Riding the Wave to Birthdays
Approaching with Delight
Good morning, folks!
Believe it or not, the tail of Bob and all his waiting has settled in to a life with routine and structure (wahoo!!). If you’ve forgotten (or may have missed the previous post) I’ve linked two recent posts below about Bob and his fictional journey on the Ship of Modern American Healthcare (you can click to read more, or scroll through for the rest of this post):
[As a reminder, there’s an audio narration of this post above. Press “play” to listen to the recording]
What About Bob?
We’re going to play a game with our imaginations today. We’re going to pretend we all know the same person, and that this imaginary person is living out the following story in real time. As the story unfolds, we’re also going to imagine that this pretend friend lives an ordinary life similar to our own, and that it’s all happening in Modern Day America.…
Communication Station
Recently I wrote about a fictional human named Bob. Below, we’ll use our imagination again to catch up on Bob’s journey. Remember, he’s a pretend human that we all know and care about, not a real-life father, brother, husband, or friend. This is just pretend.
Riding a Wave
Many (most) people begin a healthcare journey unexpectedly. Very few people are actually hoping to be on this ride. Not a lot of people buy tickets to ride the Ship of Modern American Healthcare. With the exception of elective procedures and pregnancies, let’s use a broad brush to say: nobody wants to be a care recipient. That’s really hard. As a “patient”, you find yourself on a ride with no exit, very little guidance, and a lot of uncertainty. Hopefully, with enough support, patience, and time, the chaos of a new problem or diagnosis will stabilize.
It was very jazz for a while. Disjointed. Lots of waiting. Indefinite pauses.
Eventually, the rhythm returns.
The return to “normal” (even if it’s different from the old normal) — is a return to “baseline”. But life may feel noticeably different. A new normal. A new rhythm —disjointed beats, a slower pace. There may be mobility/activity restrictions (not being allowed to lift, bend, or drive like before). Medication side effects (drowsiness, nausea, constipation, dizziness). Dusting ourselves off from a fall can be disorienting or discouraging. And all of this is going on as the world continues to turn.
People return to work. School. Play.
Pages turn on the calendar.
Holidays and events come and go.
The days roll by.
Tick - Tick - Tick
With passing days comes the inevitable (well, hopefully inevitable): birthday!
Happy Birthday, to you!
I unapologetically love birthdays.
Growing up, a lot of the adults in my life claimed to hate their birthday. The cumulative score. The passing of time. You know, existential stuff like that.
I celebrate the fact that I get a birthday at all.
I think nursing did that to me.
I’ve seen people in their thirties whither away and suffer to death. And I’ve seen folks in their hundreds thriving independently.
The age and ability spectrum was laid out before me in my twenties (earlier than most). Healthcare workers / caring professionals are privy to a crystal ball (a peek into all our possible futures). Looking around has given me an appreciation for my life (and health). And my birthday. And yours.
Birthdays are just special. They are. We get one. One birth day. We might get a re-birthday as we celebrate accomplishments and milestones. Anniversaries.
Annual milestones — a touchstone — of life’s greatest achievement: staying alive.
I sang “Happy Birthday” to many of my people last year.
Ready or not, here it comes!
Bob’s birthday is coming up.
Before a healthcare journey begins, birthdays might feel one way. When we’re faced with the fragility of our bodies or our own mortality, the way we feel could change. I can’t say how Bob feels about his own birthday this year. But I can tell a story and sing a song and give my own perspective.
Here’s a tangent (would I be a Tangential Mango without a side-quest?):
When I was in high school, my parents got me a guitar for Christmas. It was a really cool electric guitar, and I had no idea how to play it. My uncle came and taught me about the strings, frets, and how to play three chords: E, A, and D.
From those three chords, I learned how to play the song “Louie, Louie”.
[If you’re not following along with the audio recording above, you’re missing out on my fumbling, unpracticed guitar skills, just so you know]
And from there, I learned a few others and can (sometimes) play familiar songs from memory. Green Day’s Good Riddance is my other claim to fame. I can sing and play at the same time.
My dad loves live music, and didn’t play guitar at the time. In recent years, he’s taken lessons and has gotten really good at slide guitar. We didn’t used to be able to play guitar, and now we can! How radical is that?
Last year I learned how to play “Happy Birthday”.
In honor of birthdays, yours and mine, Happy Birthday, to you. For the ones past, the one that’s here, or the birthdays to come.
Take good care.
Love,
Jessie
I loved when you sang Happy Birthday for me!!!