My Brain AVM: Thoughts on Pain

I’ve talked before about how I have a lot of privilege, considering that I had a brain AVM that required surgical intervention and that I’m now disabled. Part of that privilege is that the whole journey came with very little physical pain.  I’ve had some reminders of that recently.


Vector illustration - red grunge stamp with "PAIN" written in white letters. Keyword: brain AVM

Image Description: Vector illustration – red grunge stamp with “PAIN” written in white letters

Content Note: Chronic pain, stroke, brain surgery, dental work, friend death, Hurricane Harvey, Hurricane Irma, Hurricane Maria, Puerto Rico hurricane damage, Las Vegas mass shooting

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I got a terrible headache when my brain AVM first leaked and caused a hemorrhagic stroke in the middle of a job interview. I know now that my pain tolerance is pretty high, because I not only finished the interview (and got the job), I walked to the doctor’s office and then walked home. I sometimes get migraines, and it’s not the pain that sends me to the hospital (even though the pain certainly isn’t pleasant)…it’s that my migraines make me throw up, and after a while I have to get a shot of Gravol to settle my stomach enough to let me keep my seizure medication down.

But, like most people, I don’t like pain, and I’m glad that I didn’t experience much of it with my brain AVM and stroke. I had some awful headaches after the surgery to treat my brain AVM, but who wouldn’t have headaches after having their head opened?

My friend Jason, who had a stroke when he was a bit older than me (not related to a brain AVM; he was in a car accident) wasn’t so lucky. His stroke came with central post-stroke pain. He didn’t talk about it much, but his mother once told me that he almost always had intense pain in his affected hand. I don’t know if I could have dealt with that and stayed as positive as I have through my recovery.

I’ve had periods since my stroke where I’ve dealt with chronic pain. Specifically, I’ve injured my weak leg a couple of times, badly enough that at times even a short walk to town was too painful to think about. But the pain ended with rest, elevation, and ice.

Mouth and teeth pain is a whole different ball game.

Pain That Won’t Be Ignored

At the beginning of September, my teeth were sore – all of them, it seemed. My head was aching. My ear, which had been hurting on-and-off all summer for no reason that any doctor could find, was aching. I was pretty sure that I knew what was wrong, but a trip to my dentist confirmed my suspicions that I’d been grinding my teeth again, and needed to started wearing my mouthguard to bed at night.

“Why haven’t you been wearing your mouthguard?” my dentist asked,

“Because I don’t like it,” I said, feeling (and probably sounding) like a mopey five-year-old.

“You need to wear it, or this will keep happening.”

So I did. And when the headaches and mouth pain didn’t go away, I figured that it was just because I’d made my muscles especially sore, and went about my business. Until one day, when it felt like the side of my face literally exploded – I didn’t know that teeth could hurt that much, and with my head pounding and the stabbing pain in my ear, my dentist got me in for a same-day appointment. He armed me with prescriptions for antibiotics to treat an infected tooth and Tylenol 3s for pain control, and I went home and cried on the couch while I waited for the pills to kick in.

I’m now two weeks after a root canal, perhaps looking at surgery to remove wisdom teeth that have just broken through after not moving for twenty years, and still apparently grinding my teeth somehow without knowing it, because my mouth and/or head/ear is always hurting to some degree. I have a muscle relaxant that I can take daily to deal with the muscle pain caused by the teeth grinding, and if I take ibuprofen throughout the day I can usually keep the pain reasonably at bay. But when I’m home I often have a cold can of pop held to my jawline on the right side of my face, because…numb is good.

And sometimes I still cry, because even with the muscle relaxant, and the ibuprofen, and the cold pop can, everything hurts. And I really didn’t realize until this round of mouth pain just how powerless it makes you feel, to be in a lot of pain and know that there’s nothing you can do about it.  It’s lonely. It’s exhausting. I can see why having to deal with severe chronic pain drains people and makes them depressed. I can see why it makes them desperate.

I’m looking at people who have to deal with chronic pain with new empathy, and I have a renewed sense of gratitude for the privilege of getting through this brain AVM journey relatively pain-free.

Jason died a few years back from complications related to other injuries he sustained during the car accident. I miss him, but I’m glad he’s not in pain anymore.

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Pardon me while I get a little political.

Friends in the US are having a very difficult time right now – hurricanes, health care uncertainty, and yesterday a horrific mass shooting in Las Vegas. I struggled to find what I wanted to say about it, and then decided to leave words far wiser than any I could come up with…

…and ask you to please consider doing what you can to support humanitarian efforts in Las Vegas and in areas of the US affected by the recent wave of hurricanes, especially Puerto Rico.

Here’s a list of links:

Support for Victims of Las Vegas Mass Shooting

Support for Puerto Rico – Hurricane Maria

Support for Florida, Louisiana, Puerto Rico, and Texas – Hurricane Harvey, Hurricane Irma, Hurricane Maria

Portlight – Portlight was created specifically to provide emergency aid during weather disasters to disabled people whose needs might otherwise cause them to fall through the cracks. Portlight is helping with relief efforts for all hurricanes.

More of My Writing About Disability and Emergency Preparedness

Manatee County “Interpreter” Signs Nonsense ASL at Hurricane Irma Press Conference

I’m surprised that it took me until early this week to hear about this story, because it does appear that it was covered by several media outlets. But here we are. I only heard on the September 19th edition of The Daily Show that Manatee County in Florida fucked up with its ASL interpretation during a televised press conference designed to get evacuation information out to citizens just before Hurricane Irma hit.

Content Note: Ableism, Weather Emergency, Emergency Planning, Privilege, Classism, Disrespect, PWD as an afterthought

Young white woman wearing a orange shirt holds her hands in front of her, just above chest level, palms facing her with her thumbs up and fingertips almost touching. Her nail polish is orange, and her hair is strawberry blonde. She is smiling. Keyword: Manatee County

Image Description: Young white woman wearing a orange shirt holds her hands in front of her, just above chest level, palms facing her with her thumbs up and fingertips almost touching. Her nail polish is orange, and her hair is strawberry blonde. She is smiling.

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Seriously, Florida?

It’s this sort of thing that makes disabled people one of the most vulnerable groups in America when it comes to weather emergencies, as I’ve written about before.

The issue isn’t that Manatee County didn’t think about providing ASL interpretation, as you can see in this video. The person who uploaded this video captioned it with what the interpreter is signing, and I think it’s clear what the main issue is.

But for those who don’t want to/can’t watch the video…the issues are:

This is unacceptable and infuriating, for a few reasons.

To Start…

Certified interpreters were available. Florida Governor Rick Scott used interpreter Sam Harris:

Sarasota County also used a qualified interpreter at its news conferences.

VisCom, a company that has provided Manatee County with interpreters in the past, wasn’t called about providing services for Hurricane Irma communications. Charlene McCarthy, the founder of VisCom, had offered to send in an interpreter for a September 9 press conference in Manatee County, but her offer was declined; no interpreter was used for that press conference.

For some reason, Manatee County decided not to use an interpreter. It’s not as if no one was anticipating the need for a press conference; the media started talking about Irma and where she would at least potentially hit just after Hurricane Harvey landed.

Meet Me At Camera Three, Manatee County Administration

All this brings one word to mind: afterthought. Deaf and hard-of-hearing people were an afterthought as you prepared to get potentially life-and-death information to your residents about a weather emergency. Think about what it must feel like to know you’re an afterthought.

It’s this half-ass attitude toward accessibility that continues to give disabled people the impression that their communities of residence don’t value their money, skills, desire to give back to their communities, or (in this case) even their lives. Go ahead and deny that this was the message you meant to send, Manatee County – it’s the message that you *did* send, with your failure to take simple steps to ensure that Deaf and hard-of-hearing people in your communities got the same access to the life-and-death press conference information that hearing people did.

You owe your Deaf and hard-of-hearing communities an apology, and a promise that this won’t happen again.

And for Those of You Who’d Tell Me…

You know who you are, you keyboard warriors.

Yes, you. The ones making comments like these on the internet coverage:

  • Deaf people activate CLOSED CAPTIONING on their tv sets. I guess numbnuts in government and around the country are unaware of that secretive tidbit of information. They also get text messages, emails, instant messages and communications from each other/family and read local news. They can translate audio to text. It’s not like a reeetarded interpreter is their only source in the year 2017. Duhhh
  • “I think what is shocking is that in 2017, taxpayers have to pay for that nonsense. they practically give away voice to text software, and there are plenty of free apps that would instantaneously give the devil a much more complete picture of what the officials are saying…Shameful waste of money.”
  • “Considering the few people who require this, it was a waste of time anyhow”
  • “Reminds me of the fake sign language interpreter at Nelson Mandela’s Memorial, standing right next to Barry O and flailing about – that was quality comedy!”

Listen, folks. There are whole bunch of reasons why these comments are disgusting, but I don’t even need to get into them, because they’re all invalid for one, simple, legal reason:

Title II of the ADA dictates that “state and local governments must ensure that their communications, including emergency communications, are fully accessible to people with disabilities.” 

Accessibility is the law, and it’s been that way in America for 27 years. End of story.

But the fact that people felt comfortable letting fly with that sort  of ableist (not to mention classist, in some cases) shit  in the comments section of a story about how Manatee County’s lack of preparation meant that a group of disabled people didn’t get emergency information about a Category 5 hurricane….well, it made me feel ill. I wanted to draw some attention to it.

That sort of willful ignorance about the challenges that disabled face from the people in their  communities – well, it’s beyond disappointing.  It’s gross, really.

Seriously, America. Grow up.

Canada continues to send its thoughts and prayers for those affected by the recent hurricanes…

Interesting article on captioning vs ASL

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Forgetting May 29th – My Stroke Story

I wrote this when I was hosted at Medium, because when I moved there I lost the page on which I’d posted my stroke story…but I thought I’d post it here again anyway. Enjoy!

Content Note: Stroke and Stroke Recovery, Arteriovenous Malformation (AVM), Unexpected Medical Problems/Surgery/Hospitalization/Disability, Brain Surgery, Privilege

Cartoon of a woman on the phone saying, "I got kicked out of the hospital today...apparently "Stroke Patients Here" didn't mean what I thought it did!" Keyword: Stroke

Image Description: Cartoon of a woman on the phone saying, “I got kicked out of the hospital today…apparently “Stroke Patients Here” didn’t mean what I thought it did!”

***

 I realized two things last week:

  • The page that had my story on it didn’t travel over from from my WordPress blog when I moved to Medium.
  • May 29th came and went, again.

So as much as I don’t like talking about myself, I figured that I’d better put something up here on Medium about who I am and how I came to be here.

The story actually starts on November 7, 1999, when I had a small hemorrhagic stroke in the middle of a job interview in Parksville, British Columbia. I didn’t realize at the time that I was having a stroke; I thought that the sudden, intense headache was due to a migraine. I wouldn’t learn until that night, when I’d gone to the hospital because my neck was hurting and I was concerned that I had meningitis, that there was blood in my cerebrospinal fluid.

That’s bad, apparently. Bad enough that the hospital called my father in Ontario and suggested that he fly out. By the time he got there the next day, I was in a hospital in Victoria, and I’d been diagnosed with an arteriovenous malformation (AVM) in my brain that had started to leak.

AVMs, according to the National Institute of Mental Health are “abnormal, snarled tangles of blood vessels that cause multiple irregular connections between the arteries and veins.” AVMs can occur anywhere in the body, but brain AVMs are particularly problematic; they “damage the brain and spinal cord by reducing the amount of oxygen reaching neurological tissues, bleeding into surrounding tissue (hemorrhage) that can cause stroke or brain damage.”

My AVM had been with me since birth, but no one had any idea it was there until it announced itself when I was 22; because I’d not had a reason to have any imaging on my head done until it bled, no one had seen it. It would need to be treated, which could be done with radiation, embolization (inserting a special glue into the AVM via a catheter through the arterial network), or craniotomy (open brain surgery), depending on the AVM’s size and position. I could get treatment in Vancouver or Toronto. I chose to go back to Ontario to be treated at the AVM Clinic at Toronto Western Hospital. After looking at my films, the surgical team determined that with a 4% (non-cumulative) chance of bleeding each year, my brain AVM would almost certainly bleed again, and might cause damage next time. Their recommendation was to try and reduce its size with an embolization, and to then remove it via craniotomy.

Which brings us to May 29, 2000. Seventeen years ago.

I remember the night after the embolization surgery, but the days after the craniotomy are fuzzy. I’ve captured some of my first memories in Finger Spelling.

I remember the seizure that accompanied the stroke, a couple of days after the craniotomy, but I don’t remember a moment where I woke up and thought, “I can’t move my left side.” It was more a gradual realization that this heaviness was real and not going away — the doctors were evaluating my level of paralysis, and physiotherapists were coming in and tossing my arm and leg around, and sometimes people would adjust my arm because I’d moved and it was pulling on my shoulder because it had stayed where it was…

I needed help to sit up in bed, and help to lie down.

I needed help to get dressed and undressed.

Walking was out of the question. While the team tried to stabilize my seizures with IV medications, I was bedridden; the few times nurses got me up to sit in a chair by the window, I was exhausted within minutes.

Because I was now forced to use my non-dominant arm and hand, everything I did was painfully slow and inelegant: brushing my hair and teeth, eating, writing (when it was vital for me to do it).

I was in the hospital five weeks, and then I went to an inpatient stroke rehabilitation hospital. The transfer there was so stressful that I spent most of the first day vomiting. I yelled at my night nurse to leave me alone, because I was never going to walk again. I don’t remember that; I was told later.

Seventeen Years Later

I used to remember November 7 and May 29 every year, but now they tend to slip by me, unnoticed. They’re two more days where I do what I do: go to work, feed my cats, work on my writing, watch Colbert (taped; I’m trying to go to bed earlier), fool around on Facebook…

Some people call the day they had their stroke their “re-birthday” but that’s never made much sense to me. Nothing about me died to be reborn the day I had my stroke except some brain cells. I guess in that way I’ve kind of rejected the recovery movement as well, because I see so many people waiting until they’re “better” to live again, instead of constructing a life that they want to live as they’re getting “better”.

Not that there’s nothing wrong with working to make your weak side as functional as possible after a stroke, especially now that we know that the window for regaining function is much bigger than previously thought — after all, I’m still seeing very small gains in my hand over a long-term basis. But imagine if I’d sat around and waited to be sure I’d gained as much as I could in my left hand before learning to do things with my right hand? I would not be:

  • Living independently — making my own (albeit simple, but that’s okay — simple meals can be nutritious) meals, doing my own laundry and grocery shopping, taking care of my cats, keeping track of my finances, doing simple housework (I do have someone help me with housework), managing my healthcare
  • Working part-time in the community and part-time as a self-employed individual.
  • Travelling on my own — as close as Toronto (4 hr bus ride), as far as Mississippi (5 hrs by plane with a stop in DC on the way over and Chicago on the way back) and out to BC and back again by plane. Further with people with me.
  • Educating myself — Finishing up my degree in Psychology, completing the Developmental Services Worker diploma on campus at Loyalist College, completing technical writing training by distance from Simon Fraser University
  • Advocating for myself and other disabled people as an internationally-known disability activist.

Life happens as recovery happens, so might as well get prepared as soon as possible.

Dealing with Challenges

I still definitely face challenges. I was very lucky in that not long after I felt able to work, I got a great part-time job in my field that I found enjoyable and fulfilling. But I lost the job after few years because of funding concerns. Work has been difficult to find with my disabilities, and always part-time and low-security. I started writing the Girl With the Cane blog during a particularly long stretch of unemployment.

I’m learning that as I approach middle age, I’m not as resilient as I once was. I fell last winter and fractured my kneecap and I’m still experiencing a lot of pain. Several months later, I still can’t walk nearly as much as I’ve been able to in the past, which is very frustrating; not being able to at least walk to and from town and work like I used to feels like a big blow to my independence. I ask for help with transportation much more than I used to. I had a major seizure last September after being seizure-free for a few years, so driving is a few years off even if I could afford a car.

Even after 17 years, asking for (and accepting) help doesn’t come easily, but I work at it.

Canadian and Privileged

Despite challenges, I feel lucky to live in Canada, where my medical treatment and rehabilitation didn’t put my family into major debt and where getting income support and help to pay for my medications as a disabled person who couldn’t work was relatively easy (compared to what I’ve heard it’s like in the US). These systems aren’t perfect and I’ve heard real horror stories, but I’ve been fortunate.

Privileged, even — I’m white, straight, cisgendered, and able to pay my bills, with affordable health care (including dental, medicine and eye exams) with the means to access it. My family is supportive and loving. I’ve only ever felt unsafe a very few times in my life.

I’m very fortunate, and I try to always remember this as I do what I can to make the world better for those that haven’t been as lucky as I have. Some days it doesn’t feel like I can do a whole lot, but sometimes you don’t need to do a whole lot to make a difference in someone’s life. So I do what I can and hope it’s enough.

I’m looking forward to forgetting May 29 next year. 🙂

 

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Jason Chaffetz, Health Care, and Privilege

CNN has been out at my place since yesterday, and I didn’t get a chance to get caught up on newsletters or internet because I was at work…but even from the little bit that I picked up about Trump’s new healthcare plan, I’m seeing problems.

Content Note: Classism, ableism, poor shaming, Trumpcare

Image Description: Red medical bag with a with white cross on it and a stethoscope resting on it. Keyword: Jason Chaffetz

Image Description: Red medical bag with a with white cross on it and a stethoscope resting on it.

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I like Obamacare. I was happy to see that so many people, particularly disabled people and people with pre-existing conditions, finally got healthcare. If I’d been American when my brain arteriovenous malformation was discovered, I doubt that any health insurance that my family could have afforded could have covered the cost of the surgery to repair it, let alone the cost of hospitalization and rehabilitation after the post-surgery stroke and the years of medical follow-ups. My surgery wasn’t emergency, but it was important — given that I was only 22 when my AVM caused my first brain bleed, it was likely to cause another, potentially much more serious one, but no one could say when. Would we, had we been Americans, decided to take postpone a costly surgery as long as possible, or not do it at all, and just hope for the best?

It might not have been an option. As a Canadian, I was able to make my decision based on the risks of having the surgery or not having it, and cost wasn’t a factor. Given that there was a 75% that they could treat the AVM with no ill effects, but later in life I might have another bleed while driving down the highway or holding a baby and potentially lose control of my left side, the choice seemed easy. I just hit that 10% that comes out of a major surgery in that area of the brain with severe damage, and that’s what happens when you play the odds. At least the AVM is fixed, and I didn’t have to worry about whether my healthcare was going to bankrupt my family.

I can work, but it’s complicated (ultimately because of my disabilities.) The jobs that I can do are usually part-time, low-wage, with no benefits. I’m one of the lucky ones — because I live in a low-rent building and because a government program covers the cost of my medications, I can still pay all my bills.

Jason Chaffetz, Healthcare, and Class Privilege

One of the bits about Trump’s new plan that I did hear yesterday (because it’s all over my Facebook feed) was the Jason Chaffetz interview with CNN. If you haven’t had a chance yet to hear the very definition of class privilege, take a listen (or read the transcript below the video, from 1:47 to 3:02):

Alisyn Camerota: What if it leaves lower-income Americans uninsured?

Jason Chaffetz: Well, we want them to be able to provide, have a method so that they can get access to it. There are things that we really do like, for instance dealing with pre-existing conditions, allowing people up to the age of 26 to —

Alisyn Camerota: You’re going to keep those tenets?

Jason Chafferz: Yup, these arbitrary lines of states —

Alisyn Camerota: Sure.

Jason Chafferz: So I think there’s a lot of good things that we need to —

Alisyn Camerota: But access for lower-income Americans doesn’t equal coverage.

Jason Chaffetz: Well, we’re getting rid of the individual mandate. We’re getting rid of those things that people said that they don’t want. And you know what? Americans have choices. And they’ve gotta make a choice. So maybe rather than getting that new iPhone that they just love and that they want to go and spend hundreds of dollars on, maybe they should go invest in their own healthcare. They’ve got to make those decisions themselves.

Alisyn Camerota: So, in other words, for lower-income Americans you’re saying that this is going to require some sacrifice on their part.

Jason Chaffetz: Well, we’ve got to be able to actually lower the cost of healthcare. I mean, one of the things we’re concerned about is healthcare inflation is just consuming the American budget, both for the families and and at the federal government. We have to be able to drive those cost curves down and provide good quality access. We do think that with more choice, that you will get a better product at a lower price, and that’s good for everybody on the entire spectrum of income.

Chaffetz goes on to say later that a potential outcome of the plan is more access, less coverage (3:54).

Let’s run down Jason Chaffetz’s assumptions about lower-income Americans and their lives, as indicated by this conversation:

  1. They’re frivolous and don’t make good spending decisions.
  2. They have money that they can put into saving for healthcare and just aren’t doing it.
  3. They should sacrifice even items that arguably aren’t even luxury (many people don’t use a land line anymore and depend on a cell phone) to bring down health care costs for everyone, when it doesn’t seem that he’s holding higher-income Americans to the same standard.

There’s also an implication that giving up that cell phone should be enough to provide people savings enough to get all the coverage they need, when the new plan has shown no proof of that so far. This tweet talks about the cost of a phone vs the cost of a young woman’s ankle surgery.

The GOP Doesn’t Like Low-Income Americans

It’s a relief that Trump has decided to keep the Obamacare regulations on pre-existing conditions and staying on parents’ plans until 26, and that he’s committed to making the plan portable across state lines. And when Jason Chaffetz went on FOX to further explain his comments, after social media exploded, he said that, “What we’re trying to say — and maybe I didn’t say it as smoothly as I possibly could — but people need to make a conscious choice and I believe in self-reliance. And they’re going to have to make those decisions.” That sounds much better than the plan he described on CNN.

However, I wouldn’t forget his words in that first CNN interview. GOP policies regarding low-income Americans tend to be punitive, assuming that all low-income people are either out to scam the system or irresponsible, and that higher-income people are deserving of better treatment. When we consider that the GOP also wants to cut Medicare, this healthcare bill as described by Chaffetz on CNN is all those things; even though he’s tried to walk it back, we shouldn’t be shocked if that’s exactly what Trump’s healthcare plan turns out to be.

The American Medical Association agrees that the current version of “Trumpcare” won’t provide adequate health care for vulnerable Americans. AMA President Andrew W. Gurman said in a press release about Trumpcare:

“The AMA supported health system reform legislation in 2010 because it was a significant improvement on the status quo at the time; and although it was imperfect, we continue to embrace its primary goal — making high-quality, affordable health coverage accessible to all Americans,” AMA President Andrew W. Gurman, M.D. said. “As drafted, the AHCA would result in millions of Americans losing coverage and benefits. By replacing income-based premium subsidies with age-based tax credits, the AHCA will also make coverage more expensive — if not out of reach — for poor and sick Americans. For these reasons, the AMA cannot support the AHCA as it is currently written.”

Other groups have joined the AMA in its stance, including the American Hospital Association and the American Academy of Family of Physicians.

I’m Worried

Canadian healthcare is far from perfect. Obamacare wasn’t perfect either. And I’m only learning about this new plan, and I’m willing to see how it pans out.

But I’m worried, even just after hearing Chaffetz’s CNN interview, that disabled people who can’t work and other groups living in poverty are going to suffer under this new bill. Please be prepared to fight for them.

They need your voice.

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Trump Wins the Election – Thoughts on What Happens Now

It’s taken me a couple of days to figure out what I want and need to write about Election Night 2016 and Donald Trump’s win.

Beside a country road, yellow diamond road sign says "Donald Trump Ahead"

Image Description: Beside a country road, yellow diamond road sign says “Donald Trump Ahead”

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So, Donald Trump and Election Night 2016.

 I was on the verge of tears for 3 days afterward. I don’t think that this is totally the election; I’ve got some Seasonal Affective Disorder, and while the end of Daylight Savings Time is much easier for me to handle now than it has been in the past, it still does somewhat throw me for a loop a bit, moodwise.

And what to say about the election? Like most people, I was surprised that Donald Trump won. And I’ve been heartbroken. And scared for the future of both my American friends, and for the world.

Donald Trump and Conflicting Feelings

Surprised that he won, yes. But not shocked. Not as much as some people were, I don’t think, because I’ve felt for a long time that Clinton’s campaign wasn’t as strong as people were saying it was. Was she the best option of the two of them?

Without a fucking doubt. But was I fully comfortable with her? No.

But I think that Canadians have less of a problem than Americans do with voting someone in with whom they’re not fully comfortable if it means keeps a less desirable candidate out, and I don’t know why that is.

However, I rarely talked about my discomfort with Clinton openly. I felt really uncomfortable doing so around other liberals, especially women. It just wasn’t worth drawing the castigation of her supporters (and that’s what it really did feel like — castigation.)

I’ve read a number of theories now about why the election played out the way it did, and more and more I’m liking the one that talks about the Trump Silent Majority — the voters, mostly rural, with whom his message of an improved economy and more American jobs really resonated. Not necessarily racists and homophobes (although some of them certainly were, from the media coverage that I saw) — but hard-working people to whom even the middle-class struggling to make ends meet looks elite. I’ve lived in a very small town in a rural area for most of my life. I knew immediately what pundits meant when they started talking about the Trump Silent Majority. I can’t speak personally to the challenges that it faces, because I grew up in a middle-class family where both parents had good jobs; even now, as a white, straight, disabled person working, renting in the area and able to pay all my bills each month, and living in a country where my healthcare expenses are covered, I look at all of this from a very privileged position. But I have an idea of what the challenges are. And I can empathize with feeling powerless to change your own life. It does fuel a sort of desperation, particularly when it’s accompanied with economic hardship and the difficult decisions that go with that (I have been unemployed long-term; it was much more stressful than I imagined it would be.)

For whatever reason, these people felt heard by Donald Trump, in a way that they felt the government hasn’t been hearing them. They saw Clinton as part of the government establishment that hasn’t been hearing them, and she just couldn’t convince them that she could. The Democrats should spend some time asking themselves, before the next election, why that was.

Again, for the Record — I Don’t Like Donald Trump

I watched the entire 18 months of Donald Trump’s campaign. I think he’s a liar and a bully, a racist, misogynistic, petty excuse of a man who is immensely privileged in many ways and can’t — won’t — examine it. But he also won the Presidency fair and square and, as Hillary Clinton said herself in her very classy acceptance speech, he deserves the chance to lead. This sentiment has been echoed by Barack Obama, Bernie Sanders, and Elizabeth Warren.

It doesn’t mean you have to like him.

It doesn’t mean you have to approve of the action he takes.

Don’t Give Up Your Power

It doesn’t mean that if Donald Trump does indeed start to restrict the rights of American citizens that you shouldn’t make your voices heard. In fact, given that he talked in his campaign about restricting the rights of American citizens, you should probably be planning for what you’ll do when that happens. What non-violent, legal protest are YOU willing to engage in? Who will join you? Reminder: Protest comes in many forms. What are your talents? How can you put them to use?

We’re all angry and hurting right now, but please don’t stay there forever. Take the time that you need to mourn, and then channel that energy into something that will bring about change. Lots of organizations are going to need to more volunteer power than ever to buffer vulnerable people against the changes that Donald Trump’s proposed changes could bring. Again, what are your talents? What can you offer to these organizations? Even a little bit of time helps.

Some liberal women that I’ve talked to have decided, in light of Donald Trump’s talk about defunding Planned Parenthood, to set up monthly donations to that organization. They do a lot for women’s health and could certainly use the money regardless of whether their government funding is stopped.

Here is a list of American pro-women, pro-immigrant, pro-Earth, anti-bigotry organizations that need support.

You are not powerless. Please remember that.

Remember the Children

I think it’s particularly important to reassure children who are upset by Donald Trump’s election that there are adults in the country who are committed to keeping them safe. Children have absorbed too much of what’s been said in this election, I think — with social media such a force in their lives from such a young age, it’s hard for them not to. I was exposed to Canadian politics from a fairly young age (CBC radio was always on in my house) and I had an idea before I was 10 years old which federal politicians my parents didn’t especially like…but I wasn’t sure why. I knew broadly that there was big stuff going on with my country — that Quebec wanted to leave, that there were scandals going on within the government…but it wasn’t until I was in my teens that people started to say, “Here’s how these grown-up issues will affect you.” I wasn’t asked to deal with the “grown-up” while I was still a child.

One of Stephen Colbert’s employees told a story on “The Late Show” last week about how his son woke him up on November 9th, asked him if Donald Trump had won, and burst into tears when he said yes. And that me profoundly sad. The kids have been listening much more closely than we thought they were, I think, and were saddled with some intense grown-up anxieties that their psyches weren’t designed to handle. We need to be more careful.

That’s what makes stories like the one that came out of Bret Harte Middle School in Los Angeles on Nov 12 so awful. The teacher in question, who told an 11-year-old student that Trump would deport her parents and leave her here to be placed in foster care, has been fired, but that’s not really the point. This is the stuff that you’re going to need to be prepared to call people on in the next 4 years, and to say to Donald Trump, “We need to know your stance on this, when people use your name to scare children in this manner. “ Whatever Donald Trump’s plans on immigration end up being, an adult that children are told they should trust using this sort of rhetoric in the classroom is inexcusable and an abuse of power, and not something that a President should want his name attached to.

Here’s another good article on protecting our children in the wake of the election.

The father…Colbert’s employee…his response to his son was perfect, by the way. Look for it in the video below, which I’ve also linked to because I liked what Colbert had to say about helping our kids deal with this. He’s been one of the media people that’s kept me sane for the last 18 months.

I hope that all of you are doing okay. I really do.

But While I’m Calling People Out…

If you’re a Clinton supporter and you think it’s okay to call Melania Trump names like “slut” (I’ve seen this in Facebook groups) and that it’s okay to hold up signs at protests that say “Rape Melania”, you need to stop and ask yourself if you really believe that Hillary Clinton would want you to express your support of her in this way.

I truly don’t believe that she would, and it makes me sad and angry when I see Clinton supporters engaging in this sort of behaviour. No woman deserves to raped, and I’m sure that anyone who wants to criticize Melania Trump can find reasons to do so without getting into slut-shaming.

And before you start to criticize her, please ask yourself if your anger is truly with her, or with her husband, and target it accordingly.

That’s all for now…please take good care of yourselves and each other…let’s try our best to stop the carnage.

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