12/5/06 - Weddings and Cold Weather
This weekend was interesting. It involved me switching between patient and therapist and back again throughout the entire weekend. I guess you could call that interesting. This weekend friends of mine got married, finally! It was a bit of a long engagement and everyone was very happy to see them tie the knot. Now me at a wedding is sort of amusing. Between my past medical issues and my present lets run down the list of things I cant do. No drinking, no fatty foods, no dancing (walking is a monumental achievement at this point). So what can I do? Well I found out, sit there and be a target for people who are getting progressively drunker to tell me al about there lives from DNA right up until that evening. And its only a matter of time before the questions as to why I cant drink or dance or eat what's on the table start to mount.
I usually start off telling people amusing stories like, "my parole officer is somewhere in the crowd and one drink I'm goin back." But after a few times of sending strangers walking away shaking their heads, you eventually wind up having some well meaning buddy tell someone the truth and the lot of them come staggering back to gush. And normally this is the extent of it, a few moments of abject pity and they stumble away because the DJ has decided to grace us with 'the chicken dance.' But this wedding was different, there were three civilian WTC survivors in attendance. And while our charity targets those who are physically ill from this event - so much of my time is spent listening to and helping to categorize symptoms and make suggestions as to which physicians to see and which to avoid. But these people were physically healthy but emotionally banged up.
Now as you can see by my categorizing these poor folks emotional state as 'banged up' that these things are above my paygrade. I accept that, I feel that someone's emotional problems should probably not be dealt with by an untrained individual, but this, apparently, is where the thinking of myself and these 3 went their separate ways. They wanted help understanding why the whole horrific event happened and they wanted me to tell them. WoW. If they only knew who they were asking, they would seriously think about joining me in never drinking again.
The three were divided into groups in several ways. Two were female, one was male. Two were inside the buildings and had to get out (with first responder help as it turned out) while one was outside walking with her small child. All of them admitted very soon into the conversations that their lives were an absolute mess because of this and NONE of them had been to any therapy to alleviate what they were going through. I don't want to make you think that we took over a table and held a small 'group session', however for the time it took overall that may have been a better idea - no, they somehow managed to stagger themselves into 30-45 minute informal 'chats'.
All of them led off so kind, "I'm sorry that your sick because of the WTC, you know of it wasn't for someone like you I wouldn't have gotten out of those buildings, but ever since that day I've always wanted to know......" And so it began. The questions were a clever way of 'lets say what were thinking or feeling and see if this is normal.' I've never played this game before, and I'm not wanting to play again. However I walked away from this event knowing several things that I didn't know before, or knowing for sure things I only suspected before. As the evening wound down the bride and groom expressed how glad they were that I had come, I wonder how happy they will be when they get my bill.
What I learned was this, for civilians, there is no point of reference for what they went through and saw that day. It was cruel and unusual punishment to subject these people to that kind of emotional stress. For people like me, there was a career of smaller tragedies that we had to go through to get to that day. Even for the rookies and probies, the academy had hopefully insinuated that stuff like this happens. But the civilians, the people working in these buildings or walking by in the street - PTSD is as foreign to them as Attic Greek is to me. These people lives, as it stands now, are ruined. The second thing I learned is that therapy is very necessary and for the civilians should be mandated.
Now, I'm not a proponent of therapy by any means. I gag at how most Americans run to their therapist to figure out whom to blame for their shitty lives. Is it gonna be Mom's fault today or shall we break out old drunk uncle Al, who once looked at me kinda funny at that pool party? In the immortal words of Tony Soprano, "what ever happened to Gary Cooper, the strong silent type? Ill tell ya, they knew that if they ever got him to be in touch with his feelings - theyda never been able to shut him up!" Ahhh that's deluxe. Now - with that being said, I've been through therapy in regards to this awful day. I'm not ashamed to admit this, there were times, usually anniversaries, when I felt that I needed to speak with someone (someone Id never see again) about the wild things that were going thru my head. And it helped greatly, for I believe one major reason. I needed to hear from someone that the wild, disturbing thoughts I was having were the same thoughts that everyone else was having. Now when I heard someone tell me this, I was relieved, but maintained a degree of skepticism that this is part of the handbook answer - but sitting down and talking to these three people, its right on the money.
Three people, 2 genders, 2 ethnicities - as a matter of fact very little in common at all besides their position on the globe 5+ years ago. All with the exact same feelings and thoughts. It should have been a group session, I think they would have gotten more out of each other than they did from me. One would sit down and ease the conversation towards that day and the effects, vent and leave with some words of comfort from me that I'm sure were useless. A moment later another would sit down and the same thing would happen, besides the huge feeling of deja vu I wanted to say, "hey, see that guy over there? He was there that day and he just told me the same thing!" But that would be bad (who knows I may want to take up therapy at weddings as a side occupation so Id better develop good habits now). It was after the third and final one left that I realized that the people that I had spoken to weren't 'talking out their ass'. It really was the truth, people exposed to similar traumatic events go through similar processes and think and feel the same things.
So I left that event with an overwhelming feeling of sorrow for what the civilians involved with that day. I would like to tell all of them to seek out someone professional and speak with them about what your thinking and feeling. It was not normal to go through what you had to, you were never trained for that. Talking to a professional can help. And as I walked outside I then realized something else about that night and, more than likely, many days and nights to come - the cold weather really messes up my lungs. This is unfortunate as well, you see - I've never been fond of the temperature extremes we have in NYC, but if pressed to pick one over the other, cold always won out. Its simple really, by my logic - you can always put on more clothes, you can only take so much off. But walking outside that night was really the first blast of cold for the season and it hurt. My lungs felt like they were on fire with every breath I took in. So it looks like cold is going to be a problem for me - and the bad news is, it has only just begun.
I usually start off telling people amusing stories like, "my parole officer is somewhere in the crowd and one drink I'm goin back." But after a few times of sending strangers walking away shaking their heads, you eventually wind up having some well meaning buddy tell someone the truth and the lot of them come staggering back to gush. And normally this is the extent of it, a few moments of abject pity and they stumble away because the DJ has decided to grace us with 'the chicken dance.' But this wedding was different, there were three civilian WTC survivors in attendance. And while our charity targets those who are physically ill from this event - so much of my time is spent listening to and helping to categorize symptoms and make suggestions as to which physicians to see and which to avoid. But these people were physically healthy but emotionally banged up.
Now as you can see by my categorizing these poor folks emotional state as 'banged up' that these things are above my paygrade. I accept that, I feel that someone's emotional problems should probably not be dealt with by an untrained individual, but this, apparently, is where the thinking of myself and these 3 went their separate ways. They wanted help understanding why the whole horrific event happened and they wanted me to tell them. WoW. If they only knew who they were asking, they would seriously think about joining me in never drinking again.
The three were divided into groups in several ways. Two were female, one was male. Two were inside the buildings and had to get out (with first responder help as it turned out) while one was outside walking with her small child. All of them admitted very soon into the conversations that their lives were an absolute mess because of this and NONE of them had been to any therapy to alleviate what they were going through. I don't want to make you think that we took over a table and held a small 'group session', however for the time it took overall that may have been a better idea - no, they somehow managed to stagger themselves into 30-45 minute informal 'chats'.
All of them led off so kind, "I'm sorry that your sick because of the WTC, you know of it wasn't for someone like you I wouldn't have gotten out of those buildings, but ever since that day I've always wanted to know......" And so it began. The questions were a clever way of 'lets say what were thinking or feeling and see if this is normal.' I've never played this game before, and I'm not wanting to play again. However I walked away from this event knowing several things that I didn't know before, or knowing for sure things I only suspected before. As the evening wound down the bride and groom expressed how glad they were that I had come, I wonder how happy they will be when they get my bill.
What I learned was this, for civilians, there is no point of reference for what they went through and saw that day. It was cruel and unusual punishment to subject these people to that kind of emotional stress. For people like me, there was a career of smaller tragedies that we had to go through to get to that day. Even for the rookies and probies, the academy had hopefully insinuated that stuff like this happens. But the civilians, the people working in these buildings or walking by in the street - PTSD is as foreign to them as Attic Greek is to me. These people lives, as it stands now, are ruined. The second thing I learned is that therapy is very necessary and for the civilians should be mandated.
Now, I'm not a proponent of therapy by any means. I gag at how most Americans run to their therapist to figure out whom to blame for their shitty lives. Is it gonna be Mom's fault today or shall we break out old drunk uncle Al, who once looked at me kinda funny at that pool party? In the immortal words of Tony Soprano, "what ever happened to Gary Cooper, the strong silent type? Ill tell ya, they knew that if they ever got him to be in touch with his feelings - theyda never been able to shut him up!" Ahhh that's deluxe. Now - with that being said, I've been through therapy in regards to this awful day. I'm not ashamed to admit this, there were times, usually anniversaries, when I felt that I needed to speak with someone (someone Id never see again) about the wild things that were going thru my head. And it helped greatly, for I believe one major reason. I needed to hear from someone that the wild, disturbing thoughts I was having were the same thoughts that everyone else was having. Now when I heard someone tell me this, I was relieved, but maintained a degree of skepticism that this is part of the handbook answer - but sitting down and talking to these three people, its right on the money.
Three people, 2 genders, 2 ethnicities - as a matter of fact very little in common at all besides their position on the globe 5+ years ago. All with the exact same feelings and thoughts. It should have been a group session, I think they would have gotten more out of each other than they did from me. One would sit down and ease the conversation towards that day and the effects, vent and leave with some words of comfort from me that I'm sure were useless. A moment later another would sit down and the same thing would happen, besides the huge feeling of deja vu I wanted to say, "hey, see that guy over there? He was there that day and he just told me the same thing!" But that would be bad (who knows I may want to take up therapy at weddings as a side occupation so Id better develop good habits now). It was after the third and final one left that I realized that the people that I had spoken to weren't 'talking out their ass'. It really was the truth, people exposed to similar traumatic events go through similar processes and think and feel the same things.
So I left that event with an overwhelming feeling of sorrow for what the civilians involved with that day. I would like to tell all of them to seek out someone professional and speak with them about what your thinking and feeling. It was not normal to go through what you had to, you were never trained for that. Talking to a professional can help. And as I walked outside I then realized something else about that night and, more than likely, many days and nights to come - the cold weather really messes up my lungs. This is unfortunate as well, you see - I've never been fond of the temperature extremes we have in NYC, but if pressed to pick one over the other, cold always won out. Its simple really, by my logic - you can always put on more clothes, you can only take so much off. But walking outside that night was really the first blast of cold for the season and it hurt. My lungs felt like they were on fire with every breath I took in. So it looks like cold is going to be a problem for me - and the bad news is, it has only just begun.
posted by Iloveny_marf @ 4:28 PM
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