Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Sort of like a broken bone, but not really November 3, 2022

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Look on the lower right side of my wrist to see the surgically-implanted plate, shaped like an ice scraper, and held in place by 10 screws. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo 2018)

WHEN I BROKE my right shoulder one summer and then a year later shattered my left wrist, I needed physical and occupational therapy. Muscles quickly weakened with my shoulder clamped immobile in a sling and my wrist secured in a splint. After months of in-person therapy and at-home exercises, I regained my strength and use of my shoulder and wrist. I felt grateful for the therapy, which was easily accessible and covered under my insurance (although I ended up paying because of my high deductibles).

I also got lots of encouragement following those bone breaks. Cards. Texts. Emails. Calls. Even some meals delivered. When you’re experiencing a health issue, it’s reassuring to feel the support of others.

Buttons photographed at the Northfield Public Library. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

But what if your health issue is a mental health issue? Do you have the same access to healthcare? Does your insurance plan offer sufficient coverage? How do friends and family respond?

A post, “Help needed—therapy information please” published a few days ago by Texas blogger Penny Wilson, and my personal interest prompted me to write on this topic. Penny is seeking information on affordable mental health therapy for her friend whose benefits are soon ending. She understands. Penny, too, faced the same problem when she needed therapy and her insurance would cover only three sessions. Three. Sessions. Penny writes, “3 sessions didn’t even begin to scratch the surface. After that, I was on my own to figure out how to pay for it.”

I’d like to think the experiences of Penny and her friend are the exception. But I don’t believe that, not for a second. First, unlike my easy access to therapy for my broken bones, accessing mental healthcare is difficult at best. At least in Minnesota. Waits are long, if psychiatrists and psychologists are even taking new patients. That often leaves individuals in a mental health crisis seeking care in an emergency room. Unless the hospital has an on-call mental health professional, this is not necessarily the best treatment option. But when you can’t access care any other way…

Whether insurance adequately covers mental health treatment and therapy seems debatable. For Penny and her friend, obviously not.

This message refers to the struggles with mental illness. (Minnesota Prairie Roots copyrighted file photo)

And then there’s the topic of personal support. Mostly, it’s lacking. Although we’ve made strides in reducing the stigma of mental illness, we have a long ways to go. Ask anyone who’s experienced a mental health crisis, whether directly or indirectly as a family member, and you will likely not hear stories of tangible support. No meals delivered. No cards sent. No texts. No emails. Primarily silence. There are, of course, exceptions.

Beyond the emotional toll, a mental health crisis can devastate individuals and families financially. Yet, there are no public fundraisers. Again, this traces to the stigma, the lack of understanding, not necessarily a lack of compassion.

Mental illness, in my opinion, is not viewed on the same level as say diabetes or cancer or other debilitating diseases. I’m not taking away from anyone who has dealt with those because they are horrible and awful. But so is a serious mental illness. There are no cures, no single plans of treatment that work for everyone. A med may ease symptoms and then it doesn’t and then it’s start over with a different med. The same for therapy. Imagine the exhaustion and frustration that can set in as individuals struggle to manage anxiety, depression, bipolar and more. It’s a lot.

A mental health-themed sculpture, “Waist Deep,” once stood outside the Northfield Library. This is such a strong visual of reaching for help. (Minnesota Prairie Roots file photo 2019)

So what’s the point of this post? The point is to educate and raise awareness. The point is to reduce the stigma of mental illness. The point is to encourage you—if you know someone struggling with mental health—to reach out, acknowledge, support. Act. Support their families, too. Offer words of encouragement. Offer financial support if needed. This is their broken bone.

FYI: The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) is a great resource for information and support. Click here for more information.

© Copyright 2022 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Homemade pizza is back on the menu July 13, 2017

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FOR THE FIRST TIME in seven weeks, I made homemade pizza. But this was not your ordinary pizza. This pizza represented something much more than food to fill the belly on a Saturday evening. The pizza I crafted signifies healing.

I have reached the point in recovery from a broken right shoulder that I no longer feel the need to clamp my arm protectively to my side. I am reaching, pulling, even eating with my right hand. I am free of my arm sling except to sleep and to use in crowded public places.

I figure if moving my arm doesn’t hurt, then I’m OK doing whatever. So far, so good. I’m doing laundry, washing dishes and making pizza, with some assistance from the husband.

This Friday I start physical therapy. I am ready and could have begun 10 days ago had an opening been available. My goal is to lift 21 lbs, 10 oz., the current weight of my 15-month-old granddaughter, ASAP. I miss cuddling Izzy. Realistically, I expect I won’t be holding Isabelle for quite some time without supervision. But I need a goal, right?

My short term goal is to pull a t-shirt over my head, to dress my upper body by myself. I’d also like to use my Canon DSLR camera soon. I am passionate about photography and really miss that creative outlet. Sure I’ve been using my smartphone. But even that is challenging and the results not nearly as good as those of a DSLR.

 

Up until my fall and resulting broken shoulder, I crafted homemade pizza every Friday evening, always served with mugs of icy beer.

 

When I consider how much I’ve improved since May 22, the day I missed a step on a hospital stairway and fell while on my way to donate blood, I am amazed. My post injury exhaustion and need for daily naps have vanished. Sore muscles have replaced pain. My once purple, yellow and green arm is now almost free of bruises. I am healing. I can feel it in the handles of a rolling pin as I work dough across a floured board. And I can taste it in a bite of fresh pizza spread with homemade pizza sauce and sprinkled with Italian sausage, mushrooms, mozzarella and slips of fresh basil and oregano clipped from plants potted in my backyard.

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SORT OF RELATED, because I fell on my way to donate blood…please consider donating blood to the Red Cross if you are able. The current shortage of blood is termed critical. I’ve been bombarded with emails requesting that I donate. I need to check with my doctor whether I can resume donating. By giving blood, you may save a life. Blood transfusions saved my mom’s life about a decade ago. I am grateful to those many many donors.

© Copyright 2017 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Color away the stress April 5, 2016

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ONE EVENING LAST WEEK, I was seriously stressed.

When I’m deeply worried, time seems to pause and hover. I can’t focus enough to read a book or even a magazine. I can’t follow the storyline of a TV show. Any conversation seems rather meaningless and trivial.

But I had to manage. I needed something to busy my hands. Something to do while I waited for a text or phone call. The solution was only a couch cushion away. Inserted in my local daily newspaper was a 15-page coloring book for adults. That would do.

 

Coloring book, 24 pencils and page

 

I headed upstairs to dig out a box of colored pencils. And then I settled onto the end of the couch, box splayed open next to my cell phone.

 

Coloring book, 26 close-up

 

As I chose colors and began methodically coloring petals on a page imprinted with florals, I felt the tension ease. There’s something soothing about the rhythm of coloring. It’s effect is akin to watching flames dance in a campfire, listening to water gurgle or rocking back-and-forth in a chair. All are comforting. Repetitive.

 

Coloring book, 28 floral close-up

 

Adult coloring books are all the rage right now as folks discover their calming value. But I wonder, if I remembered how to crochet, would the results be the same?

TELL ME, WHAT HANDS-ON activity works to calm you? And what are your thoughts on the adult coloring book phenomenon?

© Copyright 2016 Audrey Kletscher Helbling