Isolation

It's awfully quiet around here and I even had to make my own coffee this morning. I kept busy yesterday with a doctor's appointment in the city, lunch with mom and some fun time with Natalie and her kids. I didn't get home until 5:30! Michael phoned and all is going well, so far. 

Story #1: Thursday night, a woman phoned whom I have written about in past blogs. She is the wife of a long-time friend of ours who has been bedridden with lupus. For at least the past 10+ years, she has been full of pain medications and has tried to control her husband and children from her bed. It has not been successful and she has missed their childhood. The children are now of an age where they are graduating and leaving. Her time with them is almost up. A couple of months ago, she phoned to tell me she removed a lot of her pain medications. She sounded great. On Thursday night, she phoned to tell me that she had removed most of the pain meds and was going to removed them all. She was ready to get back into life instead of hiding in her bed. She was not going to let the disease control her life anymore. She now makes the bed in the morning so she doesn't crawl back into it. She now is downstairs on a couch with the family. She is trying to do things around the house to help her husband, though he is not totally convinced she is changing and is self protecting. It will take time.

Story #2: Yesterday, I was on the phone with a friend from the school who moved back east. We were talking about Matt and Mary and how they had not gotten dressed or left the house for several months. Even groceries were delivered. There was silence on the other end of the line. Since moving, my friend has not found a job or even a friend. She is not really motivated to do either. She asked me how to get herself out of isolation.

Isolation. Often a bad diagnosis also brings many changes including isolation. With my diagnosis and treatment with immune-suppressant drugs, I was no longer allowed to be around children. Germ-filled little ones. I no longer could work.

Overnight, I had lots of time on my hands. We are early risers and I continued to get up early and be dressed and ready to do something by 7:00. There was suddenly no place to go. I deeply missed my job and my social interactions and my professional life. All my friends worked.

I went right from my busy job to pulmonary rehab just twice a week but it got me out of the house and allowed for human interactions. The class was seven people, all at least two decades older than I was, but one was a nice woman and we became friends. After the eight weeks, she did not continue with the maintenance part of rehab and I began the new class on my own again. And that is when I met my rehab boys. I met my lifelong friends. Around this same time, I talked Dr. K. into allowing me to go to the other rehab three days a week. There is where I met so many people who have become such good friends.

So when speaking with the women in both stories this week, I suggested that they sign up for anything - senior stretch class, yoga, a gym - and go whether they feel like it or not. Get up, get dressed, get out. It is the first step. 

Compliment people. That always opens a conversation but it has to be the truth. "I love your boots!" "That color looks fantastic on you!" "Gorgeous nails!" Smile. I suggested to both that they just don't vomit their life story on everyone they meet. Give bits of information followed by questions about the other person. I have found that people think that you are brilliant and nice while all you are doing is being interested in them. Listening. It is the secret. Let your own story unfold slowly.

My one friend is very picky and critical and tends to over-think things. I told her to try and not look for the "perfect" friend and that she might be someone unexpected. Don't pass her by because the woman doesn't tick all of her boxes. After talking with someone a few times, ask her to meet for a cup of coffee. Again, don't over-talk. Listen. Try not to judge. 

I have learned that every single person has a lesson for me to hear and to learn. Every single person has a story, though some are more interesting than others. Some women I met were in my life just briefly, some are sporadic contacts and others have become dear friends. 

After hearing all of this, my story #2 friend said, "What I am hearing is that I have to have more gumption."

And that, dear reader, is the very first step out of isolation.