Lois longed to fly the friendly skies but in 1968 minister’s daughters did not become stewardesses. They chose practical careers like teaching or nursing. For the entire first year of nursing school, Lois made weekly calls home to beg her parents to let her come home. Then her instructors decided she had a “bad attitude”. Despite her lukewarm feelings about a nursing career Lois set out to prove those cranky old instructors wrong.

Lois’s attitude, as well as her feelings about nursing, changed radically during her over 30 year career. She retired in the year 2000 as professor emerita from Trinity Christian College with Bachelor’s, Master’s and Doctoral degrees in nursing. But even that wasn’t enough classroom time for Lois. She recently completed three years of the University of Chicago Basic Program of Liberal Education for Adults. She now spends her days writing and being a happy grandma.

Changing Minds about Mental Illness 

When I was a young mom, forty-two years ago, I left my husband and two young kids for an overnight to find myself, only to find myself hospitalized two days later on a psychiatric unit diagnosed with anxiety.

After realizing I was missing the adult stimulation of my prior nursing career, I went back to school for advanced degrees in nursing. Later, for nearly fifteen years, I taught mental health nursing to senior nursing students. I spent hundreds of hours on inpatient psychiatric units mingling with the patients.

When I’d meet patients that knew me, they would, without fail, say, “You won’t tell anyone you saw me here, will you?” Of course not. I understood. I had told only a few people myself of my hospitalization.

So I know about the mind-set surrounding mental illness. The hush-hush. The stigma. And it’s always been a mission of mine to help reduce that stigma.

What about you? Have you or a loved one ever been diagnosed with a mental illness? How did you feel? What did you do? Whom did you turn to? How did or does the stigma of mental illness affect your life?

When we do not know that mental illnesses are brain disorders similar to physical illnesses being disorders, for example, of the heart, liver, or pancreas, it’s what we don’t know that leads to our “fear of the unknown.” And it’s that “fear of the unknown” that leads to the hush-hush, the stigma surrounding mental illness.

So how can we begin to take steps to change minds in our society about mental illness? Let’s take an example: your friend tells you her college-age daughter, Mackenzie, has been diagnosed with schizophrenia. What can you do?

1. Listen. Do not judge. Your friend needs support.

2. Offer to walk along with your friend into this new world. Maintain her confidentiality. Do not gossip about her or her daughter with others. Attend “open” support groups with her.

3. Adopt the same attitude that you have toward physical illness. If the clinic physician at Mackenzie’s college diagnosed her with strep throat, would you advise against antibiotics?

4. Make it your mission to learn about schizophrenia. An easy place to start is the National Alliance on Mental Illness (www.nami.org). NAMI’s site presents information covering all mental illnesses, explaining their physical (structural and functional brain changes) as well as other causes.

5. Educate yourself on public policy issues. Observe what’s lacking for your friend. Is it access to care, availability of care, insurance coverage? Write your congressman. Make a difference.

Is there something you already do to educate others about mental illness? If so, thank you! And know that people living with mental illness and their families and friends, will appreciate that you are educating yourself, being their support, and advocating on their behalf.

 

APRIL 7th to APRIL 21st, 2012

 

CARING LESSONS
by LOIS HOITENGA ROELOFS

*GIVEAWAY ENDS APRIL 21st AT 6PM EST*

DISCLAIMER / RULES

APRIL 6th to APRIL 20th, 2012

 

THE HUNT FOR KSM
by JOSH MEYER and TERRY McDERMOTT

As Wil walked up his front path, he heard the gate open behind him and a voice ask, “Mr Jackson?”
He turned. “Yes, that’s right, how can I help you?”
The person asking the question was tall and well-built, although it looked all muscle, not a streak of fat. But for the pink polo shirt and linen trousers over deck shoes, the guy would look quite frightening, as he filled the gateway on his way through it.
“I’m Detective Chief Inspector Price, Metropolitan Police. I’d like to talk to you about a Mr Arthur Trent. Do you know Mr Trent?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t say that I actually ‘know’ him, as such. I interviewed him a couple of days ago for a piece I’m writing for a website. What’s this all about?”
“It would be better if we spoke inside, Mr Jackson – the situation is a little delicate at this moment in time.”
“Sure, come around to my office; we can talk there. Follow me.”
Wil led the Inspector around the side of his end terrace and through another gate, taking him into the back garden and towards his living-ark office. He unlocked the door and slid it to one side. The cool air from the inside washed across them.
“Seems like it would be more comfortable to talk in there,” Price said. “Air-conditioning?”
“No, it’s all part of the design. Stays warm in the winter and cool in the summer, perfect for working in, an office away from home, although not quite. Pretty geeky too, isn’t it? Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Err…yes.”
Wil raised an eyebrow in enquiry.
“Sorry. Yes to the tea, and your shed. Milk no sugar, please.”
“Come in and take a seat.” Wil waved towards a smart red leather sofa centre-piecing a wall of his office. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
Price relaxed into the plush sofa and had a good look around the interior. It was clearly, first and foremost, an office of sorts, although from the outside, it looked a little like something out of a science fiction movie. One wall contained a work bench with monitors, telephone, computers and a printer, as well as a disarray of paperwork scattered across the surface. The side where Price was sitting was mostly taken up by the sofa but also had some bookshelves with a mixture of what looked to be science fiction novels crossed with text books and other works of non-fiction. Price watched Wil as he moved towards the back corner of the room, where there was a kettle and a coffee maker. As with the computer hardware and other paraphernalia in the room, these looked rather sedate, but apparently functional. There were a further two doors on the back wall; Price guessed that one probably led to some kind of bathroom, but had no idea what might lie behind the other. In between th! em stood a wood burning stove with a polished, galvanised chimney, which rose to the ceiling; it was showing some blueing from heat at the joins.
Price continued to watch Wil; he didn’t look to be a very likely murder suspect, more like an out of place schoolboy. Somewhere between nerd and geek, he hardly looked capable of blowing someone up – although appearances could be deceptive, and judging by the amount of technology and other bits and pieces in this one room alone, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if Wil Jackson had more than one skeleton in his closet.
Wil turned from his tea making duties with a cup of steaming brew in his hand, which he passed to Price. After taking a second cup, he settled into his office chair at the work bench.
“Now, what’s all this about Arthur Trent?” Wil asked, raising an eyebrow.
“When you saw Mr Trent, was it in his office, Mr Jackson?”
“It was, down in the Docklands. That big tower, owned by the bank he worked for – great view from forty-four floors up. I still don’t understand what I can help you with, though, Inspector, err, Price, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s right, Gavin Price. Mr Trent is dead, sir – murdered by the looks of things, and we’re trying to establish who he saw in the last few days of his life. That’s why I need to speak to you. It seems as though you were one of the last people to actually see him alive.”
Suddenly it all made sense to Wil; the news report, and now the policeman on his doorstep asking questions.

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