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Treating ADHD Blog

Spinning My Wheels ADD Blog: Treating Adult ADHD With Humor - and Meds

Archives: April 2008

Pinballing Particles in My ADHD Brain

Strangely, the complex scientific theory of Brownian motion does a damn fine job of simply, elegantly explaining my ricocheting ADHD brain

Briefly — very briefly, unless you want me to copy some insights into Riemannian manifolds and Laplace-Betrami, whatever they are — Brownian Motion is an eminently intuitive notion: that particles suspended in a fluid collide in such a way as to create totally random motion. It's a "stochastic process," a series of sequential movements in which the direction and size of each move is randomly determined.

If you are, or have meaningful experience with, an ADHDan, a light bulb should be going off about now. You know why. Because this is the way your mind tends to work, at least in its worst-case scenario. Your focus, which you'd like to stay in one place so you can get some work done, gets bumped by some random thought. Then another one, totally unrelated. And it just keeps going, until, if you were able to draw a picture of your mind's peregrinations, it would look something like this...

On a really bad day, you can start out saying to yourself, "I'd better get started on that project now or I'll have to work on it all weekend." So you fire up your computer and open the spreadsheet you need to complete; as you're typing you notice that you have a hangnail; looking for the nail file, you find the spare set of car keys you misplaced last week, the ones you can't get duplicated because there's a computer chip in them and so it's gonna run you about $200 to copy them; you're happy about that, until you remember that you haven't paid a parking ticket and it's about to go into collection; then you remember that you didn't move the car last night, and you're probably going to get another one. You run downstairs, just in time to see a smirking meter maid putting a parking ticket under your wiper blade. Cursing, you stomp over to the car and see that you didn't get a ticket.

You got two tickets. Why? Because you forgot to get your car inspected.

Now you're furious. So you decide to . . . no, you don't want to start drinking at 10 am. Or even if you do, you recognize that you shouldn't. So you head for Dunkin' Donuts, and get a large coffee and a dozen doughnut holes. You get back home and set down your coffee and sugar bombs, only to notice that the sticky you'd put on your monitor to remind you to call your mom and wish her a happy birthday, it already being too late to send a card. Now it's too late to call. You slam your fist on the desk, causing your nice, sweet coffee to fall over. The top pops off and your keyboard gets a caffeine bath. As do all the notes for your project.

What project? The one you set out to finish, five miserable hours ago.

Random, and in this case, disastrous, movements, leading nowhere. Or, as they said in that physics class...

Hearing But Not Understanding

Could Auditory Processing Disorder be to blame for your child's ADHD-ish symptoms?

When I went to Mt. Sinai Hospital a few years ago to see if they could find any evidence that I had ADHD, the first thing they did, after the intake interview, was to give me an extensive hearing test. Makes total sense, actually. How can you expect someone to "pay attention" when she doesn't receive all the aural data that's sent her way, or, worse, isn't even aware that she's being spoken to. The hearing test is quick, painless, unintrusive and, unless presumably, unambiguous. Considering the protean nature of ADHD, it certain makes sense to rule out any purely physical deficits that might contribute to impaired attention.

Then there's a less familiar syndrome, APD — Auditory Processing Disorder. This isn't hearing loss, in the sense that a deaf person has hearing loss. A child with APD (also known as CAPD) can hear what's being said, but to one degree or another doesn't understand what's being said. In other words, this is neither deafness nor illiteracy nor a function of intelligence. Sadly, as with so many of the learning/behavioral dysfunctions, the causes and modalities are largely unclear. It may be — may have some connection to equally chimerical syndromes such as dyslexia, attention deficit disorder and autism.

APD mimics some of the symptoms of ADHD. If your child is being treated for attention deficit, and doesn't seem to be making what you consider acceptable progress, by all means extend your search for answers to having him examined for APD. This is an extremely informative site which presents numerous treatment options.

The next time your frustration level hits the danger level, and you feel that you're about to say, perhaps not in a kindly voice, "Did you hear what I just said?" you might take a deep breath. Consider that even if the answer you get is "yes" it might, in a very real sense, be "no."

Welcome to ADHDville, USA

I wish to propose a linguistic alteration.

I'm already tired of writing "children who suffer from ADHD" and "adults who exhibit symptoms of attention deficit disorder." So, unless my editors get all OED about "ADHD", I'm going to start referring to the subjects of these posts as "ADHDans." The "-an" suffix frequently indicates a resident of the place whose name precedes it, and as far as I'm concerned Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder is definitely a state of its own.

So, if you're reading this, it means my editors believe in descriptive, rather than prescriptive grammar. In other words, they're cutting me some slack. And cutting ADHDans like me some slack is what the rest of the world should do. We're not freaks, we're not sociopaths, we're not the Typhoid Marys of learning disorders. We just process things a littttttle bit differently than the majority of you folks.

And now, I'm off to watch the big game: ADHD State vs. Dyslexia Tech.

Unless that was yesterday.

Nice Genes

Genes are, to some extent, suggestions. Opportunities. Possibilities. Not mandates.

It's entirely possible to have one child who can be distracted by a feather dropping to the ground in the next county, whose full sibling could, if she wanted, read Wittgenstein in a steel mill while texting seven or eight of her closest buddies and memorizing every stitch of Mary J's wardrobe.

What's the point? It's not your fault if your kid has ADHD, even if you can trace it back in the family to great-uncle Hiram. Especially since, as far as I know, no meaningful genetic testing for the syndrome exists (although I'd love to hear about it if I'm wrong). The only things you can blame yourself for are denial ("It's just a phase, he'll grow out of it." Right. My phase has lasted since the Eisenhower administration.), willful ignorance, laziness and shame.

You think your child has ADHD? Fine. At least your eyes are open. Now get off your duff and DO something. Unlike me, you don't live in a Major Metropolitan Area? Do some research. You'll find a competent specialist. If you have to travel a couple of hundred miles once a month, so what? You'd do that, gladly, to get to the Rhododendron Festival, or the opening day of trout season, right? This is your kid's future we're talking about. His health. Her life, for heaven's sake.

Start taking some notes, not in front of the child, of course. When you do find someone to help, the more accurate anecdotal information you can provide the better things will go. Start reading. I have no axe to grind, but when I got interested in this subject the first book I read was Driven to Distraction and by Edward M. Hallowell and John J. Ratey. For me it was a good starting point.

I'll be writing soon about exercise and diet. In the meantime: a big bowl of Sugar-coated, Honey-drenched, Maple-glopped Chocolate Snakkies isn't a wholesome breakfast for anyone. For a kid with attention-deficit problems, it's a disaster. Are you really too busy to make a couple of scrambled eggs and some whole-wheat toast? Get up ten minutes earlier. We're talking about your child here.

I Heart REM

I've been holding out on you. There's a secret treatment for ADHD...

...Not a cure, but something that will help you stay focused, keep calm, remember where you left the little key that opens the thermostat cover and, generally, be more productive and better balanced.

It's free. It's verrrry enjoyable. All qualified medical practitioners agree it's necessary.

Sleep.

Before I got into wordsmithing fulltime, I spent about 25 years working as a cook and chef. I owned several businesses (losers, all. You need a big tax deduction, write to me directly.) Working 12-hour days was a vacation. Hundred-hour weeks were the usual routine. Tired? Beyond tired. Numb. Borderline hallucinatory.

Listen: fatigue can be a DRUG. It can feel good. You know how sometimes you actually LIKE being a little sick? Nothing serious, nothing overly painful, just something worth staying home from work for and spending the day watching The Thin Man or Now, Voyager. Or being a little hung-over, so everything's a little fuzzy? Fatigue is like that. It gives you an excuse for forgetting to pick up the kids. Moreover, it provides what part of your brain is always in search of — a filter. If you see life through a lens wiped with Vaseline, only the big images appear.

I've watched myself carefully. I usually try for at least six hours a night. Two or three nights in a row with only five hours? I can't even type, let alone write.

The head doctors can explain what happens. No REM sleep, no dreams, whatever. All I know is that if I can grab even eight hours every third day, I'm a different man. (You, in the mauve velour top, stop cheering).

Good ways to sleep better: exercise; take a nice warm shower about an hour before bedtime; turn your back on that leftover burrito in the fridge. No heavy food after, say 8:30. Watch a little TV, talk to your spouse (remember HIM, at least?). Spend a few quiet moments going over your notebook and calendar, planning tomorrow's assault on distraction. Oh, yes, spending some intimate, friendly, non-verbal time with your s/o (for cryin' out loud, do I have to spell it out? This is a family blog, sister.) is an excellent way to lead into a good sleep. Assuming everything goes as planned. I don't write about that stuff. As the Romans said, absit omen.

So if you find that you're absolutely DRIVEN to watch the end of CSI: Omaha, don't be surprised if you walk out tomorrow morning leaving your cell phone in the charger. Your brain wants its quiet time. Keep it up near the red line all day, all night, and you'll pay with those familiar fogs and static all day. Get your sleep.

As a matter of fact, it's 12:30 am and I'm . . .

What I Am NOT...

This being my first posting to ADDitude, some full disclosure...

I am NOT: a neurologist (or any other flavor of M.D.), a psychiatrist, a psychologist or a researcher. The only postnomials I'm qualified to tag on behind my name (post-nomial, see?) are a slightly tattered B.A. in English Lit.

I was diagnosed with ADHD, at the "whoa, Nellie!" level, about five years ago at an eminent hospital here in New York City. Prior to that, I always knew there was something dysfunctional about me, something less concrete and less defined than some of the other plagues visited upon me by insidious genes. It was a relief. I could stop trying to kill ghosts and concentrate on knitting up the loose ends in my brain.

I believe that ADHD is a real medical issue, as opposed to a purely psychological or emotional problem. I have no idea whether it can be "cured" although at this point I'm respectfully skeptical. I absolutely believe that the symptoms can be controlled to the point where you, the ADHD sufferer, are leading your life, rather than having your life lead you around in circles. My interest in writing these little essays, aside from gathering some beer money, is to investigate schemata for coping with, and minimalizing the effects of ADHD.

Closing notes:
In addition to being a writer, I'm a copyeditor and proofreader — a Ninja for clear, accurate prose (and yes, Virginia, there absolutely are rules). The point of this is that I refuse, point-blank, to write or say "everyone has their own opinion" or equally fudgy constructions. Hence, I tend to write "he" and ”she" when I'm referring to a single person. It's not sexism, mesdames, it's good grammar. Please: no letters until you've read the Chicago Manual of Style, cover to cover.

Last words. Unless you're totally tone deaf, or bored silly at this point, or—Egad, Holmes, it's the footprint of a giant HOUND!!—suffer from ADHD and lost the thread of this posting back around "postnomial" you might think that I'm a total wiseass. Absolutely right. Don't take it personally, don't assume that I'm mocking the afflicted. I am one. It's the way I face the demons. If I tried to write the way the mandarins among you wished, you'd all be asleep by now.