Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Bullying”

Can Being Bullied Be A Good Thing?


Over the last few years, especially with my 2011 school board campaign, I had many conversations about bullying in schools.  I have been an advocate for bully prevention forever.  In today’s schools and neighborhoods, I do not believe any level of bullying can be tolerated or treated as a “phase all kids go through.”

Bullying in school is frequently referred to in my daughters’ karate class by their instructor.  He does not teach them to attack bullies, but rather get help or defend.  But if a child must defend themselves, then by all means the child will.  But it was a conversation with a couple of parents that spurred this post.  I was talking to one parent about her son being bullied and how the school district is doing nothing to prevent it.  According to the parent, the child is in an alternative placement along with another student who is frequently physically assaulting her child.  I will not get into specifics of the case because I have only been told one side.  But I will say this.  No child should have their civil rights violated by being physically abused by another student.  If what the parent says is true, that this behavior is repeated, and the school has been notified, and so has the school district that placed both students, then the school is condoning the acts and the district is ignoring the acts, both by simply ignoring the complaints.  This is going to sound harsh, but if no one from the school or the district will control this situation, then the parent should involve the local authorities with formal charges against the bully for assault.

Just then, another parent joins in the conversation and begins to discuss bullying issues that his children have had.  But the father went further by explaining why he would not tolerate behavior like that at all against his children.  He revealed at that moment that he had been frequently abused in school by bullies.  He did not goin into reasons, but the point that he stressed, was the impact that it has had on him as an adult.  Honestly, I have never seen him bust a gut with a laughing fit,  but he has expressed a sense of humor, albeit a dry one.  But he got my attention with what he told me that he did not consider funny.  I will not go into those boundaries, because the point I want to make is how his being bullied as a child has made him the way he is today.

And that got me to thinking.  How did my being bullied in school affect me as an adult?  Quite simply, I do not choose my battles.  I will not back down from anyone for anything.  If I really do not believe in something,  that I am being urged to do or support, I will not, no matter the cost.  It is almost as if, all the crap I took from everyone back in school, I would never put up with any in my adult life, ever.   Having no one stand up for me, I will fight for everyone and everything.  This kind of thinking has not been good for me.  I have lost friends.  Family alienates me.  And there are frequent quarrels with Wendy. 

The majority of my co-workers despise me because I choose to do my job ethically, while they would rather cut corners, work unsafely, just to have hang-around time and socialize or surf the net.  But they are also good at slandering me and making false claims against me.  I do not let them get the upper hand, even if I happen to get in trouble.  I rely on my reputation for my work to speak for me.

Salesman have no chance against me.  Insurance reps, do not even think about ringing my door bell.  You might get away with mixing up my food order.

But my toughness from being bullied I thnk conributed to how I deal with my health.  For starters, I took on my battle with Hodgkin’s Disease never thinking the possibility it would take me.  Recovery from all the side effects was taken on the same way.  I would over come.  My heart surgery, bouts with pneumonia, all recovered under my direction, my determination.  But I get through them because I am so physically tough, a high tolerance for pain.  But that is what is keeping me alive.

I Am A Horrible Caregiver


The truth is out.  I am a horrible caregiver at least by Wendy’s description.  Wendy could not believe her eyes with the first cut that Madison received as I sent Madison to her mother for care instead of my simply just washing it, putting some disinfectant on it, and then a bandaid.  It sounds simple, but it is not, for me.

I have surgery scars all over my body, the biggest being the scar over my chest from the heart surgery.  I have been through cancer and chemotherapy.  Hundreds of needles for bloodtests.  I have even had blood coming from somewhere no man ever wants to see blood.

But show me a papercut and I will hit the floor.

As a patient, I was compliant with whatever the nurses and doctors wanted me to do.  I was called inspirational because I truly wanted to recover, from the cancer, from the heart surgery, and countless other maladies that required a period of rehabilitation.  I am a very proud person.  I am not in the habit of asking for help or assistance.  If I completed tasks before the event on my own, I could to it on my own afterwards.  Nurses were especially supportive while the doctors did the recognizing and congratulating for the efforts.  No one can tell me I cannot do something when I am so focused.

Maybe I was inspired by Rocky in the second movie when Adrian finally wakes up from her coma.  Rocky tells her that he is done fighting, he wants to care for her, and draws him close and repeats, “win, win.”  Mickey yells out, “What are we waiting for?” 

When I went through my recoveries, I know people watched me.  If they knew me, they were inspired by me.  And if theydid not know me, they saw someone fight to get back, what once was.

I take that same approach when the shoe is on the other foot, and I am the caregiver.  With cuts and bruises, I am just pretty much shake it off, get it cleaned up and move on.  But when it is something of a serious level like a heart attack, cancer, or car accident, you have obviously been given a second chance.  And I know what that feels like.  I want you to have that too.  I am not short on empathy, but I have zero supply of pity face to face with the individual.  As far as I am concerned, there is only one time when it is acceptable to give up.  Otherwise you fight.  I will stand by your side and help you, but the sorrow goes away once you are given the order to get well.

My daughters call it being “mean”.  Instead of hugs, and “that’s okay” comfort quotes I am more like Jillian Michaels.  If the doctors have given you the all clear to rehab, then you have no reason not to.  I am telling you, that you have no right to give up.

My cancer diagnosis, heart surgery and my never ending late side effects from my cancer treatments, I have done nothing but look forward.  I want to function.  There is no reason for anyone to have to care for me, except offering me encouragement.

But I have been on the other side of the field more than double the times I was a patient.  A car accident, a crippling illness, surgery.  I will make sure that as a caregiver, that you follow the doctor’s orders.  I will not let you give up.  I will do your grocery shopping for the temporary time, your laundry, and cleaning.  We will go for walks.  I will not let you sit on the couch by yourself, in the dark.   I will be your advocate and help you ask those that you need answers from.  As far as dealing with blood… I do what I have to.

Maybe I am not such a bad caregiver after all.

Stress Kills


Please be warned, this post is definitely not recommended for younger readers.

The following pictures are just one example of what an impending death looks like.  To be more specific, my death.  The top photo was taken after my treadmill was stopped suddenly.  Some event showed up on the EKG leads after just a couple of minutes.  What you see is my heart not getting enough blood.  The question is where and why?

My Death 1

Less than 15 hours later, my cardiologist attempted catheterization, stints, but upon realizing that it was not plaque blocking this artery, but rather scarring from radiation received eighteen years earlier for my cancer.

My Death 2

My Death 3

The last picture, a sketch of the heart, and where my three blockages were.  Another 15 hours later, I was in the operating room, having emergency bypass surgery.

This was only discovered because anytime that I did something fairly physical, anytime I let my emotions get worked up, or let someone upset me and stress me (which happened alot back then), this is what happened to my heart every time.  A blockage of the LAD (the artery on the right side), this is referred to as a “widowmaker”.  The name says it all.  According to my cardiologist, it was not a question of “if ” I would have a fatal heart attack, but “when.”  These pictures are what stress looks like, and what stress can do.

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