Paradigm Shifts* and Balancing Acts**

When Greg and I worked for Valmet in the late 80s and early 90s, we were subjected to a course in Covey’s Seven Habits of Highly Effective People. I found it interesting and useful. Greg, of course, found it an utter waste of time.

In any case, I never forgot Covey’s “paradigm shift,” though I hadn’t put the habit to much use in recent history. Lately, though, I’ve become keenly aware of myriad ways my thinking can be completely wrong and have brought paradigm shifting back into play.

Covey has the best example of a paradigm shift: He was traveling in a subway. A man got on with his two sons, who began to run all over the place -- bothering people. This continued until Covey became irritated enough to ask the father why he didn't do something to control his kids. Father replies, "We just got back from the hospital where their mother died. I don't know how to handle it and I guess they don't either."

That is when snap judgments turn empathetic.

I had three paradigm shifts yesterday in rapid succession.

The first I can’t go into for confidentiality reasons, but the gist is this: a woman in group therapy seemed rather high-maintenance to me. Note, I’ve gotten to know her little-by-little over the course of ten meetings and this was a judgment that didn’t particularly bother me, I really love her! – I simply suspected she had an (unfortunately) high-maintenance emotional makeup. Yesterday she finally opened up about a stress in her life that TOTALLY explains all the little “hints” provided in the first nine meetings. Paradigm shift #one.

On my way home from that meeting, I pass a crappy-looking, rundown neighborhood bar (purposely unnamed) on a main thoroughfare. I’ll just call it Crabby’s Bar for now. To my right I glimpse a man having difficulty entering Crabby’s, using his cane to hold himself steady as he works at opening the door. He is perhaps in his 60s with long, scruffy hair and beard, rumpled clothing -- someone you might expect to smell if you got close, and someone you might judge to be a person requiring alcohol at 11:45 a.m. Mind you, I’m still in paradigm-shift mode, thinking about my group-therapy friend. I see the man and here’s what uncharacteristically comes to mind: He’s probably having chemotherapy, today is his GOOD day, and this bar is his “Cheers” -- where everyone knows his name! You go, Guy! Paradigm shift #two.

Then I stop to pick up more drugs at Walgreens. I’m having a really good day (asterisk3), having thoroughly enjoyed group therapy and now with enough energy left for running errands. It’s like a party in my head.

‘Get out of my bug (VW), walk toward the store, and spot an Illinois license plate. Leaning on the car is an emaciated, scruffy (yes, again “scruffy”) youngish, 30-something man smoking a cigarette and wearing a Hitler-style mustache (asterisk4). I think “Fonzie.” I say “Really from Illinois?” (asterisk5) He says, “Not for long. ‘Moving back here from Vegas. ‘Got a 2-year-old and a 7-year old. ‘Know what the graduation, I mean high-school graduation, IS in Vegas?” I have no idea and say nothing. He says, “Forty-eight percent. That’s right. Forty-eight percent.” His 7-year old runs up to him. He throws his arm around the kid and prompts the young’un to say hi to the crazy old lady. We chat easily about the good life, family living, in Appleton, Wisconsin. Paradigm shift #three.

I walk to the pharmacy counter at Walgreens and say “I had a message on the machine.” Young, handsome drug tech reaches, grabs a few white bags, and says “Two?” I say “I dunno. What are they?” He says “Lorazepam (sleep) and Hydrocodone (pain).” I say, “That’s me!!” I walk away thinking he might be wondering how a bouncy-cheery person like me could possibly need sleep aids and pain killers. In paradigm mode, he might be left thinking “street drugs for sure, that one.” Hah!

Due to chemo-brain and the complexity of today's blog entry, Greg is credited for proofreading and re-arranging my many asterisks (using his programming skills/shortcuts). Next lesson from Greg will be on "the use of hyperlinks to replace asterisks."

Today when I came home from Julie’s yoga class at the Thompson Center, there was a square-ish box on the front steps. A super lightweight, square-ish box. I have yet to take the “hair hat” out of the hair net in which it arrived. (Asterisk7)

* I decided to do a short version for “skimmers,” but wanted to include more for people wondering how I’m doing. ‘Need to cover that too, so I don’t start getting annoying phone calls and more email than I can handle – popular as I am these days. (Though yes, I can still safely go to Aldi without a bodyguard. (Asterisk8)

** I know I was slated to discuss details of side effects this week, but it’s my time and I’ll spend it the way I want to spend it. Got a problem with that? Suck it up. Problem solved.

Asterisk3 – I’m hoping I’ve got my groove back. I seem to be spot on about chemo side effects starting 48 hours after treatment (again this week) when steroids wear off. I had chemo on Tuesday, because of the Monday holiday, so I’m starting to feel crummy today – Thursday. Typically Monday’s chemo day, so crummy-ness will start on Wednesday – making Tuesday, IF I’m right, party day (i.e. still good on steroids from chemo). T’rific Tuesday. Yesterday (Asterisk6) I felt so good, even after errands, that when Greg came home from work earlier than usual, I suggested a motorcycle ride to Green Bay to use a gift certificate for Reader’s Loft bookstore. After the bookstore, I wanted ice-cream, so we headed for cutesy Broadway Street (“A Great American Main Street” I’d been told). We happened upon a great Farmers’ Market and Crazy-Caramel waffle ice-cream cones.

Asterisk4 – Urban Dictionary refers to the Hitler-style mustache as a Coin Purse Polisher. See “Coin Purse Polisher” at urbandictionary.com.

Asterisk5 - I have no idea where I was going with this off-the-top-chemo-brain remark about Illinois. Perhaps my next move was to remind him what Wisconsinites think of FIBs? Just kidding, Anne. (As some of you know, I have a tendency to talk to strangers. Now, when I’m having a good day, the tendency is even greater. Or worse, depending on whether you’re shy or easily embarrassed and happen to be at my side.)

Asterisk6 – Last week, after side effects began as planned on Wednesday, I had complete reprieve on Friday for an amazing day with Susan -- which could turn into Asterisk8 if I weren’t so concerned for your time. Suffice it to say, the crummy-ness returned for Saturday and Sunday. (Monday then, which should have been chemo day except it was 4th of July, would have been my first “out of the woods” day. What the heck?).

Asterisk7 – If you followed all these numbers and days of the week and still want more, watch “Between the Folds” on Netflix, a 1-hour documentary on origami.

Asterisk8 – Credit to Michael Perry, author of Population 486, who frequents “Fleet Farm,” whereas I frequent “Aldi.”