Stress.
It's one of those things that everyone has, to some degree. Everyone reacts differently to it too. After one of the major collegiate shootings a few years back, I read an article about how in traumatically stressful situations (such as that) people either act or freeze. It's a derivative of the "fight or flight" syndrome. Some people either act quickly- blocking doors with desks, moving swiftly and efficiently to protect themselves and others and often putting themselves in harms way doing so. Others, although they have the best intentions, are physically unable to act or react. Frozen- unable to run and unable to help themselves or others.
I've never, ever been in a situation that I would consider to be that dire. (Thank God for that, might I add!) I do think that, as a nurse, I've been in several situations that require swift action and reaction, and honestly I loved that kind of adrenaline. I can act, move, help, think and do in "do or die" situations. I agree with the theory that people either act or freeze; but I'd like to add a third option to the table as well. The "Ducks" of the world.
I'm a duck.
Professional stresses aside, here.
Personal stress causes me to go into duck mode. I often have friends tell me they think I handle stress very well. I'm usually methodical and precise with my analysis of things; able to separate emotion from logic. I can stand back, assess the situation and react to the best of my ability.
What they often don't know is that under the surface I'm paddling like the dickens.
Recently, Madigan was sick. I picked her up from daycare after work and she looked so pale white and had red eyes. I saw her and before I could speak, she said "mama, I'm sick." I took her home and called her clinic. Of course it was 4:30 on a Friday, and we were scheduled to go out of state so I could do five photoshoots. Just looking at her, I knew what was coming. I called two clients and cancelled before her clinic could call me back. I took her right in, and they confirmed what I knew: croup. Her oxygen levels were in the 80's (too low for a two year old!) so her provider said as gently as possible: "she needs to be hospitalized." A racemic epinephrine treatment, chest x-ray, steroids, albuterol and an oxygen tent later, our weekend plans were completely changed. Action was my coping mechanism- I was calling and texting while I was cuddling, cajoling and bribing my child. A duck- calm on the surface while underneath I was screaming at the lab tech who was digging for a vein, and angry at the daycare for not calling me and telling my kid was sick.
I knew the croup would pass, I knew my daughter would be healthy again very quickly. I was thankful for that, but underneath I was just as scared as any other mother would have been. Paddling like the dickens, not getting anywhere too fast for doing it.
I'm a duck.
What are you?
