It's an ADD World

Once upon a time, I believed that ADD was caused by a chaotic home environment, that it wasn't something in the brain which wasn't the same as those without ADD. I was raised in a chaotic home environment, and my life has continued to be very busy, in part, because of the ADD. But I have learned it is unlikely that the ADD was CAUSED by how I grew up. While the brain is most definitely the cause of this "situation", the world around us really doesn't help the "situation". There is the weather: global warming brings us 40 degree days with nearly an inch of rain, and the next day, near zero wind chill and blowing snow. The bombardment of information, of new techo challenges which I don't even try to understand or learn, is enough to cause multi-fragmenting of personality if not ability to accomplish even one thing on the to-do list of the day. The mail brings too many subscriptions to even think of reading in a month, and email is a plague even for those of us without professional attachments that surely quadruples the obligation. There is endless need in the world, from the world's most impoverished to the desperate mom who needs cookies for the bake sale. How do we manage?

The only way I've found to survive this heavy leaning on our already busy minds is to push gently back. Even if we don't accomplish much in a day, to keep the blinders on and pointed at those few things which absolutely must be done today. My grandmother (who passed away at 100 five years ago) had one phrase posted on her frig door and the words were, "Do It Now". I think of that so often, and allow it to help drive me to a place of accomplishment on even a small level. Was it Ben Franklin that said "don't put off tomorrow what you can do today"? Whoever it was knew of which they spoke. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed; we only have today. So how will we leave it? And what state of peace will we rest in at the end of the day? Keep the focus, guard yourself in time and energy, and do what you can with what you have.

At the Threshold of Menopause

On December 13th, I will have a hysterectomy. At 25 I had an orange-sized, extremely unusual, but benign tumor removed along with my right ovary. The concern was that it would become cancerous if it was not removed. The surgery was done at Pennsylvania Hospital, the first hospital in the country though I didn't appreciate that fact at the time, and it was eight weeks of the most critical and contemplative recovery, of peacefulness, I've ever known. I was a new social worker, and was quite exhausted from having worked for a year with 18 girls in varying stages of group and foster care. It made me the person I am today, but the surgery and recovery were a welcome time for healing and reflection on my life and what was to come.

After the surgery, I was told that conception might be problematic, but in fact it wasn't. Pregnancy came four times without effort; the first ending on Christmas Eve three days after discovering the pregnancy, and the last a blessed surprise at age 41. The children have been the greatest blessings in my life. It has never seemed fair that conception should be so easy with only one ovary when in fact so many women can't at all with two. In those early days of my social work profession, I imagined adoption of teenagers, knowing so well the tremendous need. But here now 23 years later and at the doorstep of menopause, I still see the crying need, but find those years have taken their toll in energy and focus. Three active, and at times extraordinarily needful, children are all I can manage. There was a time when I would have laughed at that limitation. Age does have it's benefits. Maybe....

And so now as I celebrate the end of hypervigilance in scans and biopsies, keeping guard for more potentially threatening tumors, as I bleed for the last time, it is with a remarkable relief, but also wariness and fear of how the absence of my natural hormones will affect me, and my family. Reflecting on the lifegiving aspects of my body and the very soon loss of them, results in wonderings and wanderings about how I will be a lifegiving force from here on. Life is the must precious form of gift; it sustains all of us. Will life be significantly changed afterwards? Will the physical and emotional symptoms of instant menopause undo me and torture my family? God-willing, no, but I'm ready and waiting....much like pregnancy. And much like this Advent season. Waiting for a new birth into a new world of freedom from worry and pain, the freedom our Christian faith gives us. Perhaps this will be my fifth child, and perhaps I can take this new child into the world with love and celebration.