A SENSE OF HOPE
Shave, shower, keep a routine and remember that this too shall pass: advice from therapists
On a flinty path with forested mountains looming all around, Carroll Cradock’s grandmother poses for the camera — with a hat like a layered cake on her head and a parasol in one hand.
Cradock, a West Loop psychologist, has examined the faded black-and-white photograph more closely in recent weeks, realizing it was taken in 1919 — just months after the end of the Spanish Flu outbreak.
“Not that many months after the epidemic hit St. Louis, which is where I grew up, … ordinary people were taking vacations. Those photographs convey a sense of hope,” Cradock said.
She’s been showing that snapshot and others from her family’s Colorado trip to clients struggling with coronavirus fears. It’s unconventional therapy for unconventional times.
All across the Chicago area, therapists are trying to calm clients — new and old — while dealing with their own anxieties.
“I do therapy every week,” said Jason LaHood, a downtown psychologist. “It’s a necessity as a therapist to be in therapy, especially during these kinds of times, because it’s my first pandemic and shelter in place as well.”
Like many others in his field, LaHood has had to ask his clients to swap the therapist’s couch of pop-culture fame for a sofa or a favorite armchair at home — a reality that presents both advantages and challenges.
Not all clients appreciate the window into their home that FaceTime or WhatsApp offers. So some therapists may also use just a phone instead.
“We’re not actually laying hands on patients, but [we’re missing] the visual cues of being able to see body language and facial expressions,” said Wendy Charness, a psychologist who has practices downtown and in Skokie “It’s harder to hide that emotion in person.”
For those who are comfortable with video, it can feel like a doctor paying a visit.
“You can actually see what their home is like and help them identify places and activities that can help them during this time,” Cradock said.
Said psychologist Nancy Curotto, with practices downtown and in Lake View: “My camera picks up on subtleties. It’s a high-resolution camera. So I can see when someone’s skin is turning red, when they are about to start crying.”
Demand has been strong, but not overwhelming, said each of the four psychologists the Chicago-Sun Times spoke to. And patients’ concerns run the gamut: from fears about succumbing to the virus to learning to cope while isolated in a one-bedroom apartment.
Surprisingly, perhaps, some patients with the most stubborn mental afflictions — such as post-traumatic stress disorder — are doing the best.
“There are people out there … who are always worrying about the impending doom. So when the impending doom finally happens and everybody wakes up, it’s liberating,” LaHood said.
Many therapists are giving their clients similar advice: Keep a daily routine, as difficult as that may be holed up at home. Avoid slouching around the house unshaven and in pajamas. Shower.
But don’t overdo it.
“Take it easy on yourself and others, give yourself a break,” LaHood said. “If you’re binge watching favorite shows, it’s fine. You don’t have to binge watch forever. … You’re going to look back on this a year from now and wish you’d maybe taken more of that downtime to get perspective rather than wallow in despair.”
And remember, Cradock said, that others before you have dealt with seemingly hopeless situations. Cradock recalled the Chicago blizzard of 1979, a massive storm that paralyzed the city and doomed then-Mayor Michael Bilandic’s aspiration to serve a third term.
The heavy snowfall that winter “went on for months. No one knew when it was going to end, lots of things were closed, everybody was at home, … but we didn’t have cellphones. So we couldn’t check on the safety of someone who was late getting home,” Cradock said. “Now we have the opportunity to connect with people we love and care about, as well as get work done.”
And then, of course, there was the 1918 flu pandemic, to which the coronavirus is often compared.
“There’s practically nothing in the media of the fact that it did end,” Cradock said. “People who were as smart as we are but didn’t have the resources we have survived and were able to just go on a regular vacation. It’s easy to think no one really knew what to do. In fact, people did know what to do.”
“NOT THAT MANY MONTHS AFTER THE EPIDEMIC HIT ST. LOUIS, WHICH IS WHERE I GREW UP … ORDINARY PEOPLE WERE TAKING VACATIONS.” CARROLL CRADOCK, West Loop psychologist