Day 6: Each Hour

Today was my first real day back to work.  I have gone in 4 times since my "vacation", but each trip to the office was short and sweet; I did what I needed to do and went back home.  I had only done 1 home visit and 1 group in those 4 days. Today I had scheduled 5 home visits. Today I did not do 5 home visits.

For those of you who don't know a lot about my job I will give you a quick run down.  I work for an Early Intervention program.  Early Intervention works with children between birth and three-years-old who have development delays, diagnoses, and/or are at risk for delays.  We evaluate children and if they qualify for services we begin seeing them at home, at daycare, etc., for about an hour each week.  Our goal is to help caregivers incorporate strategies into their day-to-day lives that will help facilitate their child's/children's development.  We also run groups at our center: parent-child groups, child-only groups, and smaller groups that focus on specific aspects of development.  If you've read my previous posts you know that I love my job.  I enjoy meeting new families and I especially enjoy watching and helping children gain new skills.  There are certainly challenges that come from the actual work and from the logistics of going into people's homes, driving all over MetroWest, and juggling the ever-changing paperwork.  Despite all of that, I was very excited last night to get back into the swing of things.

This morning I woke up early enough to actually eat breakfast, watch the news, and feed my dog.  I typically just make it out of the door in time, and leave the dog's food in his bowl and hope he eats it at some point during the day.  Last night I was feeling a little anxious, and I suspected it was due to my pending "full return" to the job.  This morning all of those jitters seemed to have subsided after a somewhat restful night's sleep.  It also helped that I walked myself through the entire day before falling asleep last night, and I couldn't think of any impending disasters.  I had scheduled 2 IFSP meetings, 1 IEP meeting, and a co-treat with another therapist.  Basically all of those acronyms mean a day full of paperwork-type visits; in my job those are the easier visits to manage.  I left the house this morning with a clear head and ready to get done what needed to get done.  

I made it about 12 miles (of the 13.3 MapQuest tells me the drive should have taken), and all of my confidence, excitement, and eagerness fell to my anxiety.  By the time I pulled up to the apartment building I was in a full-blown panic attack.  

I made the right decision to drive to my office, and luckily my director found someone else to do my first visit.  It gave me some time to calm down.  I used some of the techniques I'd been learning - holding an ice pack, breathing, talking to someone - and within 25 minutes I was feeling better.  I certainly wasn't feeling great, but I would say on a scale of 1 to FULL-BLOWN-PANIC, I was about a 5.  During the next 90 minutes I busied myself with paperwork, talked to a few more people, and by the time I left the office I was feeling much better.  The frustration of having to cancel 2 visits lingered for most of the day, but even now those feelings are fading.

As I was waiting to go into my last visit of the day I started thinking about what a difference a few hours can make.  At the start of my day I was happy, stress-free, and ready to conquer my first day back.  The next few hours were awful - anxiety-filled, physically sick, frustrated.  As the day progressed I started feeling better, so the last few hours of my work day were great.  Now, as I'm writing this, I can't believe how many emotions I felt in the past 12 hours.  

My sister-in-law gave me great advice about working in Early Intervention - "You can do anything for an hour." What she meant by that was, even the most challenging visits are only 60 minutes out of a whole day - you can do anything for an hour, and then move on to the next thing.  I didn't realize how that advice would eventually translate into all aspects of my life.

Today I was living for each hour.  Once I realized I was having a panic attack ,I was able to talk myself through most of it.  I started thinking about the day in terms of hours versus looking at my whole schedule and getting more overwhelmed.  Once I decided/needed to cancel my first two visits I had nowhere to be until 11am.  I knew I had an hour and a half at the office, so I focused on that small amount of time.  That's how I got through most of the day.  One hour at a time - a simplified version of AA's saying, "One Day At A Time."  I made it through my day.

I am grateful, beyond grateful, that each day is filled with 24 hours.  While I am asleep for a great portion of those hours, I am still left with at least 15 hours each day.  Some of those hours may be awful - a visit that didn't go as planned, a flat tire, or a panic attack; some of those hours will go by without my even thinking about it; and still, some of those hours will be spent smiling and laughing - talking with my friends, helping a child take his first steps, or watching TV at the end of a busy day with my husband.  I am grateful for each of those hours.  The lousy ones are the hardest to get through, and, if I am being completely honest, some of those hours don't stop after 60 minutes - the anxiety remains and the frustration doesn't go away because the hands on the clock turn from 2:59pm to 3:00pm.  But there are more days filled with the better hours, the ones I don't want to end.  I know the bad feelings won't last forever, even though in the moment it certainly feels that way.  If I can remind myself of how grateful I am for each hour, I will remember that at 8:00am I might be stressed beyond belief, but by 10:30am or even 9:00am I may be smiling and laughing again.  

I am grateful that over the course of a day an hour can make all the difference.  And really, I can do anything for an hour.