some that seemed to understand me.  I found some of the male teachers more tolerant and accepting of me.  

Many years later I went to nursing school as a young, newly divorced mother with a small daughter. I 

somehow managed to graduate with honors, but it took all my energy, and I think my daughter missed so      much of my time. Her father pretty much ignored her, but my mother adored her and made up for some

of the sadness she incurred from  her divorced parents, her busy mom and her uninvolved father. My father
was also very fond of her and to some extent she could do no wrong, but he was also quick to anger given
even small provacations.  But she learned how to manage him early on.

Recently I've been reading a magazine about ADD//ADHD.  My therapist lent it to me, and it is  anamazing
magazine.  It's articles have hit a sensitive part of my brain.  It has made me wonder how I ever managed
to get through school, and 34 years of hospital work (as an RN).  From mixing up appointment dates, to
hiding things on myself it seems that I'm always stressed out whenever I'm doing something important.  It is
sad because no one knew about learning disabilities and ADD when I was a little girl.  The nuns dealt with
my indiosyncracies rather harshly.  I have no good memories of elementary school.  By high school I had
managed to work out some strategies to help myself.  I was not a happy kid most of the time.  During the
summer when I could get lost in reading library books I was happier.

Remembering my mother

Today I found some of my mother's belongings (she died in 2010). One item sort of touched me. It was a spiral bound notebook that I had given her with a sign on the front in large print saying "If you come to visit me and I'm sleeping, please wake me up. I can sleep anytime, but can't visit any time. If you can't bear to wake me then at least leave me a short note so I know you've been here." Sadly the visitors were mostly too shy to leave a note - only a few actually left one. I now have that notebook and finding it was like finding a small part of my mother. I did a lot for my mom, was truly her caretaker and significant person for many years and now she is gone. No one lives forever I know, and a part of me is glad that she is no longer suffering, but I truly wish her last years had been a little better. She was lonely, felt isolated and because of her poor hearing didn't have much conversation. But she refused to use a hearing aid so that part was her choice. That made it hard for her and our family to converse and feel a connection. When communication is absent or very difficult it usually gets even worse with time. And in my mother's case it did. But there were some good times. One of my best memories is the last birthday she had about 2 months before her death. I have written about that day in one of my journals and shared the story with some cousins. Perhaps I will write it here. It will lift the spirits of anyone who reads it.

Random Thoughts

In my writing group today we discussed the timely  topic of World Peace day, which is today or actually yesterday since it is now after midnight.  It was also my granddaughter's birthday and she is now 12 which has been dubbed the tweens.  Her name is Lily and I love her very much and miss her because she lives 1500 miles from me.   I'm hoping to visit them at Christmas, but if I do go I'm not allowed to tell the kids I'm coming (my daughter's rule).  She wants them to be surprised. She doesn't want them to nag her for 4 weeks about when  gramma is
coming - over and over.  So I will try to comply, but some-times I slip.  My other 2 grandkids also will be very happy to see me.  They love having grandparents. They are also close to Lily's age 12 and 13 (soon to be 14).  They were adopted so of course there ages are not what one would have with biological grandchildren.  I love them of course.  I don't get to FL often.  It's just a lot of planning either a
very long drive, or a flight and all the planning that takes.  I like to fly, the details
associated with that are tedious.  But it will be good to see them all.

Memories of Sept. 11

Like most people I talk to about Sept.11, 2000, I remember exactly where I was, but remembering what I thought and felt is harder to recall and somewhat influenced by things I hear and see today.

I was at work as were many Americans that day.I worked on the maternity unit of my local hospital.  It was an extremely busy day with about 8 labor patients and every postpartum bed filled (that would be 14) and 3 beds in triage.  All patient rooms had  working TV's and phones in their rooms and there were 2 tv's in Triage.  One tv was on in an empty labor room right near the nurses station.  I walked by the empty room except it wasn't empty.  There was a small group of nurses and a supervisor watching the tv.  I walked in to see what was so interesting.  I was just in time to see the second tower hit. We all watched in stunned silence.  I admit to worrying if my patients were ok without me as I stared at the small screen mesmerized by the happenings.

Then someone said something like "it has to be that guy, terrorist leader what's his name?"  I stuttered for a minute like someone on a game show and then said "Osama bin Laden" finishing her sentence. Everyone said yes
in soft low voices. I left the group to check on my patients and suggested to them that they might want to turn the tv on and see what was happening.

I called my mother; she was already watching the situation unfold. I asked her to call my daughter in FL and tell her to turn her tv on because  she doesn't watch it during the daytime. But this time she did turn it on and was as surprised as the rest of us. I think I called my mother before the towers started to collapse. We were on the phone only a few minutes then I had
to get back to work and my patients. 

For some reason I felt the need to tell people what was happening.  I called several  people and one person who was important to me whose job kept him on the road nearly 5 days a week.  He did have a cell phone so I was able to reach him.  He was so upset he had to pull over and listen for a while before continuing. It seems strange to me now, but I also called both of my sisters - one in SC and one about an hour away from me.  If I remember correctly they were both already aware of what was happening.  Though I didn't have any relatives in New York, I felt as though I was losing family members when the people started jumping and then again when I saw the towers crumble like toy blocks.  The knowledge that people were still inside -- rescuers and employees - left me with an indescribable feeling - heartbreak, emptiness, a sense of not believing what I was seeing, and a cold chill of reality.  It was happening.  It was real, and it was tragic.  Much later I learned that there were fewer people in the towers than usually at that time of day which probably saved thousands. I do not remember what the reason was for that.

It is difficult to remember accurately all the feelings I experienced.  Some were fear, dread, overwhelming sadness and the worst, I think, was helplessness.  The idea that with all the security, tecnology, intelligence agencies, undercover spies, and so much more we were not able to prevent this or cope with it effectively.  I had heard my Mom talk about WW2 and the attack on Pearl Harbor.  I knew now how Americans felt the day that Perarl Harbor was attacked.  And like Pearl Harbor and the day President Kennedy was killed people will continue to remember where they were and what they were doing on Sept. 11, 2001. We were entering a new era of fear, security precautions, anger, anxiety and probably more.  I do notice that most of the talk and memories center around the towers, and I think that's because we have such a visual connection.  We didn't see Flight 93 crash in PA, or the plane that crashed into the Pentagon  so we don't seem to give them the same attention.  I think it's because we don't have that video of them.  It is sad and unfair, but life is like that sometimes. However when we think of that day 10 years ago we think of all of them and we grieve for all of them. I always think of the ones left to grieve and wonder how they are doing.  It is nice that many of the network news programs bring stories about them to their viewers.  I hope that practice continues for at least the next 10 years.