Treating ADHD Blog

Archives: December 2008

Michael Phelps: An ADHD Enigma

Somehow I didn't get the memo, but it appears that Michael Phelps, the much-gilded Olympic swimmer, suffers from ADHD.

Somehow I didn't get the memo, but it appears that Michael Phelps, the much-gilded Olympic swimmer, suffers from ADHD. Honestly. The Times doesn't lie.

This brought me up short. Almost made me spit out my first sip of coffee (note to self: the Sumatra isn't what I'm looking for, maybe have to go back to the old mix). Tara Parker-Pope, in her Well column, has outlined the nature of Mr. Phelps' affliction, and the wider issue of a developing, and more positive, view of ADHD.

Let me say, loud and clear, that I'm on thin ice here. Among the authorities quoted in the article are Dr. Edward Hallowell, author of Driven to Distraction and a contributor to ADDitude, and Dr. Harold Koplowitz, director of the Child Study Center at New York University Langone Medical Center. These gentlemen's reputations are global and well-founded. I, on the other hand, am a total hacker, an empirical, self-observant scribbler with absolutely no professional training in psychology, neurology, or any other formal discipline.

Having made my obeisances, I'd like to say that, from where I sit, tapping my fingers and jiggling my feet, the notion of Mr. Phelps' ADHD is—continuing to be respectful to my betters—counter-intuitive. It's possible that my reaction to Ms. Parker-Pope's article lies in my deep-seated loathing of swimming. Actually, I have strong reactions to water: I love standing—standing, not swimming—in a nice warm ocean; I like looking at, and wouldn't mind boating on, a river. My dream would be to have a big marble tub with a Jacuzzi and a spikenard dispenser. But on the few occasions that I've swum in a pond or lake, I've come out feeling…slimy.

As for swimming, well, our ancestors swam their way out of the swarming oceans, shed their fins and scales and gills and grew legs, and that's good enough for me. Swimming is the most boring of all exercises. You don't see anything, you can't hear anything, the goggles usually leak and the pool is usually about five degrees warmer than a properly made martini.

My understanding of the essential nature of ADHD, which appears to be on the way to being known as the "classical" or "original" or "outmoded" model of the situation, would suggest that we who suffer from it have difficulty concentrating on anything. Subjects vary in their abilities to hold our interest. Sex, food, gossip and money all keep us on tight leashes, while cricket, hermeneutical phenomenology, Canadian politics and the literature of Moldavia immediately beget twitching, yawning and flight.

You see where this is headed, right? I have no bones to pick with Mr. Phelps, Ms. Parker-Pope or Drs. Hallowell and Koplowitz. But it would be comforting if one of these illuminati could explain to me how a young man, alleged to be afflicted with ADHD and to have discontinued using drugs to treat that syndrome, can spend hours, every day, doing what I perceive to be among the least-appealing activities I can think of.

And if we can avoid any references to any state of aquatic satori achieved while doing the backstroke in a chilly, chlorinated pool, so much the better.

Tai Chi and ADHD - The Update

This year, I made my New Year's Resolutions early. How's the regular tai chi lesson going? Is my ADD succumbing to the "White Crane?" Read on...

I'd missed about a week of tai chi classes due to a little bout with the flu and an overdose of turkey, but, in obedience to my New Program, I went yesterday.

Results and notes:
I hadn't forgotten much. After all, it was only a week.
The moves I had missed weren't a problem. I was able to pick them up readily.
I'm still having trouble, mostly with the transitions from one move to another.
On the plus side, I've actually been exposed to about 35 of the 108 moves, and the teacher explained again that it's easier to learn the second half of the set because many of the moves are just repetition or variants.
This morning, I was sleeping so well that it took me twenty minutes to become fully conscious, or what passes for fully conscious for me.
When I went into the kitchen to start the coffee, I realized that I felt GREAT. Kind of like I was made out of very expensive, supple suede and I was just gliiiiiiding down the hall.

This was such a positive set of reactions that that nasty pissant part of my brain that would, ordinarily, already be lining up objections to my going to class tonight has been totally quashed.

All of this for 30 bucks a month for as many classes as you can get to. Of course, you have to live to be 60 to take advantage of this rate, but even the full rate is totally doable. It's one of those things where, when Mr. Negative up there starts saying, "Nyah, nyah, you can't afford to go, don't even think about it, you're too [old, fat, stupid, goofy, awkward, weak, clumsy] so why would you even consider it, have another couple of handfuls of M&M's [the peanut butter ones, stupid] and go see if you've watched that rerun of CSI: Bayonne" you can tell him, in the immortal words of Archie Bunker, "STIFLE YOURSELF."

Look: even if you have to pay the grownup-but-not-senescent rate of $55/mo., that comes to $1.80 a day. Knock off one of the açai/saffron chai lattes every day, and you're in like Flynn (don't bother asking me, I used to know; I forget; and if you're reading this you can find out as quickly as I can, you lazy dog).

I'm so jazzed up again that I'm going to give you the link to Taoist Tai Chi again. And no, I'm not in it for the money, honey. They're non-profit, and altogether too nice to be paying a shill. So put those nasty thoughts out of your cabeza, loca, and get moving.

Focusing on staying together when practicing the Taoist Tai Chi internal art of taijiquan enhances the experience and the feeling of the set as "moving meditation." (This move is called “White Crane Spreads Wings” and the picture and caption are taken from the Centre’s website)

Gantt Charts: Magic ADHD Organizer?

I found this five-step plan for hosting massive holiday gatherings online. Could a Gantt chart really solve all my problems next Thanksgiving?

If you're going to utilize the Internet effectively, you need to be able to sort through a lot of info quickly and do heartless triage. We'll get into that in more depth soon, but in the meanwhile (I'm trying to get this done quickly so that it doesn't morph into an excuse for not heading out into the rain and going to tai chi) let's look at one of the wackiest websites around, Instructables.com.

Honestly, the things people put their minds to. Making a custom platinum engagement ring, how to rescue a hummingbird, making a pneumatic golfball cannon ("Shoots 450+ yards!"), making your own roll-up keyboard, and how to crack a Master padlock. Some folks must have just tons of leisure time, and don't want to waste it reading the Iliad or Swann's Way.

So why bother to have my inbox cluttered up with this chazzerei? Because every now and then I come across a gem, like this: How to organize a big Thanksgiving dinner (24 guests, in this case). The author has developed a method, using a Gantt chart, to keep track of guests, menu, shopping, prep, service and tabletop ware, chairs, final assembly and service schedule. Most important, by saving these spreadsheets each year, you won't go nuts trying to remember if anyone ate the rutabaga puree, or how much gravy you were short by, or that Uncle Chester hates tarragon. Start with the next party you have, even if it's only a half-dozen friends for chips and dip to watch the finals of some reality show, and get in the habit of doing it for any event.

As you get into doing this, you'll figure out that Gantt charts can be applied to anything. Packing for a vacation (let's not forget the extra inhaler this year, okay?), sending Tommy off to college, closing up the summer house (no more frost-broken pipes?) and so on. Rather than have your brains spinning like a dreydl that's had four double espressos, you'll have reference material to consult. And not reference material from a book. Relevant material from your own life.

Confidence breeds calm. Calm begets concentration. Go for it.