It’s a Beautiful Day for Disaster to Strike

Better Get Busy Bracing Yourself

“I don’t like it,” he said. His hand passed over his chin pensively. “Things are too calm,” he added. His stud earring caught my eye. The moment felt surreal.

Here I was, a student nurse, and this hipster doctor was having an honest-to-goodness-conversation with me. My ego really like that.

My heart pinged with concern, however. We were discussing the patient in my care. He was a little guy who, if memory serves me correctly, was about 9 years old.

We were discussing his latest lab results and the doctor’s concerns puzzled me. The results were all “WNL”–within normal limits.

My optimism crumpled up like a sheet of paper and this doc just did a three-pointer into the waste-paper basket with it.

It feels like the calm before the storm; the doctor added.

Well, aren’t you the Debbie, er, Doctor Downer?

But my heart recognized the sobering truth. This kid was sick. Really sick.

There was a sign in his bathroom that read something like, “caution-flush toilet three times.” Tony Orlando and Dawn started singing in my head. “Flush three times on the toilet if you want me, twice on the wall….”

STOP IT, THERESA.

But flush three times was a must given the toxicity of the chemo he was receiving for an aggressive kidney tumor that landed him in the hospital. Yeah, that shit could eat through the porcelain and pipes.

The unfairness of it all. I knew during my pediatric rotation there was no way I could be a peds nurse.

A few weeks later, I had rotated to another floor when the news came back to me.

The doctor was right. I had witnessed the calm before the storm; the boy died.

I’ve thought about this child over the years. He would be in his forties now if he had survived. Did his parent’s marriage survive the loss of their child? Statistically speaking, there’s a high likelihood it didn’t. I can only imagine the pain of losing a child in such a protracted, painful way.

And of course, I hearkened back to him when I got my cancer diagnosis last year. I recalled him when the time came for me to flush three times after chemo. Shut the hell up, Tony Orlando, would you?

I consider that experience with the little boy as part of the reason why, when things are going well, I have trouble sinking into the goodness of the moment. Instead, things can be going swimmingly, as Gramma R would say, but yet I will find a reason to be wracked with worry and anxiety.

Tell me about the gorgeous weather today and I can point out the cloud on the horizon. Truly a harbinger of a catastrophic storm.

Instead of enjoying the day, I’m taking inventory of the pantry to make sure there’s enough supplies for the impending apocalypse. Or at least for a few days. Phew, there’s plenty of coffee and evaporated milk makes for an adequate replacement for half and half. Because you know, when the power goes out, my cream supply will be threatened…

Then there’s the girl scout training: Always be prepared. In Theresa parlance that reads: Ever be at DEFCON 1. That’s maximum vigilance, people. There is a threat out there! Where “there” is, I do not know.

All the more reason for vigilance, right?

My poor nervous system. Is it any wonder I developed fibromyalgia, depression, and anxiety over the years?

Brené Brown, the esteemed researcher who has studied shame and other human emotions, tells us the hardest emotion for us to handle is… wait for it… wait for it… is…

JOY.

Yep, Joy. She describes looking in on your sleeping child, feeling awash in gratitude and love. And then the music switches to a minor, foreboding key.

My god, is he still breathing?

How the hell do you uncouple yourself from these dark tendencies?

I really came face to face with this during breast cancer treatment last year. Even though the doctors said things like “this is just a bump in the road” and “good prognosis” “congratulations, you are now a survivor,” it is the smallish chance of reoccurrence that I fixate on.

10% chance without hormone blockers. 5% chance with hormone blocker. (And btw, I am happy to report that this third one I am on is playing nice-nice with my body. Minimal side effects, a far cry from the first two I tried.)

That’s a helluva better prognosis than that little boy had.

Now, I wish this was the part of the article where I tell you something click-baity like, Here’s the Five Ways I Beat Anxiety-You Won’t BELIEVE Number Three!

Gosh wouldn’t that be nice?

But there is no quick and dirty way to pummel anxiety into the outer darkness. It is part of our humanity. Where there is light, there is shadow. And we, beloved, are all beings of light.

This is what I am learning.

First, recognizing the feelings. Much of my Christian training wasn’t big on feeling feelings. Oh, it was never blatantly taught that way. It was cloaked in Bible verses and shaky theology that dripped with shame for feelings outside the realm of The Joy of the Lord is my Strength.

(Great, now I have that stoopid song running through my head.)

Feelings aren’t good or bad. They are feelings. They are a feedback system. Guy lurking in an alley may trigger fear. Watching a happy child playing in a sprinkler brings joy.

But yet we are trained to suppress those emotions we deem “bad.” And it’s easy to see why. Who likes feeling sad or scared?

But there is no amount of denial, la-la-LA-I can’t HEAR you, that will make those feelings go away until they are recognized and listened too.

Willpower can’t do it either. Or toxic positivity. I’m going to thank God for my cancer. Uh, yeah… stuff it.

This is not about conquering your will. Or slapping on a happy face when you’re reeling from an emotional kick to the head with a frozen boot. Especially if you have a history of trauma like I’ve had.

You got to feel it to heal it, a wise person once said.

And then, copious amounts of self-compassion and love. It’s an opportunity to re-parent yourself. To soothe the frightened child.

And most astonishingly, to take back your power and autonomy. To acknowledge the fear but to disarm its paralyzing power.

It’s a paradox: Embrace the fear to soothe the fear. Who wudda thunk?

I love learning new tools to help me navigate when terror seizes my heart, but none are as effective a starting point as simply acknowledging the fear and then soothing it.

THEN I can proceed with a clear head, not a frightened lizard brain.

When there is calm, I am learning to embrace it and not allow terrible imaginings to take over the moment.

The bonus is the emotional strength that is refilled in those moments of calm and happiness because just as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow, there WILL be more trials and tribulations. It’s the nature of life.

But when we’re not whacked out with worry, we can trust ourselves to have the strength to navigate through those tough times when they happen. A

What about you? How do you handle fear when you are feeling overwhelmed by its power? Drop a comment!

And thanks for reading!

Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at www.theresawinn.com, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram. If you’d like to support my writing in a small way, feel free to contribute to my wishlist.