Positive Psychology

I've had manic weeks before, but in terms of being buried under work, this week was like having a skyscraper built above me; at 5.30pm, this has been my earliest finish all week - 13 hour days in college aren't exactly fun, especially when one is clearly suffering from some form of insomnia, but it will be rewarding I'm sure at the end of it all. No, I know it will be!

So, I thought I'd put down a bit about something interesting I learned this week from a talk we had from Dr. Ilona Boniwell, a positive psychologist and author of the book Positive Psychology in a Nutshell. You can learn about her by clicking here.

She opened by asking us the following question: "If you were going to see a psychologist in the morning, would you go around and tell your friends and people you knew?"

And then,

"If a friend told you they were going to see a psychologist in the morning would your reaction be: 'oh no, why? What's wrong?'"

Why is psychology still seen as a 'victimology'? Why are our reactions not 'Wow, that's great!'?

The second thing I learned was about mental well being, and this is more something to ponder and think about. If someone goes through a particularly stressful or traumatic event, we always hear about people suffering from post traumatic stress. But has anyone ever experienced post traumatic growth? I think that's such an interesting point of note. How many of us experience such difficult circumstances and have our outlook or perspective changed as a result? I'll put my two hands up to that.

And thirdly, two tasks were suggested for greater happiness and overall mental well being.

Each day, you write down three positive or good things that happened in that day. The first few times, you may find it hard to pick out things, let alone three. But within a few weeks you should find it easier. My own personal reasoning for this is that you have a more positive overall outlook so find it easier to find positive things of note.

And finally, random acts of kindness. Five a day. My friend already did four today. I tried, but most revolved around driving and letting people go ahead of me. It made me feel more relaxed when driving but it's something I have to work on.

Anyway in times of stress, positive psychology provides a light of relaxing relief.

Newsaclle Surgical Frollics

(another food pic....)

I got a phone call this morning. My surgery has been booked. For next week! To be honest, the timing is great. It's just a real shame that I don't really want to have the surgery. I mean, obviously, I do; I want the end product. I just don't want the fasting, the pre-op room, the needle, the going to sleep bit, the pain, the scar. But I suppose fear always pushes the negative to the forefront of the mind. The end result will be worth it. And then I can go around telling people the reason I'm so slim is because I've had my stomach stapled. No Biggest Loser for me!

Then I got other exciting news, but I'll reveal all in due course...

The Curious Case of the Unseen Film

I have tried, unsuccessfully, to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button too many times to count. OK, four times. Twice last night alone. I am destined not to see this film.

And then I remembered, I was actually IN this film, why would I need to see it? See evidence above. The fake tan specialist was fired after the make-up on my face didn't match the tan on my arms.

It's Sunday. I have nothing better to do with my time.

Ehhhhhhhhhck

I know you're looking at the waffle above with the whipped cream, fake fruit stuff, chocolate powder, golden syrup and a lifetime's stock of sugar. But no, look just behind, at the empty bowl which previously contained my cereal for breakfast. Yes, I discovered the waffle making machine after I ate you see. And then I ate my creation. I think therein lies my mental problem which explains the following post:

I had immensely bad heartburn yesterday. Worse than pregnancy heartburn. I don't even know if pregnancy heartburn is bad but this had to be worse. I actually looked about 5 months pregnant for the record. I went to the cinema and saw He's Just Not That Into You, which is quite good, but I silently burped about once a minute (sometimes more) which was very uncomfortable. Have you ever burped once a minute for a good two hours? Don't. Actually I kind of suppressed all the burping which possibly made it uncomfortable.

So last night I slept sitting up as I was afraid of reflux aspiration (a complication I'm at risk of) and woke up this morning looking my skinny self again. Phew! I was wide awake by nine but my body wouldn't let me out of the bed. So basically I read and got up at 2pm. Ha. I honestly think my body was wrecked though.

I'm positive it was all a result of greed. I felt myself getting heartburn early yesterday but ohhhhhhh no, I just had to go eat that packet of Doritos, those two bags of microwave popcorn, allllll those chocolate bars, that share size bag of salted nachos, that bottle of diet coke, as well as my normal meals. And the rest. So yes, it's totally my fault.

To counteract the unproductive morning, I went to college and got assignment work done. And then I went to my first aid class and then I babysat. And I even came here. See, I'm not feeling guilty at all and trying to overcompensate for it. What a silly suggestion.

Clinic...

...went well. Since December there has been a downward trend in my lung function but nothing of huge significance- still 98%. They basically calculate the mean/average of your two personal best results and if your lung function drops more than 10% it is considered significant. I am not considered significant. I feel well and plump so was given three months before having to show my face in those parts again. This is a personal best.

Before I see them again, I hopefully will have been on a sun holiday, will have finished my exams, will have a concrete plan for the summer, my hair will be longer, I will weigh more, my car will be fixed, my stomach will have been stapled, my hearing will have been investigated - I said MY HEARING WILL HAVE BEEN INVESTIGATED - and I will have a six pack. Ok, a four pack.

A lot can happen in three months...

I found this on my computer; a photo I took whilst riding the bus in Scotland. Can anyone spot Wally? (Or Waldo, depending on where you're from)

Hospital Politics

The hospital I attended prior to my transplant has a public building and a private building. I am fortunate in that I have private health insurance which *should* permit me care in the private hospital except that my CF team aren't insured to work in the private hospital, only the public one. So if I were to be admitted for a nasty chest infection, I would only see the drip bag - no physio, no dietitian, no diabetes nurse, no CF nurse, no doctors (except the Consultant I'm assuming) so basically it wasn't allowed.

If the public hospital wasn't so atrocious facility wise (CF patients all sharing rooms except for the two private rooms on the ward, which didn't have en suites) I wouldn't have cared. But c'est la vie.

Anyway, I have to have this surgical procedure done soon and so requested to have it done privately. I don't need to see the CF team so it really shouldn't be a problem. Until it became a problem.

I was told today that they had another CF patient (not transplant as I understand) who got into trouble (I don't know if that's healthwise or because of what happened after), ran up a bill and the bill never got paid. So they don't like CF patients in their private neck of the woods.

Um?

If they had substituted the words 'CF patient' with 'Black patient' they could be in a lot of a trouble.

While they're at it they could probably warn the banks not to issue people with CF credit cards either because they (tarring them all with the one brush here) probably wouldn't pay those bills either.

I still can't decide if I should be offended or not. I think I should be? Anyway, I now wait another two weeks while they try and sort through the tape. But fingers crossed I should be fine!

My Midterm

I'm on mid-term. I get a week off to whatever I like with. We were all warned not to go away, but rather to spend the week stuying....and....something else. As I was browsing Ryanair for cheap deals at the time, I missed the rest of what was said.

As it happens, tomorrow I have an appointment with my consultant who will be performing or overseeing my surgery whenever I get a date. I hope I get a date in March sometime, even if it means missing a few days of college.

On Tuesday I have regular clinic. Apart from waking up with standard cold related sore throat this weekend, I'm still feeling very clear and will be relieved to see my lung function return back up from its *slight* fall the last time.

I've also managed to put on about 6kg/13ish pounds/about a stone since my last admission in November. I was told back then to start drinking those high calorie (600 per drink) drinks. Of course I smiled and said enthusiastically "Oh great, I'll definitely try and fit in one a day" as I skipped off to collect 3 boxes of the stuff. So yes, that lasted two days. To be honest, I much prefer real food. And if ever I need to keep a door open, I have three door stoppers at the ready. Anyway, having not changed my diet in any way since last year, I seem to be piling on the pounds again. I think there is some correlation between the decrease/disappearance in my cough and the putting on of the weight.

We shall see...

More Films

Oh dear, that post which got lost in cyberspace, seems to have been permanently deleted.

It was basically a comment on Slumdog Millionaire (have you seen it yet?) and The Pursuit of Happyness (Have you seen that one yet either?). Both great films; check them out.

I saw Revolutionary Road last night. I would not recommend it. I would nearly say 'Don't go see it' but that wouldn't be fair. And yes I can appreciate the great acting from Leo & Kate but my gosh, talk about a boring film. I kept hoping for it to be over. Possibly only the second time in my life where I have felt that way about a film (the other time was Legally Blonde 2).

Anyway, to get back to the point, the kidnapped and deleted post contained the most crucial paragraph of all - and I post it with just a hint of trepidation (no, in my case, that's not an exaggeration) - but at the moment, I'm feeling really, really great. That chronic cough that shouted to the world anytime I got a shock or whenever I laughed seems to have gone dormant. Or better still, gone away.

I'm still taking Azithromycin every other day (and for me, gosh that gets complicated) but it really seems to be working! Hip, hip.

Boo

OK, so putting aside the blatent ethical issues of putting this video online (I mean come on, a minor, in *this* video, laughing at his expense etc, etc), I had to copy it here. Now there's a good chance you've already seen it (3 million other people have) but the reason I show it is because it mirrors *exactly* how I feel after every procedure I've ever had - be it bronchoscopy or port surgery. Now thankfully in my case I've always - for the most part- been able to keep my thoughts inside my head, and thankfully there's never been a camera around when I've been in these states.

I mean there was that one time where I started reciting my Spanish oral exam to a poor nurse who happened to be Spanish (or was it she visited Spain once, during a stop over flight...?) - gah. Doesn't bare thinking about. Enjoy. Or not. But, learn!

Mid week

Oh gosh, blogger just deleted my post.

And while we're at it, there's a song on the radio at the moment and he says 'He's not heav-yyyyyy, he's my brother....' : I'm almost certain the singer isn't implying that it's ok that his brother is overweight, because at the end of the day, weight isn't important, he's his brother. It sounds too seventies to be that (I don't think obesity existed back then did it?). What a strange song.

Snow Day Intermission

No, I haven't forgotten about the points I wanted to make about Slumdog Millionaire (have you seen it yet?) or The Pursuit of Happyness (have you seen that one either?), but for today, my excuse is that it snowed. And that's a pretty big deal.

I cannot remember the last time it snowed, proper, sticking to the ground snow. It certainly did when I was younger, but it's been a while. Don't be under the impression that this was a snow blanket of Alps proportions or anything but you could definitely see footprints. It was also enough for a few giant snowmen in college that I spotted when I got in. And although beaten and knocked down when I was leaving, there was still enough snow to rebuild their family. It was worse around my house than it was around college, but interestingly I saw an older lady wearing a one piece luminous pink snow suit which was funny considering the snow around there had mostly melted. I suppose she wanted to get value out of her purchase from a couple of decades ago though.

To be honest, the child in me adores the snow, but once I get out into it, I'm unsure of what to do next. It's cold. It's wet. It's just...blah. Plus when it snows, it's just annoying because it's not rain, but rather that kind of 'run-with-head-down-and-eyes-squinting' kind of weather. I do enjoy the novelty of it however, but considering I need to leave the house and I'd never driven in snow until today, well, let's just say I'm ready for spring to be here already!

Intermission part two

I'm exhausted. My eyes hurt. I think I encountered a mild bout of food poisoning or at least food-that-doesn't-agree-with-me-ing yesterday. I bizarrely went babysitting on Friday night (not the bizarre bit), finished at 12.45am and then decided that the night was still young so jumped home, got changed and went out for the night. It seemed like a magnificent idea at the time. It probably explains the sore eyes right now.

But anyway, the Superbowl XLIII is on tonight!! Or...right now!! Exclamation marks!! Pittsburgh -vs- Arizona. My money is on the Steelers. Not because they're winning right now or anything.

I don't think I've talked to so many NFL fans or Superbowl followers (which if I'm honest, would best describe my interest in the sport - but more because I don't want to sit up past midnight every Sunday night to watch the game) as I have this year - it's unreal. SOOOOO many guys I know are watching tonight (not a whole lotta girls but I'll recruit). It's being shown on three channels here, but annoyingly TV3 keeping jumping to freeze-frames every time the Americans take an ad break instead of just showing ads or going to commentary.

Seriously, though. I need my sleep.

*Intermission*

In between dropping into clinic for bloods, following two people into an examination room - both of whom thought the other was holding the door open for me- the door then closing in my face and knocking me back slightly with a *clunk* noise, clearly making me question my foot-door coordination (and my feathery body weight); having the new doctor profusely apologise to me when I managed to enter the room, and then having him drop the empty test bottles on the floor causing them to roll every which way and having him apologise profusely again (in a crazy, mad scientist way/voice, but really, really friendly) and then having him get my blood first time, I'm rather tired.

Only joking, I did manage to accomplish slightly more than that with my day (actually a LOT more than that) and I blame that for my tiredness. Plus it's 11pm so that's a natural 'I'm tired' time. I have enough excuses, OK?!

Oh also, this is my 601st post. Seems I have an uncanny ability to type when I have absolutely zilcho to talk about - it reflects real life really...

To Begin...

It isn't going to 'all about me' (geddit??) as it usually is. My health is, in general, good. I have a constant cough and I'm still productive and I fear I've fallen into the hole that is 'acceptance', a hole which is a dangerous one to be in. This cough isn't right. But I'm putting on weight, it's not stopping me so why bother bothering about it? But that's all for another day... I'll mention it when in for bloods tomorrow, so we'll see. The brake pedal isn't working on my life right now and so I continue to spin into insanely busy days! Bazza....

A while ago a topic about being labelled 'inspirational' came up on a message board I lurk on. Some people found this label annoying and some, bizarrely, found the term offensive. I would never, ever see myself as inspirational or inspiring in any way, shape or form and if someone were to claim I was then I'd kindly ask them to put their glasses back on. But aside from the arguing of what, who, where, how a person/place/thing is inspirational, I think this has far less to do with that person and what they do, and more to do with the person who takes inspiration from that person/place/thing. Does that makes sense? I think not. Let me put it this way:

Suppose you are someone who clumsily tripped on a banana skin and twisted your ankle, ending you up on crutches. Not that that has happened to anyone I know but, anyway. Every day you take your elderly neighbour lunch. Today is no exception, except you have to do it while on crutches. A horrible nuisance.

Now view it from a bystander who sees a crippled person (is that PC?) on crutches slowly make their way to a neighbour's house, carrying with them lunch for the elderly neighbour. To them, they see this as a 'wow, look what that person has to do and here I am, perfectly able, and perfectly lazy'. They see you and are inspired to do something good.

And yet, you're just simply getting on with what you usually do, albeit slowed down, ultimately due to your clumsiness.

Not exactly getting my point across here very well, but what I'm saying is a person doesn't have to scale mountains, run around the world in 30 days, survive 18,092 diseases with no arms and no legs and then go on to enter and win a triathlon (I don't know why all my examples involve sport...) to be viewed as inspiring because fundamentally it's not about what they do but rather how people perceive them.

And so brings me to the next three things I've seen recently: 1. Slumdog Millionaire.
2. Auschwitz: The Man Who Told the World
3. The Pursuit of Happyness.

Now if I hadn't rambled, I'd be able to say what I wanted to say in the first paragraph but for now I have to go to bed. So I'll say in fancy italics, followed by three tantalising fullstops....To be Continued...

Unoffical Interview Debrief

Following an job interview I had on Saturday:

"If I was going to give you a debrief, the one thing I'd say is that, I know myself that I talk fast but good grief, you talk incredibly fast"

What can I say? I have a lot of things to say and just not enough time to say them all!

New Beginnings

We finish class at about 12.50 every Tuesday and so the day became known as 'Cinema Tuesday'. We'd head down to the cinema, get cheapo prices and see a good film. Today was no different, except that I had to go watch Barack Obama's inauguration at 4.30. And yes, I had to go.

When I told my friends the reason for my absence, they mostly stared at me in silence, and a tumbleweed floated by. I apologised but told them I had to watch it, because I had to watch it. One half of my friends really haven't much interest in politics of any description which is fair enough, I have very little interest in football - each to their own.

So I was driving over to my friends house to watch the ceremony and was running a little late when I got a text from one of the cinema Tuesday groupies saying "We don't like giving presentations, imagine speaking in front of that amount of people". I was highly confused not knowing what he was on about and then I clicked, he must be watching Obama.

And that's a pretty incredible thing- someone who has zero interest in politics was swept up and became interested enough to take a peek at this momentous occasion.

And that's just the beginning...

Another Aspect

Amongst other things, I'm an accomplished belly dancer. I don't have a certificate that proves that, but it's true. I've never applied for any jobs as a belly dancer, and really, I don't know why. But I'm a bendy person- my arms bend too far, if I weren't so against gymnastics, I'd be able to do the crab with ease, but alas at nearly 5"4, I'm a bit of a bean pole to people in that world.

So anyway, back to the belly dancing. I can belly dance at the drop of a hat, except on rare occasions such as today, where the only thing it looks like I'll be dropping is a baby. **Let's make it perfectly clear I'm not planning on dropping a baby, but I wouldn't look out of place shopping in Mothercare judging my appearance**

It's shocking really. And it's uncomfortable. The only way to describe it is if you ate a massive lunch which gets no further than your stomach. You're still hungry for food at dinner but your head tells you that there's nowhere for meal two to go. But you have to eat! So you do.

I knocked back some anti-acid, some creon (for digestion) and some motillium (to speed up the bloatiness). My baby look has decreased somewhat, but I reckon I'd still get (a) dirty looks from older ladies and/or (b) a seat offered to me on the bus.

These problems are very common to people with CF, I'm just (thankfully) not much of a 'digestion' girl so this is a bit of a rare occurrence. I'm actually not allowed see my CF team anymore, which seems a bit hard to believe- I still have CF right? Digestive issues related to CF aren't the speciality of a lung transplant team after all. As it happens, I actually went and saw my old CF team last year anyway, slightly behind the backs of my transplant team (who said i shouldn't go - hi to any of my transplant team who may be reading this by the way- now you know how I know that my vitamin levels good enough that I don't need to take vitamins ;-) ), but it frustrates me that I have to do it in such a way.

I may point out that I'm very fond of the transplant clinic staff who look after me and who always accommodate me whenever I ring up and feel like giving them riddles to solve, but whether it's a control thing, politics or what...it frustrates me that teams can't all sing off the same hymn sheet.

Manic

As I think I mentioned before, this past week has been totally and utterly mental. Starting this week however, I will get Wednesdays off. I will therefore, from now on, view these as my sleep in until stupid o'clock study days.

I still managed to find time to go out both nights this weekend which was great. Although on Friday, having eaten a whole pizza, two kit-kats and 3/4 tub of ice-cream, I seemed to develop a head cold over the space of a few hours. Just very sinus-ey and sneezy. But I don't know if that could be from the ice-cream- the dairy causing me problems. I mean I've never had a cold develop over the course of about two hours like that, but I suppose it can happen!...can't it?

But there's about two weeks or so left of January and then I can offically say I've had a good start to the year :)

I have a very, very long list of people to call this week ranging from the insurance companies to booking my surgery (again) to former employers. So it will be slightly less manic but mental all the same. With a Wedensday off to break up the week :)

Upsee-Datey

Pre-warning: This blog is about nothing.

I got my flu jab. Apparently I'm the only one who calls them 'jabs'. I was told that next year I should get it in October and not leave it so late. Which is a fair point. In my case, this has been the first opportunity to receive it as you have to be well or....something. And every time I asked I was told to wait. Which is a fair point too.

So it's Thursday already and I've got a list the length of my arm of things I have to do. I feel accomplished a lot this week and yet still feel there's a mountain to climb with getting on top of everything.

I have my full, 9-6pm day tomorrow, followed by babysitting. I have a job interview of sorts next weekend so I will be spending the time leading up to that organising/getting that dreaded medical, a background check...gulp - I'm praying I don't do something awful with my car between now and then, or insult a policeman...and going over application forms, smiling for passport pictures and hunting down my references. It's quite a fun process really. I just hope something comes out of it all.

Oh actually, something already has- I signed up for my 10 week first aid course! I think everyone should have some sort of basic training anyway and we had a few sessions in school but I've never been certified with anything. And I was in school a million years ago. But because I want it to look good on my CV and application forms to (be able to) save lives, it if nothing comes from any of my plans for the summer, I'll be a bit more educated on how to give the kiss of life!

Falling through the gap...

I finished school in 2005, which makes me feel rather old, because it's my ten year primary school reunion this year. Well the reunion that has yet to be organised and nobody will probably organise it except that I've dropped LOADS of clever hints to primary school people I'm still friendly/in touch with. You know like 'Oh so have you heard anything more about this reunion yet? I heard it's in "name of pub"', that way it sounds like someone has been organising something but secretly nobody has. It's kind of like me passing the buck, except I never had the buck to begin with. I don't want the buck!

Anyway, all that aside, I'm getting old. Well, not old as such, but not any younger. Except that I look so freakishly young, that I'm able to pass as a 16 year old still. But that's not the point either. So I graduated school in 2005 and along with all my friends started college into either 3 or 4 year degree courses. Except about two months in, I took a detour to hospital and skip the long story which has been told a Brazillion times before, I ended up restarting college two years later.

My best friends are ones I went to school with and our group has, so far, survived the leaving school goodbye and we keep in touch really well. But those friends all went and did the travelling things at all the proper stages. The year I had my transplant, some of them went interrailing. The year I was recovering and not allowed back to college, half went to live in America for the summer, and the others went travelling through Asia. Then last year I got to do interrailing with the girls who hadn't been before and it was definitely fun. But it also marked the end of the student travelling and having fun life as most of them knew it.

My two best friends are working (in a proper grown up job) and studying for a Masters (hello!!! Yikes). My other...'options as travel buddies' (it's easier then going through how I know each person specifically) are also either Master studying or working or on placement.

My friends who I'm in college with are all working through the summer to earn money, which I totally respect them for I might add.

But it kind of means I have fallen through the gap. The girls are past the stage of travelling and road tripping and the next stage for them (possibly in a year or two) will be Australia. And then they will be proper, officially, scarily grown up. The college group aren't (this year, anyway) organised enough to go travelling.

So where does that leave me? Well I did a lot of research and thinking and researching and thinking and discussing and option analysing and I found what would be a great solution. As long as I can pass a friggin' medical. Me. A medical.

Excuse me while I get sick from laughing.

Actually, laughing aside, I'm pretty sure I would do great in a physical medical - my heart/blood pressure/pulse are definitely all perfect. My sight is pretty perfect too, I'm not even colourblind (I hope everyone loves my new red font by the way)! BUT, if medical history counts for anything, well...the problem may be that the doctor runs out of ink before he's finished writing it all down so thus the medical will be deemed incomplete.

But we'll have to see. It's not like I'm trying out for the army or anything. The mystery will be revealed if I don't pass out while they try to get blood from me during my medical anyway. But, I guess what I'm trying to say is that if we sit around waiting for the ideal time to come our way and for it to present us with the ideal opportunity on a plate then we could be waiting for a while. And that in my case anyway, life is about seeking out and stepping outside the comfort zone if you want to see what life can really offer you.