A Ray of Sunshine

There are some people in the world who just make life difficult. You know the people I’m talking about…the ones you dread coming into contact with. But then, on the other side of the spectrum, there are those people who simply make life better just by being around. The ones who get little acknowledgement but do a great deal of wonders for the world.

This summer, the janitor at the building I worked in was one of those people. Kind, thoughtful, and always ready to cheer you up. He hardly gets any recognition for his work, but he is always ready to give of himself a little more.

People like this man are like rays of sunshine leaking light into the darkness. When he met me, he noticed my crutches and asked what happened. I told him, and he gave me a big smile and encouragement that things will get better. He said, “don’t you worry. You’ll be walking and running again someday.” Now, there are the people who say things like that to weasel their way out of an awkward situation where they don’t know what to say. But the way that he said it was different. It was filled with heart, filled with hope.

The next week, he gave me a new nickname…Kryptonite. It took me a minute to realize the play on words that was going on, but when it clicked, I actually liked it. It took the usual “crip” or “crippled” name and added a fun spin. I appreciated having that name rather than being called “the girl on crutches.”

I soon learned why this man’s words seemed so genuine, so heartfelt. He told me a bit about his life, explaining that he was never supposed to walk. Born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck, he endured a great number of medical problems in his early life. To add to that, his mother passed away shortly after giving birth. You would never know about this man’s struggles by simply looking at him. He works with a smile, does his job well, and always cheers people up.

We need more people like this in the world. People who aren’t afraid to put their needs aside for the sake of another person. People who see the joy in life rather than dwelling on the things we can’t change. We need more rays of sunshine in this dark and depressing life.

Take some time to be kind to someone today. A smile, a kind word of encouragement, or a sincere compliment can go a long way. You never know who needs that extra burst of sunshine.

{Photo Cred: She Wears Many Hats}

The

Have a Good Day

While in Harlem this past week, we had to go to the subway station and exchange some tickets. It was a busy afternoon and at first the woman at the counter seemed inconvenienced by everyone’s needs. We finally got everything figured out and went to leave the counter, but not before my dad said to the woman, “have a good day!”

The woman behind the counter seemed so touched by my dad’s typical expression of well-wishes. Apparently she doesn’t hear that much, so she said, “you know, I really appreciate that. I really do. Thank you so much.” She sounded genuine in her gratitude toward my dad for those simple 4 words…have a good day.

This exchange between my dad and the woman behind the counter made me stop and think about my words and how they have the power to lift people up when they may need an extra bit of love. How often do I stop to give a word of encouragement or even wish someone a good day? Probably not enough.

Our words are filled with power. They are what we use to communicate our wants, needs, desires. They can build people up, or they can tear people down. It’s all a matter of the way we choose to express ourselves. It’s easy to spout off in anger when something makes you mad, but how much more productive is it to turn that anger into a word of encouragement, changing someone’s day? It may be harder to turn around and speak positive words, but you never know when someone may really need to hear them. It’s a choice we all get to make.

My goal for this week is to remember to speak kind words to those around me. I am aiming to be more thoughtful and present in my conversations, remembering to thank those who help me, encourage those who need a boost, and tell those around me that I wish them a good day.

So, to everyone out there, thanks for reading, and…have a great day 🙂

Fine Line

In life, there are many “fine lines.” For example, there’s a fine line between being honest and being rude, or being neat and being obsessive. Here’s a fine line that I ponder frequently…the line between toughness and abuse.

I don’t want to place blame or anything here, I just want to write some of my thoughts. There have been some instances in my life, particularly in healthcare settings, where I believe this fine line was crossed. People said they were just trying to help, but they did so with roughness and hurtful actions.

In the past 8 years I have gone through many various treatments and I’ve seen dozens of doctors for my RSD/CRPS. Some were very helpful, but others came with the connotation that having this disorder was my fault and that I needed a dose of “tough love” so I could just “get over it.” I had plenty of therapy sessions where I wailed and screamed in pain, but was forced to continue, even to the point of passing out. I’ve had physical therapists who smiled at my pain, telling me how it was a good thing. And I’ve had people who tried to tell me it was all in my head, blaming me for everything.

I understand that there are situations where you need a good dose of tough love. I know that this is a challenging disorder and sometimes many times there will be tears and groans. I am not ignorant to the fact that you often need to go through hell to reach remission. But there is one thing I do not understand, and it’s the concept of blaming someone for their illness and trying to scare them into “magically getting better.”

One time, I was in a pool therapy session when I was kicked in my bad leg by another girl. I started to cry, and the therapist who was leading the group told me that I needed to cut it out. Crying was not acceptable in the pool. She said that it was good desensitization for me, and I needed to get my act together. I’m sorry, but since when are people not allowed to show emotion when they are in great pain? And to be punished for it? I later received a lecture about how it was unacceptable for me to cry, and I was given a low score (on sheets that kept track of progress) for my behavior that day. I’d like to see her give birth unmedicated without shedding a tear. After all, they say CRPS is rated higher than childbirth…

There was another day when I was working on standing up. I was having a hard time staying stable and admittedly I did use my arms to keep me from falling. I held onto the wall for support and tried to stand correctly. My PT got angry with me and tied my hands behind my back. I felt a rush of anger and anxiety and gave the biggest tug of my life on the rope that was holding my hands together. In that moment I felt vulnerable and unsafe because I had no choice in the matter. And, of course, tying my hands back did nothing to help me progress in therapy.

A big concern that has stayed with me is the way in which words have been used against me. I go to therapy hoping for help, yet I am belittled and torn down verbally. Couldn’t master the art of standing? I was called a brat. Had trouble walking in the hallway? Little s***head. I was told that I wouldn’t make a good OT, and that I was lazy. Not hard-working enough. My body was even criticized. All by healthcare professionals who should at least have one ounce of compassion and control over their words. I don’t see how throwing expletives at a young girl while she is writhing in pain and attempting to work on therapy does any good. I just don’t.

So where is the line? Would being called out for crying be considered simply “being tough?” Should people with RSD/CRPS be blamed for their situation? Is it appropriate to degrade patients? Am I just too sensitive? These are questions I think about, especially as I make plans for the future. I’m not sure I’m willing to put myself in another situation where these types of things will happen, which is part of the reason I’m hesitant about having new therapists and trying new treatments.

I do know that when I am an Occupational Therapist (because you’d better know I’m about to prove them wrong), I will be treating people as humans and placing no blame. I will use kind words toward everyone, even when they frustrate me. Even when I have to push my patients to overcome their challenges, I will do so with encouragement, not negativity. I believe people are worth more than being objects of blame and abuse.

There are lots of fine lines in the world, but I hope that one day abuse in medical facilities (and everywhere else) will be completely nonexistent. Until then, I’ll do the best I can to be the change and speak life to others.