Week 9

This is the ninth week of a total of twelve in my internship.  It may take me the first couple years of working to acclimate to waking up at 5:50 AM.  Week nine has not gotten me to the point where I am comfortable with those numbers on my clock.  It feels like I have gotten here so quickly yet at the same time I feel like I am living in slow motion.  The weather here seems to think spring won't ever end and continues to be cloudy and LOW 70's leaving me feeling as those there has been no change in the seasons.  The fact that this is the first of two internships adds to the slow motion feeling; I am going to start this process ALL over again come September 7.

I have learned so much about how to interact with patients and use myself as a therapeutic modality.  But I'm not super therapist yet.  I've realized becoming super therapist is going to take a little longer than I had initially imagined it would.  It may try my patience more than anything has in my life, becoming the therapist I want to be.  Because at the end of the day experience can count for so much.  It can give you an archive of activities for a patient where my inexperience leaves me racking my brain to think of ways to fill three 30 minute sessions with one patient.  It helps smooth the transition and interaction between evaluation and treatment.  It's the magic pixie dust that new therapists want sprinkled all over.

I know I'm getting there.  I had a field visit to the county locked, inpatient psychiatric hospital today.  I was pleasantly surprised at how quickly I could have jumped right into the mix.  It was a very real way to measure my progress.  But my supervisor is leaving for vacation for two weeks and I am now on my own with a near-full case load.  It was overwhelming today to consider what tomorrow will look like.  But I got home and worked out my plans for my patients and began to breathe a little easier.  Here comes the realness.  I think I'm ready.

Where I am right now

Still navigating my way through the 3-in-1 Donald Miller book I purchased when I was home in Oregon during the end of May.  There is so much about his writing that speaks to me, I can hardly explain or believe it.  I'm currently on "Through Painted Deserts".  The author's note had me in tears as I read it because of the way it explained the things I have felt in my heart over the past two years.  Particularly:

"Everybody has to change, or they expire.  Everybody has to leave, everybody has to leave their home and come back so they can love it again for all new reasons."

"I want to keep my soul fertile for the changes, so things keep getting born in me, so things keep dying when it is time for things to die."

I have been feeling physically stuck lately.  I am currently tied to Oakland for fieldwork with only weekends serving as a relief from this tie.  At the same time I have been having vivid dreams about holding and snuggling my newest niece Claire.  Dreams so vivid and sensory that I wake up believing I know exactly how it feels to hold her.  I have been imagining the fourth of July in Chelan because many friends and my boyfriend where there experiencing the celebration and sharing their stories in a way that enabled me to slip into their story-line in my imagination.  When I return to reality I feel stuck.  Granted, the time is flying in my internship.  I love the challenge it is presenting and the way I am learning and adapting into my new career; transforming every day, moving towards the practitioner I should and want to be.  The other therapists are a dynamic group that provide varied points of view for me to learn from.   My weeks and weekends have become significantly more meaningful as I move into my career.  I've been playing beach volleyball in Alameda and creating a new group of friends out on the sand.  So when I say I am stuck it does not necessarily mean everything about life here in Oakland is static for me.  Far from it, actually.  The stuck feeling comes from wanting to be someplace closer to people I have been missing dearly over the past year or so.  However, I have noticed something growing out of this stuck feeling.  My heart has begun fighting against the stuck-ness.  I am looking at the things I can change in my heart since I cannot change my location.  I am finding things that need to die.  This is not necessarily an easy process and I have focused more on the unpleasantness and have associated that with my time here in Oakland.  Donald Miller reminded me that when things die, new, beautiful things will be born.  I am learning to associate the birth of beautiful things within me as part of my experience here too.  Though this does not negate the unpleasantness but it gives it reason.  I am changing.    

Community

Ooh, this is such a tender spot right now.  Because after all my time in Oakland I still am feeling a lack of community.  Especially after having and experiencing such a tight knit community at Puget Sound and within the volleyball team, the absence of community now lingers in my heart, won't be pushed aside.  Living alone, in all honesty, doesn't help.  I can see now that living with others is an amazing way to build community.  I am glad to have experienced living by myself and enjoy many aspects of having my own place but can recognize that giving up control over every aspect of my living environment in order to live in community with others is probably healthier and more beneficial for me.

I have especially been considering community within the church lately.  I've realized I've never had a community within the churches I've attended.  My family was the more prominent community in the church I grew up in and though I did form some relationships I never felt part of a true community there.  I wonder now if I really know how to form my own community, especially in the church.  I want to.  I have been making small, flailing attempts in the church I'm a part of now.  I tried to join a small group my first year living in Oakland, but the group was new and took months to form.  The group finally began meeting just as I was leaving for the summer.  This past semester I tried to become a member but had my interview appointment (the second step in the membership process) changed and then ultimately canceled.  The church then changed the format of its membership course and I still haven't gone through the entire process.  I am now going to try and become part of the volunteer team at the church, hopefully with better results.  I don't know that anyone is at fault in any of these situations, they just didn't work out.  I wonder why they haven't worked out, though, and what if anything I could be doing different.  I know I could be friendlier in church services and try to engage other members and form relationships.  This is not easy.  It is in fact difficult for me to sit in a church service, a lone, young woman and try and create relationships.  Especially when it seems everyone else is there with their significant other/friend/family member and I am the only person on the face of the planet attending a church service alone.  Yet, I also know it is what I want.  I know my failed attempts to form community in the past make me more reluctant to continue trying, bruise my most innermost ego.  And I am coming to an impasse wherein I either need to let go of my own insecurities, self-consciousness and preconceptions and figure out how to build my own community or I don't let go and continue in this state of community-less-ness (yes, I did just make that a word).  I'll let you know how it goes.  

I Lost My Heart in San Francisco

Cheesy title, I know, I just couldn't resist when dedicating this post to the city on the bay.  San Francisco has the reputation as a city of romance and charm for a very good reason: it is utterly romantic and charming.  My friend Chelsey lives in the city and has found great apartments in the most charming neighborhoods.  Her first apartment was in Noe Valley, the hot spot for young parents with children under the age of five-ish.  The houses are charming and it has a small main street that makes it feel like an intimate community in the midst of a giant city.  She now lives in the inner sunset, the neighborhood adjacent to and containing UCSF.  It also lies on the edge of Golden Gate Park.  I just went to her new apartment for the first time on Friday night. I was reminded that one of the most striking parts about San Francisco that creates its atmosphere and sets it apart from other cities is the style of the houses.  I could walk all day long and look at the houses.  Up and down every street noting how that one has a gorgeous trellis with leafy vines and that one has the cutest garage door; and oh, the bay windows!  Snug cafes, intimate bars and exotic restaurants squish together and line the main avenues.

I am aware that not every single street of the city of San Francisco fits this exact description.  It is a big city and thus has areas that fall under the category of "inner city" and "urban".  However, it has somehow maintained the charm of its old houses and snug streets and not allowed the "urban" label to gobble it up whole and turn it into any generic big city.  It has a distinct flavor.

I often kick myself for not moving to the city.  Don't get me, wrong, I have loved discovering Oakland and building my own idea of what it is about.  I love being close to Lake Merritt; the run around the lake has become my all-time favorite.  I like how Oakland isn't as pretentious as San Francisco; because of its notorious reputation people don't have an attitude.  I especially like being ten minutes from school.  That was a big factor in keeping me in Oakland.  The possible commute from San Francisco made me irritated just thinking about it.  However, almost every time I get into one of those cozy SF neighborhoods, I start to think... ooh it would be delightful to live here.  I might just have to keep wandering those cute streets on the weekends for now and finding the bits of Oakland I love too.          

Something New

There's a new kind of stress in town theses days, a new kind of exhaustion.  Were I have completely adapted to the stresses of being a student I am now facing the emotions associated with leaving that role and leaping into a new one.  I am wondering if my education has prepared me fully; can two years truly prepare an OT student to enter fieldwork where at the end they take on the full load of an entry-level occupational therapist?  I stress because I don't feel entirely prepared or confident about starting my fieldwork.  And the question remains, will I, in the next 6-8 months, become the kind of OT that I want to be upon officially entering the field?  Will I be any good at this job I've spent two years and unthinkable amounts of money that I do not currently possess working towards?  I want to believe that it will all work out, I really do.  History (my own and that of my program) tells me it will, but with the novelty of the situation I can't be sure.

More than worrying about my preparation and what kind of an OT I will turn out to be, there is also the stress of a changing lifestyle.  As a student you may have afternoons off, though they can be filled with homework. I will soon transition to working full eight hour days.  My fall fieldwork will start at 7 AM,  which I predict means I'll be in bed by approximately 9-10 every night.  Joining the rat race if you will.  I wonder if my satisfaction with my chosen profession and use of my free time will be enough to keep the little kid in me going.  I don't want to lose her to the stress of increased responsibility and perceived constraints of a full time job.  Essentially, I am wondering how balancing my life will look from here forward.  There is a lot of adjustment that is going to take place very soon.  And I'm scared.  There are moments of excitement but it is sometimes hard to imagine how all these changes could occur seamlessly and without conflict.  These thoughts are leaving my with tension through my shoulders and upper back and a good amount of exhaustion as I enter the last couple weeks of didactic coursework, at the same time hanging on the promise of what could soon be.

My Fight with Food

Ooh, food is a touchy subject around these parts lately.  Mostly because I love it.  And want to eat whatever I want whenever I want.  Then my little friend IBS rears it's ugly head.  There are days when my stomach is turning uncomfortably to the point that I just don't want to eat anything.  Nothing sounds good when you can hear bubbles of God knows what moving through your entire digestive system.  It gets to the point, though, when I just get frustrated and say to my stomach, "I don't care if you're hurting right now, its 9:00 PM and I'm going to eat!"  That usually doesn't really resolve the problem.  It actually prolongs the problem the majority of the time.  It's especially frustrating when I've planned a dinner with friends and by the time the dinner rolls around I've found that my stomach is in some state other than the happy, natural one I would like it to be in.

I now know stress last semester was probably a significant part of the symptoms I've experienced and they have gotten much better this semester in many ways.  But whenever I feel my stress levels rising it seems to poke back around.  There are also times when it pokes back around and I can't quite figure out why.  Mornings are usually dicey, which is heartbreaking because having that wonderful hungry feeling in the AM and then simply fulfilling it is now a luxury and I didn't appreciate it's magnificence in the past.  I know there are certain foods that aggravate things (coffee. can. ruin. me.) but some of these foods used to be my absolute favs (like cheese, and baked goods full of butter and milk).  I've found some wonderful alternatives (soy yogurt is amazingly delicious and well-made vegan cookies can disguise themselves as the real thing) but it's hard sometimes to stay away from the things I know I should avoid.  I also have not been charting everything I eat along with my symptoms to systematically review what foods in my diet are aggravating (this is what has been suggested by several healthcare professionals I've seen along the way).  Mostly because I've charted my food intake before for a nutrition class and it takes quite some time out from your days and weeks.  Thus far, I have tried to keep a running mental log of things that bite back after I've bitten (and chewed) them.  I know it's probably not the best method but as I said I've identified a couple food items.  

I'm wondering lately how exactly it works, trying to not only restructure your diet, but in many ways your relationship with food.  Sometimes I feel like food and I are in a fight.  He gets mad at me then I resolve that, but then he does something stupid and pisses me right off.  The cycle continues, as one fight is dissolved another rears its ugly head.  I also wonder at one point I need to head back to my GI MD to see what medications are available.  What level of IBS symptoms are/should be tolerable?  There's so much about this condition that is unclear which makes the day-to-day process of adjusting to it frustrating.

This has been a little bit of a rant but I think I needed to get it out.  I have been voluntarily changing my concepts of food (and portion sizes) the last two years or so and this has been a wrench thrown into my changing concepts of the stuff we eat.  I want to find a healthy balance with food, where I can eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm full and not have the need to munch on something while studying or feel like I don't have the desire to eat because of the state of unrest my digestive system is in.  Hopefully I'll get there.

      

 

My most meaningful educational experience

My experience with higher education and its relationship to religion has been less than encouraging as a Christian.  Many involved in higher education find the topic of religion in an educational discourse offensive.  They seem to think that religion is for those who are unlearned and react often harshly to any mention of God.

This was delightfully not the case during my Wednesday night class at UC Berkeley two weeks ago.  The class is in interdisciplinary elder care.  I've had the opportunity in this class to interact with students and professors in other areas of healthcare such as optometry, social work and nutrition.  I've learned what their profession's values are in their own words.  It has been a great experience overall but the most powerful experience centered around the field of chaplaincy.  We had a chaplain who went to a Baptist Seminary explain to us his role as part of an interdisciplinary team and answer all of or burning questions.

First, the chaplain, named Peter, was very accessible.  I somehow formed the idea in my growing years that church leaders were somehow different then me and I should act a certain way around them.  This idea was contradicted when my brother became a youth minister and Peter was further evidence that pastors are in fact real people.  He had a wonderful sense of humor (Jerry Springer kept coming up in the course of the class) and was very grounded (when a student asked how he dealt with the heavy nature of his job he unashamedly answered that he has a spiritual mentor he meets with regularly, a very supportive network of chaplains and a therapist he sees on a regular basis).  What was particularly freeing and wonderful about the class was that it made Christianity an academic subject.  He explained the three modalities he uses as a chaplain to meet patient's needs and explained that he must constantly assess which modality he is using and to what extent.  As an OT, I also must constantly assess my choices in treatment and adjust to meet the patient's needs.  There is a common ground in the two professions.  This common ground helps us work together on a team and I love the idea of working closely with chaplains.  Because the idea of chaplaincy is really quite amazing; a chaplain will, without bias, meet the spiritual needs of patients.  Often, this means the chaplain must help patients work through spiritual questions about a faith that may be very different from their own.  This is a great burden.  Peter spoke about how he struggled when he first became a chaplain because part of his Baptist training was in ministering to others and sharing his faith in the hopes of bringing people into the Baptist faith.  He wrestled with having to lay down this part of his seminary training as a chaplain.  He came to the conclusion that God will still create opportunities for him to share his faith, even if its not with every patient.  he was not beaten down by this difficult aspect of his job, he still had hope that he would minister to others.

Another very important factor in making this class so meaningful was my classmates.  They were very open to the discussion and had a real interest in the experience of a chaplain.  They helped create an environment where it was safe to talk about religion, to talk about God.  And Peter honestly told us about his experiences.  It was an incredible sharing of information.  I gained so much because my classmates were willing to quiet their own ideas and beliefs about religion.  It never turned into an argument, everyone was open to learn.  That openness and honesty was prevalent for the entire class time.  When I walked out I had a smile on my face and told my friend Chelsey "that was the coolest class I think I've ever been to".  Most importantly I was able to connect two parts of myself, my life as a student pursing higher education and my spiritual life as a Christian. Those two had never been connected before.  They may never be connected in that same way again.  However, I will never forget the way in which they can connect and the clarity and truth I felt during my class with a chaplain.