Out of Sight ~ But Not Entirely Out of Mind…
Last week, I made three brand new, utterly different speeches in three days to three diverse audiences in two Canadian provinces. The first in Toronto, Ontario. Then I flew to Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island. And back to Toronto.
As the crow flies, if it flies straight, Charlottetown is 1,315 kilometres or 818 miles east of Toronto. More than two hours by plane.
Quite a trip for one speech ~ in the middle of winter…
Charlottetown is almost as far east as Canada goes. Next stop, Newfoundland. Then you’re in the drink ~ the Atlantic. Yet what a charming, friendly, quaint little city Charlottetown is. I loved being there. Especially the people.
That explains where I’ve been ~ partially…
All this time, I’ve been trying desperately to blog. Trying and failing miserably…
I couldn’t beat my Bloggers’ Block. I wasn’t short of ideas. Bloggers’ Block is no joke. I detested every word that flowed from my fingers. On top of that, I’ve been agonizing over it. Stressing about it. Hating myself for it. There’s so much going on in my mind. Don’t ask me why. But I had a lot of false starts and there are a ton of drafts sitting on my dashboard here at Psych Central.
At the same time, I was teaching, too. This past week was Reading Week. Supposed to be a break. Hah!
I’ve been working hard on my Gut Issues with Dr. Bob, too. Every appointment takes me downtown and somehow I lose a whole day.
Also, I’ve been adjusting to my new Widex Clear 440 hearing aids. Each ear has a different model because I have a very complex hearing loss ~ 70% in my left ear and 20% in my right ear. I have problems with clarity and high frequencies, too.
You wouldn’t believe how wired I am…
I can have three different styles of Zen rhythms playing in my ears ~ Coral, Lavender or Sand ~ and they’re so calming. Better than any tranquilizer. Marty and I are a perfect pair. With his supersensitive, acute hearing, he hears my tinkling all the time. And at 62, I can still read without glasses. So between the two of us, we have all our senses. Now, I feel downright “supersonic.” 🙂
Listen to this. I have now have a tiny Phonak MicroMLxS FM receiver attached to my left hearing aid. With my new ZoomLink+ transmitter, I can hear Marty when he’s on the top floor and I’m in my office on the ground floor of our very vertical townhouse.
My speaking volume has lowered. With all this advanced new hearing aid technology, a sense of peace has settled into our relationship. I’m not straining to hear Marty and getting endlessly frustrated. He’s not constantly misinterpreting my frustration as anger and getting upset with me because I’m so loud. Now, I’m soft.
Back in the human race again…
For the first time in years, I can actually watch and hear television. Even the radio. Though who has time for either? The point is, I can hear.
Best of all, I have Bluetooth in my hearing aids paired with my iPhone. So on Friday afternoon, after I saw my audiologist, I was walking around downtown talking on the phone. You’ll never see any sign of an ear device, though, because mine is hidden deep inside the ear mould of my hearing aid. I keep a tiny remote control on my key chain.
What a difference five and a half years makes when it comes to technology.
Just call me The Bionic Woman…
But mainly, I was thinking about these speeches. Only one was pre-arranged. The other two were very last-minute.
Here’s what happened. You might find it interesting in light of a story in yesterday’s online edition of the New York Times, that was carried front page centre in today’s print edition. It’s a story about which Psych Central’s Founder and CEO John M. Grohol, Psy.D provocatively posted today on his World of Psychology blog.
I started posting about it, too, from an entirely different point of view. That story ran under the headline Talk Doesn’t Pay, So Psychiatry Turns Instead to Drug Therapy. If that headline doesn’t ring some bells and push some buttons, I don’t know what will. It’s part of an ongoing series in the Health ~ Money & Policy section and called Doctors Inc. “examining recent shifts in medical care.” This instalment was called Farewell to the Couch.
More of that, later. Soon. I’ve already written about 1,200 words on it, far too much for one blog post.
I wanted you to know I’m still here…
I wanted you to know where I’ve been. What’s been happening. I’ve been keeping up with all your comments, but I’ve been struggling with actually posting. Maybe I’ll be getting my “bounce back,” as one of you generously, though a little prematurely, suggested a while back.
In my next post, I want to tell you about my adventures on the road and what I’ve learned. You won’t believe it. And I want to share my side of this psychiatry without psychotherapy business.
Most of all, though, you must know I’ve missed you. Terribly. I’ve missed Psych Central. I’m so sorry I’ve been so scattered. So out of focus.
But we’ll speak soon. I have lots of new ideas to share.
Most of all, I want to hear how you’re doing.
Photo Credit – Mary McIntryre
Naiman, S. (2011). Out of Sight ~ But Not Entirely Out of Mind…. Psych Central. Retrieved on October 20, 2017, from https://blogs.psychcentral.com/coming-out-crazy/2011/03/out-of-sight-but-not-entirely-out-of-mind/