Karol Ward - Worried Sick: Break Free from Chronic Worry to Achieve Mental & Physical Health

Table of Contents

I want to thank the many people who provided such wonderful opportunity and support for the creation of this book.

Thanks to my editor, Andie Avila at Berkley Publishing, for her enthusiasm about the topic, her support for my ideas, and her ability to focus my writing by asking great questions. Thank you to my agent, Sharon Bowers from the Miller Agency, for her ability to make the creation of this book an authentic process.

Many thanks and lots of love to my husband and support, Michael Souveroff, who believes in me without question and makes me laugh when I need to the most.

A huge thank-you goes to Sylvia Moritz, my friend and second set of eyes. Thank you for your time and willingness to read those first drafts. I very much appreciate your feedback, encouragement, and great advice on the use of images.

I want to acknowledge my mother, Dorothy Ward, who has faced a very tough time with remarkable courage.

For Jesse Klein, who has provided caring and support for my mother during this time. Thank you so much, Jesse.

I want to acknowledge my niece Miranda, whose presence in my life brings me great happiness.

I want to thank my brother David, who always wanted to know how the book was coming along and share his enthusiasm for my success. Thanks, Dave.

I want acknowledge my brother Charlie, for the strength he has had to make big changes in his life.

I want to thank all the experts who contributed to my book: Amy Torres, Rochelle Rice, Jeanette Bronee, Leigh Hansen, Jane Burbank, Kelly Brogan, Tina Felluss, Tara Keegan, Wendy Flynn, and Martha McKittrick. What a powerful group of wise and intelligent women. The information you gave me was supportive and thoughtful, and you all understood the importance of this subject.

Of course, thank you to my many patients and clients who have inspired me with their courage to face their fears and claim their joy so that they can live the lives they want. The journey of self-examination is not easy, and those who undertake it are to be acknowledged for their willingness to take even the first step.

My psychotherapy colleagues and I share a saying that goes, You give a session; you get a session. What we mean is that often the exact same issue our patients show up to talk about in their session is the very thing we end up looking at within ourselves later. This phenomenon does not happen all the time, but it canmainly when the timing is right and we as therapists are open to facing something we need to understand about ourselves. We seem to get presented with the opportunity to learn from the very people we are trying to help. And through the course of that interaction, we heal what we need to.

Surprisingly, as I wrote Worried Sick, I was presented with an opportunity to tackle my own worries and learn to heal them. What I did not already know on the subject of worry was presented to me in the guise of my mothers deteriorating health. About six months before I started this book project, my mother, a once private and independent woman, began to falter first physically and then mentally. In the course of what seemed like a few months, she became frail and searched for words that eluded her. Her mind, once sharp with facts about history, geography, and genealogy, became fragmented. Her balance, appetite, and ability to remember conversations from earlier that same day were severely affected. My brother Patrick and I became very worried about her ability to care for herself, and I arranged for a full neuropsychological evaluation. When she was finally given a diagnosis, it was determined that she had a combination of early-onset Alzheimers and vascular dementia.

I can still remember when I read the first page of my mothers very detailed medical report. I had a hard time focusing on the words and what they meant. The terminology was clinical though understandable, but it was information I just couldnt process because I simply was not ready for it. I think I went into a minor state of shock, if shock ever can be minor, and then drifted into a place of denial. I know my mind was registering the information on some level while my body slid into numbness. After I read everything, I took a breath, sat down on the couch in the doctors office, and asked myself, How can I possibly handle this? And how can I help my mom handle this?

What was most difficult for me and my family, and especially for my mother, was the fact that she knew she was unable to remember things like she used to. Because the disease had already progressed, she did not fully comprehend what was wrong with her, but she was aware that something was. After the diagnosis, it became our job to guide her so that she didnt lose her way in the day-to-day living of her life. At one point, after having an unexpected fall, she said to me, I need you to watch out for me. I told her I would take care of her and she should not worry. I, on the other hand, found out over time that I would do plenty of worrying for the both of us.

I worried about keeping my mother safe so that she could retain her dignity and have some independence. I wondered how I would balance my own life between taking care of her and maintaining my career. In caring for my mom, I was challenged as a daughter, a woman, and a therapist. I found that becoming my mothers caregiver forced me to rely on all the skills I had learned in my practiceI found myself working around the clock. Everything I had used in the past to counsel and comfort my patients was put into use over and over again with my mom. I listened to her fears and tried to teach her some tools for coping, such as asking for help and taking care of her body. I met with her and her doctor so that she understood the course of medical treatment. We talked about how she could exercise, talk to a counselor if needed, and make changes in her diet. We discussed the importance of staying connected to her community and keeping her mind stimulated through reading and music, both of which gave her great pleasure. It was difficult at times to be in the role of parent and yet long for my mother to reassure me that everything would be all rightsomething she could not do. It was also a struggle to watch the familiar become unfamiliar and have the ground shift daily. My mothers love of driving could no longer be part of her life, and her ability to play bridge with friends was gone because she could not remember what other players had bid. Also, though my mother was aware of her current surroundings and the people near her, she was unable to recall significant events from six months earlier, even when promptedevents such as a family gathering or hospital stay of a few weeks.

Many of you have faced similar situationscaring for ailing parents or a sick child or facing the loss of a secure job. And though we imagine ourselves to be strong and resilient, nothing prepares you for the kind of instability, stress, and worry that come with such particular issues. You feel tired, drained, and restless. You stay awake at night thinking about what you can do to make it better, and you face the next day with exhaustion. Then during the day you struggle to keep your focus with your job, your children, and a variety of daily responsibilities. You want to be present for all of these things, but you find yourself tired and distracted. Your body feels tense and you notice that you have a chronic backache, neck ache, or headache, all due to your worry. You may find yourself with an uneasy stomach, unable to eat or eating too much. Overall, your body feels out of sorts, off balance, and you long for a moment of quiet and peace.