Stress busters – Page 3 – Me and the Doods.com

A Rough Day at the Beach

Generally I try to keep my posts positive, especially now. More and more people are talking about how stressed they feel and how much they need a time out. Whether they’re on the front lines like my daughter Nicole working in the ICU or have kids in virtual school at home like my youngest, Danielle, people are doing their best to hang in there but it’s tough.

It’s inspiring to see how many are reaching out to help each other cope. This week, unfortunately, I had an incident with someone who definitely wasn’t. I apologize but I need to vent.

With the unseasonably warm weather, my husband and I took the dogs down to the beach. While he went to sit on the sand and watch the huge waves, I went for a walk with Gus and Stanley on a path that runs along the ocean. It felt safe because there were no bikes allowed and almost everyone we passed was wearing a mask.

As I was starting to relax and enjoy the day, a teenage boy, without a mask, came barreling toward us on his bike. I pulled the dogs close and turned my back to him. That’s when he yelled at me in language that I won’t even repeat as he sped by. He went so low as to use the “old” word.

ELBEE That’s what really got her.

I admit the “old” word was unsettling, Who yells at a grandma walking her dogs? And so much for my theory that a mask makes you look younger.

Thank goodness I had Gus and Stanley with me for support. Neither one would make a very good guard dog. Gus sprints past houses where dogs have barked at him. Still, in that situation I felt less vulnerable with them at my side. Stanley leaned against me, probably keeping me from saying something totally inappropriate in response.

I debated about sharing this but sadly that encounter is such a sign of the times. What I truly find sad is that this is not an isolated incident. There is so much divisiveness when we all really need to come together. We hear the rhetoric but when it becomes that personal, it’s disturbing.

Once we got home, Gus and Stanley went into therapy dog overdrive. They followed me around the house (even more so than usual). Gus nudged me with his paws. Stanley threw himself down next to me.

The behavior of the dogs is so instinctual and so kind. I personally benefited from it that day. I also see it whenever Gus and Stanley or their buddies in the People Animal Connection are visiting in the hospital. There are lessons we can learn from them about unconditional love and acceptance.

Photo credit to Doug Morrow

Pandemic Brain

If this post seems scattered, it’s because I have pandemic brain. Yes, pandemic brain. It’s a thing.

ELBEE No idea how it happened but I think I have it too.

I was talking to a friend recently and said that I couldn’t remember whether or not I’d sent her a certain email or even what I was supposed to include in it. I blamed it on pandemic brain. Without hesitation she said, “I have it too.”

The more I thought about it and the more people I talked to, I realized that lots of us have it. Forgetfulness is only one small part. There may be anxiety with a dash of depression thrown in. We feel like we look pretty good without makeup. We think that matching masks make our outfits. Insomnia is a given.

GUS & STANLEY We haven’t slept a full night in months. We’re exhausted.

It all makes perfect sense. We’re living in a Groundhog Day world where each day is a repeat of the trials and tribulations of the one before. Watching the news is not for the faint-hearted.

There’s no such thing as just running into the market. We, well some of us, only put on cute outfits and makeup to sit in front of a computer and socialize. We go to virtual luncheons where we bring our own food.

On a positive note, people are finding all sorts of coping mechanisms. Gardening, for example, has become very popular. The husband has planted so many succulents in the yard that he’s now eyeing the neighbors’ yards for more space.

He’s also being very careful. When he comes home from work, he leaves his hospital scrubs in the garage and walks into the house in a very nice suit jacket, underwear, shoes and socks.

ELBEE Where is a photo when we need one?

GUS & STANLEY We wish we could unsee it.

Speaking of photos, lots of people are taking the opportunity to go through old files. A dear friend whose husband was my bodybuilding partner in crime, recently dug this one up. Pandemic brain is making me share.

ELBEE This has nothing to do with pandemic brain.

Many are doing yoga and meditation. Some have turned to sewing, quilting and crafting. Stanley is doing needlepoint.

Others have become gourmet chefs.

To be honest, I fall asleep when I meditate and have become the queen of takeout. My coping mechanisms, in no particular order, are family and friends, the dogs, exercise, the mountains and Hallmark movies.

Lately, I find myself looking for the positive when I’m walking with Gus and Stanley. I am not a fan of graffiti, but understood why someone had written this message to Kobe on the anniversary of his death.

I was hiking by a small sign reminding people of park hours, when I happened to glance at the back. Someone had chalked in, “Be kind.” Those simple words brought unexpected tears to my eyes. More than ever, in this time of chaos and loss, we need to be kind.

Who Ya Gonna Call? Virtual Stress Busters!

During final exams at UCLA, the PAC dogs serve as stress busters at Powell Library. As soon as the dogs walk in, the mood lightens and studying takes a temporary back seat. On one visit a girl kept hugging Gus and crying, reassuring me that they were happy tears. During Stanley’s first time at Powell, one of the students lay down on the floor with him.

Last week, since the pandemic made it impossible to bring the dogs in, virtual visits were the next best thing. Having done several meetings, I confidently logged in with Gus and Stanley. That’s when it happened. My computer told me that I couldn’t log in because I had to update Zoom. Two months ago I’d never even heard of it. Now I had to update it?

ELBEE What happened to her tech “savvyiness?”

With great trepidation, I pressed the update button. The blue line started moving but I don’t think it could have gone any slower. When it finally finished and I was about to congratulate myself, another message came up informing me that I didn’t have the necessary authority to install the update. It even asked if I was a robot.

ELBEE I was laughing so hard.

Then the invisible “it” who was controlling all of this wanted a password. By some miracle, after three wrong ones, I got it right. Then, totally stressed, I joined the other teams at the anti-stress meeting already in progress.

Gus, done by then, went to take a nap. Stanley, on the other hand, loves Zoom and shares the screen with me. One of the girls started smiling as soon as she saw his big shaggy head. She remembered him from a pet visit station at the hospital. She had been having a really bad day and Stanley had turned it around. A moment later she help up a photo of her and Stanley that she had saved in her phone.

Stanley watched as everyone introduced their dogs to the students, shared stories and answered questions. All of a sudden he saw Blue Moon, the adorable miniature horse who is in the program. Stanley has met her a few times and is a little obsessed. He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen as her owner Victoria had her do a few tricks.

ELBEE When Blue Moon played her piano, I thought Stanley was going to dance.

Obviously, it’s harder to gage the effects that the dogs are having during a virtual visit. It’s “pet” therapy and there is no petting. The only feedback comes through the comments and questions. On that day, someone had typed in, “I’m so happy now.” That made me so happy too.

Welcome Home

Last week the Santa Monica Mountains reopened after being closed for two months due to COVID-19. Returning to the trails was almost as exciting as giving birth or competing in my first bodybuilding show.

ELBEE Can you say hyperbole?

As if the universe knew that we needed a break, the weather was perfect. The stifling heat of the day before had given way to cooler temperatures and a slight breeze.

I met my friends Dennis and Shelli on a scenic part of dirt Mulholland. On one side there are spectacular views of the San Fernando Valley. On the other, you can see the ocean. I have never appreciated the views more.

Afraid we’d encounter the same chaos that had led to the closures, we were pleasantly surprised. It was like a big mountain party. For the most part, people, including us, were practicing social distancing and wearing masks.

The next morning, desperately needing to spend more time in nature, I headed up a narrow trail. Solitary hiking is my personal form of meditation.

ELBEE Explain that one to the daughters.

It’s also when I see my mountain buddies. I ran into one of the regulars who was holding a big bouquet of wildflowers. Aware that picking the flowers is a big no, he explained almost apologetically that they were a mothers’ day gift for his wife. He had picked them because he was afraid to go the market. I understood his hesitation and cut him some slack.

Speaking of flowers, some of the blooms had faded but others were on full display. The sticky monkey, yarrow and mustard wove vibrant carpets of yellow and orange. The elegant yucca dotted the hillsides.

Yesterday I took Gus and Stanley hiking. Walking the trails with them on a warm, clear morning was a joy. People smiled and waved at the sight of them. Many commented on how much maintenance they must be. It almost made up for all the burrs and foxtails that I am still picking off of them.

In the past, I’ve taken mountain photos of the dogs, but these have the most special meaning. They are photos of gratitude. I felt so fortunate to be in my favorite place with my four-legged companions at my side.

I have loved the mountains since I was a little girl. Now, if possible, I appreciate them even more. When your special place is closed to you, being able to return is a priceless gift. For a brief time, I was able put the pandemic out of my mind and focus on the positive.

Shouldn’t, Couldn’t, Wouldn’t

In this time of crisis, I thought that it might not be appropriate to write my posts. Then I was afraid I couldn’t or wouldn’t. Well here I am, doing it anyway.

ELBEE That’s a shocker.

A few friends asked me to keep up with my posts because they needed that brief break from reality. Wait, my posts are reality.

ELBEE That’s up for debate.

Like so many others, I haven’t quite been able to wrap my head around what is happening in our world. Not to minimize the pain and suffering associated with COVID-19, but daily life has changed drastically.

We are all spending the majority of time at home. The sports schedules are blank. Schools and businesses are closed. The husband went to the market at 7:00 this morning during “senior happy hour,” hoping to get a few essentials.

ELBEE She forgot to mention that in a few more weeks we’re going to know everyone’s real hair color.

Thank goodness for family, friends, the mountains and the Doods. They have been my support. They have kept me grounded.

The daughters check in by text and phone but it’s hard not to be able to see them or the grandkids. Kudos to Nicole, the middle daughter, who is an ICU nurse on the front lines. Her courage amazes me.

I am grateful for the calls and messages from friends. Their caring touches my heart. Their humor brings much needed laughter.

The mountains, as always, are my refuge, my sanctuary, my spiritual place. There are a lot more people up there than usual but everyone is being respectful of social distancing.

This week, on a gorgeous day between rain storms, I was hiking with my friend Shelli. With the views and the spring flowers, it was hard to believe what was happening down below. We took these photos to capture some of our joy in the moment.

ELBEE Why does Shelli have a normal picture while someone else is doing a double biceps?

Last but not least, Gus and Stanley aren’t going into the hospitals so the husband and I each have our own personal therapy dogs. They follow us around the house, kind of like stalkers, in a good way. As my friend Alice said, she and her dog have become unusually close.

Seriously, they have offered unconditional love and acceptance. Delighted that we’re home, they’re content just to sit by our sides or watch me write. They bring a calm presence that overcomes anxiety. They don’t judge or ask why, they simply comfort.

Stanley’s Perfect Day

Stanley is more attention seeking then the average Doodle and that’s saying a lot. On a scale of one to ten, he’s probably a ten. He’s like the poster child for attention seeking. At home, he borders on being a stalker.

The other morning I was brushing my teeth when I saw the bathroom door open just a bit. There was Stanley staring at me.

STANLEY I’m kind of hurt by that stalker remark. My therapist says that I’m just a little co-dependent.

ELBEE That’s my boy.

Recently, I was asked if we could do a stress busters event on the same day that we visit the adult day health center. The timing was right and it was around the corner, so I figured why not. It turned out to be Stanley’s most perfect outing yet.

From the moment we walked into the adult center, Stanley acted as if he was greeting fans. And in a way, I guess he was. The staff had listed on the activity board that Stanley was going to be there so the participants were eagerly awaiting his arrival.

An older man, who always greets us enthusiastically, rushed toward the entrance as soon as he heard the front door chime. A severely autistic man who likes to spend a few minutes with Stanley came over to see him. As we made our way around the large room, we were accompanied by a very depressed man who only began smiling when Gus and Elbee visited. He now smiles for Stanley. All of the regulars were waving Stanley over, telling him how happy they were that he was back.

ELBEE I have tears in my eyes. I miss everyone there but I’m so proud.

Leaving the center, I drove a short distance to Granada Hills Charter High School. Just like UCLA does at Powell Library, many other schools are getting on board and holding stress buster events during finals. I could feel Stanley’s excitement when we entered the huge room filled with eager students.

As groups of kids took turns gathering around him and three other dogs, Stanley was in his glory. He flopped on the floor, went in for belly rubs, lay still for petting and cuddling. He had another captive audience and hammed it up for all he was worth.

My job main job that afternoon, as it always is with the dogs, was to watch out for Stanley’s well-being. I had to be sure that he wasn’t too stressed or too tired. From what I observed, I would say that Stanley was one of the most relaxed stress busters I’ve ever seen!

“De-stressing” with Stanley

**Stanley and Logan, Stress Busters Extraordinaire**

This week, Stanley and some of his canine colleagues from the People Animal Connection, visited Powell Library at UCLA to help the students deal with the stress of final exams. Gus is a pro at it but this was Stanley’s first time.

When he works an event that is new for him, I never know exactly what to expect. To my surprise, he was on such good behavior, it was hard to believe that he was the same dog who had caused all the chaos on Thanksgiving. He charmed everyone, students and faculty alike.

ELBEE The kid was good. I was very proud.

STANLEY As for Thanksgiving, I’m innocent. It was the grandson’s fault.

His love of attention, which can make him seem a little pushy, especially if he’s competing with Gus, was a complete asset in the library. When we first walked in, he showed some interest in the other dogs, but once the kids gathered around him, it was all over. He had a captive audience.

I could almost see it in his eyes as he figured it out. He cuddled. He happily accepted hugs. He put his head on available laps. He did his tricks like a pro. When he sprawled out for a belly rub it brought out the inevitable laughter. So many times I heard, as I often do, “He’s so funny.” Since that’s not your average dog compliment, it made me wonder, had he inherited it from his namesake?

My late brother Stan, a television director for many years at KTVU in San Francisco, had a gift for getting people to relax. When a celebrity would arrive at the studio either stressed out or stressing everyone else out, Stan had a trick for turning the situation around.

An expert at tv and movie trivia, he’d remember one of the very first shows they’d ever done, and would probably much rather forget, and tell them how much he’d enjoyed it. His demeanor was so lovable and friendly that they’d inevitably end up laughing.

He did magic as a hobby but his humor and the way he put people at ease was magic unto itself. How special if that magic lives on in Stanley. I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful gift of the season. Thank you Stanleys past and present.

When Ordinary Becomes Extraordinary

There is a certain rhythm to working with the Doods but then, and always to my surprise, something extraordinary happens. A recent day at UCLA started out in the usual fashion. Gus bounced out of the car in front of the hospital, tail wagging, greeting everyone in his path.

After stops in the lobby, the volunteer center and administration, we made our way up to neuropsych on the fourth floor. The kids in our first unit were so exuberant, it was as if the circus had come to town. Barely containing their excitement, they gathered around Gus on the floor, laughing, petting him, hugging him. They couldn’t seem to get close enough. That is, except for one adolescent girl who sat off to the side, her face expressionless.

When we had seen her previously, she had remained that way, “isolative,” as the therapist explained to me, throughout out entire visit. She stayed on the periphery, not reacting or participating. I also learned that she doesn’t like to come out of her room except when the dogs are there.

This week I sensed something slightly different in her demeanor. She was sitting in the same spot, removed from the group, but I saw a flicker of interest when Gus did his tricks. She even inched a bit closer while still keeping her distance from the other kids. When I asked her if she’d like one of his trading cards, she shook her head no. When I asked if she’d like me to bring Gus over to her, I got a barely audible “yes.”

Observing her behavior, the therapist asked if she’d like to take a walk with me and Gus as a special treat. That got a yes, and the trace of a smile. With both of us holding his leash, we started down the hallway together. As we walked side by side, I could feel the girl relax. With a little encouragement she began to pet Gus.

I’m not sure what it is, but there is something about his soft, fluffy coat that captivates and relaxes people. That young girl was no exception. Before I knew it, she was on the floor gently hugging him.

After a few minutes, we continued walking to the end of the hall. When we reached the door and it was time for us to leave, the therapist looked at her and asked if she knew the dog’s name. With no hesitation and with a big smile on her face, she said, “Gus.” Then the therapist asked her if she knew my name. With an even bigger grin, she turned to me and said, “Ellen.” At that moment, ordinary became extraordinary.

Strike Busters?

ELBEE A few days ago I did something for the first time in my storied career as a therapy dog. I crossed a picket line. I’m not a scab. I’m more like Switzerland. Besides, I’m a lover not a fighter.

GUS Surprisingly, I’m slightly more political than Elbee. Remember, I ran for mayor but I did run as an independent (Gus for Mayor?).

This week, as part of a larger movement, there was a 3-day strike at UCLA Medical Center. It included service employees (e.g. nutrition, housekeeping, security) as well as patient care technicians (e.g. respiratory therapists, radiology technicians). Also involved were healthcare professionals such as pharmacists and social workers. Many nurses were on strike for part of the period.

Wednesday, our scheduled day at the hospital, the strike was going to be in full swing. I was given the option of staying home with the Doods if I felt uncomfortable. After some consideration, I decided to bring them in. It wasn’t at all a politically motivated decision. It was more about bringing comfort when and where it was most needed.

When we arrived at the hospital, the picket line was stretched across the driveway. I admit it was a bit intimidating. Then one of the strikers held up his hand to signal the crowd to let us through.

Our first stop was at the command center in the basement. Several people were sitting in a line of desks against the wall, waiting to deal with whatever problems might arise. After greeting everyone and sensing that they could really use a break, I asked if they’d like to see the dogs do some tricks. I got an enthusiastic group “yes.”

ELBEE Pack Leader can’t resist a captive audience but the little guy and I were fabulous and got a big round of applause.

If I still had any doubts about bringing the dogs in that morning, they faded away as we visited our regular neuropsych units. A girl on the verge of tears gave a shy grin when Gus curled up in her lap. A severely disturbed teen who had barely responded to the dogs on our last visit, smiled and chatted as he interacted with them. Another patient, who knew the dogs well, laughed and called out “encore” after they did a few tricks. From the time we arrived until the time we left, the mood was light and happy.

Once back in the lobby, I lost count of how many staff, patients and family members came over to hug and pet Elbee and Gus. Many quietly thanked us for being there. Even a police officer we met enjoyed a moment of stress relief.

Driving home, I felt very emotional as I thought about the morning. Therapy dogs don’t take sides. They don’t judge. They offer comfort to whomever needs it. They are there to heal, to love, to provide moments of calm. Simply put, they do their job, albeit in a spectacular way.

Bill Murray Said…

Who ever thought that I would be quoting Bill Murray in a post?

ELBEE I loved him in Groundhog Day!

I was watching Bill Murray on a talk show promoting his new movie Isle of Dogs when he said, “Dogs are here to enlighten the people who are their caretakers.” I thought that was absolutely true. I couldn’t have agreed more. Their instincts are accurate. Their interactions with all sorts of people are pure and non-judgmental. They’re intuitive. I learn from them every day. He was right. They really are enlightening.

THE DOODS Wait, is she saying those fabulous things about us?

I would add, they are also here to care for the people who are their caretakers. During the emotional month of March, Elbee and Gus worked overtime comforting people. This week they comforted me.

I’ve shared that my grandson Ryder, one of the bravest two year olds on the planet, was born with Hirschprungs disease. It’s a complicated illness, that in simple terms, causes intestinal dysfunction. He’s had so many procedures and surgeries that all of the wonderful nurses at Good Samaritan Hospital in San Jose welcome him like a local celebrity.

Recently he had another operation so I went up to help out and to offer some moral support. I am in awe of the way my youngest, Danielle, her husband Jay and their four year old Bella handle everything that’s thrown their way. They are strong and resilient but it gets more difficult, especially as Ryder gets older. The little guy is a fighter but it’s tough to see him in pain as he recovers.

I confess that as the mom and grandma, I wish that I could do more. No matter the age of your child, toddler, teen or adult, you want to be able to comfort and protect them. Fortunately, everyone is doing better at the moment.

When I walked into the house after my flight home, exhausted from the emotional overload, Gus and Elbee went right to work. They didn’t even give me the usual guilt trip that I get after having the nerve to abandon them for a day or two.

ELBEE Helloo! She just said that we were intuitive. And under the circumstances, I’ll let the guilt trip comment slide.

They gave me the most enthusiastic greeting. There was hysterical barking, crying, licking. I was so happy to see them that I didn’t mind the slobber.