Saturday, July 25, 2015

I am a highly sensitive person.




HSP … that means Highly Sensitive Person.  (I hope this isn’t  the first time you’ve come across this acronym and I also hope you know what an acronym is.)
I am a highly sensitive person. I have been called highly emotional, intense, a cry-baby. I’ve been described as having a lot of feelings.  I’ve been labeled as emphatic and empathic --- which btw are two different words with totally different meanings.   Emphatic means forceful, assertive, and insistent.  Empathic or empathetic is humane, compassionate, understanding and sympathetic.
You still don’t get it, do you?
Highly sensitive people tend to “over-feel” everything, including the surroundings. I picked up a scent as I walked out of Cinema 6 in Eastwood yesterday, (after watching Ant-Man). I asked my son if he could smell the air freshener or some kind of fragrance, which I thought was coming from the cologne or perfume of the person in front of me.  The scent was  masked by the odors coming from the fast food stalls.  Son had to close his eyes and it took him a while to discern, recognize and identify the sweet smelling fragrance that I had perceived earlier.  Being sensitive runs in our family. My sister, the medical doctor, could smell the tea that I brewed in her kitchen on the ground floor, while she is in her bedroom on the second floor.



I am irritated by loud people. I despise the noise coming from the neighbors’ helpers early morning banter, or those that come from their television set and radio. I am bothered by repetitive chirping of birds on our window sill or the constant hammering coming from the construction site across the street.  I am annoyed by the smell of someone else’s cooking. I am irked by someone, anyone, and anybody who just walked by or is sitting three tables away. This could be quite exhausting for me. So I find myself walking away, turning around, or putting on earplugs, to avoid  these annoying stimuli. 

One comment, one word could trigger a rush of emotions from anger to sadness and back. I cannot help but react, fight back, talk back and express how I have been offended or upset. I have to make some  adjustments to shield myself, lest I be misunderstood and judged. If sensitive people, like me, modify our behavior and try to adapt, then those tough, thick skinned others must also try to accommodate us by keeping sarcastic comments to themselves.
***


Yesterday morning, (after I joyfully shared the photo of my son wearing his white uniform with some friends) I got upset with a colleague’s assessment of his patient’s chief complaint, pain.  His evaluation of the chief complaint as psychogenic in nature is not just ignorant, unintelligent, dimwitted, but plain stupid.  Hubby and I have this private joke about physicians, nurses, therapists. I can now add dentist to this list. These professionals would often say that stress is the cause of the illness when they cannot come up with an intelligent diagnosis of a patient’s medical-dental symptoms/complaints/ illness/pain. 


Pain is real. Otherwise, there won’t be a multi-billion dollar industry for pain relievers, non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs, anti-epileptic drugs and anti-depressants that are now prescribed to patients who suffer from PAIN.   

The word was defensive. That was what my dental colleague/classmate wrote and here I am writing, typing away (for hours) to release the anger, to de-stress and to clear my thoughts.   I said to him, “I’d rather be defensive of all (those who suffer from pain, who are offended and hurt) rather than be offensive like ---!”  




I’ve thought up some ways to deal with highly sensitive persons:

1.  Try to resist having an argument with them, whether it is about politics, religion or just about anything under the sun.

2.  Try to understand them if they take things, most things, all things, personally. You don’t have to tell them or call their attention, they already know.

3.  Try to sympathize if they need space, quiet time, “me” time. It isn’t about you. They just need to breathe, time away from the influx of stimuli that bombard and destroy their sense of peace.

4.  Try to show concern or just let them be when they suddenly seem to pause or stop to think, or when they seem to have lost attention. Just keep quiet for a while. Don’t ask what they’re thinking of. Don’t try to make some small talk, which will actually be senseless to them. They are deep thinkers. You wouldn’t want to look like some idiot to them.

5.  When you do talk to them, don’t talk loud. They hate attention seekers or what is known as KSA’s (kulang sa attention).  They do not want other people to look at them, much more stare at them because of your uncouth, childish, somewhat stupid behavior.

6.  HSP’s love art. They don’t just appreciate art, they make it. They can spend hours painting, a most solitary activity.  Art isn’t for showing off. It heals.

7.  Although, HSP’s love solitary activities like reading, writing, painting, watching movies or 'telenovelas', they do need some companionship once in a while. They love being with their true friends for a buffet lunch, a cup of coffee, a slice of cake, or a couple of drinks, just to catch up on each other’s lives.
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I am lucky to have married a man who totally understands me, allows me to be “me”, never judgmental, never antagonizes or contradicts my decisions. If he doesn’t agree, he tells me gently and softly. He is very supportive and loves me most.  I have an equally great son, who is more like his Dad.  I can be highly sensitive with these two wonderful individuals in my life.
********


May I quote a favorite author. 

“Just for today
I will allow my movement 
To be shaped by my heart
I will not explain or defend
I will not apologize or seek to be understood
Just for today
I will walk softly, speak little, offer what I can
Just for today
I will let being what I am
Be enough”

Monday, July 13, 2015

Life isn't fair....


My Dad is finally home.
Thank you to my dearest doctor friend forever,
Dr. Aimee, for bringing him home.
Not a lot of people would be willing to bring
the cremains of someone else's father.
But my friend was more than willing to do
that for me and my family.
"I owe you big time Aimee."
I don't even know how I could ever
return back the favor.
***
As I was reading my News Feed this evening,
Facebook reminded me of something I wrote 
... exactly three years ago.
I wrote about death.
"Now let me talk about death, my favorite topic. 
Have written this before.... 
" the great equalizer isn't education, it is death"..
 Quite self explanatory ! 
At the end of the day, at the end of our journey, 
you shall leave behind your "greatness".
 I , too, shall leave behind my 'insignificance and smallness'. 
Your bronze coffin and my wooden one 
carry  the same dead remains of a person
 who once was .... .... ..... 
What we have in common is that we have been loved
,not just by one, or a few others ... 
But for you, it's millions.... 
Still that love is the same
 ... the greatest love is , you all know that.
We shall be with Him who loves us unconditionally. 
We are equal in death. God loves us all."
***
As I was watching a koreanovela over the weekend,
the fiance of the lead character was struck by a vehicle,
 which eventually led to his death.
  The voice-over said, 
"The most unfair thing in this world is death." 
 That was when I found myself weeping again.  

I remember telling my son that life isn't fair.
I shall say to him that at the end of our lives,
we will experience the most unfair thing
in life... death.
We may find ourselves equal in death.
... and for those left behind in this unfair life,
we will also grieve as equals.
***
Death leaves this gaping hole in my heart
that never seems to heal. (betsisanders 2015)
 
(Somewhere in El Nido, 2015)
***

Pain is real...


I have fibromyalgia.
Fibromyalgia means “widespread pain in muscles”. Pressing on tender points and getting at least 11 out of the 18 trigger points ( as seen in the diagram below), will confirm if one is afflicted by this dreadful, harrowing and unrelenting condition. I have 18.
But wait … there’s more!!!
See the many trigger points, shown as red dots on the diagram above. That’s how many painful “knots’ I have on my back. Thanks to “dry needling”, “steroid and anesthetic injections”, cold and hot compress, TENS, ultrasound therapy, NSAID’s, massages and understanding physicians (my physiatrists, my orthopedic surgeons and my anesthesiologists), I am able to control my physical pain.
********
I found this photo in Facebook. Funny right? But TRUE! Last week, my hair did hurt. As I was about to comb my hair, the comb barely touched the hair and I felt this tenderness on the right parietal area of my scalp. The size of the painful area is about 1.5 inches in diameter, about the size of a big coin.
So, I googled my symptoms. My search led to this discovery. I had nummular headache or what is known as coin-shaped headache.
“Nummular headaches (coin-shaped headache): are generally of mild to moderate in intensity and confined to a small circumscribed area (side-locked). The pain can be continuous or episodic. Remissions are quite common & during remissions, the affected area may continue to be painful which may be minimal (allodynic, paresthetic, or hyperesthetic). These headaches typically are unilateral & commonly affect the parietal region. Some cases may be associated with underlying malignancies or diabetes mellitus. Treatment with botulinum toxin, gabapentin, or tricyclic antidepressants may be helpful.”
The treatment modalities for this headache are the same as for fibromyalgia. Even the medications (Lyrica, Neurontin and Cymbalta) are what I take for my muscle pain. I also read that this headache could also be treated with surgery if there is an underlying pituitary lesion. (Oh.. I don’t have that!) But I have Diabetes Mellitus since 1989.
Interesting huh!!!
My physiatrist, Docchito reminded me to do all my PT (physical therapy) treatment modalities.
********
I’d do anything to alleviate this physical pain. What I do today will determine what pain I’ll have tomorrow.
Hmmmmm …. gotta go shopping after I paint, read, write, cook and bake. Don’t forget to pray betsisanders!!!
Pain is real. I choose not to be defeated by pain.
*******************************
[Thank you for the pictures from the www that I borrowed and used in this blog post.]