Transitions!

Day 2 is about changes: city suburbs to countryside, level ground to hills, and our excitement about our Camino experience to oh-my-god-what-do-we-think-we-are-doing? We leave our first comfortable B&B at 7h00 sharp. The air is autumn cool, the breeze refreshing, the sky deep blue, and the traffic quite Monday-like as parents rush to work and bambinos are dropped off at school.

The ugliness of the Roman suburbs abruptly changes to a bucolic setting. Cows! What a relief to leave behind trash, traffic, and noise. A mid-morning cafelatte e cornetti further soothe our spirits.

Google-map deprived (no wifi), we guess at unmarked roads, miss turns, and add several kilometers to an already long day. Ouch! The caffeine wears off.

Monterotondo is well hidden in the curvy landscape with many ups and down obscuring the way. Grazing cows and sheep pay little attention to our mileage distress. When we do finally find “Round Mountain” by 2:00, no one speaks English or French–indeed “L’Italia Profunda!”–so we resort to the Marcel Marceau School of Pantomime and the kindness of many strangers to find our “Vacation Rental,” the “Supermacato,” and hot showers for achy legs, hips, knees, and feet (and many other parts). We definitely aren’t yesterday’s Denis & Judy. Yes, we’ve changed and reality has entered into the equation. Stay tuned!

Editor’s note: Judy says her version of today’s walk would have been shorter. Long, hot, tiring: the pits. 9/21/15

Arrivederci, Roma!

We had a grand send off from St. Onofrio church from our generous host Jim Puglisi and dear Westtown friends Deanna and Eric Mayer who motorcycled over at 7 a.m to see us off. The cool morning air was a welcome change from the past three days of heat and humidity–perfect for the first leg along the Tiber River. Lots of Italians out jogging or biking on the path we followed northward out of the city. Views of the Basilica quickly gave way to scraggly outskirts where weeds are winning in the extensive public parks we passed.

We were a bit chagrined to see so many cafes closed on Sunday and wondered where we would find our first breakfast stop, but two hours into the walk, we found a perfect corner cafe where two elderly Italian women were enjoying a coffee with a backdrop of classic Italian accordion music. They were intrigued about our walk, even though they had no English and we had no Italian, but they just chatted away to us anyway. We got the positive message! After our cafe lattes and cornetti, we were in high spirits.

When we discovered tiles inscribed with famous quotations (including “Carpe Diem”) in the bathroom, we knew we had landed in the right place. We marveled at how quickly Italians ordered and kicked back their expressos, then left the cafe, while we lingered, resting.

Once we arrived in Monte Sacro at 11 a.m., we discovered our B&B reservation somehow hadn’t survived, but the charming owner, Stefano, had another spot for us elsewhere and drove us to the door — a first class upgrade if there ever was one!

Day one behind us, 13 more ahead. 09/20/15

A New Source of Hope for those Affected by BDD

“Your son Nathaniel might have BDD,” Dr. L.K. suggests to my wife Judy and me.

“What’s BBD?” we ask, mixing the letters up.

“BDD—Body Dysmorphic Disorder,” she repeats.

We had already journeyed as a family for six years with our son as he battled unexplained OCD-like symptoms, and now he was obsessed with imaginary markings on his face, concerns about his skin and hair, stuck in the bathroom mirror for hours each day. His sister Carrie was mystified by his compulsion to copy her. Other professionals had provided various labels for his condition, which began when he was 11 years old, but not this one. Rushing to the Internet, we did locate an invaluable book, The Broken Mirror by Katharine Phillips, but not much else. Thus began our family’s journey of awareness about BDD.

Jump forward. Last Friday, The IOCDF sent me the link to the new BDD website a group of us has been working on together prior to its launch. Looking at the site in its final form, my eyes welled up as I took in the avalanche of information about BDD: definitions, personal testimonies, access to support groups, lists of treatment providers by geographic area, articles about possible medications, and the latest neurological research into the disorder. In short, a one-stop, instantly available resource for professionals, sufferers, their families and friends. How Judy, Carrie, and I would have relished this website years ago, as would Nathaniel’s friends, Carl, Dan, Justin, Nate, and our extended families and friends. We would have referred everyone we knew to the site. And what benefit might Nathaniel have had from learning about others who were struggling with BDD? Would he have felt less alone?

Since Nathaniel’s death in 2011, I have walked 4,400 miles to make sense of the senseless—to bring forth some good from the undeserved suffering that Nathaniel endured for 13 years with this invisible, poorly understood, and virtually unknown disorder. My formal pilgrimages from Philadelphia to Boston and then from PA to Washington, DC were to raise awareness about BDD. I walked many more miles locally to ground my grief for the loss of a dear son. “Got to get the word out!” has been my mantra, whether on a formal walk or in training. “Got to tell Nathaniel’s story over and over again,” so that others can find help. And now they can.

The website is a dream fulfilled for many of us.

The BDD SIG (Body Dysmorphic Disorder Special Interest Group)—a group of doctors, researchers, therapists, sufferers, experts in the field, my family and I—has been planning the site for two years. We have met at annual conferences, authored pieces, inventoried other websites, and discussed what would work best for the IOCDF site. We share a passion to get the word out about BDD to those in search of it, and since the disorder strikes 1 to 2% of the population, the need is enormous. With up-to-date materials for professionals, families, and sufferers, the website gives BDD greater recognition and provides hope that understanding of the disorder and treatment options are progressing. Our work is not over, but we have taken a big leap forward.

The French have an expression appropriate for this occasion: “Chapeau!” best translated into English as “Hats off!” Chapeau to members of the BDD SIG for authoring articles and overseeing the content, to the IOCD Foundation, Jeff Syzmanski, and Carly Bourne, for pulling it all together, and to the web creators for designing the site.

The last chapeau goes to my son, Nathaniel, whose story will continue to touch people he never met, because now, when a counselor says, “Your child may have BDD,” families won’t have to look far for all the information they need.

Visit the new site, www.helpforBDD.org, here.

Circles and Intersections

My peregrinations of the past three years consisted mostly of meandering trajectories from home to pre-planned destinations. As the car drives, a trip to Boston is 300 miles, but mine on foot covered 552 (I avoided I-95!). Last Saturday’s 1,000,000 Steps 4 OCD Awareness Walk in Jamaica Pond was a powerful event both in walking in circles and in experiencing intersections. Let me explain.

After registration, introductions, and short speeches, over 320 walkers strolled twice around Jamaica Pond, a 3 kilometers/1.5 mile route. That adds up to 6,000 steps per person, or over half a million steps collectively. Although I’m not used to walking in circles, I certainly enjoyed not having to rely on GPS or watch out for aggressive drivers. With a crowd of walkers, I yielded to the collective energy of the group, the walk happened all by itself, and we finished where we began.

Saturday’s walk provided unexpected intersections, rich in conversations with fellow walkers that straight walks often miss out on with their preoccupations with the route and the final destinations. And a solo pilgrimage is, well, mostly solo – with walking companions only occasionally. But on Saturday, I connected with Jen, Sally, Gary, Eric, Terri, Cameron, Jessica, Michael, Judy, Louise, Jennifer, Maria, Bob, Thalia, Sabine, Carrie, Chris, Neena, and so many others. Some encounters were preplanned; others just happened spontaneously. In contrast to the lonely reflective experiences of my Spain, Boston and Washington walks, during this walk, the miles flew by.

At this time in my life, circles and intersections are what I most need and want. By walking in circles, the lives of others can intersect with mine, and from that communion, we can move forward recharged. Thanks to the IOCDF, annual walks in Boston and Sacramento are allowing participants to build an intentional OCD community, to find hope in each other’s journeys, and to share personal stories. Without them, moving forward alone becomes harder and steps become heavier. I am so grateful that “Walking with Nathaniel” has morphed into this powerful annual event.