Before I get into today’s Pet Peeve, I want to share an update from my September 1, 2010, blog post, Zoë Bears All: ADHD, Self-coaching, Dreams. In it I mentioned a dream that I’d had where there were lots of bears pursuing me. I also talked about using synchronicities (meaningful coincidences) as part of your Self-Coaching program.

Well, check this out: yesterday a baby Bear Cub wandered onto a children’s playground in the CITY where I live. This is a rare, perhaps unprecedented, event. Later that day, mama bear came thundering in looking for her babe. Go figure. If you don’t believe me, check out this article from our local daily newspaper: Cub caught, mama sought

All together now, can you say, “doo-doo doo-doo, doo-doo doo-doo”?

If I haven’t spooked you already, dear reader, read on for today’s Pet Peeve: ADHD and Death.

Getting a handle on my ADHD life

Today’s Pet Peeve is that finally, after receiving my ADHD diagnosis, I feel like I’ve just begun to get a handle on this life thing. I haven’t even hit my stride yet, and yesterday, I got a medical scare.

In the morning I had my physical. I don’t know what you call it in the States, but a “physical” in Canada refers to an annual medical exam, basically just maintenance, you know – change the oil, check the tires, replace the filters, etc.

A sun-worshiper gets fried…

I only had one concern to discuss with my nurse practitioner. I’d been watching, in alarm, these weird dark patches grow on my face throughout the summer. For the last five years, I’ve been aware of the increased media attention to the dangers of being exposed to sunshine as a child.

Guess who spent every summer of her life lazing by the community pool? And who was left in the sun at age two, to burn to a crisp? And who, at age 17, fell asleep lying on her tummy in the shade, by a Florida pool during a high school trip, resulting in second-degree burns? Not to mention being a lifeguard, from the age of 15, through her first university degree at age 21. You got it. Me.

In short, hearing these latest news reports on the increased risks of sun exposure, I knew I was f*cked.

Weird science

Needless to say, it was with both horror and relief that I listened to my nurse practitioner agree that yes, these are not normal age spots, these would have to be burned off.

If you’ve ever had someone approach you with a steaming Styrofoam cup in one hand, and a swab in the other, you know it’s not something you look forward to. I told her she looked like Gene Wilder in Young Frankenstein.

Vanity, be damned!

I agreed to the treatment immediately because, I thought, the only thing that would look worse than the brownish-red blisters I’d have on my face afterwards, would be skin cancer.

Or decomposition.

I bore the sizzle of my own flesh, (it was on my face, remember? …So the sound was right beside my ears, making me feel like I’d been thrown, whole, on a bar-b-que spit) with relative bravery. (Except for the occasional, “How much longer do you have to hold it there?!”)

Self-pity and a great road trip!

As soon as I got in my car to drive home, I broke down and cried. Drama Queen that I am, I was scared. Besides, it did hurt. A lot.

After a while of histrionically ruminating over my own demise, I began to look out the windows and enjoy the beautiful early fall scenery in rural Ontario. Suddenly, I caught myself, and realized that I’d completely forgotten about what had just happened at the clinic. I got distracted.

The self-analyst never sleeps…

It made me wonder: what will my ADHD death be like?  We’ve spent so much time in this blog exploring our ADHD lives; suddenly I realized, I’ll still have ADHD during my death process, too. And so will you.  Hmmmm…

Will my final confession be, “I was right all along. YOU GUYS (non-ADHDers) are idiots!” (Some of us do get pretty cranky when we’re old, right?)

Death Coach for hire!

Will we have to fire our Life Coaches, and hire a Death Coach instead? After all, death and estate planning aren’t easy for anyone, what about us ADHDers?

A Death Coach would be handy for helping me to write up a Power of Attorney, for one thing. They could also assist in strategizing around what to include in my Living Will. For example, we’d have to designate someone to trick my ADHD friends and relatives by calling them a day or two before my actual expiration date (“Get here, fast!”). Otherwise, they’d miss the chance to say their last goodbyes. Obviously, if not called early, they’d either arrive late, or get lost on the way to my deathbed.

Accommodations in the Afterlife

Which makes me wonder: will I get lost on the way to the Afterlife? Will my impulsive blurting piss off St. Peter at the Pearly Gates, getting me kicked out before I even get in? And as a result, will I have to go to Hell and endure more of what caused my demise in the first place? I mean, I’m pretty sure the ‘ol Ozone is non-existent down there, right? And sunscreen? As my friend Jeff would say, “Fuggedaboutit!”  If I DO manage to get in to Heaven, will there be special accommodations for me? Some kind of pension or compensation for living my whole life with ADHD? (And can I cash in on it NOW?)

Now, what was it I was supposed to be doing in this hospital bed?  Oh ya…

I wonder if my ADHD death will be easier than that of a non-ADHDer. For example, will I get distracted and forget I’m going to die?

Will I procrastinate and malinger for months, long after everyone expected me to go?

Will the dying meds interfere with my ADHD meds? And if so, will I have a pleasant or unpleasant drug trip as a result?

And, just as our brains are different in the way that stimulants affect us,  if we get dementia, will that make us more normal? So many questions…

One last ADHD fling!

At the end, will we ADHDers decide – to hell with it – and go off our meds altogether? Will we give in to our ADHD symptoms for one last, full-blown, ADHD fling? I can just see it now: all us hyperactive ADHDers will be jumping in the ambulance driver’s seat when the EMS guy turns his back, we’ll race down the highway at breakneck speed, sirens blaring, yelling, “Woo-hoo! This is great!”  Hell, death may be the time of my life! I imagine it will be the one time that I won’t have to bother worrying about my ADHD symptoms, I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?

Exactly.

P.S. – for those of you who care, I’m pretty sure that it’s highly likely that I will survive to torment you with my blog posts for some time to come. If it’s more dire, I’ll let you know. Maybe, together, we can plan a helluva wake! But of course, we’ll have to hire a Wake-organizer, caterer, etc., because – God love us – we won’t be able to pull it off on our own. I see a new market opening up already…

Comments

This post currently has 15 comments/trackbacks. You can read the comments or leave your own thoughts on our new comments page.

Trackbacks

No trackbacks yet to this post.

    Last reviewed: 16 Sep 2010