Excessive Exhaustion

Although I seem to be handling my struggles better, I find it infuriating that my narcolepsy seems worse than ever. I know that my condition moves in cycles, and I am clearly in a down turn at this time. Still, getting up in the morning is more difficult, and my evening peter out far sooner than they did last year. I am scared that narcolepsy is progressive. I realize that my amphetamine dose is likely less effective, but I also doubt that the drug's impact has curtailed to the extent that I am once again experiencing fogginess in my thinking and the possibility of micro-naps. Even today, my drive home from school felt much closer to the automatic behavior rides I remember from my pre-diagnosis days.

Adding to my concern is that I am at a loss as to where I should turn medically. Since my sleep doctor did not even both to come into the room during my last visit, I doubt he will be much help. While he definitely understands the basics of narcolepsy, he is a pulmonary doctor whose true focus is obstructive sleep apnea. What I need is a neurologist who is well versed in sleep. Sadly, such physicians are few and far between. The "premier" group in the Minneapolis and Saint Paul area apparently has a narrow view of narcolepsy. If you are not text book, then you do NOT have narcolepsy. Since I am functioning less well on my current medicinal routine, I highly doubt that "losing" my diagnosis would do me much good. I boggles my mind that I am NOT going to a doctor because I am afraid that the doctor might tell me I do not have narcolepsy. I KNOW that I have narcolepsy, but the fact that I personally have talked to people who have been to this group worries me enough that I am not going to take the risk.

In many ways my current situation underscores the ridiculous reality that far too many PWNs face - we have a disease that does not "fit" in the contemporary structure of medicine. Most specials focus on a specific body system, but sleep medicine covers an enormous range. Obstructive sleep apnea alone involves the throat, the lungs, the brain, and even the heart and other organs when untreated. So, one can find sleep doctors who are ENTs, pulmonary specialists, neurologists, and even cardiovascular physicians. And, the essential mechanism of OSA is fairly well understood. Narcolepsy on the other hand is an autoimmune disease in which an environmental trigger has caused a genetic predisposition to activate, resulting in the body attacking small cells in the hypothalamus. Thus, those same sleep doctors who treat OSA periodically get PWNs as patients. But, few of them understand narcolepsy (which is still in its infancy in terms of medical insight). The situation only worsens when one realizes that the limited number of PWNs and the extreme nature of our drugs (class II stimulants and sleep aides like sodium oxybate) provide little to no financial incentive for any doctor considering sleep as a primary area of interest. The one small ray of hope is that the recent discovers about narcolepsy may spark significant interest among immunologists - now that it is clear that narcolepsy is an autoimmune disease.

None of that rambling helps my overly sleepy state, however. I remain proud of myself for accepting my situation and for pushing ahead with the best attitude that I can muster. Nonetheless, I abhor that mowing my small lawn today completely did me in. That comes on the heels of a Saturday and Sunday that saw me accomplish little because I was drained from talking to my wife and from confronting another parent. All of that happened on Saturday, but I needed all of Sunday to recover. In fact, I would argue that some of my current lethargy is also linked to my mental and emotional exertion on Saturday. While I know that I am doing the best that I can, the rational side of my brain is screaming about how pathetic the reality is. Yet, I have no choice, but to breath and to accept my disability.

I am looking forward to the Narcolepsy Network conference this weekend. While my relationship with the organization feels shaky at this time, I am thrilled to be going somewhere where my "norm" IS the "norm." Sitting in a room, or even having a casual conversation with a fellow PWN, is tremendously empowering. It reminds me that I am not insane. It also underscores for me that this disease is awful, and yet it is also manageable. Granted, I need to keep working to accept my limits, but I can be productive even with narcolepsy impeding me much of the time.

Groggy Gray Grumpies

I awoke today feeling like I had been run over by a car. There seems to be no definitive reason for this. I have not slept on any bathroom floors. I took both doses of Xyrem. I laid off exercising excessively for the last two days because I was feeling run down. Why in the world would my body be this sore? Then, I remembered - I tried to DO things this week. By that, I mean I had numerous meetings and worked on financial issues in our house. I also tried to do some housework and even spent quality time with my wife and my daughter. The most unnerving part is that all of that "work" resulted in me being even more wiped out AND the following:

• House is messier today than it was on Monday
• Lawn is still not mowed
• I need to make two phone calls - one to set up yet another meeting
• Our office is still not cleaned
• Our finances are not yet up to date
• Oodles of things need to get done for my job
• Oodles of things need to get done for MOONS-MN
• Oodles of things need to get done for our house - window stain, door paint, room touch up, blinds hung
• My wife is depressed, and more from me would help
• My daughter needs us to run errands and help packing for an overnight

I often find the hardest thing about narcolepsy is letting go of the shame and guilt that a list like this one can foster. I KNOW that I did a decent job this week, but it scares the hell out of me that my progress during the week resulted in everything getting further behind. I would love to pretend that I will just "work harder," but that is not possible. In fact, pushing too hard is what got me to this morning when I awoke feeling like I had been run over. It is a strange, sad cycle. And, if I am not careful, I can let it eat me alive. My baseline has always been an all or nothing approach. I throw myself into things, or I completely surrender. Unfortunately, that approach has never worked out super well. And, when it gets right down to it, it won't in this moment either. I will NOT get that list above done today, tomorrow, next week, or possibly even next year. I also will NOT give up my wife, my daughter, my house, my job, my health, or my sanity.

My favorite insight about life is that it is paradoxical at its core. There is always too much to do, that will never get done, and is always completed. If that makes little sense and complete sense, welcome to the world of paradox. Perhaps it is that one insight that lets my let go on days like today. I will not get all of those things, but eventually they will all get done (even if they don't). And, obviously, reactions and emotions like mine today are not exclusive to narcolepsy. It exacerbates the severity of my fatigue and my ability to do things, but each person has her or his limitations. Which is my second favorite insight - pain and struggle can never be compared. None of us will ever know what is like to be another person and face her or his challenges. Even if I met another almost 41 year old, male, English teacher, two years into his diagnosis of narcolepsy. While we might have some similar experiences, I could never understand his struggles. Thus, the challenge is to make peace with the good and the bad within our own bodies and minds. At the same time, it sure helps to have others in your life who at least "get it" when it comes to your own struggles. Thanks for reading and thanks for letting me vent a little. It might just help something get done today.

Sick Sad Sunday

Apparently, when your spouse gets sick, it means you can potentially get the same thing. Whatever messed up my wife's stomach on December 26 got me too. I spent all day yesterday feeling horrid. Thankfully, I am much better today. My bowels are still dicey, but at least I feel like I can eat something. Also, I don't ache everywhere. I think the most frustrating thing was that even extra strength acetaminophen did not seem to help - yuck!

The bright spot in the day, though, is that I simply gave into the sickness. My grandmother was having a large gathering of family. While I was sad to miss it, I didn't feel bad about that. Nor did I feel rotten about spending a day in bed. I "could've" tried to do schoolwork, but I know I would not have been focused. I simply chose to lay down and read a book. That was good for me too. As I have said so often lately, even a year ago, I might have tried to fight through the illness. But, I know enough now to realize that being somewhere absolutely miserable is not helpful to anyone, let alone to me.

Plus, I will get to see some of the folks over the next day or two. My sister, my daughter, my parents, and I are still in Duluth until tomorrow. It should be fun to have a few more low key days. I think I am also enjoying taking smaller doses of my stimulants right now. It is definitely making me more relaxed and low key. Of course, I remain convinced that I will need to return to nearly full doses when school re-starts in a week. But, that is seven days a way. I plan to enjoy my break until then!

December Drifting

First and foremost, I must say that day five is definitely better than day four. I still don't know if it is the natural course of my med holiday, or the acupuncture, but I definitely had more energy today. The morning was still awful (I finally got out of bed at 9:30 AM because I HAD to leave the house at 10 AM), but once I got going, I felt okay. I was definitely still sleepy, and I kept my exertion to a minimum, but I did not dose as I had done during the first four days. I even managed to be decently helpful to my wife - which is good since I set her off while we were shopping (not so cool on Christmas Eve).

Beyond the med holiday, though, today is Christmas Eve. I often work to keep religion out of my blog, partly because I see narcolepsy as something that transcends religious affiliation, but also because I know that people of many faiths read this blog. While I know that my Roman Catholic faith is deeply a part of who I am, I would never want to proselytize here and offend someone of a different religious background, or someone who holds a more agnostic, or atheistic, or scientific view of the universe. Having said all of that, though, I must say Merry Christmas to those who are Christian (and Happy Hanukkah to those who are Jewish - though I know that it is a minor holiday I do think the efforts and actions of the Maccabees are way cool - and joyous Kwanzaa to those who celebrate and Happy New Year to those on a western calendar and remember that the whole month is Universal Human Rights Month, as well as World AIDS month).

I had a powerful experience at Mass tonight. First of all, my daughter sang in the youth choir. Not only was it amazing to watch her perform, but it was also wild to have other people see her who had not for some time. She is definitely a young woman in her appearance and her demeanor. It is both amazing and frightening. Beyond that, though, our priest gave his homily about Apollo 13 and "drifting in to nothingness" in space. His primary point was that the entire universe is the creation of Divine force. Whether it is God, or some other spiritual force, the reality is that the energy behind the universe is the same here and billions of light years away. All life and energy in the universe is good and blessed because it was all part of the plan. Earth is not the epicenter of it all. Rather, we are one small piece of the puzzle. It gave me a who new perspective on these past few days. As much as I felt like I was drifting along doing "nothing" in my stupor, the reality is that everything I do is part of something far greater than myself. I can no more drift away than I can disappear or levitate because God loves me always. It is a powerful message to consider.

I hope no one was offended by my theological turn here. While I hold strongly to my own faith, I truly believe that "truth" is in the midst of all beliefs and faiths. How could I, or any human, ever hope to know the mind of something or someone divine? All I know is that I am blessed to have such a good life, a job I enjoy, and a fantastic family. I hope that everyone else in this world has a chance to experience the joy that has been given to me. Narcolepsy is rotten, but I would not trade my life for anything, because the whole package is mine - the good and the bad. Peace be unto all of you!

Hope Happening Here

Today, perhaps for the first time ever, my therapist could NOT stop smiling during our session. It was truly incredible. Of course, it might be that nearly everything I said at today's session had a positive tone (or at least undertone). When I was thinking about today's session, while at school yesterday, I felt nearly giddy. I look forward to therapy because talking out my issues grounds me. The difference last night was that I knew that I was bursting to let my therapist know how well things have been going. The sensation is incredibly odd.

As I left my therapy session, though, I realized what I was experiencing. For the first time in years, I am actually feeling hopeful. Even more importantly, it is not a "pie-in-the-sky" hope - believing that with just a few changes I will start doing yoga for an hour each day, or that I will tweak a couple of meds and be able to work full time again. Those thoughts aren't even dreams, they are delusions. What is percolating inside me is - the belief that I will make a difference, the possibility that I can accomplish worthwhile tasks (even with a chronic condition), the reality that I am far more than a bizarre medical condition. I don't know if anything feels quite this good.

As I mentioned above, I don't see this moment as an end. If anything, it is the true beginning. Now, I can start to walk honestly with my disease and discover ways to honor it while still confronting it. Narcolepsy is a part of me, but it is certainly NOT all of me. In fact it isn't a big percentage. It make keep my energy down, but my heart and soul and mind are MINE. And, this disease can have no part of them. I know that many dark days will be on my path, but I fear them less and less. I merely need to put one foot in front of the other, and I will continue to walk my path as best I can.

Perhaps one of the things that has given me the most hope in the last few months is communicating with other people with narcolepsy online. I had made such incredible friends throughout the world. It is a huge blessing for me. When I read about a woman in the United Arab Emirates struggling to find out about narcolepsy, or the young woman in Singapore who has taken control of her own life and medical condition, my spirits soar. Some people praise me for my kindness to them. I am honored and flattered by their praise, but even more so I am inspired by their courage and determination to face this disease and the societal scorn that can accompany it. Their journeys give my own even more purpose. At some level, having narcolepsy is worth all of its hassles purely so I can be lucky enough to know other people with naroclepsy.

Depressing Dangers

I find it fascinating how a weekend can spin on a dime. Yesterday was fantastic, while today is not. My day has been alright. I actually held to some scheduled times that I set for myself (which is progress), but my mid-afternoon and evening fell apart. In some ways I got swept up in "drama," as my students would call it. Of course, the reality of the situations is far more than that. One of the ugliest aspects of narcolepsy is the depression that it can cause.

In recent days a friend (one of many I have met in online narcolepsy support groups) has written a few things that have me deeply concerned. She is definitely depressed. The disease alone can do that. Imagine the reality of it. Narcolepsy doesn't allow you to sleep well (often even if you are one a medication to help you sleep). As a result you spend your entire day exhaust (often even if you take some type of stimulant). Beyond feeling exhausted, you might have cataplexy and lose control of certain muscles at times (making you feel clumsy and awkward), but even if you don't have cataplexy, the fatigue drags at you. You can't do everything that think think you should. Others wonder why you aren't getting your work done. Many narcoleptics are called lazy by their colleagues and family. They are told to get more sleep or to drink some coffee. In many ways the disease is a nightmare. Narcoleptics look and (generally) act like able-bodied persons, but they actually have a debilitating disease. One that forces them to perform far below what they (and others) think should be the case. How could that cause depression?!?

My friend, though, has even more going on in her life. She recently moved in an attempt to get her life back on track. The move has left her in a new place with few friends. Worst of all, she is among the millions of U.S. citizens without health insurance. She is running out of narcolepsy meds and can't see a doctor. Needless to say, I am worried.

One of her posts, though, caused another narcoleptic a great deal of stress. This second woman saw my friend's post, and it cut this woman to the core. My friend's post in my eyes is a cry for help, but due to events and stress in this other narcoleptic's life, she saw it as counterproductive and giving up. Much angst ensued, including two other friends getting involved and responding with posts. In the end I wound up trading a number of messages directly to the narcoleptic woman who got so upset at my friend's message. It still bothers her, but I think she simply appreciated being able to tell someone her story.

In all of the consternation, I kept reminding myself how fragile all of this is. Narcolepsy truly is an insane condition. I take drugs to help me sleep at night and others to help me stay awake during the day. That is wrong! It is a complete paradox. Even more amazing is the fact that so many narcoleptics fight like mad to continue to function. A good friend offered the thought to me that we narcoleptics have to have this condition. If we didn't, we would wind up taking over the world. It sounds funny - until you meet other narcoleptics and realize how hard we all drive ourselves (and yet still feel inferior).

While all of this has been happening around my friend's post, I also had the chance to read up on the life of this amazing sixteen year old, narcoleptic girl in Singapore. This young woman realized that something was wrong with her health, disregarded every message that she got that it was in her head, researched like mad on the Internet, read about narcolepsy, dialogued with a number of us online, made her own appointments with a sleep doctor, and eventually got diagnosed. She also managed to do this within a month or so. Yet, in the face of this, her parents still think that she is lazy. She is in trouble at school because she is not performing well academically (they allow her no excuses), and she thinks she is letting people down. How sad is that? For any sixteen year old to be that resourceful is amazing, but add in the fact that she has narcolepsy, and she should be receiving medals not insults.

I wish there was some way to explain to people that narcolepsy is incredibly hard. Even as I learn to live with it, I daily fight my own messages that I "should" be doing more. The fact of the matter is that without medication my brain function would be comparable to a non-narcoletic who had not slept for 72 hours. With medication it is better than that, but I am still wiped out most of the time. AND, my narcolepsy is not nearly as severe as others. It saddens me so that many of the narcoleptics that I know face scorn from the people closest to them - parents, siblings, friends. How is that just? I hope that all of the people who are on my mind tonight - my depressed friend, the upset woman who is my new friend, the two others who engaged in the dialogue, the young woman in Singapore - are all able to find some peace and strength in their lives. I am blessed to have the family and friends that I do. I am also fortunate to have a local support group that is growing stronger. Plus, I get to go to a national convention for narcoleptics in less than a month, or at least I think I do. Amid the other stressors today, I learned that my account on the Narcoleptic Network Online Community is not working. When I couldn't log in, I tried to use the help functions, only to be told that "no member has that information." So, I either did something very wrong, or it is some computer glitch. I sent off a couple of requests for help, but have heard nothing yet. Invariably, I am already blaming myself, and a part of my brain is convinced that I have gotten myself thrown out of the group before I ever got to go to the convention. While the thinking is completely irrational, it starts to sound pretty accurate as the depression creeps in. Let's hope that I am totally wrong and am able to access my account again soon.

Doctor Discretion

At times I get extremely upset with my medical care and that of narcoleptics in general. While some of that frustration is justified, the reality is that most of my physicians have been outstanding. Honestly, only a handful of doctors in the world have a deep understanding of narcolepsy and its causes. In the last few years, the biggest breakthroughs ever have taken place with the discovery of orexin/hypocretin.

Yet even with all of that, I do think that doctors need to learn more about narcolepsy and other sleep disorders. While narcolepsy seems to only affect 1 person in 2500, there are still a number of undiagnosed narcoleptics out there. Far more unnerving are the many people with sleep apnea who are undiagnosed. The importance of sleep is massive and barely understood. Orexin/hypocretin, which is lacking in narcoleptics, was discovered while researching hunger issues. There also may be connections between narcolepsy and MS, Parkinson's, sinus issues and ADHD/ADD. The bottom line is that sleep is vital to our mental and physical health, and many people are going undiagnosed and unhelped.

Of course, in many ways, those of us in the U.S. are lucky. A friend in the U.K. wrote a great article for The Guardian. It came out today and details that massive numbers of people in the U.K. are going undiagnosed due to their health systems unwillingness to recognize these conditions. It is sad that so many people are being hurt because of a systemic problem. Of course, one could argue that the U.S. has a similar issue in the way that health insurance companies tend to control what doctors can and cannot do. Still, we don't seem to have quite the problem that Great Britain does.

I realize that narcolepsy and other sleep conditions are incredibly difficult to diagnose, but so many people are made to feel like hypocondriacs. Because narcolepsy is rare and the primary symptom is Excessive Daytime Sleepiness (a fancy way to say extreme fatigue), most doctors explore a multitude of issues before even considering narcolepsy. Worse, some doctors never explore narcolepsy! Unfortunately, even specialists who are the "experts" in narcolepsy sometimes don't have much practical experience treating the condition. As a result they (and certainly a vast number of general practicioners) miss some of the signs because they don't match the "textbook" descriptions of narcolpesy symptoms. And, because we are only now just beginning to understand narcolepsy, the disease is likely far more diverse than anyone suspects.

Just Another Wacky Day

I had thought my next blog would be about the amazing experience of being in my men's group. I also considered a blog entry on the importance of therapy. A third topic choice was the vitality of friendship and its importance in my life. Nowhere in my planned list of entries was "completely insane day centered on your wife's health issues." And yet, here we are!

My wife is amazing. She truly stuns me on a daily basis. Not only does she manage to love me unconditionally, even with the gloom of narcolepsy hanging over me, but also she daily proves that nothing rivals the affection of a mother for her child. Our daughter goes non-stop and taxes both my and my wife's reserves. Since I don't have much, my wife bears the brunt of the parenting, and virtually every other home life responsibility. Rather than becoming feed up with our child, my wife's enthusiasm for our not so little girl grows with each challenge and demand. It is astounding.

Beyond that, the love of my life is also a phenomenal editor and writer. Her work at the University of Minnesota Medical School has already garnered her a tremendous reputation. Recently, she facilitated a four session workshop on grant writing. Every week she had 50 doctors and researchers engaged for an hour and a half - about writing! She is even better one-on-one and rarely does someone walk away dissatisfied from working with her. Her professionalism and dedication are the stuff of legend among her peers.

Given all of that, it is unbelievable that we spent the afternoon running around dealing with her health issues rather than mine. She is the strong one; I am the ill one. Yet, she has been struggling for weeks with fatigue and stress issues. We have even discussed the possibility that she might have a sleep disorder. Talk about irony! Today, though, went well beyond speculation. Periodically, my wife has had severe abdominal pain. The working theory has been that she experiences ovarian cysts in those episodes. She had a situation last week and even got to discuss it with her other concerns during an appointment with her nurse practitioner. They did a number of tests, and many have already come back normal.

Then, today, my wife called me right before Noon. I was in the middle of class and could not call her until the class ended. When we finally had the chance to talk, she told me that she was experiencing the pain again and was unsure if she could drive. She did manage to get home. I then headed home to get her and brought her to her clinic. After getting our daughter at school and canceling my own appointment, we returned to the clinic to find my wife still waiting and in pain. She finally headed back and was there for an hour. An X-Ray showed nothing significant, and my wife got some Mira-lax in hopes that would help. We still needed to get her to the hospital, though, for a pelvic ultrasound. We don't have those results yet, but my wife is convinced they will be normal too.

She headed to bed as soon as we got home. I must admit that I am scared. My wife's dad has had some major health issues - surviving colon cancer, sleep apnea, type II diabetes. At one level I am sure that she is fine, but it also frightens me that someone as tough and driven as my wife could be incapacitated in this way. The reality is that NOTHING has ever slowed her down when she needs to get things done. But, whatever this is, it has stopped her in her tracks. It is also eating at her that she feels so limited. The quirk is that she keeps checking with me to make sure that I don't think she is being lazy. It is almost laughable that she would feel that way. For seven years, I have barely been able to function due to mysterious and strange health issues, yet she worries that I will think she is weak after a day of pain. Of course, I am complete empathy. Unknown medical problems are horribly frustrating. My own issues have (and sometimes still do) driven me bonkers. Given the way our culture treats illness, it is no wonder that most of us beat ourselves up for getting sick. Being a drain is bad, thus we must be bad if we are sick. How warped is that thinking? Yet, we all do it.

I desperately hope that nothing is seriously wrong with my wife. I don't know how we will weather the reality of two limited adults in this house. But, if something is deeply wrong, I honestly hope we can find it soon so my wife does not have to face the medical nightmare that I experienced, moving from specialist to specialist, never getting a clear answer. The most irrational moments that I have are the ones where I convince myself that I have somehow given my wife this illness. So many of her symptoms mirror my early ones. Of course, that could just be me making myself the center of attention, rather than providing my wife the attention and care that she deserves. Please keep her and our whole family in your thoughts. Thanks!

Empathy

I belong to a few online narcolepsy support groups. They have become an important part of my life within the short month I have known them. I am even more excited to attend my first MOONS meeting on May 31. Having the chance to connect with other narcoleptics is amazing. My sense of isolation has become overwhelming at times. While no one, not even another narcoleptic, can understand what I am experiencing, I relish the chance to interact with people who certainly can relate.

Of course, one need not have narcolepsy to understand hardship. The more I struggle through my condition, the more fully I come to realize that it is impossible to compare (or judge) pain and stress. My journey has been horrific at times, but has also brought me so many rewards and so much grace. I doubt anyone would chose my path, but is it any worse than those that others tread? How could I say that this experience is any harder or easier than yours? I can't. No one can. I live in this insane culture where we are driven to WIN, at all costs - even if it is suffering. Think how often in the United States people play the game of "my life is worse." So many of us want to dwell on our own sorrows simply to prove that we deserve the sympathy of those around us.

Maybe it is the frustration of knowing that my narcolepsy won't go away, or maybe it is the blessing of knowing that my narcolepsy won't go away, but I want out of the "my life is worse" game. Instead, I want to use my own struggle to build empathy with each person I encounter. Rather than spiralling in on my setbacks, I want to reach out to others and acknowledge their grief. I can't understand it, but by using my own difficulties as a lens, I can at least glimpse another's woundedness. In doing that we both can heal. We can validate each other and feel less loneliness. I am not talking about martyring myself and denying my suffering. Nor do I mean that what I have gone through is the same.

The point is I know what it is like to hurt. By recognizing, instead of challenging or questioning, someone else's gashes, I can help that person to be more whole. When I explain narcolepsy to friends, they often wonder how I can survive with it. For me it is not an option - I just do. My surprise is that I am more awed by their struggles. A student of mine once remarked that he, "would have just given up" if he faced the challenges that I have. But, that same student has overcome a litany of obstacles in four years transforming from a student highly likely to flunk out into one who will head off to a four year college and a vibrant future. I have a friend who had both kidneys fail before age 21. Another friend has faced tremendous depression and is finally getting help. A third battles personal demons that can only be controlled by intensive medication, yet that friend still fills the world with joy and art.

The list could go on and on. Are any of those people better or worse off than I? Who knows! Pain and suffering can't be judged. All I can know is my own life. Certainly, I can wallow in the delusion that no one has ever faced anything as awful as narcolepsy, at least not the way it impacts me. Or, I can deny that my narcolepsy has any impact at all on the way I move through this world, scoffing at those who would use illness as an excuse. Fortunately, I choose to accept each day for what it is. I am narcoleptic, and I struggle. That experience, though, affords me the opportunity to be grateful for all that I do have. I also can use my condition as a window into the struggles of those around me. When we can be with one another and simply recognize of basic humanness, then we all have a shot at starting to heal.