A link to a Sedalia Democrat article written by Heath Hooper:
"Linda Fisher knew she wanted to be a writer since her first pass at college." Read the entire article at www.sedaliademocrat.com/news/first_9332___article.html/writer_fisher.html - 57k
Showing posts with label Linda Fisher. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Linda Fisher. Show all posts
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Green Apple Gum
Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of Jim since I met him in 1968. He died almost three years ago and remains with me through memories of the life we shared. Sometimes the little things, or pebbles, become lost in the big rocks, or major events. When something triggers our thoughts, we discover a pebble hidden by the shadows.
As I exited church last Sunday, I caught the scent of green apple gum. I smiled, and I assume that everyone just thought I was happy, or being friendly. In that moment, I could feel Jim’s presence beside me, and he definitely was not happy.
When our kids were small, they thought green apple gum was the best tasting gum available. Jim would not tolerate the gum in the house, or even worse, the car.
“Who’s chewing that stinky gum!” he would shout, as he glared into the rearview mirror at the kids. The offending child would roll his window down and spit the gum out. It became a joke in the family that Jim could not tolerate the smell of green apple gum. This is a man who liked limburger cheese, which in my opinion, smells like road kill. A small piece of green apple gum made his stomach roll, and he would retch if exposed to the smell very long.
One time we drove to Kansas with our friends, Rick and Sandy. We stopped at a rest area to get gas, and Sandy who had heard of Jim’s legendary aversion to green apple gum, bought some. “This will be so funny!” she said as she paid the clerk.
“Sandy, he won’t see the humor in it,” I warned her.
As soon as Rick pulled his van out of the parking lot and headed down I-70, Sandy started shoving green apple gum into her mouth until she had such a wad of it she could hardly chew it. As soon as the smell released, Jim whipped his head around and shouted, “Who’s chewing green apple gum!”
“I am,” Sandy said meekly, aware now that it really set him off. Without being told, she opened a window and threw the gum out.
That was the last time I smelled green apple gum until Sunday at church. I shook hands with the pastor and left the building. Jim would have hunted down the person with the green apple gum and informed them they were polluting his air space. That was the Jim I knew and loved, and the one that sometimes exasperated me.
I have never chewed green apple gum, and never will. I don’t have the low tolerance for it that Jim had, but a whiff of green apple gum pelts my senses with a pebble of memory. Green apple gum triggers a random remembrance of the complex and very human man who shared my life for 37 years and still lives in my heart.
As I exited church last Sunday, I caught the scent of green apple gum. I smiled, and I assume that everyone just thought I was happy, or being friendly. In that moment, I could feel Jim’s presence beside me, and he definitely was not happy.
When our kids were small, they thought green apple gum was the best tasting gum available. Jim would not tolerate the gum in the house, or even worse, the car.
“Who’s chewing that stinky gum!” he would shout, as he glared into the rearview mirror at the kids. The offending child would roll his window down and spit the gum out. It became a joke in the family that Jim could not tolerate the smell of green apple gum. This is a man who liked limburger cheese, which in my opinion, smells like road kill. A small piece of green apple gum made his stomach roll, and he would retch if exposed to the smell very long.
One time we drove to Kansas with our friends, Rick and Sandy. We stopped at a rest area to get gas, and Sandy who had heard of Jim’s legendary aversion to green apple gum, bought some. “This will be so funny!” she said as she paid the clerk.
“Sandy, he won’t see the humor in it,” I warned her.
As soon as Rick pulled his van out of the parking lot and headed down I-70, Sandy started shoving green apple gum into her mouth until she had such a wad of it she could hardly chew it. As soon as the smell released, Jim whipped his head around and shouted, “Who’s chewing green apple gum!”
“I am,” Sandy said meekly, aware now that it really set him off. Without being told, she opened a window and threw the gum out.
That was the last time I smelled green apple gum until Sunday at church. I shook hands with the pastor and left the building. Jim would have hunted down the person with the green apple gum and informed them they were polluting his air space. That was the Jim I knew and loved, and the one that sometimes exasperated me.
I have never chewed green apple gum, and never will. I don’t have the low tolerance for it that Jim had, but a whiff of green apple gum pelts my senses with a pebble of memory. Green apple gum triggers a random remembrance of the complex and very human man who shared my life for 37 years and still lives in my heart.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Alzheimer's Anthology of Unconditional Love
Alzheimer’s Anthology of Unconditional Love is a collection of thirty-seven true stories about Missourians who have embarked upon an unwilling journey into an uncharted world toward a future different than the one envisioned. It is the death of dreams, plans, and the birth of unconditional love. The stories capture the effect Alzheimer’s has on caregivers, sons, daughters, in-laws, friends, children, grandchildren, and healthcare workers. The collection includes two stories from persons diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. The writers range from a Pulitzer Prize nominee to unpublished authors. For those beginning the journey, these true storieswill help them realize they are not alone.
Available at amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, and at Missouri Barnes and Noble stores. Signed copies available at www.lsfisher.com
Saturday, March 8, 2008
Alzheimer's: The Power of Our Words
I saw a demonstration of how much our words and thoughts affect others. The speaker, Travis Mathes, asked for a volunteer, and a self-confident business man, Daryl, came forward. Travis asked Daryl to hold his arms outstretched to his sides and resist his attempts to force his arms down. Then he asked Daryl to lower his arms, looked him in the eye, and said, “You are ugly, you are stupid, you are worthless…”
After about eight derogatory statements, Travis asked Daryl to hold his arms out and without using any more force than the first time, easily pushed Daryl’s arms down. Daryl’s take on it, “Wow, that was weird!”
This demonstration shows how our words can demoralize another person into a position of weakness. Travis immediately said eight positive things, and Daryl had the strength to resist the pressure on his arms.
After Daryl sat down, Travis asked a woman to come forward. Instead of saying anything to her, he simply asked her to look into his eyes for about a minute. He easily pushed her arms down. They made eye contact again, and this time his attempt failed. The difference? The first time, he thought the same things he said to Daryl. The second time, he thought positive, flattering thoughts.
We have often heard how our tone of voice and body language can affect people with Alzheimer’s. Even if their communication skills have degraded, our tone of voice conveys whether we are complimenting them or degrading them. If we speak to our loved ones with dementia in a positive tone with words that make them feel good about themselves, they will be stronger emotionally and physically. If we scold them or disparage their value as a human being, they become weaker and downtrodden.
Medical science cannot develop medicine as powerful as our words, attitude, and body language when it comes to preserving quality of life for ourselves and our loved ones with Alzheimer’s. The power is within each of us to encourage and positively influence our loved ones. It can be something as simple as saying, “You smell great today. You have a beautiful smile. I love you.”
Don’t get me wrong. I understand being a caregiver is challenging, and at certain times you may find yourself incapable of positive thoughts or words. At those times, find a mirror, look into your own eyes, and say, “I’m doing my best. I am a good caregiver.” Your words will make you strong.
Thank you, Travis, for the eye-opening demonstration.
To contact Travis Mathes for a speaking engagement, email mathest@marktwain.net
After about eight derogatory statements, Travis asked Daryl to hold his arms out and without using any more force than the first time, easily pushed Daryl’s arms down. Daryl’s take on it, “Wow, that was weird!”
This demonstration shows how our words can demoralize another person into a position of weakness. Travis immediately said eight positive things, and Daryl had the strength to resist the pressure on his arms.
After Daryl sat down, Travis asked a woman to come forward. Instead of saying anything to her, he simply asked her to look into his eyes for about a minute. He easily pushed her arms down. They made eye contact again, and this time his attempt failed. The difference? The first time, he thought the same things he said to Daryl. The second time, he thought positive, flattering thoughts.
We have often heard how our tone of voice and body language can affect people with Alzheimer’s. Even if their communication skills have degraded, our tone of voice conveys whether we are complimenting them or degrading them. If we speak to our loved ones with dementia in a positive tone with words that make them feel good about themselves, they will be stronger emotionally and physically. If we scold them or disparage their value as a human being, they become weaker and downtrodden.
Medical science cannot develop medicine as powerful as our words, attitude, and body language when it comes to preserving quality of life for ourselves and our loved ones with Alzheimer’s. The power is within each of us to encourage and positively influence our loved ones. It can be something as simple as saying, “You smell great today. You have a beautiful smile. I love you.”
Don’t get me wrong. I understand being a caregiver is challenging, and at certain times you may find yourself incapable of positive thoughts or words. At those times, find a mirror, look into your own eyes, and say, “I’m doing my best. I am a good caregiver.” Your words will make you strong.
Thank you, Travis, for the eye-opening demonstration.
To contact Travis Mathes for a speaking engagement, email mathest@marktwain.net
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Young/Early Onset Dementia
My head is still spinning from my conversation last Friday with Connie Wasserman, Program Director of Senior Services, Sid Jacobson Jewish Community Center, East Hills, NY. Connie is a dynamic lady dedicated to improving quality of life for young onset individuals. Yes, she refers to those with dementia that began before age 65 as young onset.
Connie told me that the first time she attended a roundtable discussion about early onset dementia, half of the people attending mistakenly thought “early onset” was synonymous with “early stage.” The terms are confusing!
Early stage has nothing to do with age; it refers to the stage of the disease. In the early stages of Alzheimer’s, a person may exhibit personality changes or memory loss that affects job performance, show lapses in judgment, demonstrate difficulty remembering words or names, and could have problems handling money or paying bills.
Early onset means the disease has been recognized in a person who is younger than 65 years old. The Alzheimer’s Association estimates that 500,000 people in the United States have early onset dementia.
People with young onset dementia require stimulation to improve the quality of their lives. Connie described Sid Jacobson’s “Let’s Do Lunch” program. In addition to lunch, participants enjoy music therapy, step aerobics, art therapy, and a creative writing program. This adult day program for young people in the moderate stage of a neurodegenerative disease is innovative and carefully developed.
Connie and I share a mission to advocate for better lives for those with dementia. I have begun to collect stories for the Early Onset Project, which will provide an opportunity for those with early, or young, onset to share their stories. In addition to compelling slice-of-life stories, the book will contain informational articles. Connie plans to write an article for the Early Onset Project about their programs for young onset individuals.
If you or someone you love has early onset dementia, you will agree with Connie Wasserman that “this population is more than underserved—it is non-served.” Let’s hope the ripple in New York turns into a tidal wave of recognition and ACTION toward improving quality of life for those with early onset dementia.
To watch a video and for information about the young onset programs visit http://www.sjcc.org/
For complete submissions guidelines for the Early Onset Book Project visit my website at http://www.lsfisher.com/ and click on the Early Onset Project link.
Connie told me that the first time she attended a roundtable discussion about early onset dementia, half of the people attending mistakenly thought “early onset” was synonymous with “early stage.” The terms are confusing!
Early stage has nothing to do with age; it refers to the stage of the disease. In the early stages of Alzheimer’s, a person may exhibit personality changes or memory loss that affects job performance, show lapses in judgment, demonstrate difficulty remembering words or names, and could have problems handling money or paying bills.
Early onset means the disease has been recognized in a person who is younger than 65 years old. The Alzheimer’s Association estimates that 500,000 people in the United States have early onset dementia.
People with young onset dementia require stimulation to improve the quality of their lives. Connie described Sid Jacobson’s “Let’s Do Lunch” program. In addition to lunch, participants enjoy music therapy, step aerobics, art therapy, and a creative writing program. This adult day program for young people in the moderate stage of a neurodegenerative disease is innovative and carefully developed.
Connie and I share a mission to advocate for better lives for those with dementia. I have begun to collect stories for the Early Onset Project, which will provide an opportunity for those with early, or young, onset to share their stories. In addition to compelling slice-of-life stories, the book will contain informational articles. Connie plans to write an article for the Early Onset Project about their programs for young onset individuals.
If you or someone you love has early onset dementia, you will agree with Connie Wasserman that “this population is more than underserved—it is non-served.” Let’s hope the ripple in New York turns into a tidal wave of recognition and ACTION toward improving quality of life for those with early onset dementia.
To watch a video and for information about the young onset programs visit http://www.sjcc.org/
For complete submissions guidelines for the Early Onset Book Project visit my website at http://www.lsfisher.com/ and click on the Early Onset Project link.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Joel Osteen Unleashes Hope and Inspiration in Kansas City
Joel Osteen ministries unleashed hope and inspiration in Kansas City last night. Joel has the God-given talent to make millions believe in the premise of his books, “Live Your Best Life Now” and “Become a Better You.”
At Kansas City’s Night of Hope, a packed Kemper Arena learned the limited scope of Joel Osteen’s half-hour TV broadcast. During a longer worship service, the music is lively, uplifting, and the singers actually jump up and down while they sing. They must be young, or they would surely be out of breath.
Joel’s wife, Victoria, shares a message that is relevant for anyone dealing with Alzheimer’s. She speaks of unconditional love and how inner happiness begins with loving your own family. She says that to demonstrate your love for your family, celebrate daily moments instead of waiting for major events. Victoria drinks one cup of coffee in the morning and although he doesn’t drink coffee, Joel fixes coffee for her and sometimes brings it to her in bed. This small act of kindness shows his love for her.
I personally identify with Victoria’s coffee story. Always the early riser, Jim required a cup of coffee and no obstacle ever interfered with his morning ritual. Once he brewed a pot on our camp stove in a hospital parking lot, and another time, hiked across a busy St. Louis interstate to McDonald’s because the hotel coffee shop did not open until the ridiculously late hour of 6:00 a.m. All I had to do was snuggle beneath warm covers and he would bring me my first cup of coffee in bed, complete with creamer, just the way I liked it. It was just one of the ways Jim showed he loved me.
As dementia clouded Jim’s abilities, he became more dependent on me, and I was blessed to return some of the consideration and care he had always shown me. One time I went to the Alzheimer’s Association Public Policy Forum and was dismayed when I returned to find no one had shaved Jim during my absence. His mother told me Jim pushed away the nurses’ aide who tried to shave him and struggled through his voice-stealing aphasia to say, “No! Linda.” Shaving him was a small daily celebration of our love, and no nurses’ aide would pat Old Spice onto his smooth cheeks the same way I did.
When someone you love has Alzheimer’s you have daily opportunities to celebrate your unconditional love. If you face each breaking dawn with inner hope and a conviction that each day is too precious to waste, you will find a Joel Osteen type of inspiration to “Live Your Best Life Now.”
At Kansas City’s Night of Hope, a packed Kemper Arena learned the limited scope of Joel Osteen’s half-hour TV broadcast. During a longer worship service, the music is lively, uplifting, and the singers actually jump up and down while they sing. They must be young, or they would surely be out of breath.
Joel’s wife, Victoria, shares a message that is relevant for anyone dealing with Alzheimer’s. She speaks of unconditional love and how inner happiness begins with loving your own family. She says that to demonstrate your love for your family, celebrate daily moments instead of waiting for major events. Victoria drinks one cup of coffee in the morning and although he doesn’t drink coffee, Joel fixes coffee for her and sometimes brings it to her in bed. This small act of kindness shows his love for her.
I personally identify with Victoria’s coffee story. Always the early riser, Jim required a cup of coffee and no obstacle ever interfered with his morning ritual. Once he brewed a pot on our camp stove in a hospital parking lot, and another time, hiked across a busy St. Louis interstate to McDonald’s because the hotel coffee shop did not open until the ridiculously late hour of 6:00 a.m. All I had to do was snuggle beneath warm covers and he would bring me my first cup of coffee in bed, complete with creamer, just the way I liked it. It was just one of the ways Jim showed he loved me.
As dementia clouded Jim’s abilities, he became more dependent on me, and I was blessed to return some of the consideration and care he had always shown me. One time I went to the Alzheimer’s Association Public Policy Forum and was dismayed when I returned to find no one had shaved Jim during my absence. His mother told me Jim pushed away the nurses’ aide who tried to shave him and struggled through his voice-stealing aphasia to say, “No! Linda.” Shaving him was a small daily celebration of our love, and no nurses’ aide would pat Old Spice onto his smooth cheeks the same way I did.
When someone you love has Alzheimer’s you have daily opportunities to celebrate your unconditional love. If you face each breaking dawn with inner hope and a conviction that each day is too precious to waste, you will find a Joel Osteen type of inspiration to “Live Your Best Life Now.”
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