Traumatic Growth & Life Changes

It has been a hard five months. In September my mom had brain surgery to put in a shunt to treat normal pressure hydrocephalus. Then I lost a dear and older friend in the Gay community to cancer (we have so few older gay Men: the Reagan Administration’s handling of HIV, and AIDS largely to blame for that). That same night I found out that one of my family members has cancer, and another is fighting the same kind of cancer that my Aunt Teri passed away from. My Aunt Teri is one of the biggest reasons I became a Social Worker.

I went to the hospital with symptoms of a heart attack (thankful that it came back clear). We had to help my dog, Wiley, across the rainbow bridge. Mom had two E.R. trips in rapid succession, the second was a seizure which saw her in the Neuro E.R. for a few days, before she came home for at home rehab with Neuro O.T. and Neuro P.T. I took a leave of absence from work to take care of Mom and drive her to her rehab appointments.

I also passed my LCSW exam, and somehow managed to get a 4.0 in my doctoral program. Two days after my LCSW exam, mom wound up in the hospital again, after I found her (once again) non-responsive on her bed. Four days unconscious in the Neuro E.R., I can’t recall how many days on the Neuro Floor…we got the diagnosis of moderate/severe dementia.

I have been in full swing ever since: coordinating medical, insurance, financial, mental health, etc. in order to get Mom into a safe memory care unit.

In therapy we call this “traumatic growth.” These moments that are harder than iron, and sharper than diamonds, that mold us, that change us, that educate us. They are often cairns, or markers, on our lifepath.

I realized that I needed to slow down. I have literally been running my entire life (literally before I could walk).

So it was with incredible sadness that I turned in my letter of resignation to Horizon Health Today. My last day of work is on February 14, 2022 (when I come back from my leave of absence – there is still a LOT of work to get done between now and then for Mom’s transition and care).

I can’t say enough positive things, in any of the languages that I speak, about Horizon. It has been among the greatest honors of my life to work at, work with, learn from, and grow with Horizon. I would not be the counselor that I am without them.

As I start my next journey I look forward to parting as friends and maintaining a relationship with Horizon: whether as an outside instructor, or – at the very least – Horizon and the Bailey Team’s biggest cheerleader and champion in the community.

So what’s next? I meant what I said when I wrote about the “Death” of Private Practice. Agency practice has brain trust. The patients’ benefits and outcomes are currently incomparable. There are also downsides (it takes a LOT of energy, caseloads are high because they must be, your schedule isn’t your own, it’s rapid pace which has not gone unnoticed on my body, as I continue to work with my own physical disabilities).

To that end, I am pivoting my doctoral research to find a balance between agency, group, and private practice (what I am currently calling “Networked Communities of Practice”) to create a new model that is both financially and humanly sustainable, that can meet or exceed agency outcomes for patients in terms of achieving their goals and access to other kinds of service providers. We must fight back against burnout experienced by social workers and others in the helping professions, especially as we enter our third year of the ‘new normal.’

I am thankful for a friend and colleague (an incredible attorney) who is helping me setup my practice. I will be empaneled with United Healthcare, Oxford, Oscar, Aetna, Cigna, and Blue Cross/Blue Shield within the next thirty days. I have also partnered with the Open Path Psychotherapy Collective in order to provide affordable services for those without insurance coverage.

More to come.

For now, I am going to make a cup of tea, turn on some music, and slow down, and give myself permission to do and think nothing at all, but to just watch the winter evening and just notice…just breathe.