| |
Television
Appearances
| Spring,
2005 |
Big
Breakfast Show - Interviewed by Dave
Kelly and Tara McCool on "How
Does A New Child Affect Your Relationship?" |
| October
21 , 2004 |
Big
Breakfast Show - Interviewed by Dave
Kelly and Tara McCool on "Sex
- How Often is Normal?" |
| August
9, 2004 |
Global
TV Morning Edition - Interviewed by
Angela Kokott on "De-mystifying
Counselling." |
| June
24, 2004 |
Big
Breakfast Show - Interviewed by Tara
McCool on "After the Honeymoon
is Over." |
| June
2, 2004 |
Big
Breakfast Show - Interviewed by Dave
Kelly and Tara McCool on "How
to keep you relationship flame alive." |
| April
15, 2004 |
Big
Breakfast Show - Interviewed by Dave
Kelly and Tara McCool on "How
to bring some sizzle into your marriage." |
| March
1, 2004 |
Jumpstart
Your Marriage - Interviewed by Joanne
Good of the Calgary Herald for the
"Family Matters" column |
| January
2004 |
Interviewed
by Dave Kelly on the Big Breakfast
Show, A-Channel |
| April
2001 |
Interviewed
at home by Barb Mitchell - Global
Breakfast Show |
| March
2000 |
Interviewed
outdoors with her dog Kita by Karen
Owens for Health Watch, CFCN News |
| October
1997 |
Interviewed
by Dave Kelly on the Big Breakfast
Show, A-Channel |
| Spring
1997 |
Interviewed
by Barb Mitchell for the Global Breakfast
Show |
Walking
Key to Emotional Health - Mirror
Overcoming
the Stress of the Season - Calgary Herald
Therapy
On The Move
(detailed article about Val's unique
walk and talk counselling methods)
Calgary Herald, June 02, 2005, Front
page of Real Life Section (2 pages),
by Robin Summerfield
Woman's
Quest Had Happy Ending
(an article
on Val's life path)
Calgary Herald,
Feb. 97, by Susan Ruttan
Jumpstart
Your Marriage
(about Val's marriage workshop)
Calgary
Herald, March 04, by Joanne Good
Secrets
to Saving Your Sanity
(About
Val's Cochrane Ranch presentation)
Cochrane Times, May 04, by Darryl Mills
Articles
By Val
By Miles Durrie
Mirror Editor
Next
time you're complaining that life's
pressures are getting you down, and
someone tells you to go take a hike
- maybe you should.
Valerie
Warner hopes you will. She's the person
behind Walk And Talk Counselling For
Women, and a lifetime of experience
has taught her that going for a walk
can take you down the shortest pathway
to emotional health.
"I've
always thought it was better to be
outside," Warner says. "Two
people walking together outside -
it's a great equalizer.
"Over
the years, I've gotten to know more
people that way than any other."
While
most counselors still deal with clients
the traditional way, sitting in a
chair in an office, Warner feels this
scenario has a number of drawbacks.
Surprisingly,
not the least of these is the opportunity
for eye contact between client and
therapist.
Warner
believes many people are uneasy with
eye contact.
'We
(counselors) are encouraged to make
lots of eye contact, but a lot of
people find that intimidating and
uncomfortable," she says.
Warner,
who holds a master's degree in social
work and has more than a decade's
experience in psychiatry, points to
studies revealing people feel most
at ease when standing shoulder-to-shoulder.
To
come up with her approach to counseling,
she combined equal parts experience,
common sense and rejection of most
"normal" forms of patient-counsellor
interaction.
"Traditional
therapy can be quite boring. I've
had clients come to me after being
dissatisfied with therapists who sat
there and said'How do you feel?' and
'What do you think about that?'"
So
Warner takes her clients outdoors,
and walking side-by-side through University
Heights parkland, helps them to open
up and discover their inner resources
and feelings.
And,
she says, even if nothing is accomplished
on a mental level during a session,
at least she and her client have logged
an hour of healthy activity in the
fresh outdoor air.
Warner's
unconventional approach goes beyond
her therapy-in-motion premise.
She
also feels too much time is often
spent exploring a patient's childhood,
or plumbing the deepest depths and
every nook and cranny of a patient's
emotions, when a practical solution
may be at hand.
"By
the time we analyse what our mother
did or didn't do, our life is going
by."
"We're
just products of our environment.
I don't think we can blame anybody
around us - we have to look around
and say, 'Where do we go from here?'"
For
more information on Walk and Talk
Counselling For Women, call 284-1999.
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The Page
Derek Sankey
For The Calgary Herald
Published in the Calgary Herald on Saturday,
December 7, 2002
It's
the time of year for Christmas cheer,
and for many people that can bring a
lot of unwanted stress as they struggle
to wrap up projects at work and find
those perfect gifts.
"People
are in a state of collapse at the end
and they're left wondering why…and
that's the boom time for therapists,"
says Valerie Warner, a social worker
and therapist who counsels people about
work-related stress.
Warner
says there is a growing trend toward
identifying stress factors and taking
a more spiritual approach to their daily
tasks in life and work.
"An
overall disregard for the need for spirituality
leads to a lack of productivity, sleep
disorders and other health problems,"
says Warner.
She
sees numerous people in her northwest
Calgary office that feel overwhelmed
by the fast pace of the world around
them, especially at Christmas time.
Planning
parties, buying gifts, organizing family
events, putting up decorations and other
countless activities are fun times,
but people often lose sight of the fact
they need to slow down and make time
for themselves.
It's
part of a growing trend, according to
therapists, business consultants and
human resource experts, that reveals
a deeper need for spirituality in the
workplace.
Some
people think of spirituality as a "fluffy,
useless" experience and overlook
the fact many people can incorporate
various aspects of spirituality into
their daily work routines.
By
taking time to reflect and focus on
the important things in life, Warner
says, people are enabled to slow the
pace down and actually accomplish more
than ever.
"The
strive for perfectionism and the perfect
Martha Stewart Christmas…brings
out a competitiveness with neighbours
and family members that is often a ton
of added work," says Warner.
She
takes a different approach to counseling
by taking her clients for a slow, relaxed
walk as they discuss how the incredible
speed of life overcomes them. Christmas
obligations make this time of year especially
busy for Warner.
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A
Diary of Breast Cancer
By
Marjorie K. Olmsted
Forty
years ago, a mastectomy was an awkward
subject that did not come up in conversation.
It was definitely hush-hush
It
has been 36 years since I had a mastectomy.
Back then, breast cancer did not receive
the publicity it gets today - in fact,
it was almost an unmentionable malady.
Gradually, thanks to many prominent
women, movie starts, women's groups
and cancer societies - it has assumed
its place in the light of day. High
time, too.
In 1960 my husband, a member of the
Canadian Army, was transferred to Madison,
Wisconsin. We were posted to the Truax
Air Base.
While we were packing that November,
I discovered a lump in my breast. I
went to an Ottawa doctor, who said that
because I had had three previous benign
breast biopsies it would be all right
to have the lump checked after we had
settled in the States.
Bad advice.
We arrived in Madison on New Year's
Day 1961 with our four children (two
girls and two boys) ranging in age from
five years to 16. We checked into a
motel after a long, tiring winter drive
from Ottawa. It would be about two weeks
before our furniture arrived to fill
the large house we had rented.
Then we started "getting settled"
- organizing furniture, cupboards, groceries,
schools, services and so on - something
we had done many, many times in the
course of army life. More time went
by and I experienced no pain in my breast.
Although early diagnosis and treatment
are crucial, it wasn't until four months
later that I made an appointment with
doctors at Truax. After that, things
moved swiftly. The air base doctor booked
an appointment with a prominent surgeon
in the city. Surgery was scheduled immediately,
although it took three weeks to find
me a bed in the Madison General.
Spring is beautiful in Wisconsin. That
year, a huge crabapple tree on our front
lawn was in full bloom. We had a large
property and garden at the back, with
30 feet or well-established strawberry
plants, blooming shrubs and huge poplar
trees marking off the back or our grounds.
On Mother's Day we had a little "party"
at which my daughters gave me some pale
blue beads and earrings. Very small
details, as is the fact that when I
left the next morning for the Madison
General, I took a branch from the flowering
almond bush at our front door, for moral
support. I hoped I would have a benign
biopsy.
I was not to be home for three weeks.
When I woke up from the anesthetic I
was told that my breast had been removed.
(The test results left no choice.) The
surgeon had also removed all lymph glands
in the area. I remember everything as
though it were yesterday - including
the many visitors who checked up on
my roommate, who had been thrown through
a car window. Because I was a newcomer
to the city, I received few visitors.
This is not the end of my ordeal. One
day my doctor stopped in to tell me
that a day or two later I would be "going
up for more surgery." I thought
he was joking. One week after my first
surgery he performed an ovariectomy
and an appendectomy. (Removing my appendix
had not been a necessity. He merely
said he had removed it "because
it was in the area.") I was relieved,
I told him later, that at least he had
left my tonsils. He had felt, at my
age, that surgery was necessary to curtain
any further hormonal action. Although
I was thrust into menopause at age 44,
I was not allowed to receive any hormones
for the side effects. I have had no
hormones since.
Blood
transfusions and intravenous feedings
were followed by soft foods and then
a diet that included the famous Wisconsin
bratwurst. At the hospital, I began
radiation treatments.
Summertime
in Madison proved most therapeutic.
My family and the garden looked mighty
good after my hospital stay. The long
rows of strawberry plants kept us busy.
Asparagus was great, and we had a bumper
crop of black currants and red ones,
too. Flowers spilled over our pathways
and were a constant delight.
My new neighbours were also fantastic.
In no time I was "the new Canadian
wife who was just out of hospital."
I will never forget their many kindnesses.
During the long weeks of radiation treatments
I found I was really among friends,
despite being so far from home and relative.
In the 1960's breast cancer did not
come up in conversation. I didn't discuss
it except with a few close neighbours
- and with one especially who had recently
undergone breast surgery. I didn't feel
very chatty about it, anyway. It is
an awkward subject - even my own family
avoided direct mention of personal details.
The situation was definitely hush-hush.
At a checkup for months after my mastectomy,
the doctor detected a small lump in
the same area. I had to return to the
hospital. It turned out to be adhesions
from the initial surgery - nothing ending
in "ectomy," thank goodness.
(Contininued)
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"When
I do good I feel good. When I do bad I
feel bad. That's my religion."
Abraham
Lincoln
|
By
Val Warner BA MSW RSW
And
I do mean BIG girls. I'm referring to
the female elephants at the Calgary
Zoo: Maharani, her mom Kamala, and her
aunt Swarna. Each weighing over 10,000
lbs, these lovely ladies are given a
bath every day of the year - and, with
2 scrub brushes in hand, I got to help!
Let me backtrack. As a Mom of 2 wonderful
daughters, now grown up, I've always
put them first. Volunteering for their
school and extracurricular events was
a top priority and since we moved around
a few times while they were growing
up, I realize I've volunteered in Ottawa,
Winnipeg, San Diego, and even Maui -
visiting King Kamehameha Elementary
School to complete a brownie badge.
Now
that my 1st born is an elementary school
teacher herself, I get the double thrill
of being "the teacher's mom"
on field trips. (I overheard one little
girl say, "I was expecting her
to have white hair!"). In Calgary
alone I've spent happy times on many
school trips: seeing and petting baby
animals in Butterfield Acres, learning
calligraphy and how to pick up marbles
with chopsticks at the Chinese Cultural
Centre (added delight - a scrumptious
Chinese meal), biking with kids along
the river pathways, and taking part
in the Calgary Children's Festival where
we learned math through dance.
But
nothing, and I mean nothing, prepared
me for the thrill-of-a-lifetime experience
that awaited me recently at the end
of a week of volunteering for Chevron
Z00 School. Since my daughter and her
teaching partner had 32 kids from grades
4 to 6 on this adventure, they were
divided into study groups based on each
child's first choice - gorillas, meercats,
warthogs, giraffes, and elephants. I
was assigned to be in charge of the
elephant group. Now and then I would
shout out "elephants" to round
them up and if they needed to find me,
they would call out "matriarch,"
the term for the senior female elephant
in a herd. All week long we observed,
wrote about, and drew pictures of elephants,
along with mini safaris to see what
the other groups were learning.
On
our 5th and final day of Zoo School,
all of us were treated to an extraordinary
event - we were to help bathe the three
female elephants. Spike, the male bull
elephant, is separated from the females
for this event because male elephants
are more temperamental. However these
three females are so mellow and good-natured,
thanks to the loving care they receive
from their keepers Bob and Dave, that
The Calgary Zoo is the only one in North
America where members of the public
are sometimes allowed, by special arrangement,
to help with their daily bathing ritual.
Talk about dedication - Bob has worked
with the elephants for over 30 years,
and Dave for over 14 years!
Now
I have to tell you, washing the family
car isn't remotely similar to the reality
of having 2 scrub brushes in hand, and
scrubbing the trunk, back, ears, and
yes, bum of an elephant! Their wet and
shampooed hide feels like nothing else
on earth, other than perhaps the weather-beaten
skin of an old cowpoke with 4-day stubble.
Crocodile Hunter Steven Irwin would
have to concede that his "little
beauties" would lose in a contest
with these gorgeous hunks of femininity.
Even being splashed by killer whales
at Sand Diego Sea World pales in comparison
to the waves produced by Maharani and
Co. when they rinse off all together
in their swimming pool sized bathtub.
Maharani, by the way, is expecting a
baby and is half way through her pregnancy
of 22 months!
Can
volunteering get better than this? I
know this is a hard act to follow, but
I'm counting on my daughter to keep
on inviting me to many more field trips.
Remember this story the next time you
find one of those volunteer sheets in
your child's backpack - and sign up!
For
a print ready version of Bathing The
Big Girls click here
Return To The Top Of
The Page
By
Val Warner BA MSW RSW
When
I graduated with my Masters Degree and
found my first job in an Ottawa psychiatric
clinic, I admit I was terrified. I was
part of a 'team' approach - the others
being a psychiatrist, family physician,
psychologist, and a nurse. It was bad
enough that I felt intimidated by the
experience, age, and expertise surrounding
me. What made it worse was that I was
convinced that every term bandied about
- psychotic, neurotic, paranoid, inadequate,
etc. etc. - referred to me, too! I acted
confident on the outside, but inside
I was scared someone would see through
my acting and discover the insecure
little girl who lurked below the surface.
As
time passed, and after getting to know
my colleagues better, it slowly dawned
on me that all of us - male or female,
young or old - were hiding our true
selves behind a mature 'know it all'
façade. What was hidden? The
longing to be liked and understood for
who we really were, with our imperfections
and frailties. In fact, this is the
very essence of counseling - helping
people to like themselves with their
own unique flaws. Only then can we be
more accepting of others and their idiosyncrasies.
Good
counselors see themselves as equal,
not superior, to those who come to them
for guidance. In my own case it wasn't
until I had counseling myself, provided
by our clinic director Dr. Erwin Koranyi,
that I started making headway in the
area of self-acceptance. Unless we face,
and overcome, similar struggles it is
hard to help others in difficulty.
Parenting
provided an amazing learning experience.
Until I had my first child I thought
it would 'come naturally'. My first
hour home with my brand new daughter
convinced me it wasn't going to be se
easy, and by the time she was 2 years
old I was desperately in need of a good
parenting course. Not only did I enroll
in one, I went on to teach the course
in the following years, giving validity
to the old expression "you teach
what you want to learn." I laugh
(and shudder) at some of the advice
I gave to parents before I had kids
of my own and found out it is the best,
and definitely the hardest, job in the
world!
Historically
our society has preached independence
and self-reliance when it comes to family
problems, however we can all benefit
at times from the help of others. Dentists
need dental work themselves just like
everyone else, but the right one can
still fix your teeth. The same holds
true for counselors. Good ones are honest
and will admit they never have their
lives under perfect control. No one
does. But a counsellor may, through
his/her own personal growth and professional
development, be able to help you find
more fulfillment in your life by sharing
some of their insights.
For
a print ready version of Demystifying
Counselling click
here
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The Page
For
a print ready version of Counselling!
Are You Crazy? click
here
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Nor
will I forget Dr. Fred Joachim, to whom
I own my good fortune in recover. It was
a stroke of luck that I was put into his
care - he led my life from darkness into
sunshine. I later heard him described
as one of Madison's finest surgeons. We
became "bosom pals" during my
frequent checkups. He told me to treat
myself to some new clothes, and grinned
when I said I would by a "single-breasted
suit." He prescribed golf games,
in addition to a list of recommended exercises.
No "slow boat to China" for
convalescing. He also suggested I find
a new interest or hobby.
The word "prosthesis" also came
up - and the need to fill the other half
of my bra. At no time during our discussion
did my doctor hint about an "implant."
No doubt, in 1961 such things had not
been heard of - a blessing in disguise.
Discussing the assortment of "stuffings"
I used is like a Highlander revealing
what he wears beneath his kilt. They were
makeshift, but did the trick. To go home
from the hospital, I used a small bundle
of soft tissues. Not long after, I managed
to get a plastic breast form that was
filled with air. I was forced to carry
a straw, just in case the wind went out
of my sails, so to speak.
The air-filled breast form was useful,
in more ways than one. On hot afternoons,
I had to accompany my youngest son to
the nearby beach. I was forced to wear
a bathing suit so I could join him in
the water. With a few well-placed safety
pins in the cotton covering of the air
form, I wiggled into my bathing suit and
faced the world. Wonder of wonders, I
found I could float better than ever before.
An extra bonus: The cool water and sunshine
helped me immeasurably.
Later I was fitted with a heavy glubby
shaped fabric pouch. It was rumoured to
be filled with birdseed, but this was
never proven. This was soon replaced by
a nicely shaped rubber product, which
was very hot in summer.
Over the years, there have been great
improvements in the breast prosthesis.
Fittings may be had a friendly little
shops, listed in the Yellow Pages. I have
found the forms to be most comfortable
when worn with a proper-fitting bra -
or a special bathing suit if need be.
During
my ordeal, I struggled with very lonely,
very sad days. My doctor had warned me
about depression, thank God. Hot flashes
mingled with warm summer breezes, day
and night. By the time the dark gloomy
days of November arrived, I found it helped
to turn on extra lamps and keep music
playing on the radio. A few daytime TV
programs like I Love Lucy and The Bob
Cummings Show helped immeasurably. Evenings
at the movies also provided a great escape,
especially during radiation treatments.
Phone calls and letters to relative in
Canada helped a lot. Freelance writing
had been my hobby, now I found it too
solitary and lonely an occupation. I no
longer enjoyed spending time with my portable
typewriter. By a wonderful quirk of fate,
an American wife at the air base invited
me to evening art classes. A terrific
art teacher soon had us enthralled, and
it proved to be great therapy.
I remember looking out the kitchen window
one winter day after the children had
gone to school. As I wondered which shade
of blue would be best for the shadows
on the snow, some of my own shadows began
to disappear. I made new friends in my
new world of pastels, inks, oils and acrylics
- and later, water-colours. I was one
of the first in the class to sign up for
the next semester.
I spent many happy and productive hours
painting, and it continues to be a source
of delight. Gradually I resumed writing,
my first love. I tried children's stories,
poetry, women's articles, travel pieces
(from army postings) and it was fun to
see them published. Humour and poetry
became my favourites, and as a result
I did considerable public speaking and
tried my hand at standup comedy. At no
time did I ever feel self- conscious about
my breast. I considered myself extremely
lucky. Contrary to current thinking, I
did not feel that breasts and self-esteem
were linked.
No long ago it was announced on TV that
a "harmless" oil was being used
in breast implants. Within a few days
I heard that a number or women had volunteered
for this new procedure. I wish them well.
"Structural enhancement" is
not for me. It puzzles my why a woman
who has had a mastectomy would consider
having an implant for a breast or any
part thereof. I have never seen a woman
who has had this type of surgery - nor
do I know such a woman. Apart from vanity,
who would want one? Quit while you're
ahead, I say, health should be the only
consideration.
I must admit that being in a sauna or
shower room with other women is not my
best effort. Towels come in an assortment
of gorgeous colours, and I can use one
to advantage. Fortunately I am rarely
in these places, nor am I the type to
enter a wet T-shirt contests.
Needless to say I had many, many checkups
before we left Wisconsin in the summer
of 1963. It had been our last posting
away from Canada after many army assignments
since the beginning of the Second World
War. It was not easy for my family to
have an invalid mother, during their formative
years. I was not always able to give them
support or guidance. We all missed family
and relatives and old friends, but Madison
did become a home away from home.
I like to think the breast I lost helped
medical researchers at the University
of Wisconsin in their long, long search
to end what is a scourge to women everywhere.
Many wonderful women have been lost through
breast cancer to their families, to their
friends and to the world - and to me personally.
This article is for them.
For
a print ready version of A Diary of Breast
Cancerclick
here
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