Sunday, March 19, 2017

Too Much of a Good Thing: Sensory Overload

I didn’t go to church today. I know my church family is totally confused. “I just saw her at the Women's Retreat yesterday. She looked fine!” Unfortunately, looks can be deceiving and, with MS, they often are.

There are a lot of MS symptoms that I experience that no one sees. Sure, I’m in a wheelchair. My left arm is permanently stuck at a 45° angle. My hunky husband lifts me into and out of the car, dresses me, and feeds me because my mobility and dexterity are severely impaired. Those are things you see.

What you don't see is the difficulty I have being in social settings. Stimulating conversations; the sights and sounds; cold weather and warm hugs; great smelling food that’s tasty, too. All these can cause sensory overload, a very real and frustrating symptom of MS.

Having to deal with sensory overload in a social setting really cooks my grits. I used to be a total extrovert. I loved being around people. I enjoyed the interaction. I thrived off the energy. My sharp wit served me well. But now, with MS, I find I function better in really, really, REALLY small groups, like three or less. If there are more than that, I just get real quiet and watch what’s going on. Difficulty with cognition makes me shy away from jumping into conversations because I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up.

I’ve tried to master a few techniques to navigate large group settings. I speak when spoken to. I keep conversations short. Sometimes, when I can’t hear the person I’m talking to, I simply match my facial expressions to theirs so it looks like I’m really engaged in the conversation. I have to be careful doing that, though. Sometimes it backfires. Once someone was telling me about the death of her beloved parakeet. I smiled the whole time she was telling me her sad story. But it was an honest mistake. She kept smiling, so I kept smiling! She left the conversation in tears. And then it hit me: she was talking about a parakeet. I mean, come on. Can you say “parakeet” without smiling? I think not.

So back to my original story: what exactly happened over the last couple days to trigger the hermit within me? Social encounters of the overstimulating kind.

On Friday I decided to accept a last minute invitation to attend a large luncheon. The difficulties started in the parking lot. First sensory overload: cold. I hate cold. Think of someone dousing you with a bucket of ice water on your head. Shocking, right? Cold air sends my body into super spasticity. Every muscle tightens up. It’s uncomfortable. It hurts. “But wait… Weren’t you wearing a coat?” Of course not! That would be a double negative on my “cute” quotient! I have my pride. I left it in the car to put on later. (Don’t judge. Remember, I’m cognitively impaired.)

Once inside, the questions began: “Is this your first time here?” “Where are you sitting?” “How are you?” (A fully loaded question that requires major cognitive function to answer because I have to use my decision-making skills to choose what to say. Do I tell you about the self-inflicted pain I just endured coming in from the cold? Shall I tell you my March Madness bracket? Should I give you any answer all, or just go with the perfunctory, “Great! How are you?”). So many questions, too few healthy neurons. But I soldiered through…

The luncheon itself was lovely. It was wonderful to catch up with old friends and delightful to make new ones. The food was fabulous. The speakers spot on. The only rough spot was the dining music, provided by a bagpiper in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. Really? It drowned out every conversation in the room. Even my usual tactics were impossible to employ because I couldn’t hear what anyone was saying. Let’s book a jazz quartet or string ensemble next time, shall we?

Then it was back out into the cold to get to the car. I slept hard Friday night, but not long enough. Show time Saturday morning was 8:45 AM, which meant getting up at 7 AM. (Jesus take the wheel…)

Saturday morning dawned cloudy, but my excitement had me feeling sunny inside. After weathering the stinging cold once more to get to the car, I enjoyed the beautiful ride to the conference facility nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Warmly welcomed by the other ladies, curious questions began again. I’d had good practice the day before, so I was prepared. I think I even asked a question or two of my own. (Way to go, Cognitive Super Chick!) The morning session was really good. It soothed my soul to listen to the inspiring, edifying presentations. Several voices to listen to. One person at a time. Quite easy to follow… sort of.

In the meeting room there was a blazing, crackling fire in the large hearth. It was pretty, but the sweet, smoky aroma reminded me of a campfire. The smell was nice, but distracting. I kept waiting for someone to bust out some hot dogs or, even better, the makings for s’mores. Foodie distraction. The worst kind.

In order to stay focused during the presentations, I started doodling. You know, like you did in high school? Doodling when you were supposed to be listening and taking notes? Doodling helps me focus on what’s being said. The funny thing was that one of the speakers even mentioned doodling during her presentation. “Sometimes it’s easier for people to process information if they are doing something other just listening, like washing a car, eating food, or doodling.” BUSTED!

The afternoon session of the retreat was held outside in the sunshine. We were surrounded by nature, which always helps me to feel centered. I was super focused. I got a lot out of the prayer exercises and participating in Holy Communion. I left the retreat feeling revived and refreshed.

I slept hard again last night, recovering from the overstimulation of every sense in my body. It was a deep, happy sleep but, again, not long enough.

So I woke up this morning, Sunday, with a sore throat and feeling spent. Sensory overload. It takes a lot out of this girl. Time for some R&R, chamomile tea, and s’mores. What? You thought I forgot about that?

2 comments:

  1. I'm so glad you wrote this! I loved reading it! Keep up the good work. Remember, exercising your gifts is a God given mandate! Love Always, GPP!

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  2. Joni Whitaker3/21/17, 6:59 AM

    Angela! Thank you so much for wrapping words around your emotions and physical challenges! Miss your family so much!!!! jhw

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