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A Screwdriver in a World of Nails

Cloudy or not, life's views are often still beautiful.
Cloudy or not, life’s views are often still beautiful.

There is a saying, “If your only tool is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.”  That’s a fine saying. For even a screw can pass for a nail, if one is willing and able to put in the extra effort to pound away. But what if one’s only tool is a screw driver?

As I look back on the week, I see many things which turned out well, but seemed so much harder than they should have been.  I find myself more and more having to throw effort and elbow grease at problems until they yield.  The thing is, I am not using a hammer to pound away at screws.  I’m using the handle of a screw driver as if it is a mallet, all the while ignoring the cracks and dents each nail imparts upon the handle.

Have you ever felt like you could solve problems only to find more and more problems for which you are not ideally prepared?  That has been my feeling all week long from having the wrong screws to rebuild a broken swing set to securing a computer at Miami airport only to find it could not load Adobe Connect.  I was able to solve both problems, but each took more time and effort while making me feel foolish for not anticipating the problem until it needed solving immediately.

This whole week has been exhausting and rewarding.  My work published our fourth publication of this cycle.  I went to St. Thomas and met with the Governor, and on the way back, I stopped in Miami airport to use the Ambassador’s club to participate in a webinar for the American Board of Internal Medicine.  To top it all off, I came home to family happy to see me.

I’m tired, but I still feel relevant, less isolated and more importantly, appreciated.  For a guy with a fairly aggressive MS, it reminds me how I should define my luck to appreciate what I still have. It has been a good week to remind me to use other tools as needed, and not to panic if the first tool grabbed does not work.

Not every problem is a screw.

I love talking with data driven politicians.  This week, I was lucky enough to spend time with John de Jongh, Jr., the governor of the U.S. Virgin Islands.
I love talking with data driven politicians. This week, I was lucky enough to spend time with John de Jongh, Jr., the governor of the U.S. Virgin Islands.
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When Logic Fails

The mind is a mystery, and sometimes it is really scary.
The mind is a mystery, and sometimes, it is really scary.

Have you ever disagreed with someone and it seems as though all logic fails to convince them the errors of their ways? Unbelievably, I am not writing about a political issue even if the logic may be the same. As we deal with A’s stomach and her growing phobias, there are times we have to take a step back from our position of frustrated parents. I am sure I have frustrated many friends and teachers through the years when I have failed to grasp their reasoning, but I wonder if I am as untouched by the logic of the learned as my daughter has shown herself to be recently.

Dealing with an 8 year old who cannot eat in a restaurant because there is a fly is annoying. Having her reduced to huddling against me for safety from the fly or crying out in fear would be somewhat comical to watch from afar. We tried everything we could think of as we pointed out how big she was compared to the fly, how the horse she had just ridden was able to shake them off, and finally how little of her food the one fly was likely to eat. It did not matter as all of these arguments are adult logic.  The dinner was a wash for her.

Then we went home and a fly followed us into the house. As A screamed not wanting to go to the bathroom where the fly went, we thought we would go insane. I promised to squash it if it came after her. I reminded her of the books about “Buzz” the fly. Still, teeth brushing had to happen at another sink, away from where she saw the fly.

It was just a fly!

At some point, we came to realize we were arguing the wrong way. We were using logic as an adult might to solve a problem. Her problem is deeper and more pervasive. We were proposing a gentle salve on an emotional wound deeper than we know. She cannot stop picking her hands, and suddenly she cannot eat hot dogs with ketchup on the bun. Those are just two of the many recent changes. Why? Who knows, but the phobia and sudden intense dislikes are difficult to resolve. I wish I knew what those emotions meant to her. It is like an emotional logic I just do not understand, and she does not have the vocabulary to express it.

What does one do when one’s own logic fails to sooth the results of a kid’s thought process?

“Dear incomprehension, it’s thanks to you I’ll be myself, in the end.” – Samuel Beckett in The Unnamable

"I'm not saying I am Wonder Woman.  I'm just saying nobody has seen me and Wonder Woman in a room together."   Well, I'll say it, "You are my Wonder(ful) Woman."
“I’m not saying I am Wonder Woman. I’m just saying nobody has seen me and Wonder Woman in a room together.”
Well, I’ll say it, “J,You are my Wonder(ful) Woman.”
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