Bachelor’s Degree in Applied Desperation

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I’ve made a lot of jokes about the self-directed, involuntary and unwanted medical education I’ve undertaken these past few years. Generally, I am more on the “ick” side than the “interesting” side when we’re talking about biology or bodies. So. Much. Goo.

Anyway, my health has forced me into learning way more than I ever wanted to know.

I used to teach Women’s Health at Mount Royal College in Calgary (now Mount Royal University) and I’ve always been careful to stick to my area of expertise, which is sociology, not medicine. Women’s Health was about the social determinants of health, the impact of sexism, racism, poverty and so on. I have been the victim of gendered bias. More than once. For example, I was told for two years that a strange group of symptoms were about peri-menopause (I was 37) but I actually had cancer. Frustrating. And I’ve unfortunately had the experience of having iatrogenic disease, that is, disease caused by medical intervention.

Nevertheless, I’m not distrustful of the medical profession; I’m generally thankful and in awe. They know so much. But they do make mistakes. No one is perfect. I’ve learned to understand our doctor/patient relationship as a partnership. We’re a team. I have responsibilities in all of this. So I learn.

Oh, and I forgot to mention, I’ve also co-edited two quasi-medical anthologies with E.D. Morin, one about menopause and one about concussion and brain injury.

All this is to say, I’ve learned a shocking amount about various conditions, medicines, cancer, chemo, radiation, brain injury, neurology, hearts, lungs, blood, epidemiology, virology, and more. I read. I read huge medical studies. Generally, I understand them. I know the difference between a good and bad study. I look for what is peer reviewed.

I’ve learned all of this on an “as needed” basis. The order I’ve learned all this in is certainly not what any medical school would recommend, and I am no doubt missing some basics (like high school biology).

I got to thinking: what would I call this body of learning if I were empowered to give myself some kind of formal recognition of it? A Bachelor of Ad Hoc Diagnostics? I can’t help but notice the degree would be shortened to B.AD. That made me laugh. Then I got thinking about what else B.AD might stand for.

Bachelor of Applied Desperation comes to mind. Necessity is the mother of invention, but so is desperation.

I think I’m finally able to press pause on this ongoing degree. I’ve just been cut loose from two different doctors in the past two days. My life is getting simpler again. On to learning something else. Yay!

Recovery Queen

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I call myself the Recovery Queen. Much and all as I don’t want to have to keep being the Recovery Queen, it’s better than not being the Recovery Queen, if you know what I mean.

What does recovery even mean? That’s up to you. Maybe the reason why I’m so good at it is that I keep changing the goal post to something I can achieve!

Anyway, today, two weeks to the day after my latest heart surgery, I got on my bike and rode 26 km with some of my riding friends from Victoria Grandmothers 4 Africa. We ride bikes and raise money for the Stephen Lewis Foundation. I’ve never met a more inspirational group of women. I went on the Tuesday easy ride, which a lot of us use as a recovery ride after our various “issues.” Hips and knees are always getting fixed. We are, after all, the age of grandmothers. And they are so enthusiastic! “Jane! You’re back!” It’s great to see them.

Then, about an hour ago, I talked to an old neighbour in another city. We usually check in around the New Year and I was glad to see her number pop up. She’s about to have a hip surgery and is anxious and scared (understandably). Her dad died a few years ago. I knew him. We always talk about him. She’s worried about the state of the world. Aren’t we all.

I offered a little unasked for advice. Oops. But once I was off the phone, I thought about what I do to help myself recover. How did I become the Recovery Queen?

Well, first of all there is luck, public health care, and a lot of help. Thanks everyone.

As for what I do myself, the most important thing I think is to help other people. When you are at your lowest, help other people. (Do it when you’re fine too.) There are a million ways to help and billions of people to help. Do something every day. Heck, pick up a piece of litter. Be a helper. It helps other people and it always helps you.

Surround yourself with believers, with positive people, with other helpers. My family is that for me. So are my close friends. So are the VG4A queens I ride with. Having said that, they are also realists. False positivity is often a form of gaslighting. You know where the line is and who your people are. Be with the people who are believers. Believers in what? In themselves, in you, in the GOOD, whatever that is for you.

Have something to look forward to. About six months ago, I decided 2026 would include a camping trip I’ve really wanted to take for a long time. Until this last surgery worked, it was more of a wish than a reality. It gave me something to plan for besides my funeral. It’s kind of a tough trip with lots of logistics. Perfect to keep my mind on something positive. And now it looks like I’m actually going.

Do something. Keep busy. If you can’t walk, do something sedentary. The crossword. Knit. Paint. Colour. Read. Listen to audio books. Join a book club. Start a book club. (Ok, enough about books.) But whatever it is you like to do, do it with intention. Do you love watching “Grey’s Anatomy?” Watch it with gusto. Start reading the Reddits. Check out the fanfic. Type the hashtags in to your favourite social media. Get really into whatever you’re into.

Grow something. A houseplant. Micro greens. A friendship.

Learn something. Whatever it is you want to learn, chances are you can make a start at it for free on YouTube or at the library. Track your progress, as in, write it down. (Oct 1, I could only tie one kind of knot. Nov 16, I’ve mastered four knots and am working on a clove hitch next.) Revel in your accomplishment. When people ask you what’s new, tell them what you are learning. “I’m learning to tie knots.” It may be the start of a great conversation.

Be nice to strangers.

When you wake up, think of something you are looking forward to that day. I look forward to seeing this man in a very fancy old-fashioned tweed suit ride his bike past where I live. There’s a dog named Pip who lives near me. I look forward to seeing him. When you go to bed, think about something good that happened during the day. Maybe the frost made a pretty pattern on the window.

I had a teacher once a few years ago, Patricia Lane, who told us all to find awe every day. It’s a good practice. I do it. I was already doing it, thinking of something good that happened in the day. Often it was something beautiful I saw. Maybe I heard a kid giggling. It’s an easy assignment for me because I’m amazed by things that are growing. Even in the sidewalk cracks. Today, I saw four seals. I saw two eagles. I saw Mount Baker snowy in the distance.

That’s enough for now. Please feel free to add a comment on things you do to help you through these tough times. We’re all recovering from something. You are not alone. And we can all be Recovery Queens.

Three grey haired women in bright cycling jackets.

Easy Riders

Look for the Scientists

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As my handful of regular readers already know, I had another heart surgery and it went well. A miracle! I went on a walk today, during which I encountered the beautiful Arbutus tree below. The walk wasn’t that long, but it had a big elevation. I did not know that this is something I would ever be able to do again. I did not lose my breath. I did not have to stop every few steps to let my heart rate fall. I feel like a new person. I have energy.

The surgery is so new. My surgeons brought their time, creativity, skill, enthusiasm, curiosity, hearts, and scientific minds to my case. While all around us, we see and hear anti-science nonsense, good science is still ongoing. It is saving our lives, and (if we let it) is ready to help us keep our earth a livable home for humans, animals, insects, plants and all of life as we know it. Mr. Rogers used to say that when something scary is happening, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” I’m going to say, “Look for the scientists.” They’ve got us. They know what to do.

Beyond my medical team and the giant world of science that is behind them, I’m so grateful to everyone who has kept me alive. This includes all of my friends and loved ones. It also includes every artist I’ve ever encountered in any way. You’ve saved my soul and spirit.

So what will I do now with this new lease on life? I’m going to start writing again. I know it is the way I can help. It might take a while until you read anything new from me, but know I’m working on it.

With gratitude—

An Arbutus Tree, leaning into water behind it, the main trunk partially covered in bright green moss. There is a person emerging from behind it.

Arbutus Tree

Medical Miracles

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I’m home after a successful surgery. A short time ago, a surgery like this was only theoretical. It’s amazing what those doctors and scientists can do! Yay science! I’m incredibly grateful to everyone involved. I’m grateful for their skills and talents and time. And I’m so grateful for their imaginations. They found a better way—a much less invasive way—to fix me.

Thanks for keeping me alive!

Celebrate whatever you celebrate this season with your whole heart. I will too!

Everything Is Rehab!

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Everything I do is rehab. Every walk I take, everything I learn, every time I follow a recipe, every weight I lift, every time I organize my calendar, everything I do on my computer—it’s all rehab. And that’s a good thing.

I’ve recovered pretty well from all that’s happened in the last two years and I’m still recovering from my concussion/brain injury in 2016. I’ll never be my old self, but wishing for that doesn’t help me. It’s nostalgia, wishing for a past that is over and can never be again. 

What I can do is my best. What I can do is be joyfully in the world the way my body and brain will allow. I’ve worked really hard and one reason I’ve been successful is that a long time ago, I decided everything is rehab. Rehab isn’t something I do on top of a normal day—it IS a normal day. It’s a perspective that orients me towards success. A walk is SO good for me. Any walk. A social visit with a walk? It’s gold. A long walk? Amazing. A slow walk? Always. And that’s ok. I look back and remember when I needed a walker. I’ve come a long way. 

What I know for sure is that if you want to keep moving, you have to keep moving. I wish that sounded more profound. 

At the beginning of my brain injury, I struggled with what is called “executive function,” that is thinking through steps, following a pattern, keeping things in order. For example, I couldn’t follow a recipe and was so frustrated. Then I started thinking of cooking as rehab and my whole perspective shifted. It wasn’t something I couldn’t do anymore. It was something I was learning to do again. Sure, there were plenty of bad bakes and not-quite-right meals, but I didn’t take those to heart anymore. I didn’t feel like a failure. Every attempt was a success because I tried.

Knitting and any other hand crafts are a good way for me to learn to concentrate again. Everyone finds their thing.

A key moment was when I stopped berating myself because I couldn’t read well anymore and stopped feeling ashamed of it. To not be able to read was so embarrassing. When I got over it, I was able to try with curiosity instead of dread. I took it one word, one sentence, one paragraph and eventually one page at a time until finally, now, ten years later, I can read a book again. One book at a time.

There’s nothing I can do about my memory though! It’s a struggle for me and everyone I interact with. I forget stuff. Appointments. What you told me five minutes ago. 

I’ve got a list of things to do this week. Keeping a list is vital for me. There are 37 things on it. 37! And I’ve done 26! It’s only Wednesday morning. This was unimaginable to me at several points in the last few years. And writing a blog post wasn’t even on the list!

I’m on the brink of another surgery. Or procedure. What is the difference? Maybe it’s whether or not there will be an incision and a general anaesthetic. I’ll be under a general anaesthetic, but there’s not supposed to be any incisions, so let’s say it’s a big procedure. I’m scared. Again. But I will get through it. And I’ll be rehabbing starting the minute I wake up, from the first step I take to my first walk in the outside world to the next meal I cook, to the next friend I see. I look forward to all of it. It’s all rehab and it’s all life.