Avoid stress she says...

I have tried so hard to not be stressed these past few days to see if it would make a remote difference, and have come to the desolate realization that I need an outlet. I used to be a nurse. Taking care of patients was my outlet. Sound odd? How can focusing on someone else who is more stressed than you and helping to relieve their anxiety be a sufficient outlet? You'd be surprised how taking extra special care of someone else's child in pain can dramatically deaden the screaming voice of your own...
Here's what I used to say to the sweet anxious hurting kids that only knew the here and the now....

First you have to get their attention.

Soft spoken: "Can you hear my voice?" A surprised, but still anxious squeak "Yes."
"Look at my eyes..."
(keeping in mind that I made the sweetest eyes twinkle because helping the hurting was my gift, I was good at it. and I don't say that lightly out of pride. it was my God given talent and to waste it all on myself would be selfish. eyes...work past my own pain and twinkle inspite...) Ok, back to the child...




Next: "Focus on the sound of my voice and close your eyes..." No don't squeeze them tight, close them lightly.... "Breathe in.... Breathe out... Breathe with me.... In through your nose..... Out through your mouth.... Slow it down a bit... Gooood....." (eye contact with the parents) Keep doing it...

"Do you like cake?" (what kid doesn't)



"I want you to imagine the biggest cake you have ever seen... Just keep breathing with me... Now, picture all the candles that would fit on that cake... I want you to take a deep breath in..... And blow out ALL those candles! Keep blowing until they are all out... Now think of your pain as those candles and I want you to blow it all away...."

And sometimes we would do this for several minutes until the anxiety was a whisper in the wind and all that was left was sweet precious baby eyes looking at me, wet and glistening with tears. "it hurts.. " they say. "I know" I say (meaning it in all sense of honesty and whole hearted true understanding). "Has the medicine started working yet?" I'd say... And after a big deep cleansing breath, "yes, it's better." was usually the answer. An answer that in some real and deep way took away my own pain.

Believe it or not, as crazy as it sounds, it actually works. Well, for postoperative kids anyway. You see, there's a funny thing about anxiety. It heightens your awareness. Adrenaline pumping, and you become aware of everything. Sounds of parent fighting because you've just had major surgery, sounds of monitors beeping because you are breathing like a mouse on speed... smells of puke because you are so sick from the anesthesia... Well, even left over smells of anesthesia.... Where are you? What day is it? What time is it? Where's my phone (teenagers... hehe) Where's my kitty? That's what Amy would say if it were my own sweet one. Every time your mom touches you it becomes an irritant rather than the beautiful comfort...

And the pain... Oh God, the pain... It screams louder than the surrounding sirens in agony... Anxiety is a monster. Cruel and Selfish, it RIPS away at your peace and comforts... If you confront it, all the rest seems bearable.

It even worked on the frightened, anxious parents. I have peeked out of the corner of my eye and caught them following me, calming, lowering pitches in their voices, breathing easier. Yes, God is with us, Our baby is ok, and we can breathe easier...

Everything is going to be ok. God whispers in the quiet room...."rest now, everything is going to be ok..."