Opinion : Living with ADD: Attention Deficit Delight

I was sitting in a waiting room a while ago when I found proof that, yes, indeed, there is such a thing as a stupid question.

In fact, I read many stupid questions that were part of a magazine advertisement for a pill to treat a common condition.

Dumb Question 1:Are there times when you’re not “focused” during the day?

Dumb Question 2: Do you find it difficult to stay organized at work or home?

Dumb Question 3:Are you often not getting as much finished as you feel you should?

Dumb Question 4:Are you frequently looking for things that you misplaced?

Dumb Question 5:Is it hard to sit still during meeting or events?

Dumb Question 6:Do you frequently feel restless during the day?

Dumb Question 7: Do you say things too quickly, or interrupt conversations or answer before the other person finishes speaking?

The advertisement went on to say that if you answered “yes” to any of those questions, then you may have a “disorder;” you may need to take a pill.

I answered "Yes" to them all.

But no: I am not taking any pills.

And I won’t. They can’t make me.

The questions above — according to the “experts” and pill-makers, are “symptoms of attention deficit hyperactive disorder, or ADHD.”

AD (I omit the "H" because the main problem in our society is hypo-activity -- not enough it -- and the “D” because I refuse to call the personality trait which I share with so many people a “disorder”) is most commonly diagnosed in children, especially young boys.

Now, however, pharmaceutical companies are also marketing its AD drugs for adults.

Well, many of us who answered yes to those questions above really don’t care that much about being “focused” or sitting through meetings. In fact, we prefer to not sit through them, especially if we have to pay attention to someone with more words than wisdom proving with every one his (or her; "The View" is on in the other room right now) how little wisdom he (or she; again 'The View") has.

Not being able to focus on nonsense like that is a gift, not a disorder. Why would anyone want to take away such a precious gift? And if any of those people who are able to sit still through those kind of meetings were to be honest, they would admit that they wish they could fail to focus on such matters. And almost all of you have been in a meeting or some other place where someone was babbling nonsensically nonstop and you wished someone would have the courage to interrupt them.

Only people with AD can rise to such occasions, and other occasions, as well.

“Dean,” asked someone in the my office one day. “How do you spell chaotic?”

Easy, I said, K-odd-ic.

Only a person with my gift of not being able to focus would be able to answer a question that way.

Yes, I will admit that it does get a little frustrating when I walk to another room in the house, only to realize that I have forgotten why I went there. And I waste more time than most other people looking for things I have misplaced.

Sure, it’s not a perfect personality trait, and sometimes, it gets on people’s nerves when they discover I am not paying.. .. oh what is that thing called I am supposed to pay... give me a second.. oh, yes, attention! It gets on people’s nerves when they see I am not paying attention.

(At least that’s what people tell me later; I apparently was not paying enough attention at that moment to tell that someone was irked at my lack of paying attention.)

But spending a few minutes a day looking for my keys or my shoes is a small price to pay for the ability to sit across the table from a mindless babbler, look them in the eye and nod my head while totally ignoring every syllable they say.

Now, the people who want me to pay attention to them want to give me a pill.

Not so fast.

Even if I wanted to be free of my “disorder” — and those of you who share my condition may have forgotten this far into my column that I most certainly do not — I would very much prefer this disorder to the potential side effects of its “cure.”

I was able to pay attention to that advertisement long enough to read the “common side effects” to one of the pills for AD: Upper belly pain, dizziness, irritability, nausea, weight loss, decreased appetite, dry mouth, trouble sleeping and vomiting. Also, that pill can also “affect your ability to drive or do other dangerous activities?”

How in the world could anyone “focus” or “sit still during meetings” — assuming that they arrived safely while taking a medicine that can affect driving — while suffering any of those horrible symptoms?

My brief research of AD tells me that “As they mature, adolescents and adults with ADHD are likely to develop coping mechanisms to compensate for their impairment.”

Nonsense. Those of us with AD are getting along just fine. It’s the rest of the population who has to learn how to compensate so they can cope with sitting through meetings and all of the other boring, mind-killing tediousness that those of us with AD have the gift of ignoring.

Just one more thing before you go

Beth:

One secret to being heard is to have the ability to see what everyone else sees in a way nobody else can see it, and then to be able to describe what you see and they don’t.

—Dad