Resilience and Burnout

Resilience and burnout. That was the topic of a session at a recent conference for those of us involved with the organization that sponsors this newsletter.

How can I be burned out during retirement?

How can I be burned out during retirement?

I set my own schedule except for those medical appointments that seem to fill my calendar. Whatever deadlines I have are self-imposed. But there is COVID-19, the pandemic, and all of the restrictions and cautions that go with it.

I will admit to having mask burnout. I know, I know. It is just that my ears haven’t gotten any bigger and I still find myself fumbling with the mask, hearing aids, and switching between reading glasses and sunglasses. I grumble about the unvaccinated people who ignore masks and the reality of the virus.

There are times when dealing with my deafness and macular degeneration and my husband’s various ailments just seem too much. Add to that a recent dental drama and, yes, my enthusiasm and motivation drain away.

How can we keep going with the drain of macular degeneration and everything else?

The resilience part of the program was why I tuned in with Zoom.

What is resilience?

I love this definition from the Mayo Clinic: "Resilience is the ability to adapt to difficult situations. When stress, adversity or trauma strikes, you still experience anger, grief, and pain, but you're able to keep functioning — both physically and psychologically."

However, resilience isn't about putting up with something difficult, being stoic, or figuring it out on your own... In fact, being able to reach out to others for support is a key part of being resilient.

A rolemodel

Rebecca Taussig, a young woman from my hometown of Kansas City, spoke about how she dealt with burnout and works on being resilient paralyzed at age three after surgery for cancers on her spinal cord she navigates the world with a wheelchair. She has other disabilities that you can’t see including chronic pain. She has recently had a baby and her husband was diagnosed with cancer. She reassured us that he was okay.

That is a lot of life stuff to navigate.

The first thing I noted in her talk was that being chronically ill is a place where resilience can grow, along with creativity and flexibility. When we are powerless to change something – my macular degeneration, my hearing loss, her paralysis - we need to stop and look at the whole picture, she said.

Finding ways to grow with our conditions

The words of the Serenity Prayer popped into my head as I heard that. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” She urged us to not hide from our condition. Talk about it. Write about. Let people know you have it and how it affects your life. Why do you need that flashlight to read a menu or can’t drive at night. Why do I have all those little bits of red tape on my appliances? Because manufacturers think everyone can read beige type on a white background.

Accepting our conditions

Resilience involves letting ourselves feel it all: the grief, the anger, the pain, the frustration of our diagnosis, and learning to live with it. We can choose to live with all of these emotions and the good things that are still in our lives. It is not one thing or another. It can be both and at the same time.

The aunt of a good friend fell about a year ago and broke something. The injury healed but she did not. She has gone from being a vibrant 85-year-old who went to ballet class twice a week to someone who lies in her bed seemingly waiting to die. She has rejected therapy, antidepressants. She has told the people in the nursing home not to let any family visit. She has abandoned her house, car, beloved collections. Whatever resilience she had, it is gone.

Is it something we can learn?

I wonder if among the things people should learn in elementary and high school is to be resilient. To read stories about resilient people, seeing them not as victims of whatever has befallen them but have found a way to live with and through what has happened.

“Nothing lasts forever,” Taussig’s grandmother told her. It is true that our eyes or eyes will never be the way we remember them or want them to be. There’s no going back but our reaction to the diagnosis does not need to be the same.

My story

It has been two years since my diagnosis, and I still whine about it sometimes.

Hey, it happens. I think in some ways it has been a positive thing. I try to be grateful for every book I can still read, every smile on every face I see, every time I can drive our car. One of the other truths we sometimes forget is that we change.

Thank goodness. Imagine trying the adult world with the body of a toddler. We would like to think that who we are at this moment is the way we will always be. In my 30’s I never focused on how I would live in my mid-70’s. Resilience, learning to deal with the stuff that comes our way and keep going, can keep us happy and grateful, and productive while we age.