Brave Enough To Be Bliss

While I didn’t know it at this point, I would soon learn that when I don’t know how to do something, just adding the word “yet” at the end can be a helpful tool. So I could have said in my mind, “I don’t know how to communicate with him…Yet.”

Similarly, I would learn “ maybe ” can work too.

Maybe… ▪ I’m not going to do very well - maybe I will. ▪ I'm not strong enough for this - maybe I am. ▪ This is going to be miserable - maybe it won't be.

The neuroscience behind this tool is that we feel a dose of hope in our brain when we use the word maybe or yet. It brings a sense of possibility and potential. Hope has been widely researched as a feeling that results in a release of dopamine, which leads to healing, optimism, and happiness in our psyches. Working at the practice turned out to be the best thing Kylee could ever have done. She had excellent nurses overseeing her who taught her great skills and were excellent mentors. She prepped patients for procedures, which gave her great experience interacting with patients, and of course everyone seemed to enjoy her. She was willing to do whatever was asked of her, so she became invaluable in short order. She learned various roles within the practice and was truly a delight, as well as a lifesaver when someone called in sick or we just needed more help. On a daily basis at the office, my direct interaction with her was mostly when she came into my office to get snacks. Kylee had always said she didn’t want do “paperwork” like me and through this experience, she got a much better idea of what all I did. I think by the time she left she realized that there was a lot more than paperwork involved, but that only solidified in her mind she wouldn’t want to follow her mom’s footsteps , which was truly OK. I was just ecstatic when she found out she had been accepted into nursing school and would start in August. Her colleagues hosted a celebration for her before she left, gave her a stethoscope and other gifts, and just generally gave her a wonderful send off. The opportunity to observe her as an employee was an amazing experience and one I’ll always be grateful for. Kylee wanted to move into an apartment by herself when she started nursing school. She found one and we were supportive of her living on her own. She was responsible and she would be able to study and rest completely on her own schedule without any temptat ions to do whatever I was doing. Kylee’s grandparents came over from St. Louis to help move her in and the semester appeared to be off to a good start. Until it wasn’t… Kylee was admitted into an inpatient psychiatric hospital only a couple weeks into school because she wanted to end her life. Apparently, therapists aren’t the only ones who can be convinced she’s OK when she’s not. This is my book, not hers though, so I will stick to sharing the experience from a mother’s and her grandmother’s perspective although there are really no words sufficient to describe the panic that sets in knowing your child wants to die. While I knew the feeling all too well for myself, it jus t wasn’t something a person can ever be prepared for. The depression she experienced in high school had reached a whole new level. I notified her nursing school that she would miss class for a week at least and waited to see what the recommendations were. My lease was ending in October, so I needed to decide what I was doing next. I had been thinking and looking, but when this all came about with Kylee, I decided I wanted her to feel like she had a real home, not just an apartment that feels temporary, so I decided to buy a new row home. Conveniently, my favorite one was the model, so I would be able to close very quickly and get moved in. I really did like living in this part of the city and it happened to be only a couple blocks away from John ’s house. Kylee had been discharged from the hospital and wanted to come look at it, and it was nice to see her taking an interest.

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