Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Toddler gym equipment?
I came across a blog entry in the RW Daily about toddler treadmills. Yes, treadmills for those little tykes to combat childhood obesity. These treadmills first came out in 2006, made by the British company, Gymkids. This company also makes toddler and junior bikes, rowers, steppers, riders, etc. for kids ages 3-11. According to this Canadian article, the bikes even have read outs of time, distance travelled, and amount of energy expended! What young child needs to know that? Better yet, how is this going to help children develop good exercising habits?
This is when I think people need to be reminded of playgrounds, parks, fields to run in, all those sorts of things for young children, not exercise equipment. Children need to be children, not mini adults.
Monday, September 29, 2008
What's your reality?
This week is super busy, trying to get everything done before my trip. Since today was the only day I had off, I pretty much crammed a lot of errands. After my psych appt., my dermatology appt., my glove appt., and running around to various stores, I'm extremely exhausted. It didn't help that my eating and fluid intake were not so hot today either. I still have more to do, but I'm leaving that for tomorrow and Wednesday. Blogging this week may be a little light, but I still want to write a few posts.
My first appt. was with C. We talked a lot about my upcoming trip and my stress and anxiety of seeing my parents, as well as other catch-up stuff in my life. Something she said really sticks out.
"Remember, what your parents say do not have to become your reality."
She said she was saying this, so I had a different voice to hear, to put something else in my head. It was important that I heard that, because I think I do indeed hear my parents' voices a lot. And that tends to drown out my own voice, even when I don't exactly know what that is.
It reminded me of the different voices we hear--whether it is the ED voice, the voice of our parents, our friends, our relatives, a professor, etc. Sometimes, these voices can be overpowering, "controlling," and negative. In our vulnerability, we lose our own power, follow those voices, and try to make that our reality. And in the end, suffer because of it.
This is not to say that sometimes these voices are positive, encouraging, and supportive. Hopefully, we begin listening to that and finding our reality that way.
My first appt. was with C. We talked a lot about my upcoming trip and my stress and anxiety of seeing my parents, as well as other catch-up stuff in my life. Something she said really sticks out.
"Remember, what your parents say do not have to become your reality."
She said she was saying this, so I had a different voice to hear, to put something else in my head. It was important that I heard that, because I think I do indeed hear my parents' voices a lot. And that tends to drown out my own voice, even when I don't exactly know what that is.
It reminded me of the different voices we hear--whether it is the ED voice, the voice of our parents, our friends, our relatives, a professor, etc. Sometimes, these voices can be overpowering, "controlling," and negative. In our vulnerability, we lose our own power, follow those voices, and try to make that our reality. And in the end, suffer because of it.
This is not to say that sometimes these voices are positive, encouraging, and supportive. Hopefully, we begin listening to that and finding our reality that way.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Americaversary-Reflecting on adoption
I've been thinking about this post for a week and what to write without boring everyone with endless details of my early life. But then again, maybe you'd be interested? I have tendency to ramble on in posts, so conciseness isn't my forte unless it has to be. I hope you don't mind and read anyway.
America + versary = Americaversary
America + versary = Americaversary
image: flags image: worldatlas
It's a word my parents made up to celebrate the day I became theirs. Today, marks 24 years I've lived in this country! Although sometimes I feel like this day is more important to my parents than to me, it does allow me to reflect on my adoption and how I've dealt with it.
Every year, my parents would get me a small gift, or we would celebrate with a dinner at a nice Asian restaurant. Every year, my father has also sent me flowers. Most of the time, they were red, white, and blue carnations, while at other times, they were roses. Although I loved receiving the flowers, sometimes I felt a little awkward, especially if it was during school. People would come up and ask me why I was receiving flowers, and I had to explain my whole situation. Over the years, however, it really became a tradition which I enjoyed and looked forward to.
Every year, my parents would get me a small gift, or we would celebrate with a dinner at a nice Asian restaurant. Every year, my father has also sent me flowers. Most of the time, they were red, white, and blue carnations, while at other times, they were roses. Although I loved receiving the flowers, sometimes I felt a little awkward, especially if it was during school. People would come up and ask me why I was receiving flowers, and I had to explain my whole situation. Over the years, however, it really became a tradition which I enjoyed and looked forward to.
**********
People choose to adopt for different reasons. For some, it is because they are unable to conceive or may have a health condition, preventing them from having their own children. For others, it’s about giving a child a much needed home. For my parents, it was a bit of both. There was the factor that both had a history of depression which sparked fear that their genes might be passed on to any offspring. Then, there was the fact that my mom really wasn’t into babies. She didn’t want to deal with the diapers, sleepless nights, wailing, etc. She much preferred someone who was already “house trained.” My father preferred something that wasn’t a crier. He just couldn’t handle that. Plus, they figured they would have a better shot at adopting an older child versus an infant which had a list a mile long.
The other interesting thing was that both were interested in adopting overseas. Part of this was the likelihood that the adoption would be closed. Therefore, there was less chance that something catastrophic would happen like the birth mother demanding the child back (remember Baby Jessica). They decided on Korea for a few reasons. One was my mother had always wanted a Korean child. My grandfather (her father) who was in the Korean war used to tell her and her sister stories of a little girl he befriended whom he used to give candy bars to. My mom used to secretly wish that he would bring back a Korean child or trade her sister for one. My father just liked cute little Asian kids. Plus, he felt like they were very smart.
So they started their long, arduous journey through the adoption process. This was in the early 1980s, so adoption rates in Korea were very high. Within the last decade, Korean adoptions have dropped dramatically due to Korea's stricter policies and opening up their adoption to more populations, like single mothers, within the country. I don't know all the details, but the main agency was Minnesota's Children's Home Society. There, a social worker named T.B. discovered me at a Korean orphanage. My parents were thrilled to possibly have a daughter soon. During one of the calls with T.B., my dad asked if I was pretty. T.B. apparently said yes, but more than that, "I was a neat kid." More phone calls and photos were exchanged, and two days before September 28, 1984, my parents were notified to come to JFK airport to meet their new daughter, a 4 1/2 year old girl with short, straight, dark brown hair,weighing in at only 35 pounds, and had a physical congenital deformity of her hand. (They already knew about this but didn't care)
After 20+ hours of plane travel, I arrived at JFK airport. There were several children adopted that day, and each family was taken into a private room to meet their child. My parents tell me that I wore a pink and white checkered dress, socks with the number 45, and sneakers. I had a big wad of gum in my mouth (I think this is why I have an affinity for gum), a smooshed up cookie in one hand, and a Korean airline pin in the other. Apparently, I was very calm and silent. I'm sure I was pretty confused at what was going on and seeing all these strange people. Unfortunately, there are no pictures of that day, because my mother forgot to put film in the camera.
this is me and my grandmother the first night
The other interesting thing was that both were interested in adopting overseas. Part of this was the likelihood that the adoption would be closed. Therefore, there was less chance that something catastrophic would happen like the birth mother demanding the child back (remember Baby Jessica). They decided on Korea for a few reasons. One was my mother had always wanted a Korean child. My grandfather (her father) who was in the Korean war used to tell her and her sister stories of a little girl he befriended whom he used to give candy bars to. My mom used to secretly wish that he would bring back a Korean child or trade her sister for one. My father just liked cute little Asian kids. Plus, he felt like they were very smart.
So they started their long, arduous journey through the adoption process. This was in the early 1980s, so adoption rates in Korea were very high. Within the last decade, Korean adoptions have dropped dramatically due to Korea's stricter policies and opening up their adoption to more populations, like single mothers, within the country. I don't know all the details, but the main agency was Minnesota's Children's Home Society. There, a social worker named T.B. discovered me at a Korean orphanage. My parents were thrilled to possibly have a daughter soon. During one of the calls with T.B., my dad asked if I was pretty. T.B. apparently said yes, but more than that, "I was a neat kid." More phone calls and photos were exchanged, and two days before September 28, 1984, my parents were notified to come to JFK airport to meet their new daughter, a 4 1/2 year old girl with short, straight, dark brown hair,weighing in at only 35 pounds, and had a physical congenital deformity of her hand. (They already knew about this but didn't care)
After 20+ hours of plane travel, I arrived at JFK airport. There were several children adopted that day, and each family was taken into a private room to meet their child. My parents tell me that I wore a pink and white checkered dress, socks with the number 45, and sneakers. I had a big wad of gum in my mouth (I think this is why I have an affinity for gum), a smooshed up cookie in one hand, and a Korean airline pin in the other. Apparently, I was very calm and silent. I'm sure I was pretty confused at what was going on and seeing all these strange people. Unfortunately, there are no pictures of that day, because my mother forgot to put film in the camera.
this is me and my grandmother the first night
After that, we went to my grandmother's house (my father's side) in NJ where I met a bunch of relatives and did not say a word. My parents recount that wherever someone left me, I just stayed there. The other thing is that I did not speak English and no one spoke Korean.
The first night was very tough. I cried for my "um ma" (mother in Koreans) my foster mother for several hours. I also put all my clothes back on that I had originally arrived in, giving the idea that I was to return to Korea. It took me a little while to understand things, but by the end of the night, I took off my shoes and placed them by my mother. Then, I fell asleep in her lap. Now, it's hard to say what I was thinking when I did this. We like to think that I had "accepted" that I was staying with them. Who knows for sure. I could have easily thought that that was the place where shoes go and put mine there. Or maybe I didn't like things being cluttered?
At any rate, I seemed to adjust better than expected. I met with my cousins the next morning, ate cereal for the first time (one morsel at a time), and spent time with relatives. A few days later, we returned home to our small, conservative town in VA where I grew up and stayed until I left for college.
Since I did not know English, my parents and I communicated through picture books. However, over the next few months, I learned English mostly by watching television--cartoons, "Sesame Street," etc. I spent a lot of time with my dad during this time since my mom went back to work soon after I was adopted. I took her leaving very hard and cried for the first few days until I realized she was coming back.
This new life wasn't easy, but things seemed to fall into place nicely. I met other children my age. I eventually enrolled in gymnastics after learning I really enjoyed being upside down. I excelled at school once it was learned that I was not mentally retarded (a school psychologist thought I was based on some test which was inappropriate for someone who did not know English). So far, I was living an All American life.
The first night was very tough. I cried for my "um ma" (mother in Koreans) my foster mother for several hours. I also put all my clothes back on that I had originally arrived in, giving the idea that I was to return to Korea. It took me a little while to understand things, but by the end of the night, I took off my shoes and placed them by my mother. Then, I fell asleep in her lap. Now, it's hard to say what I was thinking when I did this. We like to think that I had "accepted" that I was staying with them. Who knows for sure. I could have easily thought that that was the place where shoes go and put mine there. Or maybe I didn't like things being cluttered?
At any rate, I seemed to adjust better than expected. I met with my cousins the next morning, ate cereal for the first time (one morsel at a time), and spent time with relatives. A few days later, we returned home to our small, conservative town in VA where I grew up and stayed until I left for college.
Since I did not know English, my parents and I communicated through picture books. However, over the next few months, I learned English mostly by watching television--cartoons, "Sesame Street," etc. I spent a lot of time with my dad during this time since my mom went back to work soon after I was adopted. I took her leaving very hard and cried for the first few days until I realized she was coming back.
This new life wasn't easy, but things seemed to fall into place nicely. I met other children my age. I eventually enrolled in gymnastics after learning I really enjoyed being upside down. I excelled at school once it was learned that I was not mentally retarded (a school psychologist thought I was based on some test which was inappropriate for someone who did not know English). So far, I was living an All American life.
**********
For the most part, I think I understood the significance of my adoption from an early age. I remember in elementary school (maybe fifth grade) having to write an essay on our most special "gift." Many students chose material items, but I chose being adopted. I knew that by living in this country, I had many more opportunities than I would have had back in Korea. This was especially evident due to my hand and arm, macrodactylism, a birth defect in which my nerves and bones in my right arm and hand are larger than my left. It's a rare condition but more prevalent in Asian countries. Unfortunately, in Korea, there is still much stigma regarding those with disabilities. In the back of my mind, I've always wondered if this might have been one reason why my birth mother gave me up or abandoned me. It's not something I think about often, but the truth is, I'll never really know.
Record keeping in Korea is very poor, especially in orphanages. I'm sure by now my paperwork has gotten lost in the shuffle over the years. At one point when I had a real yearning to learn more of my past, I did attempt to contact my foster mother thorough a translated letter. Honestly, I don't know whether she ever received it. She is the only memory I have left of Korea.
At this point in time, I don't have that long, lost wondering about my birth parents that I used to. A number of years ago, I saw a psychic who gave me some interesting information. Whether it was true or not, it's hard to say. However, years later, when I saw this same psychic, she was right on the money about my life and circumstances. Now, I think the only thing I'd really want to know is my medical background. Although I certainly believe that some people are predisposed to eating disorders and other mental illnesses through genetics, at times, it's harder for me to see it in myself simply due to not having that ability. I can't point to my birth mother, birth father or uncle Joe, Aunt Sue to say there is a history of depression, eating disorder, or other mental illness. I can't point to personality traits I have and say my birth mother or birth father were like that. All I know is that I came with certain personality traits that had already developed--perfectionistic, serious, stoic, self-reliant, competitive, confident, hard-working. As a child, my parents would describe me a witty, athletic, cute, and loving.
When I look at pictures of myself from such an early age, it's hard to believe that is me. That girl looks so different. She is happy, care-free, confident, has fire and spunk, and is simply living in the moment. She isn't yet afraid of the future, or that she will fail or succeed, or give food morality. I think that is the part of me that I miss the most. Though I don't dwell on my past, I do wish I had a better memory of myself growing up. There are many stories my parents tell me which I have absolutely no recollection of. The memories I do have are in fragment, bits and pieces with some positive and some negative. It almost becomes like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle, seeing where everything fits.
Record keeping in Korea is very poor, especially in orphanages. I'm sure by now my paperwork has gotten lost in the shuffle over the years. At one point when I had a real yearning to learn more of my past, I did attempt to contact my foster mother thorough a translated letter. Honestly, I don't know whether she ever received it. She is the only memory I have left of Korea.
At this point in time, I don't have that long, lost wondering about my birth parents that I used to. A number of years ago, I saw a psychic who gave me some interesting information. Whether it was true or not, it's hard to say. However, years later, when I saw this same psychic, she was right on the money about my life and circumstances. Now, I think the only thing I'd really want to know is my medical background. Although I certainly believe that some people are predisposed to eating disorders and other mental illnesses through genetics, at times, it's harder for me to see it in myself simply due to not having that ability. I can't point to my birth mother, birth father or uncle Joe, Aunt Sue to say there is a history of depression, eating disorder, or other mental illness. I can't point to personality traits I have and say my birth mother or birth father were like that. All I know is that I came with certain personality traits that had already developed--perfectionistic, serious, stoic, self-reliant, competitive, confident, hard-working. As a child, my parents would describe me a witty, athletic, cute, and loving.
When I look at pictures of myself from such an early age, it's hard to believe that is me. That girl looks so different. She is happy, care-free, confident, has fire and spunk, and is simply living in the moment. She isn't yet afraid of the future, or that she will fail or succeed, or give food morality. I think that is the part of me that I miss the most. Though I don't dwell on my past, I do wish I had a better memory of myself growing up. There are many stories my parents tell me which I have absolutely no recollection of. The memories I do have are in fragment, bits and pieces with some positive and some negative. It almost becomes like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle, seeing where everything fits.
**********
I've kind of gone off tangent, and there is a lot more I could say (feel free to ask questions if you want), but I want to close with some other thoughts. I'm certainly thankful I was adopted as who knows what my life would be like now. I feel "lucky" to have been chosen out of so many other children. I still ask myself what made me standout, what made me "special." My father believes it was fate that brought us together. Perhaps so. Whatever the case, I would not be here now, in America, or even writing about this without the gift of adoption.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
"V" Formation
On my long run on Tuesday, I had what I call a "National Geographic" moment. There were probably about 50 or so birds on the ground, eating and doing other bird things. As I approached them running, they suddenly all took off in a whirlwind upward toward the sky. It was like a gigantic wind came across with all these black spots in the air. I just stood there in awe. I've seen this before many times, but it was beautiful to watch.
It reminded me that fall was here. Although the birds haven't started to migrate yet, they soon will, heading south for the winter. Birds fly in what is called the "V" formation, because of its efficiency. Essentially, it is less energy expenditure for flying long distances. You can read more about why birds fly in the V" formation here and here.
Years ago, I received an e-mail about the significance of the "V" formation in birds The e-mail said the author was Angeles Arrien, however, according to this website, it was written by a Robert McNeish. Whichever the case, it is a wonderful piece, and I wanted to share it with you.
This fall, when you see geese heading south for the winter flying along in "V" formation, you might consider what science has discovered as to why they fly that way.
FACT: As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an "uplift" for the bird immediately following. By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock has at least 71% greater flying range than if each bird flew on its own.
LESSON: People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going more quickly and easily because they are traveling on the thrust of one another.
FACT: When a goose flies out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to go it alone. It quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the birds in front of it.
LESSON: If we have as much common sense as a goose, we stay in formation with those headed where we want to go. We are willing to accept their help and give our help to others. It is harder to do something alone than together.
FACT: When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back into the formation, and another goose flies to the point position.
LESSON: It is sensible to take turns doing the hard and demanding tasks and sharing leadership. As with geese, people are interdependent of each others' skills, capabilities, and unique arrangements of gifts, talents, or resources.
FACT: The geese flying in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.
LESSON: We need to make sure our honking is encouraging. In groups where there is encouragement, the production is much greater. The power of encouragement (to stand by one's heart or core values and encourage the heart and core of others) is the quality of honking we seek. We need to make sure our honking is encouraging and not discouraging.
FACT: When a goose gets sick, wounded, or shot down, two other geese will drop out of formation with that goose and follow it down to lend help and protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it dies or is able to fly again. Then, they launch out on their own, or with another formation to catch up with their flock.
LESSON: If we have the sense of a goose, we will stand by our colleagues and each other in difficult times as well as in good!
I hope each of you have a community or support network to help you along the way in recovery. No one should ever have to fight his alone.
It reminded me that fall was here. Although the birds haven't started to migrate yet, they soon will, heading south for the winter. Birds fly in what is called the "V" formation, because of its efficiency. Essentially, it is less energy expenditure for flying long distances. You can read more about why birds fly in the V" formation here and here.
Years ago, I received an e-mail about the significance of the "V" formation in birds The e-mail said the author was Angeles Arrien, however, according to this website, it was written by a Robert McNeish. Whichever the case, it is a wonderful piece, and I wanted to share it with you.
This fall, when you see geese heading south for the winter flying along in "V" formation, you might consider what science has discovered as to why they fly that way.
FACT: As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an "uplift" for the bird immediately following. By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock has at least 71% greater flying range than if each bird flew on its own.
LESSON: People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going more quickly and easily because they are traveling on the thrust of one another.
FACT: When a goose flies out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to go it alone. It quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the birds in front of it.
LESSON: If we have as much common sense as a goose, we stay in formation with those headed where we want to go. We are willing to accept their help and give our help to others. It is harder to do something alone than together.
FACT: When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back into the formation, and another goose flies to the point position.
LESSON: It is sensible to take turns doing the hard and demanding tasks and sharing leadership. As with geese, people are interdependent of each others' skills, capabilities, and unique arrangements of gifts, talents, or resources.
FACT: The geese flying in formation honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.
LESSON: We need to make sure our honking is encouraging. In groups where there is encouragement, the production is much greater. The power of encouragement (to stand by one's heart or core values and encourage the heart and core of others) is the quality of honking we seek. We need to make sure our honking is encouraging and not discouraging.
FACT: When a goose gets sick, wounded, or shot down, two other geese will drop out of formation with that goose and follow it down to lend help and protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it dies or is able to fly again. Then, they launch out on their own, or with another formation to catch up with their flock.
LESSON: If we have the sense of a goose, we will stand by our colleagues and each other in difficult times as well as in good!
I hope each of you have a community or support network to help you along the way in recovery. No one should ever have to fight his alone.
Do I have "sucker" written on my forehead?
Within the past four days, I've had two encounters of people trying to either sell me something or leave pamphlets for me to read. Both of these encounters happened the old fashioned way with each individual coming to my door.
The first one were two Jehovah Witnesses. This is the not the only time they have come, more like the third time this year. You can read about another encounter here. They came in the middle of the day on Sunday when I was just about to take a nap, and of course the dogs alerted me that someone was there. Normally, I would not have opened the door at all and just pretended to not be home, but I thought it might have been my landlord. I opened the door and talked to them from afar, kind of nodded my head, even as they read some passage from the Bible, took their pamphlets, and then they left. They left, saying they hoped they could sit and chat with me sometime. Okay, that will never happen.
The second one happened yesterday. I had just gotten home and was about to feed my dogs, and then there was a knock on the door. It was a young kid--maybe seven or eight, selling some "spirit" card. It's essentially a card with a lot of different local restaurants, service places, and other businesses. Apparently, each time you shop there, you get a discount of some kind. This wouldn't have been so bad if I even remotely went to any of these restuarants or businesses. How could I say no to some sweet-looking young kid whose mom was in my driveway? I ended up giving up ten dollars I could have used elsewhere. As I was exchanging money with the kid, the mother yells out to me that she sees me all the time (I assumed out running). I guess this is one way to get to know the neighbors despite the fact that I've been here for oh six years.
It's encounters like these and this one too that happened this year which sometimes makes me feel like I have "sucker" written on my forehead. It's like there is a sign on my door that tells people to come by, because this person is nice, polite, and you can just get something from her. Any situation where people are "selling" their services at my door leave me feeling very uncomfortable, especially religious ones.
I have a hard time saying no anyway, but this doesn't make it feel any easier. Why is it I have no problem with some telemarketer who is trying to sell something over the phone that I am not interested? But face to face just seems so much harder, and if there is some cute kid, that just causes guilt. After all, who wants to reject a kid, even when it is like Girl Scout cookies which you don't even eat anyway. I've had that happen over the years as well with my landlord's daughter. There was a sense of "obligation" to buy from her.
I know I'm not the only one out there with this type of "problem" if you want to call it that. This is why they have classes for sales people to learn ways to entice you to buy something. I guess overall, it just reminds me of how I still have a problem with saying no and being assertive.
After all, isn't this just one other thing that can leave us feeling guilty, overworked, and stressed? So why do we do this to ourselves?
The first one were two Jehovah Witnesses. This is the not the only time they have come, more like the third time this year. You can read about another encounter here. They came in the middle of the day on Sunday when I was just about to take a nap, and of course the dogs alerted me that someone was there. Normally, I would not have opened the door at all and just pretended to not be home, but I thought it might have been my landlord. I opened the door and talked to them from afar, kind of nodded my head, even as they read some passage from the Bible, took their pamphlets, and then they left. They left, saying they hoped they could sit and chat with me sometime. Okay, that will never happen.
The second one happened yesterday. I had just gotten home and was about to feed my dogs, and then there was a knock on the door. It was a young kid--maybe seven or eight, selling some "spirit" card. It's essentially a card with a lot of different local restaurants, service places, and other businesses. Apparently, each time you shop there, you get a discount of some kind. This wouldn't have been so bad if I even remotely went to any of these restuarants or businesses. How could I say no to some sweet-looking young kid whose mom was in my driveway? I ended up giving up ten dollars I could have used elsewhere. As I was exchanging money with the kid, the mother yells out to me that she sees me all the time (I assumed out running). I guess this is one way to get to know the neighbors despite the fact that I've been here for oh six years.
It's encounters like these and this one too that happened this year which sometimes makes me feel like I have "sucker" written on my forehead. It's like there is a sign on my door that tells people to come by, because this person is nice, polite, and you can just get something from her. Any situation where people are "selling" their services at my door leave me feeling very uncomfortable, especially religious ones.
I have a hard time saying no anyway, but this doesn't make it feel any easier. Why is it I have no problem with some telemarketer who is trying to sell something over the phone that I am not interested? But face to face just seems so much harder, and if there is some cute kid, that just causes guilt. After all, who wants to reject a kid, even when it is like Girl Scout cookies which you don't even eat anyway. I've had that happen over the years as well with my landlord's daughter. There was a sense of "obligation" to buy from her.
I know I'm not the only one out there with this type of "problem" if you want to call it that. This is why they have classes for sales people to learn ways to entice you to buy something. I guess overall, it just reminds me of how I still have a problem with saying no and being assertive.
After all, isn't this just one other thing that can leave us feeling guilty, overworked, and stressed? So why do we do this to ourselves?
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Empathy in physicians
This study, published today, about physicians missing opportunities for empathy, made me chuckle (okay, and kind of roll my eyes too). This specific study looked at patients with lung cancer and doctors' empathy to their concerns about mortality and treatment options.
The study defined empathy as, " the identification with and understanding of another person's situation and feelings (and) is considered an important element of communication between patients and physicians and is associated with improved patient satisfaction and compliance with recommended treatment."
The results from the study showed that of 384 "empathic" moments, doctors were only empathic 39 times, a mere10%.
Here is one example of where a doctor missed using empathy skills:
The study defined empathy as, " the identification with and understanding of another person's situation and feelings (and) is considered an important element of communication between patients and physicians and is associated with improved patient satisfaction and compliance with recommended treatment."
The results from the study showed that of 384 "empathic" moments, doctors were only empathic 39 times, a mere10%.
Here is one example of where a doctor missed using empathy skills:
Patient: I don't know what the average person does in just two year, three years, a year?
Physician: I think that . . . you certainly could live two or three years. I think it would be very unlikely . . . But I would say that an average figure would be several months to a year to a little bit more.
Though this study was small, consisting of 20 recorded and transcribed consultations, this is likely a scenario carried often. I bring this up, because I'm sure we have all run into a doctor or two who just did not have empathy skills and seemed to not care about our concerns. Some doctors are completely ignorant and make stupid remarks, but they're in a completely different category. For the most part, I've been pretty lucky to have physicians be concerned about me, but I've definitely had those that had horrible bedside manners, were completely ignorant, or didn't listen at all. They don't make you feel entirely secure about the medical profession as a whole. (but of course, there are those standouts that make a difference too)
The thing is, even with the hassles of insurance and time constraints, it doesn't take a doctor or anyone alike long to make a simple remark of concern about you, the patient. Sometimes, it's just comforting to know they are listening and for maybe a moment can feel what it is like to be in your shoes.
In another recent commentary in JAMA, there is a suggestion for training young doctors to have more emotional intelligence, the abilities to perceive, use, understand and manage emotions. While some doctors don't agree with the value of emotional intelligence, other research has showed its effectiveness in improving empathy skills among medical students.
In the end, whether it is a physician or another professional, communication skills are important for you to receive the appropriate care and treatment. This includes both the textbook knowledge as well as understanding emotions and empathy. A dose of concern certainly helps and can go a long way.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
All about weight awareness campaign
Even though this title, "all about weight" is very off putting, I think this Pennsylvannia campaign itself is actually promising. In conjunction with KidsPeace, a 126 year old private children's charity which helps kids overcoming various crises, and their web affiliate TeenCentral, their goal is to help children with the emotional roots of overeating or undereating, an often overlooked problem.
This campaign will reach 1000+ schools throughout PA and provide free access to TeenCentral.Net's websources, study and workshop guides, and TeenCentral's safe, anonymous online resource. Their online "all about weight" awareness campaign includes information on eating disorders, exercise, nutrition, genetics, body image & self-esteem, what's eating you?, and obesity & overweight.
I really like the fact that these experts are looking at not only the physical aspects of weight but also the emotional lives of teenagers. These days, it's hard being a teenager--trying to navigate issues of normal teenagedom as well as deal as with family, social, and environmental issues. I think this is a population that is often not given enough importance, so I'm really glad that there is a resource like this out there for them.
This campaign will reach 1000+ schools throughout PA and provide free access to TeenCentral.Net's websources, study and workshop guides, and TeenCentral's safe, anonymous online resource. Their online "all about weight" awareness campaign includes information on eating disorders, exercise, nutrition, genetics, body image & self-esteem, what's eating you?, and obesity & overweight.
I really like the fact that these experts are looking at not only the physical aspects of weight but also the emotional lives of teenagers. These days, it's hard being a teenager--trying to navigate issues of normal teenagedom as well as deal as with family, social, and environmental issues. I think this is a population that is often not given enough importance, so I'm really glad that there is a resource like this out there for them.
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I took a look through their website to see what it was all about. For the most part, I thought it was well done and age appropriate. There are several interactive gadgets to keep kids interested as well as good information on a number of topics. The new health "all about weight" module provides quizzes, graphics, and information arranged on a virtual scale. Their emphasis is, "sometimes it's not what you're eating, it's what's eating you!" My only qualm is that they do not address overexercising in the exercise portion.
I think the part I found most compelling was the "share a teen" story. This is where teens write in with a problem and receive advice from TeenCentral.Net's counselors. There were stories of dealing with divorce, relationships, sexuality, cutting, depression, eating disorders, and many more related to the angst of teenagehood. It's one of those nostalgic reminders of how much I hated being a teenager and couldn't wait until adulthood. Not that adulthood hasn't presented itself with it's own set of problems, but there is just more of an awareness now. It's where you wish you could tell any one of those teenagers to get help and to know that they can get through this difficult time period in their lives.
I think the part I found most compelling was the "share a teen" story. This is where teens write in with a problem and receive advice from TeenCentral.Net's counselors. There were stories of dealing with divorce, relationships, sexuality, cutting, depression, eating disorders, and many more related to the angst of teenagehood. It's one of those nostalgic reminders of how much I hated being a teenager and couldn't wait until adulthood. Not that adulthood hasn't presented itself with it's own set of problems, but there is just more of an awareness now. It's where you wish you could tell any one of those teenagers to get help and to know that they can get through this difficult time period in their lives.
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