On being ... a moral dilemma

By Ingrid Sapona

I don’t end up in situations that make me think a lot about my moral obligation to strangers. But, a relatively minor incident on Christmas Eve has had me thinking about it.

December 24th happens to be my father’s names day, which is a big thing to Greek Orthodox folks. So, at about 3:30 that afternoon my mother, sister and I headed to the cemetery to put a wreath on my father’s grave. The cemetery closes at sundown and we were determined to get there before the gates closed.

It was a dry day and the late afternoon sun was lovely and bright. As I was driving up a fairly busy side street, I suddenly saw a flash of sunlight reflected off of something in mid-air about 30 feet ahead of me. I was coming up to an underpass and my first thought was that maybe a large icicle had fallen from it, reflecting the sun as it fell. I quickly ruled that out, however, because it was far too warm for icicles. No one else in the car saw anything.

As I continued forward, I realized I was just about to pass a car parked on the street. It then occurred to me that the flash of light could have been the sun reflecting off a mirror flying through the air. Sure enough, as I passed it, I noticed the side view mirror on driver’s side of the parked car was dangling down and bits of a mirror were on the ground. That’s when I noticed a car that was about 40 feet ahead of me going in the same direction I was. I told my sister what I thought I had seen and I asked her to jot down the plate number of the car driving ahead of me.

I managed to pull up next to the car at a red light and I noticed the side view mirror on the passenger side was broken off and dangling. I also noticed that the car had a handicapped parking tag. While at the light, I did not catch the driver’s attention and I did not attempt to talk to her. When the light turned, she continued along and I turned in the direction toward the cemetery.

I immediately felt burdened with the question of what to do, given what I thought had happened. I decided to continue on to the cemetery because it meant a lot to us to get there before it closed. I also figured going straight there would give me more time to think.

The facts were straightforward: I did not actually see the car in front of me sheer off the mirror of the parked car. All I saw was some sort of glimmer and then I noticed that a parked car’s mirror was busted and that the corresponding side view mirror on the car in front of me also was broke. Perhaps these facts were all unrelated.

But, all the way to the cemetery, I kept thinking about how I’d feel if I came out and found my car’s mirror broken and I didn’t know who did it. Not a very nice Christmas present. (I know from experience that side view mirrors aren’t cheap -- they run anywhere from $350-$500!) I know I’d appreciate it if someone who might know how it happened spoke up.

But I also tried to put myself in the position of the driver of the car I think might have been responsible. When I noticed the handicapped tag I wondered whether the driver might be a senior who didn’t hear, feel, or notice anything unusual. If she was a senior, I worried about whether reporting the incident might cause complications for her vis-à-vis family and/or the police questioning whether she should still be driving if she is so unaware. Did I want to feel responsible for pushing that issue -- especially over something like a side view mirror? That wouldn’t exactly be a nice Christmas present either. I have to say, however, that when I saw her from the side, she did not look old enough to be a senior.

I realized I could have tried to speak with her at the red light. But, frankly, I didn’t relish a confrontation. And I thought about leaving a note on the parked car, saying I thought I witnessed someone sideswipe the mirror and leaving my name, number and the licence plate of the car I thought might be responsible -- but what if I was wrong about it?

On the way home from the cemetery I stopped at the local police station and gave them the licence plate of the car I thought might have sideswiped the parked car, as well as the exact location of it. The police officer was very nice and said I did the right thing. He took my name and number and said that if someone reports a damaged side view mirror on a parked car, they’d at least have “a head start”.

I don’t know what, if anything, happened after that. I thought the police might send a patrol car to have a look and maybe inquire at the house where the car was parked, but I don’t know if they did. Maybe they too just thought it best not to get involved unless someone complains.

It’s been interesting asking friends what they would have done. I’ve been surprised by the number of folks who say they probably wouldn’t have done anything. I don’t think there’s one right answer, which is why I struggled with whether to do anything in the first place. I just did what felt right to me.

What would you have done?

© 2012 Ingrid Sapona

On being … lab tested

By Ingrid Sapona

Awhile back I read a car review for the new Fiat 500. Because it was in the Wheels section of the newspaper, and because it was written by the Wheels Editor, I expected it to be kinda technical – you know, a discussion of the horsepower, fuel efficiency, number of air bags, and so on. But, looking back at it, I guess the headline (“Button drove me crazy”) was a tipoff.

Apparently the editor test drove the “cute European car” for a week. After a brief history of Chrysler’s North American launch of the car, the editor said, plainly, that he wouldn’t buy one. His reason was not what you might expect from someone who makes a living writing about cars -- it was because of the “stupid seat heater switch” on the dashboard.

It seems the white light on the button that’s meant to show if the heater is on or off is “so poorly designed that if there’s any kind of daylight in the vehicle, you just can’t see it.” The editor admitted the button is “a very small foible” but, he said, “it would bug me every single day until I sold the thing.”

He then explained about a BMW he once test drove that was fabulous during the day but at night a warning light that indicated that the passenger airbag was off “became the eye’s only focus”. He finally “fixed” the problem by covering the annoying light with some black electrical tape. Inventive solution, no doubt, but electrical tape on a BMW’s dashboard surely isn’t the look those famed German engineers were going for.

Wondering if he’s the only one who finds that some small, nagging thing negates everything good about a car, he invited readers to write in. Well – did he get a response! Over the next two weeks many column-inches in the Wheels section were devoted to complaints from readers about questionable design features.

Though I don’t have any specific car-related stories, I certainly can relate. Indeed, I’m finding more and more gadgets with features that are useless at best, and irritating at worst. Lots of them relate to design features I usually describe as “too cute by half”, meaning they may be neat ideas in specific (ideal?) conditions but they’re a pain in most circumstances.

My mother recently got a wireless gizmo that converts the audio from her t.v. into a signal her hearing aids can pick up. With it, the t.v.’s volume can be set to a normal level for the rest of us, but she can hear it directly. It’s a two-part system including a transmitter and a necklace with a pendant that picks up the signal and relays it wirelessly to her hearing aids. Remarkable technology, but they made some design decisions that make using it tricky if you’ve got arthritis, dexterity issues, or vision problems (which one would think would be many in of the seniors in the device’s target market).

The pendant is nice and light but, I guess to make it sleek, the on/off button is recessed along one edge, making it hard to find and hard to push. To turn the thing on or off you have to keep the button depressed for quite a while (more than the two seconds the instructions say) until one of the small (you could say miniscule) lights along the edge comes on. If you see a solid red light, that means you’ve turned it off. But, whatever you do, don’t look away as you’re pressing the button because you may miss the red light’s temporary illumination. If you press the button too long you might see a green light, in which case you’ve probably turned it off and then on again.

Then, if the green light is flashing, it means the device is on but the sound is muted. A solid green light means the hearing aid should be picking up the sound. An orange light may also appear (I don’t remember if it’s flashing or solid) to warn that the battery is low. Honestly, the different lights going on and off makes you think you need to know Morse code to use it. Too clever by half, I tell you!

And then there are some products where it seems attention was paid to every little thing, and yet they’ve left off a feature that seems pretty basic. The iPod Touch is an example of this. It’s amazing all the clever things you can do on it with the merest touch of a finger. And yet, I found that the only way to correct a typo when inputting information on it is by backspacing out all that you’ve typed after the mis-typed letter.

Indeed, I found that so unbelievable, I assumed I simply hadn’t figured out how to do it. So, I asked Sandy, my tech guru. When she confirmed there isn’t a way to go back without backspacing, I said I thought that was a serious design flaw. Her comment was: “so you think they should have made even smaller keys so they could cram in more functions?” I see her point, but FCOL*, surely I’m not the only person who still writes out whole words?

The thing that gets me about these kinds of irritants is that you know that every design decision was made consciously (lights don’t get put on dashboards or devices by accident, after all). And yet, it so often seems design engineers don’t really “get” how normal people use things, or they seem to ignore the conditions that exist out in the real world -- you know, the world where people actually use the gadgets. Oh, if only the engineers left the lab now and then…

© 2012 Ingrid Sapona

*for those of you not up on your texting abbreviations: FCOL = for crying out loud! (And no, I didn’t know that -- I Googled text message shorthand!)

On being ... Sesame Street-inspired

by Ingrid Sapona

A Toronto Star columnist’s novel approach to reviewing the year’s tech law news stories caught my eye and my fancy. So, in http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifthe spirit of that column – and with a nod to Sesame Street – here’s a look back at some of the things that were noteworthy to me in 2011:

Alarming – in my first column of this year (January 15, 2011) I wrote about being alarmed by the stories of hundreds of birds falling out of the sky. I haven’t heard anything more about it. Though I still find it bothersome, I guess I can live without knowing why it happened, especially if there are no reports of more such incidents.
Business – after a few slow years, thankfully 2011 was one of my better years business-wise. (See S)
Cars – this year I sold my 14-year-old Buick and imported a car from the U.S. In the process I gained a new appreciation for how much time and money is spent on matters related to cars.
Democracy – that’s what most of us hope will be the result of The Arab Spring. But in the meanwhile, I think we should all pray for peace in the region.
Earthquakes – Though the devastation of all the massive earthquakes always makes the news, a friend shared some e-mails from people in Christchurch, N.Z., that drove home to me the fear, anxiety, and edginess survivors live through with every aftershock. I can’t imagine that.
Foodstock – perhaps the most meaningful event I attended all year. It was a pay-what-you-can fundraiser put on by the Canadian Chef’s Congress to raise awareness of efforts aimed at stopping creation of a mega limestone quarry that would destroy prime Ontario farmland. With seven billion people on the earth, it seems to me it’s in everyone’s interest to protect what little arable land there is.
Groupon – this year I discovered Groupon (and other such sites) and had a lot of fun trying new restaurants and new activities. (See M)
Hope – I sincerely hope that the disparity between the 99% and the 1% highlighted by the Occupy Movement narrows, otherwise I fear for the future. (See O)
iPod – I decided it was about time I got on the Apple bandwagon and so late in the year I got an iPod Touch. (See N)
Jobs, Steve – though news of his death at a young age was sad, I can’t help think he was lucky because he was one of the few visionaries to witness the impact his ideas had on the world.
Knee – my sister had a total knee replacement this year. I know such operations have been around for years, but it’s still pretty unbelievable to me. Three of us arranged our schedules so that she’d have someone to help her those first few weeks after the surgery. I was the last to stay with her and by the time I left she was able to do pretty much everything, including drive. Amazing.
Lucky – Every day something in the news reminds me just how lucky I am.
Meditation – I bought a Groupon (See G) for a five week meditation course and it was terrific. Since then I’ve tried to incorporate it into my daily routine and it’s been most beneficial.
Not intuitive – though I’ve always thought of myself as pretty intuitive, the iPod Touch (See I) has proven to me that I’m not. (At least not in that way…)
Occupy Movement – I think in years to come historians will look back at the Occupy Movement and say that it was a critical catalyst for social change (See H), much the way African Americans who dared sit at lunch counters in the south were catalysts for the civil rights movement.
Passwords – earlier this year (February 15, 2011) I wrote a column about being an evangelist for technology and in that I mentioned a couple programs that revolutionized the way I do business. I’m pleased to say that I turned one sister on to KeePass, a program that I use to keep track of passwords and other information. (I’m still trying to persuade my other sister to try it.)
Queen – After the grace she displayed on their tour of Canada this summer, I look forward to the day when Catherine Middleton becomes queen.
Radiation – I found the nuclear reactor meltdown in Japan after the earthquake and tsunami unnerving. I would have been very happy to go through life without needing to know about millisieverts.
Stumped – I’m stumped about how to continue the positive trend I had in my business in 2011. (See B)
Tsunami – One of the t.v. channels I get has aired a half-hour English language newscast from Japan daily since the March 11th disasters. The story of what the survivors have gone through, and how they are trying to rebuild their lives, has moved me more than any other story this year.
Uplifting words – I wrote a column (August 30, 2011) about the uplifting words used by Jack Layton in the Letter to Canadians that he penned as he was dying. His choice of words and optimistic tone was a reminder of the power of words. Looking back at lessons from the year – suffusing my conversations and writing with positive, uplifting words is something I am determined to do more of in 2012.
Video calls – I was turned on to Skype this year and, after lots of lobbying, I managed to convince one of my sisters to install it. Ever since our first video call she feels we’re living the Jetsons’ life.
Weather – with things like the catastrophic drought in Texas, unprecedented flooding in Bangkok, and city-leveling tornados like the one that hit Joplin, Missouri, you have to wonder what’s going on.
Xcuse – given that this column is already long, I make no excuse for not being able to come up with something that starts with an X.
Yes – a word that I’ve made a conscious effort to say more of this year. If it’s not already a central word in your vocabulary, I promise saying it more often will change your life.
Zzzzzs – about the only thing I’ve not had quite enough of this past year – but then again, who has?

All the best in 2012!

© 2011 Ingrid Sapona

On being ... words of wisdom

By Ingrid Sapona

I’ve been meaning to follow up on the column I wrote in mid-July called: On being … a good (if unoriginal) idea. That column was about wisdom I found in Katie Couric’s book: The Best Advice I Ever Got: Lessons from Extraordinary Lives. At the end of that column I invited readers to share advice they’ve gotten, or wisdom they’ve gained in their life. A few readers shared stories with me that I thought I’d share with all of you.

One reader wrote about advice she got from a 93-year-old woman. The younger woman, who was in her 20s at the time, asked the senior: “How you get to be 93?” In response, the woman looked her square in the eye and said, “Do everything in moderation and learn to accept and adjust to whatever life gives you.” The reader commented on how many times in her life she’s thought of that remarkable woman (who, by the way, lived to be 101) and of her advice about not reacting to what is happening but, rather, to accept and adjust.

Another wrote about a comment his father said to him just weeks before he passed away. The two were sitting in a bank and three children were playing nearby, making lots of noise and not listening. The reader said he thought sure his “stern old dad” would find the children more than annoying, but when he asked his father if he was getting irritated, his old man said: “of course not, dummy … You don’t understand anything.”

When he asked his father “So why am I a dummy?”, in his native Italian, his father responded: “Because if you weren’t you would see that the children are bouncing around so that is a good thing. That means they are healthy. If you see a child in a place like this for a long time and they are just sitting there then you know they are sick. I appreciate seeing their good health.” That episode gave the reader valuable perspective into his father’s insightfulness, and it taught him a lesson he says he tries to take into account every day with his own children.

Another reader mentioned advice his grandfather imparted on him as a young boy. At the time, the reader was working alongside his grandfather, who was building a house. The advice was: “Measure twice, cut once”. When I read that, I thought, “I’ve heard that before – haven’t we all”? But what made that story so special, I thought, was that the reader also mentioned: “I was thinking of him today and this advice which I did not pay attention to. … I was in a hurry this morning and measured wrong and cut my lumber, much to my dismay. So it was off to Home Depot yet again!”

There are two things I love about all these stories, besides the underlying wisdom in the advice. First, I love the fact that every reader who shared such a story wasn’t just relaying the advice -- they were also reflecting on the advice giver. They were, in effect, bringing them back to life, which is a quite a tribute in itself.

The second thing I love about stories like these is that every time you recall such advice, you can’t help but take stock. It seems inevitable that you take mental measure of how you’ve let the advice take hold in your life -- thinking about the times you heeded it -- and maybe some times you didn’t, but wish you had.

And finally, along the lines of words of wisdom that give one pause, I heard something the other day that seems especially fitting to offer as food for thought heading into the New Year. It came up in a meditation course I was taking. At the end of one session the instructor asked how we felt after having practiced meditation for a few weeks. One of the participants volunteered that since he started meditating he noticed people in his social circle related to him very differently. He said he felt the clarity he was gaining through meditation was somehow having a positive effect on the way others interacted with him. Though I felt I’ve benefitted from beginning to practice mindful meditation, I couldn’t relate to what he described and, had it not been for what the instructor said in response, I wouldn’t have thought much more about his comment.

In previous sessions of the meditation course I noticed that no matter what a student said, the instructor always found a way of positively -- if benignly -- affirming the student’s comment. But this time the instructor’s affirming response carried with it a powerful, viewpoint-shifting idea. He said, “Hmmm, yes. Change your self, change your world.” It took a moment for me to absorb that statement, but as soon as I did, I saw the profound wisdom in it.

So, as you consider what you hope 2012 will bring, remember -- if you want change in the world (or at least in your world) -- the surest way to make that happen is to change yourself.

Happy Holidays…

© 2011 Ingrid Sapona

On being ... a (super)hero

By Ingrid Sapona

A headline on the bottom of the front page of the Insight section of last Saturday’s Toronto Star read: “Meet Thanatos, Polarman and Dark Guardian”. I suspect the headline caught my eye because of the word Thanatos, which is a word I’m familiar with from the Greek Orthodox Church’s Easter service -- it means death. So seeing that word combined with Polarman (whatever that is) and Dark Guardian (whatever that is), definitely intrigued me.

The article proved even more interesting than the title. It was about people who consider themselves real life superheroes. They create identities -- often complete with costumes and face masks or at least face paint -- and they patrol neighbourhoods to fight crime and other evils.

Initially, I found the idea creepy (if a bit absurd). They sound like vigilantes, which I have always found worrisome. From the photos accompanying the article it was clear the costumes are meant to look scary, if not intimidating. Oh Great, I thought, nut-jobs bent on meting out their own version of justice. Just what we need…

Apparently there are more superheroes among us than you might expect. The article talked about a documentary that came out last summer that featured 50 self-styled superheroes. And of course, the Internet has helped bring many of them together. There are web sites where people (sorry, superheroes) exchange ideas. And, of course, what would a movement be without a support group of some sort. You guessed it -- there’s an organization called Superheroes Anonymous; it holds workshops and conferences to help people develop their superhero persona.

But, just as I noticed my stomach churning from my fear, trepidation, and general uneasiness about these real life caped and masked crusaders, the story went on to describe the specific activities of the characters (er, superheroes) named in the article’s headline. Thanatos, who wears a green and black mask, black trench coat, and wide-brimmed black hat, has been “patrolling” Vancouver streets for four years, handing out water and blankets to the homeless.

Dark Guardian lurks in New York City parks looking for drug dealers. When he comes across any he shines a flash light on them and yells “This is a drug-free park” in an effort to scare them and get them to move on. And Polarman -- perhaps the most uniquely Canadian superhero -- patrols streets in Iqaluit (the capital of the territory of Nunavut, which is near the arctic circle) keeping an eye out for vandals and shovelling city sidewalks.

Ok, perhaps the causes these “superheroes” are championing -- and the way they’re going about things -- isn’t that scary. In fact, according to the article, “few of the masked men and women out there actually fight crime. … they mostly do community work, such as helping the homeless and patrolling troubled areas, handing out flyers.”

By the end of the article, I didn’t really know what to make of these folks. Part of my lack of understanding comes from the fact that the whole concept of superheroes is foreign to me. Growing up I never read comic books (nor did my sisters, as far as I know). In fact, it wasn’t until a few years ago when someone asked me what “superpower” I would most like to have that I even realized that what distinguishes a superhero from, well, I guess any other type of hero, is the specific superpower. Somehow I knew if I said something like “the ability to bake anything”, the guy who asked me the question wouldn’t have gotten the joke. So, I just told the truth, which is that I’ve never given it a moment’s thought.

Though the idea of adults donning masks and costumes and pretending to be superheroes seems crazy, if not comic and a bit creepy, the article made me think about why superheroes capture peoples’ imagination in the first place. I guess the reason people fantasize about them is because there is injustice and danger in the world and they want to believe that something -- someone -- can make things better.

I have the same hope and dream about people taking action to make the world better -- but I don’t think that only folks with superpowers can change the world. I think each of us has the power within us to make the world better -- we just have to take action. Ironically, I think that’s really what each of the folks featured in the article believe too -- it’s just that for some reason they feel better trying to change things while dressed in a costume.

I don’t believe in superheroes, but I do think that we can all be super heroes. And, with the holidays around the corner, it’s the perfect time to let the hero within spring into action. If you don’t know what to do or how to begin -- just pick a charity. There are plenty that can use your help, and most don’t require you to wear a costume. (If, on the other hand, you’re into that kind of thing, I’ll bet at this time of year you can even find a charity that can lend you a spiffy red velvet suit with white fur trim to wear.)

© 2011 Ingrid Sapona

On being ... a proverbial minefield

A friend (Felicity, not her real name) recently mentioned in an e-mail to me and some other friends of hers that she was planning on taking a professional development seminar. As part of the pre-seminar “homework” she needed to get feedback from people who knew her. The homework involved asking friends to list her three best qualities.

As I finished reading the e-mail, I remembered a situation years ago where I had to ask for such feedback from friends as part of some career counselling. I found the exercise quite valuable and I was taken aback by my friends’ insights about me. As a result, I thought it important to think before providing my response. So, I wrote her back and said I’d e-mail her my list shortly.

As it happened, as soon as I hit send on that e-mail, into my In Box popped an e-mail from Jane (not her real name), one of the other women Felicity included on that first e-mail. Unlike me, Jane was able to rhyme off three of Felicity’s qualities without hesitation. I don’t mind admitting that Jane’s speedy response made me feel oddly self-conscious about taking time with my response. Oh well…

Later that afternoon Felicity wrote me again to ask for my input on a simplified “360 Feedback” exercise that was also pre-seminar homework. Though there were only three questions on the form, they made the task of coming up with Felicity’s best qualities seem simple. So, I decided to start on my response about her qualities first.

As I thought about Felicity, a number of exceptional qualities came to mind – including those Jane mentioned. I managed to narrow my list but there was one particular quality I think Felicity has but that I had misgivings about listing: ambitiousness. I couldn’t help think that -- for better or worse -- there’s a double-standard when it comes to describing a woman as ambitious. (It’s like the difference between describing someone as aggressive versus assertive.) As a result, I know that to some the word has negative connotations.

I was surprised by the churning in my stomach as I debated about whether to include that quality on the list. Ultimately, I decided to include it because it reflects how in awe I am at all Felicity strives for and achieves -- both professionally and personally. Of course, I could only hope she too considers ambition a positive attribute.

The 360 Feedback questions were a whole other matter. The first question asked for examples of when I thought Felicity is at her best. That seemed pretty easy. The next question asked for examples of when she’s not at her best and for comments on how that impacts projects. Oh, and the instructions specifically ask that people responding be “honest, candid and open”. Hmmm… When I read that, the old joke about the prosecutor asking the defendant if he stopped beating his wife with a leather strap, came to mind. You know, the kind of question that no matter how you answer it, you’re in jeopardy.

I ended up spending a lot of time crafting my responses. My goal was to be even handed and constructive, as well as honest and candid. But, I found it very anxiety-provoking. I couldn’t help thinking that whatever I wrote revealed as much about me as it did about Felicity.

After I sent her my response, I told my friend Rob (not his real name) about it and how challenging I found it. His first comment was, “you didn’t tell the truth, did you?” Though his tone implied he was teasing me, I knew his comment was thinly disguised advice. He explained that in 360 reviews he’s participated in, to guarantee anonymity, the feedback was always submitted to a neutral third party. He thought without that layer, most people would not provide honest feedback. As you can imagine, Rob’s comments only fuelled my discomfort.

My discussion with Rob brought to mind an unpleasant episode I encountered once as a result of an evaluation form I filled in after taking a work-place seminar. I earnestly filled in the evaluation, providing what I thought of as constructive criticism. At the bottom of the form was room for our name and so I dutifully provided mine.

Well, let’s just say some of my comments were not received in the spirit in which they were given. Later, a trusted colleague who had been with the company a long time, told me that no one ever signs evaluations. Though I’ve always believed in owning up to my opinions (which is why I had no qualms about signing the evaluation), I learned my lesson. After that I followed the unwritten company policy and provided only anonymous feedback.

The exercises Felicity asked me for input on has had me ruminating about the delicate navigation required to be honest yet sensitive to others’ feelings when giving feedback. In thinking about it, the minefield metaphor came to mind as a title for an On being …. But, as I was nearing completion of this column I came across a sad news story about Syria laying landmines on its border with Lebanon in an effort to stop Syrians from fleeing. After reading that, I realized that though we may worry that our words or comments might be taken the wrong way or might cause unintended hurt, how lucky we are that the minefields we encounter are only of the proverbial kind.

© 2011 Ingrid Sapona

On being ... senior moments

By Ingrid Sapona

The past month I’ve had quite a few senior moments. No, I’m not talking about the forgetfulness variety. I mean I’ve had the opportunity to spend a bit of time with some delightful -- and extraordinary -- folks in their eighth, ninth, and even 10th decade.

It so happens many friends of our family have October birthdays and this year many of them marked milestones, including one who turned 90 and two who turned 80. One of the 80-year-olds is my god mother, Audrey. Though she was adamant about not wanting a party, she’s a tea drinker so I had a surprise High Tea for her and some of her friends.

The average age of the ladies at the tea was well over 75 -- I know this because some mentioned their age in the course of conversation that afternoon and all but one of the others proudly told me how old she was when I asked.

They were a charming, energetic, and talkative group. As I watched them, I couldn’t help but admire their outlook and enthusiasm. As with any group of seniors, there was the inevitable talk about aches and pains, but clearly none of them have let physical struggles hold them back. My godmother, for example, was declared legally blind a few years ago as a result of macular degeneration. But, other than her seeking confirmation from me about whether her outfit looked coordinated, failing vision hasn’t slowed her down.

And then there was Mrs. Robb, our friend who had turned 90 the week before. She grew up in Bavaria but moved to the U.S. when she married a GI after World War II. She had a couple sons and was widowed pretty young. In her 70s she re-married, but was widowed again in her mid-80s. She’s fortunate because she has a son and adult grandchildren nearby, but still, it’s amazing to me that she lives on her own. And, she clearly intends to stay put: to celebrate her 90th she put an addition on her house -- a solarium.

Mrs. Kennedy was one of the few at the tea I didn’t know much about, so I made a special effort to chat with her. She was all too happy to tell me a bit about her life as a wife and mother on a dairy farm years ago. I knew she was widowed and lived with one of her sons and his family, but I was surprised to hear that at 65, he’s her baby. Then again, I didn’t realize until that afternoon that she’ll be 90 in January.

In telling me about her family, she mentioned she had one son who died at the age of two after eating poison mushrooms. She explained that back then (the early 1940s), they always ate wild mushrooms they picked. Apparently that one time everyone got sick immediately and they all recovered after they vomited, but the little boy never threw up. “We ate the mushrooms on a Sunday and by Wednesday he was dead,” she said. I simply can’t imagine the heartbreak. I asked her how you get over something like that and she said, “you just go on…”.

Nearly half the ladies were widowed, a couple had lost children to devastating illness, and still others are taking care of ailing spouses. And those are just some of the sorrows and hardships I’m aware of -- I’m sure they’ve all lived through much, much more. And yet, it was clear they were there not just to celebrate Audrey’s birthday -- but to celebrate life.

A few days after the high tea, I crossed paths with Fauja Singh, an extraordinary 100-year-old who was in Toronto to try to make history. He hoped to be the oldest person to complete a full marathon. He was born on a farm in India in 1911 and lived there well into retirement. But, after witnessing an accident in which one of his sons was killed and the death his wife shortly thereafter, he moved in with one of his sons in the U.K. in 1992.

Then, at the age of 89, he took up running to beat the boredom of sitting around. In 2003 Adidas heard of his running achievements and signed him to an endorsement deal. These days, through his running, Singh raises thousands for charities and to inspire others to lead a more active life. Singh made it into the record books when he finished the marathon in 8 hours, 25 minutes.

Because I was asked to write a short article about him, I covered the race. At the end of the race he looked tired, but energized by the cheering crowd. When asked how he felt, Singh spoke only about his emotional state, not his physical state, saying he felt absolutely overjoyed. He also said he was happy his time was faster than his goal of 9 hours. The fact he even set a target time says a lot -- my goal would just be finishing -- however long it takes!

At the post-race press conference, in talking about his accomplishments, Singh insisted he’s nothing special. He maintained that the key is to “simply carry on breathing, make the effort and do it -- and stop making excuses”. That no nonsense attitude, spirit of endurance, and desire to get the most out of life seemed the secret all the seniors I spent time with this month have figured out.

I’ve never liked the traditional meaning of the expression “senior moments”. So, I propose we re-purpose it as a shorthand way of reminding ourselves to treasure the moments we spend with seniors. Indeed, the more time I spend with them, the more I appreciate the depth and strength of the human spirit. After all, getting old isn’t for the feint hearted.

© 2011 Ingrid Sapona

On being ... a gut reaction

By Ingrid Sapona

I don’t know about you, but I’m getting pretty tired of reading news stories about medical guidelines because it’s just getting too damned confusing. It seems that every day there’s another headline about some medical recommendation that seems to contradict other medical advice that they told us about last year.

The thing is, no matter how confusing the news is, I’m drawn to such stories. How can you not be? Of course, I can quickly rule out about half the stories because they’re about a group that I’m not part of (for example, stories about people taking specific medications) or about a condition that isn’t an issue for me (like prostate cancer). But there are lots of topics that clearly are potentially directly relevant (like mammogram screening guidelines) so I can’t simply tune out.

This week was a banner week for confusing and seemingly contradictory medical advice. First there was the news that men who don’t have prostate cancer symptoms should not get PSA (prostate-specific antigen) blood tests. Until now, the test was pretty standard for men over 50. Apparently the experts are now of the opinion that not only is the test not particularly good at detecting prostate cancer, the test has caused harm.

Next there was news about dangers to “older women” who take vitamin supplements. Though I’m not quite in the age group they were talking about, I paid attention to this story because I take vitamins. Some reports made it sound like the danger comes from mega-doses, but others make it sound like there’s danger from even “normal” doses. Does this mean I should give up my multi-vitamin? I have no idea.

Ironically, a medical headline with an intentional contradiction actually made perfect sense to me. The headline read: “If you know CPR, do it. If you don’t, do it anyway”. The article was reporting on a warning made this week by Canadian emergency physicians who believe too many Canadians are dying from cardiac arrest because bystanders refuse to help.

According to the story in Friday’s Toronto Star, doctors are campaigning to teach more people how to perform CPR. I know, seems like old medical news, right? Well, the new twist is that doctors are now saying that even if you have no CPR training, if you see someone in cardiac arrest you should do chest compressions on them. As Dr. Christian Vaillancourt, an Ottawa doctor quoted in the article, put it: “You cannot harm a cardiac arrest victim. … You cannot do CPR wrong. Doing something helps.”

The article also quoted Peter Macintyre, a spokesperson for Toronto Emergency Medical Services, who put it even more plainly: “It’s a scary thing. But one thing to remember is the person is dead. They have no pulse, they’re not breathing. They’re dead. Nothing you’re going to do to them is going to make them any worse. Do CPR and they’ve got a chance.”

Many years ago I took CPR. We all practiced on the dummy torso and we were taught how many compressions you do in a row between delivering breaths. Some years later I even took a refresher course. By then they had revised the training and we were told to do compressions to the beat of the Bee Gees’ Saturday Night Fever. The message I took away from both courses is that CPR is a serious thing and doing it right is important. Unfortunately, I quickly forgot the exact number of compressions and so I figured I’d never actually do it on anyone.

Then, one day in 1998 I happened to be at my parents’ house when my father collapsed in the kitchen. About six months before that he had had a heart attack and while in the hospital his heart had stopped and they had to use a defibrillator to get it started again. So, when he fell in the kitchen, I rushed to him and started compressions. I remembered thinking that I really didn’t know what I was doing, but that I had to do something. Meanwhile my mother phoned 911.

Thankfully, Dad came around before the ambulance arrived. As they took him to the hospital, I hoped I hadn’t made him worse by doing what I did, given that I knew I didn’t do it exactly as I had been taught. To help ease my guilt, I reasoned that chances are the jolt he got hitting the floor is probably what got his heart going again, not my attempt at CPR. In the weeks that followed that incident he had by-pass surgery and eventually they implanted a defibrillator.

So, reading that article this week about doing CPR even if you’re not sure how to do it put to rest any lingering doubt I had. More importantly, it reaffirmed my belief that when it comes to any kind of medical news, the best you can do is try to make sense of it in the context of your own life and the particular situation. And then, after weighing the alternatives, go with your gut and hope for the best.

© 2011 Ingrid Sapona