VV, I’ll Miss You Forever </3

October 24, 2014 ccandido1 Travel bugs, food, GMO, GMOs, italy, jungle, laundry, life in italy, living in italy, northern italy, passion

As my precious time in Italy has ended, I wanted to compile a list of what I will and won’t miss about living in the most incredible country in the world…

What I’ll Miss:

SECURITY: I have not sensed one ounce of insecurity on anyone; men cross their legs and hug each other, women dress stylishly yet comfortably, and everyone seems to eat and drink what they want (though in much smaller portions!).
SELF-EXPRESSION: Similarly, Italians are edgy! They’re not afraid to express themselves and don’t seem to worry about being judged. They rock crazy hairstyles, outfits, etc. – I give them a lot of credit!
PERSONAL SPACE: There is no such thing as personal space in Italy. Not only do people stand extremely close to each other, but it is also socially acceptable to stare. If someone looks at you too long in the US, it’s seen as confrontational (or, at minimum, creepy). I don’t get “skeeved” easily and I’m a fan of strong eye contact, so I’ll honestly miss these!
CLASS: Italians and Europeans in general are open, yet classy. Neither sex nor nudity is shameful, and they’re typically presented very tastefully. Exception: male speedos on the beach.. nothing tasteful about them. 😐
AFFECTION: Whether you’re an acquaintance, close friend, family member, or lover, you will be greeted with affection in Italy. Even men are affectionate with each other!
RELAXING: Italians relax. All stores close for a few hours in the afternoon, as workers are entitled to a real I can’t tell you how many times I walked a mile to the grocery store just to find it closed! That aside, Italians get way more vacation time a year than we do. Actually, European law mandates that every country offer at least four weeks of paid vacation. Italians work hard, but they take time to rest, reflect, and regroup, as well.. usually in the most incredible spots.
- Note: they even take a break at the movies.
PASSION: Italians are passionate in everything the do – in how they talk, how they love, how they fight, and how the feel in general. It’s so inspiring.
DRIVING: As I’ve written about before, Italians are psychotic on the road. I love it because I’m crazy, too (sorry Dad!), but most of my friends who visited hated it! They drive fast, tailgate hard, never use blinkers, and will pass you in risky situations – like, while scaling a mountain on the Amalfi coast with oncoming traffic quickly approaching risky. It’s absolutely thrilling B-)
CARE: Italians truly take care of each other: the sick, the elderly, the disabled.. and they respect each other. As far as I’ve seen, there’s no stigma on mental health in Italy like there is in the US – not even close!
SOCIALIZATION: Italians socialize and enjoy each other’s company, face-to-face and leisurely. They don’t take their coffee to go – they drink it at the bar. They seldom rush – even the trains take their time! They know there is more to life than working and running. The only time I’ve felt a sense of urgency in Italy was in the left lane on A13.
MARKETS: Italians shop at markets where you can find nearly anything you need. At least in the north, each town has its own market usually one morning per week. VV’s is on Monday and spans over several blocks, featuring clothes, food, accessories, décor, household appliances, and even smaller furniture.. and it’s all cheap! I will miss those markets like crazy.
RECYCLING: It seems as though recycling is HUGE in most of Italy, or at least up north. There are separate bins for paper, plastic, glass, regular garbage, etc. EVERYWHERE. They are hardcore recyclers!
POSING: Has anyone ever noticed that Italians don’t smile in pictures? At least not with their teeth. After some inquiring, I learned the consensus is that people look like bunnies when they smile with their teeth. I’ve yet to master the Italian photo pose, but practicing it continues to crack me up.
FOOD: I think it goes without saying that I’ll miss the food in Italy, but not only because of how delicious it is. I’ve eaten more here than I ever have at home, but my body is probably in the best shape it’s ever been (even better than when I was in my prime at a youthful 19). All 20 regions of Italy are against the cultivation of GMOs; the country is fiercely concerned with the quality of its products, and it shows. I’m eating a ton, but eating well and healthy. It also helps that Italians walk/cycle everywhere, and elevators are few and far between. Endless stairs, my butt thanks you. :-*

What I Won’t Miss:

LAUNDRY: I will not miss doing laundry in Italy even a little bit. Washing machines have literally 30 different settings on average, and dryers don’t exist. My balcony is covered and gets a limited amount of sun exposure, plus I live in a valley between the Dolomites so there’s always rain and humidity. My clothes, therefore, take days to dry; once the ~3 hour wash cycle is complete, I hang them outside and pray for good weather.
BUGS: Italians don’t put screens on their windows, so there are no bug barriers. This country is a jungle. When I first moved into my apartment, there were flies and spiders everywhere and I even had a lizard roommate. I put so much pesticide in this studio that I should be dead. However, I do admire how carefree Italians are when it comes to bugs; everyone just coexists.. I’ll be having a conversation with my landlord on our balcony and be cringing as gnats are swarming and she won’t even flinch. What are we so worried about, anyway?! (JK bugs, I’m still scared so please don’t follow me home)
- Roomie:
POST OFFICE: I’ve read horror stories about the Italian postal system, and they’re all f’ing true. First of all, as much as I’ve praised the Italians for not rushing, I’m all about tracking my packages online and impatiently awaiting their arrival. Tracking is unreliable and packages are not delivered if you aren’t home when carriers arrive. To pick them up, you have to go to the post office, pick a number (like when you’re at a deli), and wait to be called. Italians apparently take off work when they need to go to the post office because that’s how long the process takes. My first experience ended in being told I had to return the next day after waiting nearly two hours because my package was “special.” It was a book. 😐

A Dignified Life

October 16, 2014 ccandido1 Print a dignified life, alzheimer's, best friends, caregiver, dementia

I am too in love with this book! A Dignified Life: The Best Friends Approach to Alzheimer’s Care is absolutely incredible. I must admit that I am biased, though, as its suggestions nearly mirror my own therapeutic approach to geriatric caregiving. The authors describe a refreshing, respectful, mutually beneficial caregiver/patient relationship that fosters trust and relieves anxieties. Aside from being extremely well-written, its combination of anecdotes and recommendations offer hope and strengthen optimisim.

Making Out With Mr. Reaper

October 4, 2014 ccandido1 Travel death, dolomites, dolomiti, french kissing, ghiacciaio, glacier, glacier crossing, horrifying, making out, nike shox, sorapis, sorapiss, sticks, trekking

Born and raised in suburban New Jersey, I have never been familiar with or a fan of strenuous outdoor activities. I love any body of water, am a certified SCUBA diver, and have my boating license, but before traveling abroad I’d never stepped foot on a mountain or spent any considerable amount of time exercising outside. I don’t even like exercising inside, let alone in the woods – give me sand, but keep the grass.

Here in Italy, however, “trekking” is huge. What exactly is trekking, though? I have always naively assumed it to be “hiking,” or walking briskly up a clearly defined, easily navigable trail to a viewpoint. Trekking attire, I’d imagined, consists of leggings, UnderArmour, and colorful sneakers. I often see Italians using sticks (?! canes maybe?! who knows), but figured perhaps those trekkers had equilibrium imbalances to begin with. I’m 26; I can trek without the stick.

This past week, I learned the hard way what this trekking actually entails. After reading the few articles I could find about getting to Lake Sorapiss in the Dolomites, I excitedly told my friend Chrissy to pack sneakers for an easy walk to a beautiful hidden gem. Specifically, I referred to this excerpt on Dolomiti.it:

“From Passo Tre Croci, 1,45 hours; sign n. 215: from the Passo go downhill, towards Misurina. Enter the comfortable road on the right that after few ups and downs will lead to the Rifugio Vandelli, and from here to the lake.”

Perfetto, facciamo così! It said it’d take an hour and 45 minutes, but we’re two young, relatively in-shape girls – we’d for sure make it in just over an hour. Should I even put my hair up? It sounds like I won’t even sweat…?

At Passo Tre Croci, we parked our Fiat500 and prepped for our adventure: I tied my neon pink Nike Shox and threw my coat in the back seat (it was sunny!), while Chrissy zipped her leather jacket and put some euros in her Chanel. We didn’t drink, we didn’t stretch, and we certainly did not pack supplies or carry sticks. We were ready! 😀

Long story short, the trek was an f’ing nightmare. We scaled the Dolomite mountains, climbed iron ladders, clutched steel ropes, and kissed death on the lips. None of that compares to the most terrifying part of our journey, though: WE CROSSED AN F’ING GLACIER. A glacier. Un ghiacciaio. A large body of ice moving slowly down a slope or valley or spreading outward on a land surface, according to Merriam Webster.

At first, we had no idea what it was. How beautiful! We’ve stumbled across some large white structure.. Maybe stone? Granite? We’re in the Dolomites, isn’t there lots of granite? Once we approached this gorgeous mass and I was able to touch it, though, I realized it was a snowy, icy, slippery, freezing-cold glacier. How fun, we get to cross a glacier!!!

For those unfamiliar with glacier crossing techniques and equipment, this website serves as an incredibly helpful resource. Apparently, those sticks are useful, and my Shox are a joke when it comes to this kind of terrain. Glacier walks are extremely dangerous and require not only advanced equipment, but a certain degree of experience or, at minimum, an accompanying guide. Nevermind the initial peck on the lips – death’s tongue was down our throats.

Three hours and two panic attacks later, we arrived at Lake Sorapiss, one of the most stunning natural phenomena I have ever seen IRL. We were able to have a quick coffee at Rifugio Vandelli before hurriedly beginning our trek back to Passo Tre Croci to beat the sunset. I will refrain from describing our return trip over il ghiacciaio, as I’m truthfully not ready to revisit it. Let’s just say that if it’s soon announced that either of us is knocked up, we know who the father is: Mr. Grim Reaper himself.

All of that being said, Sorapiss is totally worth it.. as long as you are not a member of my family or a friend who’d like me to join you. In any other case, go for it! Just please, for the love of God our Savior, bring a stick.

In Love and War

October 4, 2014December 26, 2014 ccandido1 Travel a farewell to arms, ernest hemingway, for whom the bell tolls, in love and war, italy, sandra bullock, the sun also rises, travel, vittorio veneto, world war i

As two weeks of playing tour guide to friends winds down, I finally have some time to sit and reflect on what’s gone on lately. It was brought to my attention that an American movie was filmed in my tiny town of Vittorio Veneto in the 1990s, so I of course had to immediately rent it on iTunes. In Love and War takes place during the First World War and documents Ernest Hemingway’s experiences as a Red Cross volunteer. Apparently, he was injured and fell in love with one of his nurses during recovery. Their relationship unfortunately did not work out ( why couldn’t the movie just pretend?! 😦 ), and it is said that Hemingway remained forever heartbroken over his first love, Agnes von Kurowsky.

The film is so incredibly cool to watch because I live in the heart of its setting and it hasn’t changed a bit. Being a historic town, VV looks as though it did during both World Wars (or at least extremely close to it). After playing In Love and War on repeat and sulking about the breakup, I began researching “Ernie” and pulling together some of my favorite quotes of his.

“There is nothing else than now. There is neither yesterday, certainly, nor is there any tomorrow. How old must you be before you know that? There is only now, and if now is only two days, then two days is your life and everything in it will be in proportion. This is how you live a life in two days. And if you stop complaining and asking for what you never will get, you will have a good life. A good life is not measured by any biblical span.” – found in For Whom the Bell Tolls

“Try to learn to breathe deeply, to really taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, to really sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good & angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.”

“Out of all the things you could not have, there were some things that you could have.. & one of those was to know when you were happy, and to enjoy all of it while it was there and it was good.”

“Life is unpredictable; it changes with the seasons. Even your coldest winter happens for the best of reasons. And though it feels eternal, like all you’ll ever do is freeze, I promise spring is coming, and with it brand new leaves.”

“You talk like a timetable. Did you have any beautiful adventures?” – found in A Farewell to Arms

“Worry a little bit every day and in a lifetime you will lose a couple of years. If something is wrong, fix it if you can. But train yourself not to worry. Worry never fixes anything.”

“I can’t stand to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it.” – found in The Sun Also Rises

“Live the full life of the mind, exhilarated by new ideas, intoxicated by the romance of the unusual.”

As I’m sure is apparent, the excerpts I’ve shared are all related in that they have to do with living and appreciating life. Hemingway, though perhaps broken and in pain (he married four times and eventually took his own life), certainly offered great advice about living. In the scheme of things, our time on Earth is so excruciatingly short.. to worry serves no purpose, to wait is ludicrous, and to simply exist is one of the saddest ways to spend your days.

Surviving Alzheimer’s

September 24, 2014 ccandido1 Print

I’ve quoted a lot of Paula Spencer Scott, so it’s about time I review her book Surviving Alzheimer’s: Practical Tips and Soul-Saving Wisdom for Caregivers. The advice included in this helpful paperback draw from various sources in the field, as well as from personal experience. Despite a good amount of spelling/grammatical errors and a messy layout that can be a bit all “over the place,” it’s definitely been a helpful resource. Find it on Amazon here.

No Prescription Necessary

September 24, 2014December 17, 2014 ccandido1 Passion alzheimer's, closeness, dementia, intimacy, naomi feil, paula spencer scott, richard taylor, validation therapy

Although I’ve been here for nearly two months, most of my friends still crack jokes about the “work” I’m doing (or lack thereof). They affectionately laugh at how when I cry my eyes out on my last day, the patients will have no clue who I am or how long I’ve been with them. How much of an impact can I really have on those suffering from this disease while I’m here in Italy? Even my former boss, whom I admire, adore, and miss every day, asked before I left, “Won’t they just come up with a pill for that eventually?” My efforts, though maybe not entirely useless, couldn’t possibly make any lasting impressions or meaningful advancements.

I can’t blame them. Our world today revolves around pills, no matter the method of obtainment or administration; the stigma is on counseling, not prescriptions. “After all, you don’t go to the doctor for advice, you go to the doctor for a pill. Roots, fruits, and exercise don’t cure diseases – pills do. If you are sad and don’t want to be, take a pill. If you want to be happier, take a pill, or quicker yet, snort one, or the quickest of all is to inject it right into a vein. Pills, pills, pills.” Dr. Taylor’s sadly right.

Believe me, I’m not anti-meds – I have ovarian cysts and I’d sell my soul for a painkiller if I didn’t have one on me during a rupture (TMI?!). To have a pill that would reverse or halt the effects of Alzheimer’s would be beyond incredible, but for now it simply doesn’t exist. Discovering some miracle tablet isn’t that simple, either:

“The truth is that we do not know nearly as much as we think we do about how and why the ‘normal’ brain works. We have some ideas. We have some tests. We have some medications that seem to change behavior by changing the chemistry in the brain. How or why they work is, again, a matter of speculation. We don’t fully understand the chemistry in the first place. How can we figure out what is wrong when we can’t explain what is right?” – Dr. Taylor

According to Paula Spencer Scott, “It’s been 10 years since the newest FDA drug was approved. Even current medications for memory are modest in their impact.” She points out, however, that socialization is treatment for Alzheimer’s disease:

“Boredom is the enemy. If nothing is going on, it often leads to the challenging behaviors that we see – agitation, aggression, crying, wandering.”

I can’t offer a magic pill, but I can provide companionship. I can foster intimacy, closeness, and comfort. We are social by nature, and it is essential for human beings to regularly experience emotional intimacy in order to develop and maintain good mental health. Though of course to only a certain degree, I can empathetically cross the border into Alzheimer’s land:

“When people are very old and deteriorated, no one enters their world – they’re often just sitting there. They will withdraw inward more and more, their desperate need for connection all inside. Here’s a person who has worked his or her whole life, contributing their whole life, who needs that connection again to feel a sense of worth. They’re longing for closeness.

Validation is a way of communicating with very old people who have Alzheimer’s-type dementia. It restores a feeling of dignity and self worth. It’s a way of being with them, feeling what they feel. You pick up their emotions and reflect them back. People who are validated feel safe.” –Naomi Feil

When I laugh with my friends at my own expense, I’m comforted in the fact that I see improvements every single day. Even if you think you’re not making an impact, you are. Don’t ever feel as though your presence, forgotten or not, doesn’t matter. The mood boost of having seen you can in and of itself be huge; “your loved one may not know why she feels happy (from seeing you) but she does. Your presence is cheering, comforting, and de-stressing. A rose is still a rose, and smells as sweet, even if you don’t know what that pretty pink fragrant thing that cheers you up is called.” – Paula Spencer Scott

Conversational in Italian, Fluent in Pavarotti

September 17, 2014December 17, 2014 ccandido1 Passion alzheimer's, italy, music, musictherapy, nonna, nonni, nonno, pavarotti, therapy

Since I recently left the kennel ( </3 ), I’ve decided to update my resume to be sure it’s reflective of where I’m at now. I have a “Skills” section at the bottom where I mention that I’m “Conversational in Italian,” and I’m impatiently waiting for the day that I can confidently change it to “Fluent.” I probably have a solid 10 years before I’m close, so Conversational is staying for now. I am, however, tempted to include “Fluent in Pavarotti” below my subpar Italian skills, and I have my loves and this trip to thank for that.

According to Paula Spencer Scott:

“The arts have an amazing power to reach people with dementia. When rational language begins to erode, symbolic emotional communication remains. That is what art is, symbolic emotional communication – sharing a vision of the world through gestures, words, sounds, images. Shared communication of any kind can bring people suffering from loneliness and isolation into community.”

She goes on to specify that “lyrics can stay in the brain even after language skills are lost; music can be a real source of joy.” How nuts, right?! We’ve all of course experienced this to some degree – an old favorite pops up on shuffle and we’re able to excitedly recite every word. Songs often evoke memories, too. I always make playlists for my trips so that when I’m home, I can be reminded of that vacation and how it made me feel.

If it hasn’t been apparent already, I truly value and appreciate what Dr. Taylor writes in his essays (being that he is battling Alzheimer’s himself):

“Singing something, anything, from children’s songs to hymns, from the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s Messiah (I can still recall the first note for tenors) to any and all Beatles songs, helps me feel that I am feeling okay and, in fact, good.”

It’s no secret that music is an incredible therapeutic tool. My only dilemma initially was that I am not, in fact, a ninety-something year old nonna; I didn’t grow up here, I understand next to nothing when I hear different dialects, and the closest thing I’m familiar with to an old Italian song is “Dominick the Donkey.” While my site doesn’t offer formal music therapy, a few patients are avid (and loud) singers. I began to decipher as much of what they were belting out as I could, then searched Google for the rest of the lyrics and to find the title. The clouds parted and God presented Luciano Pavarotti, one of the most successful operatic tenors of all time. Thankfully for me, he’s covered almost every top hit amongst my audience.

Our day to day has changed. While not a music therapist, I am a self-proclaimed Pavarotti cover artist and enthusiast. My laptop speakers blare songs with all their might, and w e g o n u t s; we f’ing scream those lyrics, thanks in part to the advice of Dr. Taylor:

“It is best to sing out loud and loudly. Thinking about singing is like thinking about sex. It is much, much more satisfying if done with all of your body instead of just between your ears. It is much, much more satisfying if others can and do join in.”

What has this incorporation of music done besides wake our neighbors? It’s allowed us to let loose, have fun, and simply enjoy each other. A loud singer is a lot less aggravating to others if they themselves have joined in too. It has also, and most importantly, facilitated communication and elevated mood. There are nonnas who I actually believed to be unable to speak that have since blossomed into some of the most caring, outgoing, and affectionate patients that I have the pleasure of loving every day. One in particular hadn’t smiled or spoken once in the weeks that I’d known her; I had ignorantly assumed her to be either shy or too far cognitively impaired to converse. She is one of my most passionate (and vocal!) back-up singers today, and she does not stop hugging, kissing, or smiling.

I cannot forget my nonnos, some of whom can often be particularly cranky (am I the only person who adores cranky old men?!). One of my favorites enjoys sharing stories about his hometown (my Roma ❤ ) but becomes more forgetful and likely disinterested when in an unfavorable mood. Though not a singer himself, after our concerts he is without fail more cheerful and able to recall that which he had difficulty remembering only hours before. It is truly remarkable what music can do. Grazie Pavarotti ❤

*note: our fav https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UNmT7UswM7E

Can I Still be the “Kennel Girl” ?! Please

September 10, 2014December 17, 2014 ccandido1 Passion alzheimer's, dementia, nonna, nonni, nonno, respect, role, role confusion, role reversal

I know I nonchalantly mention in my “About Me” that I quit my job to come here like it was an easy, almost impulsive decision, but I totally played it down to sound like a baller. It was honestly one of the hardest things I’ve ever done and I cried like a baby. Just this weekend, I woke myself up in the middle of the night because I was dreaming of the kennel and crying so hard that I actually began sobbing IRL. Poor me, leaving my job where I’d get peed on regularly to move to Italy, right?!

There’s so much more to it than that, though. I worked at Hal Wheeler’s for seven years; I grew there. Within that time, I graduated college, went out (and broke up) with my first real boyfriend, attended grad school, watched my parents separate and divorce, moved three times, struggled with figuring out what I wanted to do with my life…I became more of who I am today, and much of my identity was shaped around and influenced by my years there. Hal’s wasn’t just my job, but part of who I was – I snuck my phone number to worried customers and chatted with them late-night so that they’d feel better about leaving their pups (sorry Mike! My boss hated this!!), I took pictures and videos to assure that they were safe, and I kissed and cuddled with them as if they were my Maxi ❤ so that everyone felt more at ease. I was the “kennel girl,” and I cared so deeply about those dogs and their parents.

Though it’s more than a quarter of my life, seven years is nothing compared to the time my patients have spent investing in and growing from their roles, professional and otherwise. I can’t imagine how much more of a baby I’d be had I hit the ten-year mark, let alone something like forty. I honestly feel sad when I think about my replacement and how now if I leave Max to go away she’ll be sending me pictures and talking me down from the ledge that is my irrational nervousness. I cannot begin to fathom, then, the emotions that must be sparked in the face of role confusion (and often reversal) after so many years of perfecting one’s identity.

“Everyone needs a philosophy of life. Mental health is based on the tension between what you are and what you think you should become. You should be striving for worthy goals. Emotional problems arise from being purposeless.” – Viktor Frankl

Frankl’s right, and there is no expiration date on what he said. Imagine being treated as a child by your kids and supervised like an entry-level intern in your own home. Picture having your words spoken for you and a constant presence over your shoulder, for reasons foreign and unfathomable to you. Imagine!! I’m sick at the thought, and I’m only 26; the nonnas and nonnos probably laugh with each other at my so-called independence and unwavering sense of self (lovingly, of course).

Dr. Taylor, a father and former professor, stresses in his essays:

“Actually, what I need is to feel that I am still taking care of something. Something that returns love, that gives itself away without expecting anything back…”

David Troxel reiterates:

“People with dementia still need to feel productive – arranging flowers, sorting and organizing, folding clothes, hammering nails. When my mother was in assisted living, I’d keep rolls of wrapping paper, bows, and supplies in her room. I kept buying new things for her to help me wrap – for a friend, I’d tell her. She had so much fun, picking the paper, holding the ribbon while I tied the bow…

I’d bring my mom half a dozen dress shirts and neckties, and ask for her help. She loved matching the shirts with the best neckties. It’s empowering to feel you have a say in things.”

I see this constantly; nonnas especially love to offer input and provide assistance. After all, they’ve run the show for far longer than I’ve attempted to, and there’s much to be learned from them and their experiences. It is because of this (and so many other reasons) that I approach each patient not with the attitude that they require my help, but that ours is a mutually beneficial relationship. I admire them outwardly and without shame, seeking guidance and offering praise for even the most trivial tasks. I look up at them when we are talking, not down, and kiss their hands when we’re not. I speak properly (Lei, not tu) and show respect. Most importantly, I embrace, encourage, and solicit their guidance and their nurturance, as it has been not only their “job” to provide them but part of who they are for so, so many years.

[Awkward] Silence

September 9, 2014September 9, 2014 ccandido1 Passion active listening, alzheimer's, embrace silence, flat affect, group therapy, irvin yalom, silence, yalom

Upon being accepted to grad school, I remember immediately mapping out my schedule for the next year and a half to start prepping for what was ahead (I’m a full blown nerd, I know). There were course titles that grabbed my attention, like Psychopathology and Human Development, and naturally some that did not, like Group Counseling. Truthfully, my disdain for Group was rooted in pure ignorance; though I’d interned in the field as an undergrad, I had never actually witnessed or participated in group sessions; any assumptions I made about its effectiveness (& fun-ness =P) were without basis.

As it often turns out, Group ended up being one of the best classes I’ve ever taken. In addition to teaching me a ton, it was actually very therapeutic (I miss my T-Group!). I pitifully confess that my most dreaded course has even proven to be one of the most valuable in my current practice with Alzheimer’s patients. Like a puppy with its tail between its legs, I admit defeat and surrender to the pro-Group team – thank you Dr. Burkholder! 😉

One of the concepts I am most grateful to have practiced in Group is that of embracing silence. As an outgoing, chatty, 20-something girl (not ready to admit I’m almost 30 and a “woman” :-O stick with “girl” for me please), this was painfully uncomfortable. I don’t know if it’s an American thing, but I feel as though we typically find silence to be awkward. Whether face-to-face, talking on the phone, or exchanging texts, a longer-than-usual pause drives us crazy; even if we’ve spoken the last word, we’re compelled to fill that cringe-worthy gap.

Sometimes, however, our fillers do more harm than good; interruptions are quieting, but silence inviting. I had the pleasure of watching the king of Group Therapy himself, Dr. Irvin Yalom, in action (on YouTube, at least). I remember taking notes in class and being surprised at how nonresponsive he seemed, both verbally and nonverbally. What kind of group leader was this so-called expert?! Even when there were pauses, he embraced the silence and allowed members to speak up when ready, which they did (he’s a sneaky one!). I grew to realize the importance of making a conscious effort to be an active listener and not attempt to fill conversational voids.

Dr. Taylor, who I’ve mentioned in previous posts and who is battling the effects of Alzheimer’s himself, has said:

“Answers to my questions which are provided by others sound and feel to me like the answerer didn’t understand my question. Most people offer answers to their own questions, not mine…Perhaps too much time is spent trying to answer and question each other, when what I really need is to feel like I am being heard. I know you don’t have all the answers. You also don’t have all the questions! Neither do I! And the unanswerable questions keep coming and coming with each new symptom of the disease.”

It’s often common practice to repeat questions to patients who have yet to offer a response. Usually, such recurrences differ only in volume or tone; we’ll ask the exact same question again, only louder as if it wasn’t heard and with more force as patience wears thin. There seems to be a direct correlation between response time and angst, no matter the conversers!

“My family will ask me to do something, and I don’t do it. Early in the disease process, they assumed I didn’t hear them. They would tell me again. This got old after a while. They became annoyed at having to tell me the same thing over and over again. Later on, they realized there was a possibility that my twisted brain fibers actually didn’t understand their words.” – Dr. Taylor

As the semester progressed and I myself acted as a leader, I was delighted to recognize my first Yalom moment: I had welcomed a silent pause in one group member’s testimony, which led her to elaborate and share more deeply. Had I quickly tried to fill that gap, I would have interrupted her thought and she may not have continued. Similarly, I’ve worked with patients here who have mastered the ultimate awkward silence: they’ve frozen. Their affects have turned flat, their eyes glazed over, and I swear for a minute they’ve actually stopped breathing. Before I wipe the sweat from my forehead and the color is drained from my face, though, they surprise me and respond; my patience is rewarded and the painful reluctance to intervene pays off.

Touché Yalom, touché.

Driving in Italy

September 9, 2014 ccandido1 Travel automatic, driving, italy, manual, travel

Though I’m a CartaFreccia member and swear by TrenItalia, I must admit that I’m partial to having a car in Italy. If not staying in or exploring a city, I love having the freedom to pull over wherever and take in the incredible sights seen right from the Autostrade. My friend Natalie and I are notorious for waking up in the morning, looking at our iPhone maps, and choosing a place that sounds cool to visit that day! It’s actually how we discovered Portofino, one of our favorite spots on the Italian Riviera.

Driving in Italy, however, is of course different from driving at home in the US; it’s more fun 😉

Luckily, one thing that remains the same is the side of the road Italians drive on
- No need to make adjustments there! They’re on the right side, like us
The majority of cars (probably like 95%, with the remaining 5% reserved for tourists) are stick-shift, not automatic (o Dio)
- If you’re renting, be sure to specify that you need automatic and not manual!
They’re also much tinier than our cars, and at least attempt to be more fuel efficient
- You may notice that your car turns off when you come to a full stop at a red light or to pay a toll. This happens automatically to preserve gas, and it’ll turn back on once you let your foot off the brake
Speaking of tolls, they can be paid in one of three ways: Telepass (their version of our EZ-Pass), in cash, or with credit/debit cards
- In many cases, you’ll pull up to a tollbooth and take a ticket
  - Before you exit the highway, you’ll go through another tollbooth where you’ll insert your ticket and be given the price you’re required to pay
  - Though there are illustrations to help, if you’re paying with a credit card look for “CARTE” on the signs up top to know which lane to stay in
- You won’t see many cops on the road, but Italians are definitely [sneakily] watching your speed!
  - There are cameras all over, so be sure to stay at a reasonable speed or you’ll come home to a speeding ticket in the mail! I get one every single time I’m here… you’d think I’d have learned by now (sorry Dad!!)!
- Their road signs are different than ours, so it can be confusing to decipher what’s a one-way, where you can and cannot park, etc. Some of the more important ones include:
  - and may look like “Do Not Enter,” but they actually signify “No Parking” and “No Stopping,” respectively
  - means “Do Not Enter,” whereas denotes “Restricted Access”
    - Natalie and I have also gotten tickets in the mail months later for driving in restricted areas in Rome, so this would have been helpful to know!
  - is “One-Way Traffic”
  - When headed into town/a city, you’ll see signs like these to indicate where the center (“Centro”) is (probably where you’re looking to go!) as well as the main train station (Stazione)
  - Luckily, their stop signs are the same as ours
- As with everywhere else on Earth aside from the United States, Italy uses the metric system
  - Distances are given in meters/kilometers, as is speed/speed-limit signs (km/hr)
    - 1km/hr is a little more than half a mile per hour, so if you’re driving 100km/hr you’re going about 62miles/hr
  - Just as Jersey loves jughandles, Italians are all about traffic circles
    - They’re everywhere!
  - They also love driving fast in the left lane
    - I have a heavy foot and love being number one on the road (especially on the Parkway), but Italians take it to an entirely different level
    - If you’re driving in the left lane and are not going well above the speed limit, they will tailgate and flash you with zero hesitation
      - It is considered extremely rude and unnecessary to stay in the left if you aren’t going very fast, so your safest bet is to stay out of that lane
      - Don’t expect dirty looks or middle fingers as they pass, though – this is simply common practice and etiquette on Italian roadways (so don’t take it personally) 🙂
    - Passing is common even in residential areas and on smaller roads
      - It is acceptable to move into the lane for oncoming traffic (if all clear, of course) to pass the person in front of you if you’re traveling faster than them
      - Italians have no fear! I’ve seen this done on windy, narrow, cliff-scaling roads along the Amalfi Coast as if it was nothing
    - AutoGrills can be found all over when driving on the highway/Autostrade
      - They’re awesome rest stops that are similar to our 7-11s but better
      - If you’re hungry or need coffee, they have tons of amazing snacks in addition to a “bar” with coffee, drinks, sandwiches, etc.