I have a remarkable seven-year-old daughter. Yes, she has her many weaknesses and idiosyncrasies (don’t we all?), but I am amazed and impressed by her resilience in so many ways. My daughter started having seizures in the first few months of her life. We have been in and out of Primary Children’s hospital with EEGs and other things so many times I have lost count. Some of these have been routine, some have been scary. But through it all, she has kept a beautiful smile on her face. 

Last week we spent 9 days in the hospital with her for her 5th brain surgery. Weirdly, brain surgery has started to feel like a normal procedure for us. But there we were, neurosurgeons drilling holes in her skull and sticking electrodes into her brain to monitor seizure activity and eventually ablate an area of her brain that was triggering her seizures. Tense for sure, but also hopeful. The goal: seizure freedom.

During the time I got to spend with my sweet girl I was able to observe and ponder on her impressive resilience. There were several lessons I picked up. Here are a few:

1. Be Aware Of Your Narrative

On her second day in the hospital, a nurse came into the room to do a vitals check as well as to make sure her movement on both sides of her body was still good (standard practice when you are sticking stuff in the brain). He was positive, cheerful, and friendly as all the people at Primary Children’s seem to be. Yet there was one moment that stood out to me as a major learning lesson. It was highlighted to me because of my daughter’s resilient response.

While the nurse was checking my daughter’s bilateral movement, he asked her to lift her legs and kick to check for equal strength on each side. To get her to do this, he said, “Kick your legs and show me how mad you are to have to be at the hospital.” I get it. The hospital is not necessarily the place kids want to be. He was trying to get movement.

But my daughter’s response was very different than he expected. She didn’t kick at all. She said, “I’m not mad. I’m happy.”

My daughter was genuinely happy to be at the hospital. Despite being poked, prodded, interrupted throughout the night, etc., she was happy to be at the hospital. Some of this is because my wife and I, and the Primary Children’s staff, have worked hard to make each stay a positive experience. We have found ways to help her work through hard things and be brave by giving her things to look forward to after the challenge. And so, despite the many discomforts she has to experience, she is genuinely happy to be there.

What this nurse didn’t realize (or intend) is that the simple phrase, “show me how mad you are to be at the hospital,” was creating a negative narrative about a challenging experience. This is a dangerous narrative. It makes the experience so much harder. It is counter to principles of resilience.

How often are we conscious of our internal narratives? How intentional are we in framing our minds to be positive, powerful, and capable? No matter what situation we are in, our focus and narrative create our reality.

Having a clear, positive internal narrative is a major key to developing resilience in ourselves and our loved ones. Intentionally script a positive, internal narrative.

2. Mindfulness Can Get Us Through Hard Things

Getting an IV is not a fun experience, especially for a 7-year-old. It hurts going in, it is uncomfortable while it is in, and getting it flushed 3-4 times a day doesn’t feel good either. If there is one thing my daughter dreads about going to the hospital, it is getting an IV. That may be because she has had them fail before and to be poked over and over again.

My wife is a very wise woman, and to help my daughter to work through her least favorite part about being in the hospital, she taught her some mindful breathing. She walked her through how to take a deep breath in through her nose and then out through her mouth. She helped her to put her full focus on her breath.

That wonderful little girl trusted her mother completely. Her sweet 7-year-old self practiced that breathing like a champ. Then, when it came time for the nurses to insert the IV, she paused and started her breathing. She looked like a monk, peacefully breathing away while a thick needle was placed into her hand.

Each time the nurses came in to flush the IV to make sure it was still viable, that little girl would pause them and say, “Hold on, I need to do my breathing.” Then she would close her eyes and focus on her breath while the nurses would do their work. She wouldn’t even flinch. It was a sight to behold and it brought a smile to my face (and the nurses) every single time.

What she did next leads to the next lesson of resilience:

3. Think Of Others and Serve Them

The nurses noticed and commented on how cool it was that she was doing her mindful breathing. That is when my daughter shifted a bit with her mindfulness. She started to be mindful of others.

“You should teach your other patients how to do this breathing. It would really help them,” she said. Her focus shifted to not only managing her pain but wanting to help others with their pain too. I think she talked with 3 or 4 nurses at least talking to them about mindful breathing and how it helped her and that they should teach others. This happened enough times that I asked her if she wanted a way to share with more people. She immediately said, “yes.”

So, together, we made a video on resilience for YouTube. You can watch that video [HERE].

Stickers

My daughter loves stickers. On her first day at the hospital, shortly after the initial surgery, some lovely volunteers came by her room to bring fun things for her to be able to do while in bed. She was ecstatic when they gave her a zip-lock bag full of stickers. They came in all shapes, sizes, and colors. When she saw the holographic heart stickers, she glowed with excitement. 

When nurses, neurosurgeons, techs, and janitors would come to her room, for whatever reason, she would stop each of them and give them a sticker for their name badges. While initially, she held on to the holographic hearts for herself, eventually, she began giving those out to others with joy.

She loved how everyone would smile when she gave them a sticker. I could see her eyes sparkle a little when a nurse would return on a new day and hold out their nametag showing her that the sticker was still there. She kept that bag in her bed with her the whole stay in the hospital so she could quickly bring a smile to others’ faces. It was a bright spot in her day, multiple times, every day.

When we stop focusing on ourselves and find ways to serve and give to others, we increase our capacity to handle our own challenges. By lifting others, we make our own burdens lighter.

4. Find Things To Look Forward To

Years ago, when we first started taking my little girl to Primary Children’s Hospital to learn more about her seizures, my wife had the great idea to bring a package of Hatchimals so she could hatch a new egg each time she had to do something brave. It worked like a charm.

Last week was her 4th brain surgery. And she was excited. Why? Because she knew she would get to open more Hatchimals. Every time she would have to go under general anesthesia, my wife would remind her that as soon as she came to she could open a new egg. In each egg is a small little toy animal, not much bigger than a dime. But in those moments, it means the world to her.

Because she has shifted her focus beyond difficulty, she isn’t afraid of the hard things in the hospital anymore. She sets her face towards the challenges and sees the reward beyond them. She has found something to look forward to. So should we.

We are all faced with challenging things in our lives. Sometimes, that is just the monotony of everyday living that ends up being so tedious. However, when we purposefully find things, even little things, to look forward to, our resilience and capacity grow.

I hope that helps!