Speaker 1: Pushkin Hay Slight Changers, Happy New Year. We in the
Speaker 1: Slight Change family have been hard at work preparing new
Speaker 1: episodes for you in twenty twenty six and I can't
Speaker 1: wait for you to hear the lineup. But first, today
Speaker 1: is a very special day because my book, The Other
Speaker 1: Side of Change, Who We Become When Life makes Other Plans,
Speaker 1: is officially out. I'm sharing a sneak peek of the
Speaker 1: audiobook with those of you in the Slight Change community.
Speaker 1: The book features stories you've never heard on this show
Speaker 1: and pairs them with cutting edge science to help you
Speaker 1: navigate change with less anxiety and a greater sense of possibility.
Speaker 1: You get your copy today wherever you like to buy books. Okay,
Speaker 1: now on to the beginning of the Other Side of
Speaker 1: Change preface. There are moments in each of our lives
Speaker 1: that seemed to change everything. A relationship ends without warning,
Speaker 1: a close friend gets into a serious accident. Routine medical
Speaker 1: tests reveals something concerning. Secrets about a loved one come
Speaker 1: to light. A job is lost. As our lives veer
Speaker 1: off course, it can feel like time is dividing into
Speaker 1: a before and an after. I had one of these
Speaker 1: experiences recently. My husband and I were on the cusp
Speaker 1: of becoming parents after years of navigating various obstacles and disappointments.
Speaker 1: We were brimming with relief and excitement, emotions that I
Speaker 1: imagine many parents to be feel. As we received one
Speaker 1: piece of good news after another, we allowed ourselves to
Speaker 1: conjure up cozy images of life life with our future child,
Speaker 1: snuggling in bed and reading Calvin and Hobbes together, or
Speaker 1: breaking out into a silly dance in our kitchen. We
Speaker 1: were finally starting a family, until suddenly we weren't. I
Speaker 1: still remember how I felt when I heard the news.
Speaker 1: Anxiety polled in the pit of my stomach. Ordinary sounds
Speaker 1: like the closing of a door or a stranger's voice
Speaker 1: were jarring, as if the volume of the outside world
Speaker 1: had been dialed up. My colleagues at work, unaware of
Speaker 1: what was going on, were emailing me about assignments that
Speaker 1: were due. I struggled to comprehend how everything was just
Speaker 1: moving forward as usual. I knew my situation was not unique,
Speaker 1: but somehow that awareness couldn't penetrate the visceral, chilling feeling
Speaker 1: that I was alone. As the weeks and months passed,
Speaker 1: what disoriented me the most was the loss of control
Speaker 1: I felt in everyday life. It's easy to overestimate the
Speaker 1: degree to which we influence how things turn out. Psychologists
Speaker 1: call this the illusion of control. When a bad thing
Speaker 1: happens unexpectedly, it can shatter that illusion. As my detailed
Speaker 1: plans unraveled one by one, I became agitated by all
Speaker 1: the uncertainty that now lay ahead. There's a research study
Speaker 1: showing that people are more stressed when they think they
Speaker 1: have a fifty percent chance of receiving an electric shock
Speaker 1: than when they think they have a one hundred percent chance.
Speaker 1: This finding resonates deeply with me. I like knowing how
Speaker 1: the story ends. Whenever I faced a setback or a failure,
Speaker 1: my instinct has been to jump into action and to
Speaker 1: try to reduce any uncertainty by outworking the challenge. But
Speaker 1: what would it even mean to work harder? In the
Speaker 1: context of trying to become a parent, I'd often heard
Speaker 1: that while we can't control what happens to us, we
Speaker 1: can control our reaction to what happens. It's meant to
Speaker 1: be an empowering mantra, but as I with my negative emotions,
Speaker 1: it registered as a platitude. Sure, it'd be great to
Speaker 1: somehow react in a more constructive manner, but how was
Speaker 1: I supposed to go about doing that. It's not like
Speaker 1: I could flip a switch in my brain that would
Speaker 1: make me feel more at peace, or more hopeful, or
Speaker 1: more certain about what to do next. I wanted to
Speaker 1: figure out how exactly to think and feel differently about
Speaker 1: my situation. As I sat there, isolated in my sorrow
Speaker 1: and confusion, I sought to connect with others who'd navigated
Speaker 1: big life disruptions. What began as a series of informal
Speaker 1: conversations eventually grew into a podcast called A Slight Change
Speaker 1: of Plans, which I started in twenty twenty one. Each
Speaker 1: episode was an opportunity to have a one on one
Speaker 1: conversation with someone who'd gone through a life altering change.
Speaker 1: A young self proclaimed health nut who was diagnosed with
Speaker 1: aggressive bone cancer, a woman who found out that her
Speaker 1: late husband had had an affair. A friend of mine
Speaker 1: who lost her little sister in a car accident. I
Speaker 1: didn't know what their stories might reveal, but I hoped
Speaker 1: that my academic expertise might lend me a unique perspective
Speaker 1: in my work as a cognitive scientist. I've spent the
Speaker 1: past two decades exploring the human mind through disciplines like psychology, neuroscience,
Speaker 1: and philosophy. I've studied how we develop our beliefs, make decisions,
Speaker 1: and respond to uncertainty, risk and failure, and so in
Speaker 1: these interviews, I focused on understanding people's interior lives. What
Speaker 1: was shifting within them as they went through their changes.
Speaker 1: What were they experiencing on a psychological level that might
Speaker 1: not be visible to us from the outside. I was
Speaker 1: moved by my guest reflections and often thought back to
Speaker 1: what they'd shared with me. After spending more than one
Speaker 1: hundred hours interviewing people, I noticed patterns emerging across their stories.
Speaker 1: People whose situations looked nothing alike on the surface were
Speaker 1: nevertheless encountering similar challenges. For example, the cancer patient who
Speaker 1: felt like his body had failed him and the woman
Speaker 1: who was cheated on by her husband struggled with a
Speaker 1: similar feeling of betrayal. And it wasn't merely the challenges
Speaker 1: that people had in common. They were also using a
Speaker 1: shared set of strategies to overcome them. Those of us
Speaker 1: going through changes of all kinds are far more connected
Speaker 1: than we may have thought. We can learn from one
Speaker 1: another's stories, even when they don't look like our own.
Speaker 1: I was heartened by this realization and also energized by it.
Speaker 1: There was so much to potentially discover about the universality
Speaker 1: of the change experience. It was clear that I'd only
Speaker 1: just scratched the surface. I wanted to combine long form
Speaker 1: interviewing with our best understanding of how the mind works
Speaker 1: to build a deeper well of wisdom to draw from
Speaker 1: during life's time moments, and that's what led me to
Speaker 1: this book. I've written this for anyone who is currently
Speaker 1: in the choppy waters of a change, is trying to
Speaker 1: make sense of a past change, or is anxious about
Speaker 1: a future change. This book is part narrative and part
Speaker 1: practical guide, rooted in the latest scientific research. I started
Speaker 1: this project by seeking out people with remarkable stories of
Speaker 1: change whom I'd never interviewed before. I then spoke with
Speaker 1: each of them repeatedly over a period of several years.
Speaker 1: Their motivations, reactions, and reflections frequently ran counter to what
Speaker 1: I would have gleaned from the basic facts of their stories.
Speaker 1: I am grateful for their willingness to open up in
Speaker 1: such an unfiltered way. They offer an intimate view into
Speaker 1: the experience of upheaval. When we imagine what it will
Speaker 1: be like to navigate an unexpected change in its aftermath,
Speaker 1: we tend to assume that will be the same person
Speaker 1: from the beginning to end. Research shows that we greatly
Speaker 1: underestimate how much will change in the future, even though
Speaker 1: we fully acknowledge that we've changed considerably in the past.
Speaker 1: This bias is known as the end of history illusion,
Speaker 1: a term coined by the psychologist Dan Gilbert and his
Speaker 1: co authors. People, it seems, regard the present as a
Speaker 1: watershed moment at which they have finally become the person
Speaker 1: they will be for the rest of their lives, they write,
Speaker 1: But we are constantly evolving, and a major disruption in
Speaker 1: our lives can accelerate this process. When a big change
Speaker 1: happens to us, it can lead to profound change within us.
Speaker 1: The unique stresses and demands of being thrust into a
Speaker 1: new reality can uncover unexpected and sometimes astonishing insights about
Speaker 1: ourselves in the world around us. These insights, coupled with
Speaker 1: the experience of the change itself, can transform us in
Speaker 1: extraordinary ways. This is an empowering realization when we're daunted
Speaker 1: at the outset of a change, there is some comfort
Speaker 1: in knowing that the person who will undergo the full
Speaker 1: experience will be different from the person we are in
Speaker 1: this very moment. We will become new people on the
Speaker 1: other side of change in ways we are capable of shaping,
Speaker 1: and so the relevant question isn't how will I navigate
Speaker 1: this change, but rather how will I, with potentially new capabilities, values,
Speaker 1: and perspectives, navigate this change. The first half of this
Speaker 1: book tells the stories of people who, as they confront
Speaker 1: new circumstances, must grapple with all that they've lost in
Speaker 1: their own way. They each experience an internal transformation that
Speaker 1: allows them to imagine freeing possibilities for themselves. The second
Speaker 1: half of the book shows how that sense of possibility
Speaker 1: can ripple outward and inl luence how we relate to
Speaker 1: others and the world. Together, these stories offer a portrait
Speaker 1: of our varied, complicated reactions to change and how we
Speaker 1: can learn to open ourselves up to it. I've been
Speaker 1: inspired to consider the changes in my own life through
Speaker 1: a new lens, a personal evolution that I share throughout
Speaker 1: the book. A negative change can feel like an apocalypse,
Speaker 1: as if the world we knew has now been destroyed.
Speaker 1: But apocalypse comes from the Greek word apocalypsis, which actually
Speaker 1: means revelation. This etymology is instructive. Change can upend us,
Speaker 1: but it can also reveal things to us. What if
Speaker 1: we saw the hardest moments in our lives as a
Speaker 1: chance to reimagine ourselves rather than as something to just endure.
Speaker 1: What potential could change unlock within us? In going on
Speaker 1: this journey with others, I've become far more curious about
Speaker 1: who I can be on the other side of change.
Speaker 1: I hope that after reading this book, you'll come to
Speaker 1: feel the same way. Chapter one, locked in On a
Speaker 1: warm October afternoon in twenty eighteen, Olivia Lewis wrapped up
Speaker 1: an assignment and walked from the campus library to her bike.
Speaker 1: A month earlier, she'd started her senior year at Virginia
Speaker 1: Commonwealth University with a clear resolution to stop making such
Speaker 1: a big deal about her health issues. For nearly a decade,
Speaker 1: she'd been periodically plagued by a strange constellation of symptoms,
Speaker 1: including vision problems, facial numbness, dizziness, and crushing migraines. She
Speaker 1: was a regular at the doctor's office, but more often
Speaker 1: than not, her symptoms would resolve while she waited for
Speaker 1: her appointment to begin, and the doctor would tell her
Speaker 1: that there was nothing actually wrong with her. Her friends, too,
Speaker 1: had grown impatient with her her over the years. Sometimes
Speaker 1: she noticed them sigh or roll their eyes when she
Speaker 1: told them of yet another headache. She hated the idea
Speaker 1: that her anxieties about her health might be taking a
Speaker 1: toll on her relationships. She told herself she would just
Speaker 1: have to toughen up. But as she bent down to
Speaker 1: unlock her bike from the rack, she felt a sharp
Speaker 1: twinge in her neck. When she stood up, little gray
Speaker 1: and black specks appeared in her field of vision. A
Speaker 1: dull headache set in. She shook her head and got
Speaker 1: on her bike to go grab some lunch. It was
Speaker 1: probably nothing. That evening, though, at a friend's house, Olivia
Speaker 1: again felt strange. She just plopped down on the couch
Speaker 1: to watch American Horror Story. When as the show's moody
Speaker 1: theme song filled the room, her face went numb. She
Speaker 1: began to feel faint and nauseated. She excused herself and
Speaker 1: slowly made her way to the bathroom. When she looked
Speaker 1: in the mirror. She saw black splotches where her reflection
Speaker 1: should have been. She blinked hard, then splashed water on
Speaker 1: her face. She looked at the mirror again. The black
Speaker 1: splotches were still there. She cast her eyes around the room,
Speaker 1: but the splotches followed her gaze. Maybe she needed to
Speaker 1: take a few breaths and calm down. She knelt on
Speaker 1: the floor, leaned her forehead against the bathtub, and closed
Speaker 1: her eyes. A few minutes later, she cautiously opened her eyes.
Speaker 1: She could now see her legs clearly. The splotches were gone. Relieved,
Speaker 1: she picked herself up and fixed her hair in the mirror.
Speaker 1: As she walked back to the living room to rejoin
Speaker 1: her friends, she was grateful that she wouldn't have to
Speaker 1: make a scene in front of them. Olivia had only
Speaker 1: recently started to feel like her peers accepted her. Growing up,
Speaker 1: she had attended a private school where she was surrounded
Speaker 1: by kids from wealthy families. Olivia's family was middle class.
Speaker 1: Her parents had taken out loans and cobbled together the
Speaker 1: money to afford the tuition, and her background made her
Speaker 1: stand out. Her classmates made fun of her clothes and
Speaker 1: the things she liked, they disparaged her modest home in
Speaker 1: her family's mini van with its dense and missing hubcats.
Speaker 1: In the fifth grade, Olivia was voted ugliest girl on
Speaker 1: a list that circulated in her school. But in the
Speaker 1: past few years it seemed as if things were beginning
Speaker 1: to go her way. She had built a tight knit
Speaker 1: circle of friends in college. Just a week ago, she'd
Speaker 1: invited them over for a dinner party, where they feasted
Speaker 1: on a big pot of spaghetti while sharing stories and
Speaker 1: laughing late into the night. She and her boyfriend from
Speaker 1: high school, Sean, had maintained a long distance relationship, and
Speaker 1: she was looking forward to visiting him in a few weeks.
Speaker 1: She was also on track to graduate with a degree
Speaker 1: in communications and planned to get a master's degree in copywriting.
Speaker 1: After so many years of feeling inadequate, Olivia could finally
Speaker 1: see an exciting future taking shape before her. Later that evening,
Speaker 1: as she and her roommate drove back to their apartment,
Speaker 1: Olivia rolled down the window, took in some fresh air,
Speaker 1: and let the serenity of the night sky soothe her nerves.
Speaker 1: She reassured herself that she was fine. Now her focus
Speaker 1: was on getting to bed. She had an important class
Speaker 1: in the morning, and she had a habit of sleeping
Speaker 1: through her alarms. She took a quick shower and then
Speaker 1: performed her nightly ritual, setting six consecutive alarms on her phone,
Speaker 1: starting at eight a m spaced ten minutes apart. It
Speaker 1: was just after four in the morning when an excruciating
Speaker 1: sensation coursed through Olivia's body. It ran from her spine
Speaker 1: into her head, jolting her awake and causing her to
Speaker 1: lurge upright as her body seized up, she fell out
Speaker 1: of her bed and her skull crashed directly onto the
Speaker 1: hardwood floor. Her head throbbed. She needed help. She tried
Speaker 1: to reach for her phone, which was dangling off the
Speaker 1: side of her bed by its power cord, a mere
Speaker 1: inn above her face, but her arm wouldn't move. She
Speaker 1: tried to yell for her roommate, her mouth wouldn't move either. Suddenly,
Speaker 1: a cascade of fluids erupted from her body. A warm,
Speaker 1: thick substance oozed out of her ears, A puddle of
Speaker 1: urine formed beneath her. A mixture of vomit and blood
Speaker 1: bubbled up in her mouth. If she hadn't landed on
Speaker 1: her side. She thought she might have choked on it.
Speaker 1: Though she was not particularly religious, she found herself talking
Speaker 1: to God, Is this it? Am I just going to
Speaker 1: die like this? She lay frozen in place for about
Speaker 1: two hours, fighting to keep herself awake. Then a strange
Speaker 1: sense of peace descended upon her. She allowed herself to
Speaker 1: drift into the darkness. The next thing Olivia became aware
Speaker 1: of was the footsteps of her roommate, who burst into
Speaker 1: Olivia's room annoyed by the incessant beeping of alarms. Olivia
Speaker 1: heard her roommate scream, oh my God, the alarms cante
Speaker 1: you to go off. Beep, beep beep. Her roommate was
Speaker 1: now calling nine one one. Olivia registered all of this
Speaker 1: as if it were coming from far away. She could
Speaker 1: hear the wails of an ambulance siren. Soon, a medic
Speaker 1: was leaning over her, asking her questions, Olivia, Olivia, can
Speaker 1: you hear me? When Olivia woke up, or sort of
Speaker 1: woke up, her eyes were still closed. She was lying
Speaker 1: flat in a bed and hooked up to a ventilator.
Speaker 1: The metronomic noises of hospital machines filled the air. Two
Speaker 1: people were talking. They sounded like her parents, and they
Speaker 1: sounded distressed. Do they even know I'm alive in here?
Speaker 1: Olivia thought, with sudden panic, are they going to pull
Speaker 1: the plug? But before she could do anything, she again
Speaker 1: drifted out of consciousness. The next time she came to,
Speaker 1: her eyes opened, a nurse in blue scrubs was dabbing
Speaker 1: a wet sponge against Olivia's lips while doctors talked to
Speaker 1: one another by the side of her hospital bed. When
Speaker 1: she woke up again, a kind looking woman she didn't
Speaker 1: know was strumming a guitar at her bedside, singing a
Speaker 1: song by Maroon Five, one of Olivia's favorite bands. When
Speaker 1: the woman finished the song, she asked Olivia if there
Speaker 1: was another one she might like to hear. Olivia heard
Speaker 1: the question, but the words passed over her like air.
Speaker 1: And then later, her aunt was sitting next to her,
Speaker 1: looking at her intently and holding up a board with
Speaker 1: each letter of the alphabet printed on it. What were
Speaker 1: the letters for Olivia? Her aunt said, Olivia, if you
Speaker 1: can understand what I'm saying, please blink. Olivia blinked. Olivia
Speaker 1: had suffered a massive brainstem stroke, which damaged the regions
Speaker 1: of her brain that controlled voluntary muscle movement for the
Speaker 1: entire body except for the eyes. The stroke had left
Speaker 1: her with a condition called locked in syndrome, unable to
Speaker 1: voluntarily move, speak, make facial expressions, chew, or swallow. People
Speaker 1: with locked in syndrome can mistakenly be thought to lack
Speaker 1: consciousness altogether. They do, however, retain their full cognitive abilities
Speaker 1: and personality traits. They are able to think, reason, and
Speaker 1: feel the same emotions as before. Their cardiovascular, digestive, urinary,
Speaker 1: and other autonomic systems also generally continue to function, though
Speaker 1: breathing support is often required. Some people with locked in
Speaker 1: syndrome can make noises or vocalizations like crying or laughing.
Speaker 1: The condition gained greater recognition after the publication of the
Speaker 1: memoir The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean Dominique Boubi,
Speaker 1: a former editor in chief of the French magazine L
Speaker 1: bob suffered a brainstem stroke in December nineteen ninety five.
Speaker 1: After being in a coma for twenty ti he awoke
Speaker 1: in a hospital to find that he was unable to
Speaker 1: initiate any muscle movement except for the muscles controlling his
Speaker 1: left eyelid. Which allowed him to blink to help him communicate.
Speaker 1: His speech therapist would recite the letters of the alphabet,
Speaker 1: and Bob would blink when she arrived at the correct letter.
Speaker 1: Using this method, he could slowly spell out words letter
Speaker 1: by letter. In other cases, like Olivia's, caregivers will slide
Speaker 1: a finger along a board that lists the letters of
Speaker 1: the alphabet, and patients blink when they arrive at the
Speaker 1: correct letter. Bob completed his memoir this way, spending at
Speaker 1: least three hours a day on it for two months.
Speaker 1: He wrote about what it was like to grieve the
Speaker 1: loss of basic pleasures, such as hugging his son. The
Speaker 1: memoir's title offers a metaphor. His body is the diving bell,
Speaker 1: a rigid, heavy chamber that divers used to go deep
Speaker 1: into the ocean, and his mind is the butterfly, fluttering
Speaker 1: about but trapped within. Locked in syndrome is exceptionally rare.
Speaker 1: It's estimated that fewer than one thousand people in the
Speaker 1: United States currently have it. There is no cure, and
Speaker 1: although some people are able to recover limited voluntary motor
Speaker 1: function after extensive rehabilitation, the long term prognosis is very poor.
Speaker 1: The vast majority of patients never regains significant motor control.
Speaker 1: They continue to live with severe constraints, requiring round the
Speaker 1: clock care to meet their daily needs and to prevent
Speaker 1: complications that can result in death. Bobi himself died fifteen
Speaker 1: months after his diagnosis from pneumonia. Olivia did not know
Speaker 1: any of this as she drifted in and out of consciousness,
Speaker 1: her mind one big jumble from the steady stream of
Speaker 1: narcotics and others their medications that were being pumped into
Speaker 1: her body through an IV. She didn't know that she
Speaker 1: was being kept alive entirely by machines, or that she
Speaker 1: had had brain surgery days earlier. Nor did she know
Speaker 1: that the hospital chaplain had informed her mother that Olivia
Speaker 1: was per the hospital's judgment past the point of reasonable return.
Speaker 1: Physicians were recommending that Olivia move into a nursing facility.
Speaker 1: Her grandmother, a school psychologist, was mentally preparing the family
Speaker 1: for Olivia's death. All Olivia knew was that she had
Speaker 1: to focus on blinking so that she could communicate her needs.
Speaker 1: By the end of her first week in the hospital,
Speaker 1: Olivia gained more lucidity as doctors weaned her off some
Speaker 1: of the medications. She became consumed with figuring out what
Speaker 1: had happened to her. She painstakingly blinked out question after question.
Speaker 1: Her my mom explained to her that she had had
Speaker 1: a stroke, which had left her in a locked in state,
Speaker 1: but Olivia was still unable to internalize that her body
Speaker 1: had been profoundly altered. It was only when her boyfriend
Speaker 1: Sean brought his family to visit the following week, his parents, aunt,
Speaker 1: and uncle filing into her cramped hospital room, that the
Speaker 1: gravity of her condition began to dawn on her. As
Speaker 1: Sean and his family stood at the foot of her bed,
Speaker 1: trying to puncture the silence by sharing lighthearted memories from
Speaker 1: a summer beach trip they had taken with Olivia, she
Speaker 1: sensed their unease. Oh God, they must feel so awkward
Speaker 1: right now, Olivia thought, do something to make them feel
Speaker 1: more comfortable. Fix this. Olivia had always been intimidated by
Speaker 1: Shawn's family. They ran indifferent, more elite social circles than hers,
Speaker 1: frequenting the local country club and living in a wealthy
Speaker 1: part of town. Every time Olivia went over to Shawn's
Speaker 1: house for dinner, his dad made her feel as if
Speaker 1: she were being interviewed for a job, she had no
Speaker 1: chance of getting convinced that she didn't have his family's
Speaker 1: approval because she wasn't accomplished enough, or pretty enough, or
Speaker 1: sophisticated enough. Olivia had joined them for their summer vacation
Speaker 1: to the beach, determined to win them over. In the
Speaker 1: weeks leading up to the trip, she brainstormed ways to
Speaker 1: show them that she was worthy of their son. Sure,
Speaker 1: she was currently working as a hostess at a restaurant,
Speaker 1: but it was her competitive fall internship at a marketing
Speaker 1: agency that she really cared about. Oh, and did she
Speaker 1: mention all the books she was reading. Despite her best attempts,
Speaker 1: though she had left the trip knowing it hadn't been enough,
Speaker 1: she would simply have to try harder next time. But
Speaker 1: as Olivia lay in her hospital bed, she could, of
Speaker 1: course do nothing. With a trichyotomy tube now hanging from
Speaker 1: her neck and no ability to make facial expressions, she
Speaker 1: could not project poise and grace. She could not thank
Speaker 1: Shan's family for coming or encourage their halting efforts to
Speaker 1: connect with her. She could not make jokes about the
Speaker 1: hospital food or not a long and offer reassurance that
Speaker 1: she knew they meant well, that their nervous laughter and
Speaker 1: tense body language were totally fine, totally understandable. As Sean's
Speaker 1: family got ready to leave Olivia's room, his uncle walked
Speaker 1: over to her bedside. He hesitated for a moment, uncertain
Speaker 1: about how exactly he ought to say goodbye. He placed
Speaker 1: his hand gently on hers Hang in there, Olivia, he
Speaker 1: whispered kindly. Suddenly the room filled with loud, piercing screams,
Speaker 1: like a hyena's, Olivia thought. Then it hit her she
Speaker 1: was the one making the sounds. She was crying uncontrollably,
Speaker 1: but it was coming out as screeches. Alarmed that they
Speaker 1: might have said something wrong to cause Olivia's outburst, Shawn's
Speaker 1: family quickly ushered themselves out. This was more than Olivia
Speaker 1: could bear. Afterward, when she was alone with Sean, Olivia
Speaker 1: used her blinks to apologize for having made a scene.
Speaker 1: She wasn't sure why this particular moment had led her
Speaker 1: to break down. For nearly two weeks now, she'd endured
Speaker 1: the harrowing experience of being walked in. Why had it
Speaker 1: taken interacting with Shawn's family for the magnitude of it
Speaker 1: all to register. Why was she concerned with how she
Speaker 1: appeared to her boyfriend's family when she couldn't swallow a
Speaker 1: bite of food, use the bathroom, speak, or move a
Speaker 1: single limb on her own. As the weeks passed, though,
Speaker 1: Olivia could not shake her self consciousness, this deep instinctual
Speaker 1: feeling that everyone else's opinion of her mattered so much,
Speaker 1: even more than her own suffering. She cried from embarrassment
Speaker 1: when nurse discuss her bowel movements in front of Sean
Speaker 1: and her friends. She cried when her team of physicians
Speaker 1: shared every detail about her physical state with medical residents.
Speaker 1: She cried when one of her closest friends, Emily, brought
Speaker 1: her new boyfriend along on a visit and Olivia, her
Speaker 1: mouth now hanging open by default due to the paralysis
Speaker 1: of her jaw and facial muscles, drooled on herself in
Speaker 1: front of them. Olivia cursed so loudly to herself that
Speaker 1: she wondered if Emily and her boyfriend could hear the
Speaker 1: words reverberating through her skull. That night, as was now
Speaker 1: the case, every night, Olivia cried, her wails, rousing patience nearby.
Speaker 1: It had taken so long for Olivia to feel like
Speaker 1: other people were accepting her, and now she could no
Speaker 1: longer be who she wanted to be in front of them.
Speaker 1: Friends from high school and college came to visit, as
Speaker 1: did her professors, the dean of her college, and even
Speaker 1: her boss from her internship. Though she was grateful for
Speaker 1: the outpouring of care, Olivia resented their visits. She could
Speaker 1: not stand being so exposed. It was easier to just
Speaker 1: not see anyone. At night, staring at the ceiling from
Speaker 1: her hospital bed, Olivia thought about evenings back in high
Speaker 1: school when she'd complained about doing the dishes after dinner.
Speaker 1: She closed her eyes and conjured up the green apple
Speaker 1: scent of the dish soap. She imagined herself standing in
Speaker 1: front of the sink, slowly and methodically washing each plate, bowl,
Speaker 1: and utensil by hand. Then she made a promise to
Speaker 1: the universe, if I ever recover, I will never ever
Speaker 1: complain about doing the dishes again. Olivia's initial physical therapy
Speaker 1: sessions involved a relatively basic task, sitting upright. Her therapist
Speaker 1: would prop her up against a sturdy set of pillows
Speaker 1: in her hospital bed and challenge her to sit in
Speaker 1: this position for only a minute or two, but the
Speaker 1: sessions were excruciating, the pain in her limbs so fierce
Speaker 1: and unrelenting that she would sometimes vomit. I don't want
Speaker 1: to be here, she blinked repeatedly to her parents. Why
Speaker 1: had this happened to her? Of all people. She rarely drank,
Speaker 1: never did drugs, ate well, and exercised regularly. Every time
Speaker 1: a nurse came around with scissors or a needle, Olivia
Speaker 1: imagined lunging for the instrument and stabbing herself in the neck.
Speaker 1: She wondered if she might be able to persuade a
Speaker 1: friend to bring her pills so that she could overdose.
Speaker 1: The thought of having such agency was intoxicating. Olivia's family
Speaker 1: knew that she was in desperate need of inspiration. Her grandfather,
Speaker 1: a former rehabilitation counselor, discovered the memoir Running Free, written
Speaker 1: by a woman named Kate Allet, who had become locked
Speaker 1: in after suffering a stroke at the age of thirty nine.
Speaker 1: Kate had made a miraculous recovery, regaining her ability to
Speaker 1: speak and walk in less than six months. She had
Speaker 1: even gone on to run in a race. As Olivia's
Speaker 1: grandfather read the memoir aloud, Olivia clung to the details
Speaker 1: of Kate's story, she decided that she too would have
Speaker 1: a miraculous recovery. If she didn't, she told herself she
Speaker 1: would have no choice but to move someplace far away
Speaker 1: and live underground, maybe in a cave. She would cut
Speaker 1: off contact with everyone. In the weeks that followed, Olivia
Speaker 1: became obsessed with Kate's recovery, memorizing every element of her
Speaker 1: rehabilitation plan. She asked her friends and family to email
Speaker 1: Kate on her behalf, requesting more detailed information about how
Speaker 1: and when exactly she had met certain milestones. Kate even
Speaker 1: became a bit of a hero among Olivia's friends. When
Speaker 1: they came to visit Olivia in the hospital, they'd scroll
Speaker 1: through Kate's Instagram account and oh Olivia videos and photos
Speaker 1: to encourage her. One afternoon, at Olivia's request, her grandfather
Speaker 1: opened YouTube and found a TEDx talk that Kate had given.
Speaker 1: He stationed his iPad in front of Olivia so that
Speaker 1: she could watch it with headphones, and then he returned
Speaker 1: to his chair to read a book because his YouTube
Speaker 1: account was set to AutoPlay, though a new video with
Speaker 1: similar content immediately started after Kate's finished this one was
Speaker 1: about a woman who'd become locked in at the age
Speaker 1: of twenty and had only minimally recovered over the years.
Speaker 1: Olivia watched in horror as images of this woman's daily
Speaker 1: life played out on screen, but she could not yell
Speaker 1: out to her grandfather to stop the video. As it
Speaker 1: played on, she grew increasingly panicked. Finally, the video ended,
Speaker 1: but the possibility of encountering another story like this one
Speaker 1: became her greatest source of anxiety. She asked her grandfather
Speaker 1: to watch the iPad carefully whenever he pl play things
Speaker 1: for her in the future, so that she could shield
Speaker 1: herself from any stories that did not resemble Kate's. What
Speaker 1: she needed from her family was constant reassurance, often two
Speaker 1: or three times a day, that Kate's story would be
Speaker 1: her story. But by December, two months after her stroke,
Speaker 1: it was clear that Olivia's recovery was not at all
Speaker 1: resembling Kate's. Other than regaining the ability to breathe on
Speaker 1: her own, Olivia felt she'd barely made any progress. She
Speaker 1: could only tilt her neck a tiny bit upward, raise
Speaker 1: her left arm by an inch or so, and sometimes
Speaker 1: lift her left index finger by a centimeter. When she'd
Speaker 1: first moved her finger, her family had cheered out loud
Speaker 1: it was a remarkable achievement and not one to be
Speaker 1: taken for granted, given the fates of so many other
Speaker 1: locked in patients. But Olivia felt patronized. She was going
Speaker 1: to be the next Kate. Why couldn't her family understand this?
Speaker 1: Being able to walk would be a milestone, wor it's celebrating.
Speaker 1: Her grandfather tried to give Olivia more realistic expectations, telling
Speaker 1: her that she might experience a range of outcomes and
Speaker 1: that that was okay. They should rejoice in any improvement,
Speaker 1: however modest. But Olivia rejected this advice. The prospect of
Speaker 1: being a diminished version of herself was simply intolerable. How
Speaker 1: would anyone, her boyfriend, her friends, her community accept her?
Speaker 1: How would she even accept herself? In order to go on,
Speaker 1: she denied the possibility of anything less than a full
Speaker 1: and speedy recovery. Before her stroke, Olivia could not have imagined,
Speaker 1: even with her health related anxieties, just how suddenly she
Speaker 1: be thrust into uncharted territory. The same can be true
Speaker 1: for any of us. In a moment, a change can
Speaker 1: disrupt all that was familiar, and the changes we face
Speaker 1: may be nowhere near as severe as what Olivia experienced,
Speaker 1: they can still send shockwaves through our lives. When a
Speaker 1: romantic relationship ends, we must conceive of a life without
Speaker 1: the other person. When we get laid off, we might
Speaker 1: be unable to pay our bills. When we receive a
Speaker 1: diagnosis of depression, we may struggle with the stigma that
Speaker 1: surrounds it. As we muddle through these transitions, it can
Speaker 1: be tempting to deny our new situation as a way
Speaker 1: of protecting ourselves from negative emotions like grief, shame, fear,
Speaker 1: or helplessness. Although denial commonly occurs in the immediate aftermath
Speaker 1: of a change, it can also emerge later on in
Speaker 1: different ways and at varying degrees of intensity. People are
Speaker 1: constantly seeking a way to comprehend what is happening to them,
Speaker 1: writes the psychologist Richard Lazarus. This ongoing process of construing
Speaker 1: reality is a constantly changing one, depending on many variables
Speaker 1: within and outside of the person. Lazarus says that when
Speaker 1: it comes to denial, we are dealing with flux, and
Speaker 1: we must always be aware of the slippery nature of
Speaker 1: the event we are trying to understand. Denial can take
Speaker 1: different forms. If a person is experiencing first order denial,
Speaker 1: they will deny the basic facts of their situation, like
Speaker 1: the diagnosis they've received or the death of a loved one. If,
Speaker 1: like Olivia, they're experiencing second order denial, they will accept
Speaker 1: the basic facts of their situation but deny the implications
Speaker 1: of those facts. They might minimize the seriousness of what
Speaker 1: is happening, or project an overly optimistic view of the
Speaker 1: path ahead. They might also engage in avoidance and steer
Speaker 1: clear of anything that contradicts their narrative, as Olivia did
Speaker 1: when she shut out recovery stories that weren't Like Kates,
Speaker 1: you can think of denial as a kind of psychological
Speaker 1: immune response, so the moment our minds detect a threat
Speaker 1: to our internal state, protective measures are deployed. Olivia's denial
Speaker 1: was a response to a threat to her self identity.
Speaker 1: In the months following her stroke, she held on to
Speaker 1: the belief that she would quickly recapture her old self,
Speaker 1: not just because she was in pain and wanted it
Speaker 1: to end, or because she wanted to walk, talk and
Speaker 1: eat on her own spend time with her friends and
Speaker 1: hug her boyfriend, and do the activity she loved. Though
Speaker 1: of course all of this was true. On a deeper level,
Speaker 1: she experienced denial because her stroke had destroyed the version
Speaker 1: of her who was just starting to feel like she belonged.
Speaker 1: For any of us, our attachment to a specific identity
Speaker 1: can stand in the way of accepting our new reality.
Speaker 1: If you anchor your worth to your reputation as a parent,
Speaker 1: you might initially dismiss reports that your child is having
Speaker 1: behavioral problems in school. If you pride yourself on excelling
Speaker 1: it work, you might refuse to accept a poor performance review.
Speaker 1: If you've long valued your steadiness during stressful times, you
Speaker 1: might struggle to accept the onset of an anxiety disorder.
Speaker 1: A threat to our sense of self is, of course,
Speaker 1: only one potential cause of denial. Denial can also stem
Speaker 1: from a fear that you or those you love lack
Speaker 1: the skills or resources to handle the consequences of a change.
Speaker 1: For example, a parent who receives a scary medical diagnosis
Speaker 1: might fool themselves into believing they're not actually sick, so
Speaker 1: that they can avoid burdening their young children with the news.
Speaker 1: Denial can also emerge if your change carries a social
Speaker 1: stigma and you're afraid of how others might now treat you.
Speaker 1: As another example, when you're responsible for causing the change,
Speaker 1: perhaps your excess spending has led you into debt. You
Speaker 1: might engage in denial because it's easier to ignore your
Speaker 1: situation than to acknowledge the decisions you've made. In certain contexts,
Speaker 1: denial can be beneficial. It can offer us a powerful
Speaker 1: feeling of control, motivation, and hope. There is a grace
Speaker 1: in denial. Rite the grief researchers Elizabeth Koopler Ross and
Speaker 1: David Kessler, it is nature's way of letting in only
Speaker 1: as much as we can handle. One study explored the
Speaker 1: recovery trajectories of patients who had been hospitalized for heart problems.
Speaker 1: Those with high levels of denial had better short term
Speaker 1: outcomes than those with low levels. High denial patients spent
Speaker 1: less time in intensive care and had fewer heart related
Speaker 1: symptoms during their hospital stays. For Olivia, her belief that
Speaker 1: her recovery would mirror Kates not only boosted her optimism
Speaker 1: but provided a jolt of motivation to push her through
Speaker 1: a grueling physical rehabilitation regimen, but denial has its downsides.
Speaker 1: The same study on patients with heart problems showed that
Speaker 1: those with high levels of denial had worse outcomes in
Speaker 1: the year after their discharge from the hospital compared with
Speaker 1: low denial patients. They were less consistent in following their
Speaker 1: medical recommendations and ended up requiring more rehospitalization. For Olivia,
Speaker 1: the downside of her specific denial was that it set
Speaker 1: her up for potential devastation in the likely event that
Speaker 1: she never recovered as fully as Kate had. As Olivia
Speaker 1: lay in her hospital bed, she decided that if she
Speaker 1: really wanted to get back to who she'd been at
Speaker 1: a rate that was acceptable, she would need a change
Speaker 1: of scenery. Her days had fallen into a rhythm, with
Speaker 1: her friends visiting her between their classes in the afternoon,
Speaker 1: and Sean occasionally spending the night on a pull out cot.
Speaker 1: She appreciated their support, but also felt stuck. As she
Speaker 1: saw it, she was wasting her mental energy feeling anxious
Speaker 1: about her appearance and trying to make her interactions less awkward.
Speaker 1: She really needed to focus on was learning to walk again,
Speaker 1: and so when her family told her about an opportunity
Speaker 1: for treatment at one of the top rehab centers in
Speaker 1: the country, Spalding Rehabilitation Hospital in Boston, more than five
Speaker 1: hundred miles away from her family's home in Virginia. Olivia
Speaker 1: didn't hesitate because she wouldn't have the ability to press
Speaker 1: an emergency call button or yell out if an issue arose.
Speaker 1: She would require round the clock care at Spalding. Fortunately,
Speaker 1: her aunt and uncle already lived in Boston, and her
Speaker 1: grandfather offered to move there to spend his days with her.
Speaker 1: Olivia was thrilled the change would spare her friends and
Speaker 1: especially Sean, the messiness of it all, her expressionless face,
Speaker 1: her physical pain, her hyena shrieks. She would work hard
Speaker 1: away from their gaze, and when they came to visit,
Speaker 1: she would be ready. I will be back to my
Speaker 1: old self, she thought. Hey, thanks for listening to that
Speaker 1: sneak preview of the other side of change. You can
Speaker 1: finish Olivia's story and read the rest of the Other
Speaker 1: Side of Change by getting your copy today wherever you
Speaker 1: buy books. It's available in hardcover, ebook and audiobook. And
Speaker 1: a little housekeeping before we go, a slight change of
Speaker 1: plans will now appear in your podcast feed on Tuesdays
Speaker 1: instead of Mondays and exciting news. We'll be publishing episodes
Speaker 1: every week this year. That means we'll be back in
Speaker 1: your feed with another episode on January twentieth. Until then,
Speaker 1: thanks for listening.