Well That Escalated Quickly

Hey Friends,

I know that I just blogged a few days ago, but I've got plenty of time and suspect, given the steady increase in "get to know me better" Facebook survey posts,  that you might have some free time as well ...so why not provide a little update, given that EVERYTHING has changed here on our island in the last few days!

As more cases of Covid-19 have been discovered in Cayman over the past 5 days, our government has been tightening the reigns by the hour. On Monday, an island-wide curfew was instilled. We were told that we were not allowed to leave our house between 9pm and 5am. On Tuesday that curfew was extended from 7pm to 6am.  We were also told that all non-essential services would be shutting down immediately. Yesterday we were put into a 24 hour curfew lasting until Saturday. This means that we cannot leave our house until this curfew is lifted on Saturday morning...or until they tell us what the next plan of action is. There is a steep punishment for disobeying the law - a $3000 CI fine and/or one year imprisonment. The police have already arrested one person for breaking curfew.

With changes that affect your day-to-day being implemented by the hour, your mind races and your emotions go into overdrive, as you attempt to process the new information and accept the loss of control over your daily life. On Monday, for example, when we were told about the 9pm curfew, I laughed nervously as I said to Ev, "Good thing we go to bed at 8:30!" On Tuesday when the curfew was extended and non-essential services were shut down, I found myself panic shopping at the liquor store, wondering what the hell Benedictine is and whether or not I might actually need it for a cocktail. Yesterday when we were informed about the impending 24 hour lockdown, I raced to the beach for one last beach walk and swim in those incredible turquoise waters. I went to the spot where Monty's ashes were spread and had a little chat with him. Personally, I think that Monty would have thrived during this lockdown, as he often put himself into isolation when he felt socially overwhelmed, watching old movies and perfecting his Gumbo for days. Wherever he is, I imagine that although he is concerned about family and friends, he probably finds it amusing that we are losing our shit over being temporarily stuck inside!

Whoa that pedicure is rough man, and it's only gonna get worse.

Where is everyone? Oh, they are standing in the 2-hour line at Fosters trying to buy toilet paper. 

At the risk of sparking a political debate (trust me, that is not my intent and is not in the forefront of my mind these days!), I will say this...I fully support our government's decision to act radically in this situation. We are currently at 8 cases and although these measures are extreme, I feel as though we are ahead of most countries in terms of acting swiftly, boldly,  and putting the health of our country first.

Our Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Lee, was my Pain Specialist for the first 4 years that we lived in Cayman. He was one of the best Doctors that I have ever had the opportunity to work with (and I have seen MANY doctors!). Dr. Lee worked methodically and patiently to wean me off of Opioids. He never sugar-coated the situation, he prepared me for what to expect, and he was always anticipating the next plan of action. Dr. Lee rarely responded impulsively when I asked questions. Rather, he pulled down books from his library and spent much time searching online to provide me with his most educated and comprehensive answer. During one of our last appointments together, he calmly commended me on persevering through the process, and explained that he was retiring. He couldn't wait to spend more time with his dog and enjoy island life without the intense working hours. Shortly after his retirement I heard that he agreed to take on the Chief Medical Officer position. I see him tirelessly and steadily explaining and answering Covid-19 questions in multiple press conferences a day, and although I feel sorry that he is not presently enjoying his retirement, I am incredibly grateful that he's our leader through this unprecedented event.

So with that being said, today is our first day in full 24-hour lockdown. We are allowed to take our dogs for walks around our complex, but we are banned from being on the road or anywhere in our neighbourhood. Police helicopters regularly fly overhead, patrolling our country for curfew-breakers. This morning when Dundee and I had finished our short loop around the complex, Dundee suddenly sat down on the grass and stared out into the distance. The usual sounds - car motors, laughter, planes flying overhead - were gone. I think that even Dundee noticed as he swivelled his head left, then right, then left again and sniffed the air. Is he wondering what the hell is going on ("What did those humans do now?") or is he simply noticing that time appears to have come to a standstill, and he has the luxury of enjoying another peaceful day with his favourite people?

Hang in there friends. Stay safe. Stay sane.

Hey there! I know things have been ruff, but we are feline fine!

Stranded on an island with Wilson

Whoa! The shit has hit the fan - to put it mildly! I know that everyone in the world is experiencing chaos and uncertainty right now. Our little island is also reeling from the Coronavirus, and in addition to that we have experienced a series of events since January, including the 7.7 earthquake and a massive fire at our dump that caused road and school closures about a week before the virus began impacting us. It's been one thing after the other here, and at the risk of speaking on behalf of everyone on island, we all wish we could restart 2020. If 2020 was a Nintendo game, I would pull out the cartridge, vigorously blow on it, and start this sucker over.

So here's the situation in Cayman: We currently have 3 confirmed cases on Grand Cayman - no confirmed cases thus far on Cayman Brac or Little Cayman. Our first positive case occurred a week ago. Apparently a man was having heart issues on a cruise ship and was transported to one of our three hospitals where he received cardiac treatment. He then began exhibiting respiratory issues, tested positive for Covid-19, and unfortunately passed away. The hospital in which he was treated immediately shut its doors to new admissions. The other confirmed cases were health care workers who directly treated the patient. As soon as we had 1 confirmed case, our government acted quickly. They shut down the schools that day, cancelled all cruise ships that were scheduled in port, and made a plan to close our airport, restaurants, and bars. The last flight will arrive on island this Sunday, and the passengers on this flight will mostly consist of students who are residents of Cayman but receiving education abroad. Arrangements have been made  for the new arrivals to self-isolate in the hotels, which will be empty of tourists by Sunday. It is so imperative that these people self-isolate for 14 days in order to flatten the curve, as they say. I hope hope hope that they take it very seriously.

That's what's going on here. Our tourism industry is in a free-fall, and many service workers have left the island before the airport closure. It's scary as shit and like everyone else in the world, there are many people worried about how they are going to feed their families and keep a roof over their head during this time. I have been very impressed with our government's response. It is apparent that the health of the island is the priority and although temporarily (hopefully) devastating to our tourism industry, cancelling flights and shutting this island down is, in my opinion, the only way to slow this thing down. I also feel secure in knowing that many of my students who depend on school lunches and food vouchers will be supported by the government during the school closure.

How am I feeling about all of this? I am probably feeling the same as you. For once, we (everyone in the world) is kind of in the same boat, hey?  I feel anxious, scared, confused, uncertain, lonely. I worry about my family and friends back home. There is something eery and unsettling about being stranded on an island, with really no way out. When I was a kid I watched Gilligan's Island reruns, and longed to be stranded on island with coconut phones and palm frond hammocks. Nowhere in my fantasy was social distancing and a horrible respiratory virus! (Although surely Professor would have combatted this quickly😉). On the flip side, if we can contain the virus, then being stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere might certainly be the best place to be during all of this. I dunno. It's strange to see our beaches, typically packed with tourists, desolate and quiet. On the other hand, it's peaceful and serene.

Wilson washed up on shore! Even though he's "set" in his ways, and always "spikes" the drinks that he "serves" me, I really "dig" him. 

I am lucky enough to be able to work from home, so I have begun creating video lessons for my students. When I was a kid, I used to pretend that I was the host of a children's show called "Crafts R Us" (Read: ONLY CHILD 😂). I used to demonstrate how to make crafts out of objects found in the home. So here I am, age 40, essentially hosting my own TV shows! It's basically a dream come true! Disclosure: My first 7-minute video took me 4 hours!!! There were tears, people. Good God. But oh man, I sure don't know how people with children are able to get anything accomplished at home. Mad respect to you! And deep respect to our health care workers. I worked in the hospital setting during H1N1 and I can't even imagine how difficult and stressful this is for our front line workers.

No live audience today due to social distancing.

Notice how everyone has a opinion right now? Sooo many opinions! I am not an expert at navigating a pandemic, I do not have a medical degree, and I sure as hell don't have any words of wisdom regarding managing your finances during tough times! (Um...ya budgets are not my thing 🙅).

But...here's what I'm doing to stay sane:

1) I am only "tuning in" to pandemic news, posts, etc twice a day - I check once in the morning, and once around 5pm. After 5pm, I refuse to watch news programs, read Facebook posts, or listen to someone's opinion about coronavirus. All this news is overwhelming, increases my anxiety, and affects my sleep. We all know that quality sleep is an important factor in increasing immunity.

2) I am attempting to stick to a schedule.  I have scheduled work time into my day, as well as frequent breaks where I try to move as much as possible. I lay my yoga mat on the floor first thing, and when I feel overwhelmed by work, news, etc, I go to 6 minute abs, a push-up ladder, or hold a yoga pose. I also schedule in a 30-minute comedy sitcom here and there (thank goodness for "Friends" reruns).

Home gym. Dundee is my water boy.

3) I am getting fresh air. Given that we are lucky enough to be stranded on a tropical island, we may as well take advantage of this incredible climate. I take Dundee for regular walks, go to a quick pool workout, and take walks on the beach. Now that our beaches are pretty much deserted, it feels very safe to walk along the beach, knowing I will not be in contact with anyone.

4) I am trying to laugh. Yes, I agree that we need to take this seriously. But do I enjoy a good meme every once in a while? Of course! I am acting responsibly, but I am still allowing myself to feel joy, chuckling at the stupid jokes on Facebook or indulging in a good "autocorrect fails" post. It also feels good to connect with family and friends on Whatsapp and use humour to defuse tense situations.

5) I am focusing on the population who is really benefitting during all of this. Who, you ask, could possibly be "winning" during such uncertain and frightening times? The pets, of course. My little white dog, Dundee, and my old senile cat have never received so much attention! They are thriving! Biloxi has even started hiding away in the bath tub to avoid the daily songs that I compose and sing to my furry friends.  There is a conspiracy theory going around that the pets orchestrated all of this, and as Dundee happily takes his 5th walk in a 2-hour period, I can't help but think this might be the one true conspiracy theory out there.

living his best life. 

He's not so keen on Wilson

In all seriousness, take care everyone. Do the right thing. Don't put others at risk. Keep yourself healthy, and remember that your mental health affects your physical health and vice versa.

Cheers to Flo Rida for writing and singing, "My House," the current soundtrack of our lives.

"Sometimes you gotta stay in...in"

All Shook Up

Hey Everyone!

Well it's been a crazy week on our little island, as we experienced one of the largest earthquakes ever recorded in the Caribbean. On Tuesday, a 7.7 magnitude earthquake struck us just after 2:00 pm, and reports indicate that we've had about 17 aftershocks since. Everyone is a little unnerved to say the least, but amazingly, there was minimal damage for such a large quake, and no major injuries were reported.

Three days post, everyone is talking about where they were when the earthquake hit. There are incredible stories of divers experiencing the earthquake 50 feet under the sea, people walking down stairs that were swaying from side to side, and even people who had the unfortunate experience of being on the toilet when the quake struck!

This was my experience:

I was in a meeting with other Specialists at my assigned school in West Bay. The meeting wasn't going particularly well, and I'm not gonna lie, the thought "I would do anything to get out of this right now" went through my head! I experienced a sudden sharp pain in my hand and shouted "ow!" out loud in the meeting. My colleagues looked to me to see if I was okay. The pain stopped and about 3 minutes later I felt a rolling sensation in my stomach. The table began to clatter. The walls began to shake. The glass door began to rattle. My mind did not process what was going on until one of my coworkers yelled, "It's an earthquake! Get under the table!" I leaped under the table and gripped the floor with my fingers. The rolling was not stopping. One of my colleagues was talking the entire time,  providing a minute to minute commentary, "This is an earthquake. This is not ending. Oh my god...it's not ending! Oh God this is a very big earthquake!" The door to our conference room was made of glass and I could see Teachers and students running across the grass - as the earth was still moving. "They shouldn't be running!" shouted a colleague and got up to tell them to duck for cover.

I remained on all fours under the table, feeling as though I was going to throw up when I noticed that I was now the only person remaining under the table. "It's over, Kirstie," said my Ed Psych Bud, Stephanie. "No! it's still shaking," I replied as I felt the ground continue to move. "No it's just your body. It's ok." I tried to move. I really did. But I was frozen in place. I felt paralyzed. And I realized, as I gripped the floor with my fingertips that there were tears streaming down my face. I guess where most people's body's go into "flight" or "fight" mode,  my body opted for the much less popular "freeze" mode. As I wiped the tears from my face, I could hear Stephanie searching around in her purse - later I would find out that she was trying to find me a Xanax! (now that's a good friend). Once I got my shit together and realized that I could move, I got out from under the table and knew that our first priority was tending to the 600 students at our school.

It was complete chaos. We had never participated in earthquake drills before. The students somehow (thankfully) all ended up convening on the school field. Students and Teachers were crying, praying, hugging, and panicking. I put on my best calm face and started chatting with frightened students, "Wow! that was something. Don't worry, we are all safe!" A rumour had spread in about 1.2 seconds that Jamaica had fallen into the sea due to the earthquake, and since many of our children have family in Jamaica, students were bawling and screaming, "My family is dead!" I assured the kids

that Jamaica had not fallen into the sea (it hadn't, right?) and handed my phone out to children so they could call mommies and daddies, grandmas and grandpas.

For a few minutes, I felt as if everything would be fine. It looked as though our school was still standing. A quick glance indicated that no one was hurt. Evan had messaged me, "I'm Ok. Are you Ok?" But then a colleague quietly whispered to me, "There is a tsunami warning."

Shit. A million questions went through my head. How much time do we have? Where do we go? What do we do? How high could this wave be?

My colleague urged me to get to Evan, as I knew he and the pets were alone in our ground floor condo, a mere feet from the ocean, with no vehicle to escape.

I quickly got in my vehicle and turned on the radio. An emergency broadcast message aired over the stations, "An earthquake has struck the island. A tsunami wave is possible. Go inland and go vertical. Get to higher ground."

"Get to higher ground. Get to higher ground." I kept repeating these words in my head.

We live on a flat island where the highest elevation is about 50 feet above sea level. What did this mean? Where the hell was higher ground??

I quickly messaged family and let them know that we were okay and were seeking "higher ground." My mom called me and we were both choking up a little over the phone, but I assured her that we would seek safety.

When I arrived at our condo, I found a very cool and calm Evan, who had obviously not just been surrounded by 600 frantic people! He even took the opportunity to video the earthquake! We packed up the pets and got in our vehicle, really not too sure where we would go.

As we began to venture out of our West Bay neighbourhood, it was apparent that everyone had the same idea. The streets were gridlocked with traffic. At this point, the emergency broadcast said "A wave has been generated. Go inland. Go vertical."

Vertical? Stop using words that do not help us! We sat, mostly unmoving, in bumper to bumper traffic for nearly 90 minutes. Reports were coming in from family that a wave was expected to hit Cayman at 1930 UST. What was UST? What time zone was that? Did we have hours? Did we have minutes? I kept looking out the window to see if a wave was coming towards us. All I could envision were the horrific videos of the tsunami that struck Thailand many years ago. I remember thinking, "If a wave hits us now...all of us...every single person their car is going to drown." The animals were eerily quiet in the backseat and Evan was trying to distract me with a story about a dog...or something.

Suddenly the emergency broadcast message chimed a new message, "A tsunami wave is now unlikely. Continue to move inland." I looked up to the sky and noted helicopters circling above the sea - apparently the police had dispatched them to see if a wave was coming, and thank God, it was not.

At that point, Evan and I decided to turn around and head home. We had traveled less than 10 miles in 90 minutes, had a quarter of a tank of gas, my phone had died, and we really had no set destination in mind.

When we returned to the house I checked in with all my family, went straight online to educate myself about what just happened (isn't it incredible that we maintained a wifi connection through all of that), and devoured a glass of wine. My nerves were shot. I began to wonder if I had imagined the entire thing.

That was definitely one of the most frightening events I have ever experienced.  In hindsight, I think what scares me the most is the fact that no one knew what to do. I had no idea what to do during the quake (Do I get in a bathtub?  Go to the basement? Get in a doorway?) Our school didn't know what to do. The emergency broadcast that was issued didn't provide much information, other than words that ensued panic. I found out later that a tsunami would have hit us 26 minutes after the quake. 26 minutes. Most of us didn't even know about the tsunami warning at the 26 minute mark! You are told to evacuate buildings post earthquake in case of structural damage, but then told to head to the highest floor in case of a tsunami? And what if this would have occurred in the night? It would have taken much more time for anyone to report online what was happening. Thinking about how this event could have easily had much different and disastrous outcome is absolutely chilling, and has been keeping me up at night.

Since the event, life is going on...as usual...sorta. We were back to school two days after the event. Most of our kids are pretty resilient and didn't seem bothered by the event - many of the adults, on the other hand, are experiencing heightened anxiety. There was very minimal structural damage, which is incredible given the 7.7 magnitude of the quake, and gives me confidence that "hurricane standards" of buildings obviously must meet "earthquake standards" as well.  My colleagues who were present in our meeting that day are joking that my body predicted the earthquake, given the sudden pain and outcry of "ouch!" just minutes before. I'm trying to figure out how I can harness this "skill"?? and maybe get my own show on TLC as the "earthquake predictor" Ha!

If something like this ever happens again, we need to be better. As adults in charge of frightened children, we need to maintain calm and order. Our schools need to practice frequent earthquake drills and be better prepared. The information that is being dispensed to the public needs to be more detailed. Everyone needs to have a earthquake, and subsequent tsunami plan, as we now know that a tsunami warning will almost always follow the earthquake.

I am extremely thankful that our resilient little island bounced back in record time. I'm very thankful that we are all safe and that I have the opportunity to blog about it!

Cheers friends!

People on tropical islands get sad too

Anyone else feel down in the dumps/blue/in the depths of despair right now? I used to assume that it was a "winter" thing. You know... January in Saskatchewan means exposure to light for about 6 hours a day paired with frigid "Why the f do I live here" temperatures. There was such a build-up to Christmas and now it is over. Holidays have come and gone. Any hope of melting is at least 4-5 months away. It's just a sad, depressing time of the year. Prior to our move, I remember seeing someone's vacation post which included a photograph of the aqua blue Caribbean waters with the words, "These are the only January blues I experience in the Caribbean," and thinking, "Yes! Moving to a tropical island will insure myself against sadness!" Oops. Wrong. The truth is...people who live on tropical islands feels sadness too, and I would argue that January is a difficult month for many people - regardless of where you reside.

Nobody likes a whiner, but it's my blog, so I'm going to whine for just a little bit...

This is why I was sad this week:

- Many of my students did not have a nice Christmas break. It broke my heart when I heard, "Santa didn't come because I am bad" and "Santa fell asleep and forgot my house." The sucky reality is that, for many of the children with whom I work, Christmas was not a joyous family occasion. Truth bomb: Sometimes I feel guilty about the fact that Evan and I have such a loving and stable home and have chosen not to bring a child into it, when there are so many children in crappy situations.

- My knees sucked. I'm not sure why. Let's call it a "January flare up." I came home from work a few days and could barely walk. I hate that feeling. It reminds me of shitty days and often starts a spiral of negative thoughts that my surgery has failed or that the disease is progressing.

- More than a  few of my co-workers have resigned and are moving on. Since Monty passed, nothing has been the same at work. So many changes have been implemented this year in the schools and to our department, and many colleagues are over it. I will really miss these faces at work, but I don't blame them for seeking a happier job environment. Work has been tough.

- There is a dog I see everyday on my way to school. He is chained to a doghouse and barely has room to turn around. I've submitted a formal report, but what I really want to do is sneak in and free him from that damn chain. The mistreatment of animals makes me incredibly sad, pisses me right off, and unfortunately is a common problem here on our beautiful island.

- The koalas!! Such a beautiful country is on fire.  Oh my goodness these Australian fires are so so so sad.

- The missile accidentally shot down an airplane? WTF. All those poor innocent people! The news is  a plethora of despair these days.

Ok, I've got more but I'm going to stop there. Does anyone else feel like this right now? Surely I can't be alone. I don't consider myself to be a negative person, but I'm struggling to find positivity at the moment. And...I know I know....I live in a beautiful place where the sun shines and temperatures never dip below 25 degrees. I have so much to be grateful for! And for the record, I am not attempting to trump anyone's sadness. I know that many people are going through a lot more than I am right now! But doesn't everyone have the "right" to feel sad? Why do we feel guilt and shame admitting when we feel sad? It's a natural human emotion and I'm gonna throw it out there and say it's OK to feel sad. It's healthy to feel sad. For a little while, anyway. Wallow in your sadness for a bit and then move on.

So...what can I do? I have the power to pull myself out of this....what? Blue hole?

I'm going to offer up some advice and then I'm going to try my best to take it:

1) Repetition: 
Children love to be read the same story repeatedly. Even when it drives their parents crazy! The repetition has a calming effect on children.  I truly believe that adults are the same. There is something safe and comforting about predictability. That is why I watch "Friends" episodes when I feel crappy. I know each and every episode by heart. I am comforted by the fact that I know Joey will walk in the room during the next scene and say "How you doin'?" So go revisit a book, movie, or TV show that you enjoyed to excess and your youth. Suggestions include: Sex and the City, Dirty Dancing, and Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

2) Hugs:
Did you know that when we are hugged our body releases a chemical called oxytocin? Oxytocin is associated with happiness - it decreases your blood pressure and decreases norepinephrine - a stress hormone. My friends are going to laugh at this one because they know that I am often opposed to hugging. What I am opposed to is "obligation hugging." An obligation hug is one of those awkward hugs you give when you are unsure as to how to greet someone. I am not; however, opposed to a solid authentic "I care about you" hug. My body also releases a whole whack of oxytocin when I hug my pets. I'm not sure if my pets always enjoy this, but hey, I don't always enjoy picking up their poop either.

3) Cry it out:
Sometimes you just need a good cry. My good cry occurred quite spontaneously when Heart's "How do I get you alone" came on the radio on my drive back from the gym. As salty tears and wayward snot ran down my face, I dodged chickens and the usual drunk West Bay drivers on the road to my home. A good cry does the body good, but I highly recommend NOT doing it in your vehicle whilst driving.

4) Exercise:
Cliche, I know. But science doesn't lie, my friends. Once the heart starts pumping, the endorphins are released, and you receive a natural mood boost. Plus...when you are sweating away on the treadmill, your mind doesn't have the luxury of analyzing all your negative thoughts and spiralling them out of control. Take that, mind! Not to mention that it feels pretty good to burn away those Christmas calories.

5) Talk to people:
I was pretty amazed to find out that I wasn't the only one with the January blues this week. I mentioned it in passing to a few people - coworkers, friends, family, and almost everyone with whom I spoke agreed that they felt it too! It's not just me?! There is something comforting about knowing that you are not alone in your despair. Also - knowing that someone else shares my sadness motivates me to cheer them up. Just the act of cracking a joke to boost someone else's mood can help boost your own.

Ok. That's what I've got. Let me know if you have any other suggestions. I'm off to the gym to cry on the treadmill! ;)

Cheers, friends!

The secret to a happier life - a "Universal" state of mind

Hey Friends,

I recently returned from a little trip to Orlando, where I attended one of the largest Speech-Language Pathology conventions in the world hosted by ASHA (American Speech and Hearing Association). As an added perk to the trip, I managed to convince my "little" sis to meet me for some solid sister time in the happiest place on Earth. Overall, it was a fantastic trip!

The convention was overwhelming, to say the least. There were about 15, 000 Speech-Language Pathologists in 7,000,000 square feet (that's like the size of the island that I live on!) I have never been amongst so many scarves (North American SLP's), pearls (UK SLP's), and type A personalities (ALL SLP's) in my life. We are definitely an identifiable group!  It was nice to be around so many like-minded professionals from around the world and I did learn a lot about the latest research, new therapy techniques, and also about myself. Firstly, I learned that I do actually still know a lot. I worry sometimes that working as a speech path on a tiny island might result in an erosion of my speechie skills, but I was also relieved to find out, through many different seminars, that I am doing many of the "right" things with my kiddos. I also learned that I have chilled out a lot since moving to this island. After observing so many of my perfectionist counterparts who appear to be tightly wound, eagerly rushing and stressing about the time and location of each seminar, it occurred to me that both my mind and body now move at a much slower, relaxed pace. After six years, I think that I have officially acclimatized to island time. Whooo! I did it! haha.

Now the convention was fun, but the real fun was hanging with my sister, Kayla! We were both busy during the days, but managed to get out in the evenings. We saw Orlando from 400 feet on the Orlando Eye where Kayla introduced me to a very lovely refreshing beverage called White Claw (sponsor us!) We also spent an evening in the piano bar at Universal City Walk, where we sang our little hearts out for a few hours. When the entertainer urged the crowd to insert the name of our hometowns in "Sweet Home Alabama," we were shocked to hear the table behind us shout "Moose Jaw!" (a city in Saskatchewan!). Needless to say, we made some friends and had a super fun night!

The highlight of the trip was our day at Universal Studios. Funny enough, Kayla and I had been to Universal together nearly 20 years ago! I still have vivid memories of little 5 year old Kayla (I think the only time she was shorter than me) crying while I tried desperately to convince her that Jaws was not a real shark.  Anyway, it was way more fun 20 years later and we never waited more than 25 minutes to get on a ride.  Hallelujah! A few of the attractions were a little more "advanced" than we anticipated. The "Mummy," for example, was a roller coaster in complete darkness that had the audacity of traveling  backwards! After screaming non-stop for 2 minutes (felt like 15), we exited the ride in absolute terror, shocked that they allowed small children and island-dwelling middle-aged women who are overstimulated by escalators on this ride!

Traumatized

We drank butter beer with Harry Potter, ate the "big pink" ginormous donut with the Simpsons, and managed to hit up every single ride (minus the giant scary roller coaster) in the park. Our day ended with an absolutely incredible Macy's Christmas parade, and we left Universal feeling fulfilled and joyful. Our senses had been overloaded to the max -  but in a really great way.

This feeling got me thinking about the principles of Universal Studios, and how we can apply these to our own lives - you know, to increase our overall level of happiness.

Here's what I got:

1) Line? What line?
Universal does an excellent job of concealing lines. Think about it - when you see a line of hundreds of people winding around a building, feelings of stress, agitation, and hopelessness are evoked. Well Universal has created "holding rooms" for the patrons to eliminate this stress. You might think that you've reached the end of the line as you enter a room with gadgets on the walls to tinker with, and multiple screens projecting your "mission", but in fact, you are actually still in line. They have tricked you by changing the scenery, and provided you with new things to see and touch. And you know what? We fall for it.

My Proposal
Install holding rooms in places with the longest lines. Picture it: you walk into the DMV, where you would normally expect to wait in a long line for up to 2 hours. However, someone greets you enthusiastically at the door and escorts you into a room with horns, levers, and switches on the wall for you to play with. A TV plays an exciting car racing documentary narrated by Dwayne Johnson. Going to the DMV is fun!

2) Thumbs Up and Clapping
As your seat belt buckles and your ride is about to begin, each and every Universal Studios employee on each and every ride in the park enthusiastically gives you the "thumbs up" to signal that life is about to get really fricken great. As your ride comes to an end, the employees eagerly clap for you. You've done it! You've saved the world/brought ET home/killed all the aliens. You are a success story! You feel awesome!

My Proposal
Obviously we need to incorporate the thumbs up-clapping dyad into our working world! I can picture it already: I'm walking little Dreasean to speech therapy. I pass the year 3 Teacher who eagerly gives me a thumbs up. As we walk past the library, the Librarian signals her thumbs up through the window. I can do this! This is going to be great! On the way back from speech therapy, all Teaching Staff line the corridor, clapping enthusiastically for our successful speech therapy session. Brilliant!

3) Adrenaline rush
I must say, I have never free-fallen off of skyscrapers, been rocketed into outer space, been plunged into the ocean, or saved the world so many times in one day. You walk out of Universal studios on an incredible adrenaline rush. Although it really is too much to stimulation to experience in 8 hours, it made me think that I do really need a bit more adrenaline rushing through my veins on a regular basis.

My proposal
Every day at lunch time, find a few coworkers (preferable ones who like you) and participate in a trust fall. You know, you close your eyes and fall backwards and hope that they catch you. This should result in a quick jolt of adrenaline and increase feelings of trust and loyalty with your coworkers (unless they don't catch you, in which case, it's time to find a new job).

4) Costumes are cool
As I wandered around the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, I was surprised to see so many adults donning wizard robes and flicking magic wands with big stupid smiles on their faces. Where and when else will it be appropriate for a grown man to dress like his favourite character from a children's book? I couldn't help but feel a little sad for these adults who spent at least a few hundred bucks for the thrill of dressing like a fictional character for 1 day. What about the other 364 days?

My Proposal
Let's change "Casual Friday" to "Costume Friday. " 'Nuff said.

5) Always stay in Character
When you work at Universal Studios, it is apparent to me that you must remain in character at all times. Whether you are an MIB secret alien agent, a mechanic for the Fast and Furious, or a minion on roller skates, it is vital that you never break character. It really does add to the authenticity of the attraction.

My Proposal
Try remaining in character at work for an entire day! For example, "Today I am the world's best Speech-Language Pathologist, saving the world by remediating one bad /r/ at a time!" I do not make snide remarks to my colleagues about minor annoyances. I do not lose my temper with students who insist on licking my walls. Why? Because I am the world's best and it is my duty to save this world from weally wotten awticulation ewwows.

There. You are welcome.

Cheers!

Joy after Grief

Just over a month ago I felt as though I would never feel true happiness again. My life felt empty without my buddy Monty. I felt his absence every minute of every day and I was struggling to see a bright light at the end of the dark tunnel. So when I woke up this past Monday morning and my face hurt from laughing so much, I initially felt surprised that my mind and body would allow me to feel so much joy when I had just recently felt such great emptiness and sadness. The feeling of surprise was immediately replaced by feelings of guilt. How could I allow myself to laugh, smile, and feel  joy when I had lost someone so important to me?

I suppose grief is complicated. It would seem that I am moving into a new stage. I still feel the loss of Monty every day. I don't look for him at work anymore, but I still feel a heaviness in my chest when I pass by his desk or his parking spot. That loss is even experienced at night when I am dreaming. I find myself wandering aimlessly in my dreams looking for someone - I don't know who, but I know that he's no longer with me, and I wake up feeling heartbroken. That being said, I am finding it easier to focus during the day, especially at work. It surprises me when I can hear myself laughing with my kids and complaining about the trivial things that I didn't even care enough to think about a month ago.

This past weekend we traveled to Little Cayman for our annual dive weekend. This year, our Canada besties, Darren and Allicia Hunter joined us. We've been friends with the Hunters for over 10 years now - everything about them feels familiar and comfortable. We have history. We have taken many vacations together (we even watched Darren break his nose on a blow hole),  and practically lived together for about 5 summers! They are family (but the family that you really like! haha). The last time that I saw them was the day after Monty passed. Allicia held me while I cried, but I was so overcome with grief that I never had the opportunity to say a proper goodbye or to thank them for being such incredible friends.

So when I saw their faces for the first time in over two months last week, contentedly sipping margaritas on the beach, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt joy again! That joy extended for the entire time they were here - 6 consecutive bliss-filled days! Our island besties joined us, and together as a group, seven of us resided in our beautiful rental house on the beach in Little Cayman. We experienced fabulous dives on the renowned Bloody Bay wall, sipped cocktails while floating on inflatable avocados, ate delicious meals together, and even created our own alcohol-infused dance party on the last night of our stay (sorry knees! 😬).

It was just an incredible weekend filled with so much laughter with wonderful friends. I did think about Monty. Instead of feeling sadness and loss; however, I felt a great appreciation for the friends that I had with me. Monty and I had so many good times together and it never once occurred to me that those times would come to an end. I guess now I find myself more grateful for these experiences with my buds. I feel as though I need to soak up my friends with a sponge, and ensure that they know just how much I love and appreciate them. I also feel fearful that someday I will lose them as well.

So...I did allow myself to feel that guilt for a little bit...guilt about moving on, feeling happiness, and laughing without Monty. It's a strange thing to experience 2 opposing feelings at the same time. Then last night I had a vivid dream and Monty was actually there. He even smelled like Monty! We hugged. I told him how much I missed him. He told me that he missed me too. He told me that he missed all of us. He told me that he was really busy and working really hard. We goofed around a bit like we used to do in the office, he laughed his Monty laugh, and then he disappeared. Instead of waking up and feeling heartbroken, my heart felt full and I felt so grateful to have spent some time with my bud again.

I know there isn't a prescribed path to follow when you lose someone who means so much to you, so I guess I will just allow myself to feel what I feel and be Ok with that.

Cheers to good friends and great adventures!

At least I was doing something cool?

Hey Friends,

It's been a rough month. Heading back to work after Monty's death has sucked the big one. The addition of way too many changes at work combined with feeling the loss of Monty every single day has made this one of my most challenging months yet. It's strange. I find myself bracing myself for moments that I know will be difficult - pulling up to my school and not seeing Monty's CRV parked in its spot, heading up to my desk in the office and sitting next to Monty's empty chair, the one with a piece of masking tape on the back with the word "nerd" written on it (I did that about a year ago and he, surprisingly, never took it off!), and heading to Friday happy hour knowing that Monty would not be sauntering in, predictably donning his trusty black t-shirt. Those moments are Ok because I'm prepared. It's the moments that I'm not prepared for that hit me the hardest. One day as I walked my student to my therapy room I thought I heard Monty's voice. I turned quickly and then my heart sank. Of course it wasn't Monty. Monty is gone. I felt such an intense pain in my chest I thought that I would fall over. I hadn't prepared myself for that one. The same thing happens occasionally when I am driving. The thought suddenly pops into my head, "Monty is gone." The hurt is so intense and I find myself bursting into tears.

I saw a grief analogy that explains this phenomenon perfectly. Grief is like a box with a ball inside. On one side inside the box is a pain button. Initially, in the early grieving stages, your ball is massive and takes up the entire box. It just constantly sits on the pain button. As your grief begins to subside, your ball gets smaller. It bounces around the box. It doesn't hit the pain button as often; however, you just never know when it will bounce directly on the pain. When it hits, you have no warning. Makes sense. I just really miss my bud. We leaned on each other when things at work were hard. Work is really hard right now and he's not here to lean on, nor is he here leaning on me. When things sucked at work we used to play "hands slap" to blow off steam (You know...you try to slap the person's hands before they can pull their hands away). What I wouldn't give to play that stupid game again. I'd even let him win. Sigh. It just sucks.

In other news, I apparently tore a ligament and stretched a tendon in my hand. It's ok though. At least I did it doing something cool. One of my frustrations about my stupid cartilage disease is that I never have a good story to back up my injury. Do you know how many times I've wanted to lie and tell someone that I hurt my knee skydiving or whitewater rafting in the Rockies? "I'm on crutches because I have a disease in my cartilage" is so freakin' boring and lame. So although a torn ligament and stretched tendon is not such a serious diagnosis, at least I am able to back up this injury with a decent story.

As I'm sure you know (because I shamelessly bragged all summer), my knees were quite awesome and I was able to get back to one of my favorite sports, wakesurfing. With increased confidence and bravado, simply surfing the wake was not enough, so I began incorporating a few tricks into my surf. One such trick, known as the "fire hydrant," is comprised of placing your right hand on the board in front of you and lifting your right leg out behind you. I actually landed the trick a few times over the summer, so I wasn't too nervous about giving it a whirl during each surf. Unfortunately during my last surf of the summer I lost my balance mid hydrant and jammed my fingers and knuckles into the board as I fell. My hand swelled up and I couldn't close my fingers for a few days, but eventually it subsided and although it still ached, I assumed it would ultimately heal on its own with time.

Cue 9 weeks post "fire hydrant fail." My hand is still swollen and my fingers are stiff. I get shooting pains down my fingers when I try to hold a pen or open a jar. I really didn't want to deal with it until it began to affect my ability to stably grasp my wine glass. At that point I knew it was serious business. Once it interfered with one of the few things that is currently bringing me joy, I knew intervention was necessary. After numerous appointments with my Doc, X-ray, and physio, it has been determined that I suffer from a torn ligament and a stretched tendon. So...physio it is. I'm really good at physio and looking forward to showing off my physio skills to some new poor unsuspecting physio. Hey, at least when she asks, "How did you do this?" I can show her this:

#winning #sorta 

So that's how things are going. There are days when I wonder if I will ever feel true happiness again. I don't want to wake up each day just wishing for it to be over. But then there are days when I hear myself laughing at something one of my kids said, days when I catch myself smiling with a friend, and days where things feel OK-ish. So I guess eventually I will. I need to try harder and choose happiness. I know that...but easier said than done. Unfortunately the reality is that  regardless of how small that ball gets, it will always be bouncing around the box.

stupid ball 

Cheers Friends. Take care.