An Open Letter to My Father
Dad from you I learned about a work ethic
Dad from you I learned to stand up for what I believe in
Dad from you I learned perseverance
Dad from you I learned to be strong in the face of adversity
Dad from you I learned to work towards your dreams.
I appreciate how you influenced my development into a ‘grown-up’.
I have a question for you though,
WHY?
Why did you do it?
Why did you raise me to love the Vikings?
Why did you raise me to bleed purple on Sundays in the fall?
Why did you instill in me hope,
The hope that each year is going to be ‘our year’?
Favre aka Moses brought a glimmer of that hope
Shortly after I thought to myself that Moses will take us to the promised land,
I knew we were doomed.
Doomed to always be the bridesmaid,
Forever waiting for our turn to dance.
Your #1 son
Mitch
PS Go Vikes!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
My Walk with ADHD
When I was in my third year of college, I had to write a research paper. This was the most painstaking process I’d been a part of in my academic career. After my professor read my paper she asked me if I have ever been tested for a learning disability or ADHD. I can remember thinking that she didn’t know what she’s talking about. Two years later (I was on the 8 year plan for a bachelor’s degree) I was struggling with many of my classes and this same teacher suggested I look into getting tested. This time I reluctantly agreed as I knew if I didn’t figure something out, I would probably flunk out of school.
What I remember most about the six hours of tests I took (research suggests that for an accurate diagnosis of ADHD there should be many many tests done) is that I was asked to recall a series of numbers and I was tapping a pencil on the desk so often that the test proctor took the pencil away from me (so I stuck my tongue out at her).
I’m not sure what all of the tests were designed to measure, but what I eventually came to learn is that I do have ADHD. As I read more about ADHD, I learned that people who go undiagnosed often have a low self esteem as they don’t feel as smart as their peers. I knew I wasn’t dumb but couldn’t understand no matter how much I studied, I couldn’t get the grades I had hoped for. In high school, I always heard the teacher say, “He’s not living up to his potential.” When I discovered I could get basically the same letter grade with minimal amount of studying, I gave up trying to get A’s and B’s. In 9th grade algebra, my teacher sent a deficiency to my parents because I had a C.
My psychiatrist started me on Wellbutrin, which is an anti-depressant that has some stimulant (i.e. Ritalin) properties. The doc told me that it might take up to six weeks for it to work. Since it was such a slow process, I didn’t know if it was working. I felt pretty much the same. I was playing softball that summer and when a hitter was coming up to bat for the second time during the game, I remembered exactly where they hit the ball the last time. I couldn’t believe it. Before I was diagnosed I used to tell myself that I just have to pay attention more. When I couldn’t I became frustrated.
Eventually my doctor changed my medication to Ritalin. The best way I could describe how Ritalin helped was twenty minutes after I took it, it was almost as if a wave of calm splashed over me. Silly small things that made me furious before didn’t seem to bother me. I definitely felt less high strung.
Recently, I ran out of medication, concerta, and was forced to go for a day or two without taking it. What I came to discover was that I didn’t realize how much my medication helps me get through the day. I was in a meeting listening to someone, and I probably only heard every 5th word and had to fill in the rest of the information by guessing. Self-motivation is completely non-existence when I don’t have my meds. To get off the couch and get something to eat takes about as much effort as it would to walk to Canada (in my mind) I also have a hard time putting thoughts into words. I have all of these thoughts going on in my head but because they are changing so quickly I can’t concentrate enough to put together a sentence. Medication or not, when I get nervous this still happens and find myself apologizing during meetings as I know I’m taking a long time to get my thought out. Other times I find myself wanting to make a point and I completely lose my train of thought.
My wife definitely notices when I haven’t taken my meds. A small part of me likes how I feel when I don’t take my meds as I’m more silly and spontaneous with my children. However, any disruption to my ‘world’ completely upsets and angers me and it’s very difficult to keep that in check. The negatives that accompany not taking my medications far outweigh the positives.
My forgetfulness drives me and everyone around me crazy. If you ask me where my keys are, I wouldn’t know unless I put them in the same spot (which I do). I have a brain full of useless information and facts, while I’m not positive, I’m pretty sure this is due to my ADHD. Certain kinds of insignificant trivia I do very well at. For example, I might not know who discovered America, but I could probably tell you what they ate for dinner the night before. I’ve never gone out and tried to learn this stuff. As strange as it sounds, I learn much easier if there’s no pressure to learn the information. I sometimes feel like Cliff Clavin from the show Cheers when he says, “It’s a little known fact that…”
I feel sometimes that I am ADHD. That everything about who I am is as a result of ADHD. My likes, dislikes, everything. I enjoy playing video games. Why? Because of the charge my brain gets when I do well or when I figure out how to get past a certain part. I have loved sports my whole life. Why? I enjoyed the charge I got when I do well or when the team wins. To some degree, I think my ADHD affected my performance for the worse in high school. I also think taking medications affected my performance for the better after college.
ADHD isn’t something that you ‘catch’. It’s basically how your brain is wired and I’ve had it my whole life. People don’t out grow this, although I wish they did. If there was a cure, I’d sell my first born to get it, o.k., so that’s a little extreme.
My point with all of this is to not gain sympathy. We all have our crosses to bear. I guess my point is to make the reader aware of the struggles people with ADHD have. I’m lucky actually as there are things that are much more debilitating then ADHD. I have ADHD and I find ways to cope, I find ways to adapt, I find ways to accept it for what it is. Most importantly, I have learned to be comfortable with myself, walking hand in hand with my ADHD, not letting it lead me (unless I see something shiny) but going through this journey of life together.
What I remember most about the six hours of tests I took (research suggests that for an accurate diagnosis of ADHD there should be many many tests done) is that I was asked to recall a series of numbers and I was tapping a pencil on the desk so often that the test proctor took the pencil away from me (so I stuck my tongue out at her).
I’m not sure what all of the tests were designed to measure, but what I eventually came to learn is that I do have ADHD. As I read more about ADHD, I learned that people who go undiagnosed often have a low self esteem as they don’t feel as smart as their peers. I knew I wasn’t dumb but couldn’t understand no matter how much I studied, I couldn’t get the grades I had hoped for. In high school, I always heard the teacher say, “He’s not living up to his potential.” When I discovered I could get basically the same letter grade with minimal amount of studying, I gave up trying to get A’s and B’s. In 9th grade algebra, my teacher sent a deficiency to my parents because I had a C.
My psychiatrist started me on Wellbutrin, which is an anti-depressant that has some stimulant (i.e. Ritalin) properties. The doc told me that it might take up to six weeks for it to work. Since it was such a slow process, I didn’t know if it was working. I felt pretty much the same. I was playing softball that summer and when a hitter was coming up to bat for the second time during the game, I remembered exactly where they hit the ball the last time. I couldn’t believe it. Before I was diagnosed I used to tell myself that I just have to pay attention more. When I couldn’t I became frustrated.
Eventually my doctor changed my medication to Ritalin. The best way I could describe how Ritalin helped was twenty minutes after I took it, it was almost as if a wave of calm splashed over me. Silly small things that made me furious before didn’t seem to bother me. I definitely felt less high strung.
Recently, I ran out of medication, concerta, and was forced to go for a day or two without taking it. What I came to discover was that I didn’t realize how much my medication helps me get through the day. I was in a meeting listening to someone, and I probably only heard every 5th word and had to fill in the rest of the information by guessing. Self-motivation is completely non-existence when I don’t have my meds. To get off the couch and get something to eat takes about as much effort as it would to walk to Canada (in my mind) I also have a hard time putting thoughts into words. I have all of these thoughts going on in my head but because they are changing so quickly I can’t concentrate enough to put together a sentence. Medication or not, when I get nervous this still happens and find myself apologizing during meetings as I know I’m taking a long time to get my thought out. Other times I find myself wanting to make a point and I completely lose my train of thought.
My wife definitely notices when I haven’t taken my meds. A small part of me likes how I feel when I don’t take my meds as I’m more silly and spontaneous with my children. However, any disruption to my ‘world’ completely upsets and angers me and it’s very difficult to keep that in check. The negatives that accompany not taking my medications far outweigh the positives.
My forgetfulness drives me and everyone around me crazy. If you ask me where my keys are, I wouldn’t know unless I put them in the same spot (which I do). I have a brain full of useless information and facts, while I’m not positive, I’m pretty sure this is due to my ADHD. Certain kinds of insignificant trivia I do very well at. For example, I might not know who discovered America, but I could probably tell you what they ate for dinner the night before. I’ve never gone out and tried to learn this stuff. As strange as it sounds, I learn much easier if there’s no pressure to learn the information. I sometimes feel like Cliff Clavin from the show Cheers when he says, “It’s a little known fact that…”
I feel sometimes that I am ADHD. That everything about who I am is as a result of ADHD. My likes, dislikes, everything. I enjoy playing video games. Why? Because of the charge my brain gets when I do well or when I figure out how to get past a certain part. I have loved sports my whole life. Why? I enjoyed the charge I got when I do well or when the team wins. To some degree, I think my ADHD affected my performance for the worse in high school. I also think taking medications affected my performance for the better after college.
ADHD isn’t something that you ‘catch’. It’s basically how your brain is wired and I’ve had it my whole life. People don’t out grow this, although I wish they did. If there was a cure, I’d sell my first born to get it, o.k., so that’s a little extreme.
My point with all of this is to not gain sympathy. We all have our crosses to bear. I guess my point is to make the reader aware of the struggles people with ADHD have. I’m lucky actually as there are things that are much more debilitating then ADHD. I have ADHD and I find ways to cope, I find ways to adapt, I find ways to accept it for what it is. Most importantly, I have learned to be comfortable with myself, walking hand in hand with my ADHD, not letting it lead me (unless I see something shiny) but going through this journey of life together.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Tuesday Top Ten
Here are the top ten reasons why I drive 50 minutes to work every day:
10. seeing LLS smile.
9. the chance of being called the big boss cheese
8. hearing my assistant laugh
7. talking about the Vikings with CR
6. the kitchen staff (they always take care of me at lunch)
5. When CL comes to get her check on pay days
4. listening to ST
3. working with a great Admin/OSSMT team
2. Seeing staff grow and change
1. Knowing we all have one common goal, to support the clients to ensure they have as much independence as possible
10. seeing LLS smile.
9. the chance of being called the big boss cheese
8. hearing my assistant laugh
7. talking about the Vikings with CR
6. the kitchen staff (they always take care of me at lunch)
5. When CL comes to get her check on pay days
4. listening to ST
3. working with a great Admin/OSSMT team
2. Seeing staff grow and change
1. Knowing we all have one common goal, to support the clients to ensure they have as much independence as possible
Friday, January 15, 2010
For Ivy
I look at your face, I see you smile.
I watch you explore, learning about the world you live in.
I hear you cry and feel your sadness.
I see your small fingers, small toes.
I watch you try to crawl.
I watch you learn to eat.
I sing to you.
I watch you roll over.
I watch you sleep.
I laugh with you.
I hold you in my arms
And I feel love.
I watch you explore, learning about the world you live in.
I hear you cry and feel your sadness.
I see your small fingers, small toes.
I watch you try to crawl.
I watch you learn to eat.
I sing to you.
I watch you roll over.
I watch you sleep.
I laugh with you.
I hold you in my arms
And I feel love.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Competition
For those of you that don't know, I am probably one of the most competitive people you will probably ever meet. I will say that my competitiveness isn't nearly as bad as it used to be and I probably inherited my competitiveness from my father. I also see its ugly face, to some degree, in some of my children. I think about why I am this way and it boils down to one simple reason. I absolutely hate to lose. I was involved in sports in high school (this isn't a blog about how 'great' of an athlete I used to be) and I think because most of the teams I participated on weren’t very good my hate of losing started back then.
If a psychologist analyzed my hate for losing they'd probably say it's because I have a fear of failing. To some extent, they would probably be right. Our environment has some effect on who we are as people and both professionally and personally my environment has helped to 'shape' this belief. As I get ready to watch the NFL playoff games today and tomorrow, I was thinking of a something I wrote for a radio station recalling a football game I played in high school (my story won me box seats to a Twins game). Again, this blog isn't intended to brag about any athletic achievements as there really weren't any. This was my one shining moment in my athletic career.
The score was tied 0-0 and there was less then a minute left in the game. I was feeling frustrated as we hadn't passed the ball much during this game. (If you ask someone who has played wide receiver, they will say they are wide open every time there is a pass play.) Furthermore, I was wide open every time we tried a pass play. We stood in the huddle waiting for the coach to send in the play. I glanced at my black shoes and noticed that one of my laces needed to be replaced. The coach sends in a player who whispers the play to the quarterback. The quarterback then tells us the play, "21 counter bootleg right pass on one". My heart stopped beating for a second as this play had one purpose, to score a touchdown and the ball was going to be thrown to me.
We came to the line of scrimmage and I feel a wave of calm wash over me. I check with the line judge to make sure I was on the line of scrimmage. I glance over to where the free safety is supposed to be and he is inching closer to the line of scrimmage. He thinks it's a running play. I look at the position of the cornerback covering me and he's standing on my inside shoulder about seven yards away from the line of scrimmage. As the quarterback stands behind the center he glances in my direction and we make eye contact for a split second. I turn my head forward and look at the conerbacks feet. The center snaps the ball to the quarterback who fakes a hand off. The cornerback rushes in as if he is going to tackle the running back. I run my z route (which looks like half of a lightning bolt) and the free safety is no where to be found. I make my cut and head towards the corner of the end zone. I look back at the quarterback who lets the ball fly. I keep running so as to make sure I have a chance to catch it, never taking my eye off the ball. Time slows, players move in slow motion and I hear nothing, no noise from the crowd or from either team. The ball hangs in space for what seems like an eternity. At the last second I throw my hands up and catch the ball and pull it to my chest. Time returns to normal and I hear the crowd cheering. I had just scored the winning touchdown with no time on the clock.
A few years ago, an LBSA client won the gold medal in the 400 meter dash for the Special Olympics. If some of you aren't familiar with this race, it is one of the hardest races to run as it's basically a sprint but it requires a great amount of endurance. I wonder, as he came around the last turn on the track, if everything slowed down for him, if everything moved in slow motion. When he crossed the finish line, I wonder if he felt the same level of excitement I felt. When I learned he won the race, I remember how excited I was for him. He was proud of his medal and wore it to work the following Monday (can’t say I blame him for that). I also remember thinking that this wasn’t Bob (name has been changed) the client who won the Special Olympics, this was Bob the 35 year old man who I work with that won the 400 meter dash.
If a psychologist analyzed my hate for losing they'd probably say it's because I have a fear of failing. To some extent, they would probably be right. Our environment has some effect on who we are as people and both professionally and personally my environment has helped to 'shape' this belief. As I get ready to watch the NFL playoff games today and tomorrow, I was thinking of a something I wrote for a radio station recalling a football game I played in high school (my story won me box seats to a Twins game). Again, this blog isn't intended to brag about any athletic achievements as there really weren't any. This was my one shining moment in my athletic career.
The score was tied 0-0 and there was less then a minute left in the game. I was feeling frustrated as we hadn't passed the ball much during this game. (If you ask someone who has played wide receiver, they will say they are wide open every time there is a pass play.) Furthermore, I was wide open every time we tried a pass play. We stood in the huddle waiting for the coach to send in the play. I glanced at my black shoes and noticed that one of my laces needed to be replaced. The coach sends in a player who whispers the play to the quarterback. The quarterback then tells us the play, "21 counter bootleg right pass on one". My heart stopped beating for a second as this play had one purpose, to score a touchdown and the ball was going to be thrown to me.
We came to the line of scrimmage and I feel a wave of calm wash over me. I check with the line judge to make sure I was on the line of scrimmage. I glance over to where the free safety is supposed to be and he is inching closer to the line of scrimmage. He thinks it's a running play. I look at the position of the cornerback covering me and he's standing on my inside shoulder about seven yards away from the line of scrimmage. As the quarterback stands behind the center he glances in my direction and we make eye contact for a split second. I turn my head forward and look at the conerbacks feet. The center snaps the ball to the quarterback who fakes a hand off. The cornerback rushes in as if he is going to tackle the running back. I run my z route (which looks like half of a lightning bolt) and the free safety is no where to be found. I make my cut and head towards the corner of the end zone. I look back at the quarterback who lets the ball fly. I keep running so as to make sure I have a chance to catch it, never taking my eye off the ball. Time slows, players move in slow motion and I hear nothing, no noise from the crowd or from either team. The ball hangs in space for what seems like an eternity. At the last second I throw my hands up and catch the ball and pull it to my chest. Time returns to normal and I hear the crowd cheering. I had just scored the winning touchdown with no time on the clock.
A few years ago, an LBSA client won the gold medal in the 400 meter dash for the Special Olympics. If some of you aren't familiar with this race, it is one of the hardest races to run as it's basically a sprint but it requires a great amount of endurance. I wonder, as he came around the last turn on the track, if everything slowed down for him, if everything moved in slow motion. When he crossed the finish line, I wonder if he felt the same level of excitement I felt. When I learned he won the race, I remember how excited I was for him. He was proud of his medal and wore it to work the following Monday (can’t say I blame him for that). I also remember thinking that this wasn’t Bob (name has been changed) the client who won the Special Olympics, this was Bob the 35 year old man who I work with that won the 400 meter dash.
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