Friday, August 12, 2022

 Friday, August 12, 2022

Last night on Hidden Brain, Shankar Vedantam talked about our need for affection. There was a period when parents were advised not to show affection to their children because it created dependence. Mothers were to think of themselves as dispensers of food and medical care, not affection or emotional support. It was an outgrowth of Behavioral Theory. My mother denied me affection. I thought it was just her problem because she was touch-averse. But no, this was an actual trend. The show didn't say when doctors were dispensing this information. I do know that Mike's mother got that advice. Mike often retold the story of how he was allowed to cry himself to sleep. As his mother also told the story, she sat in the living room and cried while Mike did. Holy cow!

  Harlow's experiment with his monkeys brought a different perspective to the role of affection in mothering. I lived across the street from his lab in the 60s. I went over to visit once. The only things I saw were the cages with the wire 'moms' and the cages with the terrycloth 'moms.' The lab tech who showed me around told me how the baby chimps preferred the terry cloth 'moms' over the wire ones. They would go without food if it meant letting go of the softer, terry-cloth ones. The experiment made clear a primate's need for physical contact. It was primary, maybe even greater than food.  

  My mother was not an affectionate woman. When writing this, I searched the Internet for when doctors gave this horrible recommendation. I found nothing on American doctors, but I did find information on parenting Guidelines in Nazi Germany. Parents were advised to ignore their children's emotional needs to toughen them up to be good soldiers for the German cause. From what I could make out, this advice fell on fertile ground. German parenting practices were harsh already and open to this draconian advice. My mother immigrated to America from Germany three years before I was born.

   I learned something new about Harlow's experiments. He went way beyond the wire versus terry cloth mom experiments. He became the poster boy for inhumane experimental practices.   He devised a 'mom' that put out barbs if the baby sought affection from 'her.' Holy cow! That resonated with me. That's what my mom did. I remember wanting to kiss her cheek so badly. She pushed me away as if I wanted to do something harmful to her. It was very frightening. Often, if I wanted to 'help' or do something I thought she would like, she would scream at me. In Harlow's experiments, the babies treated that way became obsessed with appeasing the 'mother' rather than abandoning her. I became obsessed with mine.

  In my case, the obsession led to a good result. I didn't pursue appeasing her. I 'gave up' and retreated and fought back. The retreat set the necessary boundary. As a result, I could invite her to spend the last years of her life living with Mike and me. While it wasn't a perfect relationship I would have liked, it was good enough. I wasn't afraid of her anymore. Unfortunately, the damage did affect other aspects of my life; it still does, even though she has been dead since October 16, 2001.

  I believe Mike's experience with his mother was comparable to mine. We bonded over the similarity. Affection and playfulness were hallmarks of our relationship. Besides that, we could resolve differences amicably.   

  The situation with my mother was more complex than the experiment with Harlow's monkeys. My mother wasn't a wire contraption with one response and one motivation. As one friend observed, my mother was a complex human being who was capable of love. Moreover, she did love her children passionately. Other friends told the story of reaching out to their parents. When their parents asked what they wanted, they responded, "Love." The parents, this is two unrelated sets, replied, "What do you think this is, a Hollywood movie?" My mother would never have responded that way.

  While I was shocked to recognize my experience with the barbed 'mother' in Harlow's experiments, I also think many children share this experience. Given the bad chances of recovering from that experience, I think I've done a pretty good job creating a productive, loving life. Much of my life was formed due to my relationship with my mother. Fortunately, I didn't see myself only as a victim. I saw myself as responsible for my recovery. Even the educational systems I have developed are in reaction to her. She got angry when I didn't know what she knew. I work hard to see it from the student's point of view and design the lessons accordingly.

 Today was the first day since my total hip replacement operation I walked all around the block, completing over three thousand steps to start the day. When I got home, I meditated. All spiritual work knocks me for a loop. I needed a nap afterward.

    I had my second post-operation appointment with Dr. Salassa today. I did a pre-check-in online. When I arrived at the site, I had to enter a password to let them know I was there. I sat in the waiting area for a while. Since few people were waiting, it seemed odd that my wait was that long. My phone rang. "This is Kaiser. You have an appointment with Dr. Salassa today."  "I'm sitting in the waiting area." I thought I hadn't pressed the send button. I often do that. When I checked, I saw I had.  

  At our last session, she told me I could do an online visit or in person. I chose in-person because she is such a delightful person to connect with. Today, she didn't seem thrilled to see me. There may have been other things going on in her life. She seemed a bit faded and frazzled. When I announced the PT thought I was way ahead of where most people are at this time, she nodded. I suspect she had me pegged before the surgery. She had had me walk down the hall to observe my gait. She said, "Are you always that conscious of your stride?" I wasn't sure how she interpreted that at the time.

    I had questions about what was possible. Yes, I could use a vibrating platform without concern for the hip. There are no movement limits for the hip with the anterior approach. I will be limited by scar tissue and fascia from before the surgery. I might never be able to cut my own toenails again.

       When I got home, I heard Yvette and Scott talking in his bedroom. She came out wearing a mask and announced he had Covid. He must have gotten it at the memorial celebration for Jared at My Bar. I wasn't concerned about possible contamination. First off, the current strain isn't a killer. I was never closer than at least six feet from Scott, and we only saw each other in the open-air parts of the house. There is a good chance I was never close enough to catch anything. But to be on the safe side, I called Kaiser. I wanted to know what I should do if I did come down with it. There is some medication available to people in my age bracket. She said to call Kaiser; they would contact my primary, who would prescribe the medication. I also told them to tell Dr. Salasa. 

Now, I was sorry I insisted on an in-person consultation.

  When I met up with Lutz during my evening walk, I told him I had been exposed to Covid and needed to keep a distance. Lutz regaled me with stories of Covid boring into the brain and causing dementia. Lutz has a gift for sharing inappropriate information. I told him to shut up. I didn't need to hear that right now. Brian, his son, was walking with him. He said, "He does that all the time." Lutz is a sweet, well-intended man who is missing a few synapses when it comes to understanding another person's perspective.

   On the other hand, he was amazing when he inspected five-year-old Sidney's bumps to see if he could determine the cause. He spoke to him gently and knelt by his side. Lutz is also the guy who flew over to Oahu to pick me up after the surgery. Where he's good, he's very, very good; where he's bad, he's horrid. Nay, Lutz is never horrid in my experience, only somewhat annoying.

  B stopped by to drop off more food from Nedda. He said she would call me to talk about the food. Ah, she was starting a business. I thought she was giving me the food as an act of caring because of the great work I did with her son. I will eat the food she provided, but none was to my taste. One dish looked delicious, with beautiful shrimps. Only I'm allergic to shrimp. I texted B and told him to pick it up and eat it himself.

   I watched Finding Ola on Netflix. Wow! This is good. It takes place in Eygpt, one of the modern Islamic countries. Ola doesn't wear a hijab while her mother does.   The script and the acting are fantastic. My only problem was I had trouble following the captions because I couldn't take my eyes off the performers.