Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 13, 2021
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
In Karen's Honor
Today is my sister Karen’s yahrzeit - the anniversary of the day she died. Karen died in 2012, a week before her 65th birthday. In 2001 Karen spent a month in the Mayo Clinic fighting for her life. She survived ARDS (Adult Respiratory Distress Syndrome). At the time we knew how high the mortality rate for ARDS was and how incredible her recovery was. But in 2012, the cumulative damage to her lungs, coupled with a new illness, brought about her death in a matter of days. Along with many family members, I was blessed to be with her as she died. I sat alone with her, my hand on her arm, until the funeral home came for her body.
COVID-19 has been compared to ARDS. Most comparisons explain all the ways COVID-19 is significantly more complex and dramatically worse than ARDS.
I’m not going to discuss all the challenges individuals, families, communities, schools, students, teachers and small businesses are facing. I’m not going to discuss the harrowing, exhausting, dangerous experiences of healthcare workers. I’m not going to discuss all the risks being faced by essential frontline workers - from police officers to letter carriers to grocery store staff.
I am going to say this: This is not forever. Be patient. Remember the common good. Wear your mask. Wash your hands. Make sure you and everyone you know is registered to vote. Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other. And stay the fuck home.
I love you Karen. I miss you.
Sunday, March 15, 2020
Rail Trail Therapy
We took a walk on the Rail Trail this afternoon. We were not the only ones with that idea. It was crowded - well, for that particular section it felt crowded. Sometimes, when we’re walking and the only ones there, I ask Chuck if he phoned ahead to reserve it just for us. Today, not so much. As clouds moved in and out in front of the sun, we saw solo walkers, runners and bicyclists; couples, and young families with children and dogs, strollers and tricycles. We all exchanged greetings as we passed each other. A lot of “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” because it really was.
For that hour we all kept to our family groups. We all breathed deeply of the fresh late winter / nearly spring air. We let our legs carry us, almost on autopilot, as we tried to let the news headlines recede for a little while.
Respite is important. Moving, breathing, listening to our own breath, feeling the wind on our faces - all of it is restorative.
So is social connection. We currently have social isolation as the headline. But we can still connect. Phone calls, emails, texts, Facetime, Skype, letters, cards, Twitter, Instagram, Facebook… so many ways to reach out and stay in touch.
Rabbis and Cantors are streaming services in empty sanctuaries, but that livestream is illuminating a living room, a kitchen, a studio apartment, as well as the congregants there joining in prayers and singing the songs. We are finding new ways to connect.
Keep breathing. Keep focusing on the greater good. Pick up the book or the knitting or the model ship or the stack of crossword puzzles. Haul out the Scrabble and Monopoly boards. Be present. When the worry rises up, let it. Sit with it for a moment and then use a lifeline to phone a friend. In this challenging time, those calls are unlimited.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
The Tiniest Word
“A”
Indefinite Article
Used before nouns and noun phrases that denote a single but unspecified person or thing: a region; a person...
a cancer...
We were driving along, slurping slushy Del’s Frozen Lemonades and relishing the unique-to-Rhode-Island taste when his cell phone rang. The number displayed didn’t look familiar. He was about to ignore it. Then I asked: “What if it’s Lahey Clinic?”
But that didn’t make sense because they told us the biopsy results could take 7-10 days and here it was, little more than 48 hours later.
I pulled into the parking lot of the Garden City Whole Foods as he answered the phone.
Yes, it was Lahey. More precisely it was Dr. M. She is young and smart and skilled in her speciality and in surgery. She is a natural teacher and she has a wonderful bedside manner.
He pressed speaker on his cell phone.
“Hi it’s Dr. M”
She told us everything that mattered, in a way that showed he mattered to her.
After he hung up I dictated into my cell phone everything I could remember of what Dr. M had said.
The most important things I remembered were “this is the best possible type of cancer under the best possible circumstances” and “don’t panic”.
I broke the notes up into manageable blocks and texted it to his sister who is also an MD. His sister is such a fine doctor that she could have mentored Dr. M.
The sun was shining brightly even as it dipped lower in the sky. We sat in the parking lot for several minutes. We heard a siren and then more sirens. Cars zipped by; carriages wheeled and clanked; doors slammed shut.
We continued to drive home. We talked, were quiet, choked up, laughed, ran a couple of errands, talked and laughed some more.
At one point he said: “I have cancer.”
It suddenly struck me at a deep, intuitive level and I replied: “You have A cancer.”
Both of us are old enough to remember the way cancer used to be written caps-lock on people’s hearts; screamed out in people’s minds, but it was spoken of aloud only in hushed, fearful tones.
And we both have lived long enough to have family members and friends die of cancer. One friend died Monday; one family member died in May.
We also have friends and loved ones who have cancer written on their medical charts, but for whom it has receded. Yes, receded. I’m not talking about remission or cures or watchful waiting. I mean that a cancer diagnosis and treatment is something that they went through. They have certain ongoing responsibilities. But the experience has taken its place among all their other life experiences.
“You have A cancer.”
That tiny word; that perfectly named indefinite article of “A”, is helping to restore perspective; transform our understanding of this cancer and make it into something manageable.
===
I wrote this in August 2015.
Today is Chuck's first day of 42 radiation treatments.
As we have told our family and friends, all will be well.
That message was echoed by all of his doctors.
Yes, all will definitely be well...
Indefinite Article
Used before nouns and noun phrases that denote a single but unspecified person or thing: a region; a person...
a cancer...
We were driving along, slurping slushy Del’s Frozen Lemonades and relishing the unique-to-Rhode-Island taste when his cell phone rang. The number displayed didn’t look familiar. He was about to ignore it. Then I asked: “What if it’s Lahey Clinic?”
But that didn’t make sense because they told us the biopsy results could take 7-10 days and here it was, little more than 48 hours later.
I pulled into the parking lot of the Garden City Whole Foods as he answered the phone.
Yes, it was Lahey. More precisely it was Dr. M. She is young and smart and skilled in her speciality and in surgery. She is a natural teacher and she has a wonderful bedside manner.
He pressed speaker on his cell phone.
“Hi it’s Dr. M”
She told us everything that mattered, in a way that showed he mattered to her.
After he hung up I dictated into my cell phone everything I could remember of what Dr. M had said.
The most important things I remembered were “this is the best possible type of cancer under the best possible circumstances” and “don’t panic”.
I broke the notes up into manageable blocks and texted it to his sister who is also an MD. His sister is such a fine doctor that she could have mentored Dr. M.
The sun was shining brightly even as it dipped lower in the sky. We sat in the parking lot for several minutes. We heard a siren and then more sirens. Cars zipped by; carriages wheeled and clanked; doors slammed shut.
We continued to drive home. We talked, were quiet, choked up, laughed, ran a couple of errands, talked and laughed some more.
At one point he said: “I have cancer.”
It suddenly struck me at a deep, intuitive level and I replied: “You have A cancer.”
Both of us are old enough to remember the way cancer used to be written caps-lock on people’s hearts; screamed out in people’s minds, but it was spoken of aloud only in hushed, fearful tones.
And we both have lived long enough to have family members and friends die of cancer. One friend died Monday; one family member died in May.
We also have friends and loved ones who have cancer written on their medical charts, but for whom it has receded. Yes, receded. I’m not talking about remission or cures or watchful waiting. I mean that a cancer diagnosis and treatment is something that they went through. They have certain ongoing responsibilities. But the experience has taken its place among all their other life experiences.
“You have A cancer.”
That tiny word; that perfectly named indefinite article of “A”, is helping to restore perspective; transform our understanding of this cancer and make it into something manageable.
===
I wrote this in August 2015.
Today is Chuck's first day of 42 radiation treatments.
As we have told our family and friends, all will be well.
That message was echoed by all of his doctors.
Yes, all will definitely be well...
Thursday, August 21, 2014
ALS, Ice and Israel
With all the discussion about Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS) and the Ice Bucket Challenge, I wanted to share some encouraging news. In 2011, BrainStorm Cell Therapeutics of Israel and Hadassah Hospital in Israel treated a patient who had ALS with a new autologous stem cell technology called Nurown. The 75 year old patient, Rabbi Refael Shmulevitz, improved!
As of April 2014, a US Patent was granted and, pending FDA approval, Brainstorm plans to hold Phase II clinical trials at Massachusetts General Hospital, the University of Massachusetts Memorial Hospital and the Mayo Clinic. It's possible that this type of treatment could also help folks with Parkinson's and Multiple Sclerosis. So whether you are dumping ice water on your head or writing a check, progress is being made!
As of April 2014, a US Patent was granted and, pending FDA approval, Brainstorm plans to hold Phase II clinical trials at Massachusetts General Hospital, the University of Massachusetts Memorial Hospital and the Mayo Clinic. It's possible that this type of treatment could also help folks with Parkinson's and Multiple Sclerosis. So whether you are dumping ice water on your head or writing a check, progress is being made!
Monday, August 11, 2014
"Stay"
“On Suicide” was written by Jennifer Michael Hecht and posted on January 11, 2010.
I refer to it simply as “Stay”.
It is one of the most poignant, powerful, passionate and compassionate messages I have ever read against suicide. She wrote it after the suicides of two friends.
Because Robin Williams committed suicide within the last 24 hours, I felt compelled to post excerpts from Ms. Hecht’s post here:
“So I want to say this, and forgive me the strangeness of it. Don’t kill yourself. Life has always been almost too hard to bear, for a lot of the people, a lot of the time. It’s awful. But it isn’t too hard to bear, it’s only almost too hard to bear.”
“...if you are even a tiny bit staying alive for the sake of the community, as a favor to the rest of us, I need to make it clear to you that we are grateful that you stay. I am grateful that you stay alive.”
“The truth is I want you to live for your sake, not for ours. But the injunction is true and real. Anyway, some part of you doesn’t want to end it all, and I’m talking to her or him, to that part of you. I’m throwing you a rope, you don’t have to explain it to the monster in you, just tell the monster it can do whatever it wants, but not that. Later we’ll get rid of the monster, for now just hang on to the rope.”
I want very much to publish Ms. Hecht’s full article, but I do not own the rights. So I urge you to go to her original post and read it in its entirety. “On Suicide”
Then print it out and hang onto it. You may never need to read it again yourself. But if you ever do or if you want to give a copy to a friend, you will be relieved you have it to hand.
Thank you Jennifer Michael Hecht. We are so grateful you have stayed and that you wrote this...
I refer to it simply as “Stay”.
It is one of the most poignant, powerful, passionate and compassionate messages I have ever read against suicide. She wrote it after the suicides of two friends.
Because Robin Williams committed suicide within the last 24 hours, I felt compelled to post excerpts from Ms. Hecht’s post here:
“So I want to say this, and forgive me the strangeness of it. Don’t kill yourself. Life has always been almost too hard to bear, for a lot of the people, a lot of the time. It’s awful. But it isn’t too hard to bear, it’s only almost too hard to bear.”
“...if you are even a tiny bit staying alive for the sake of the community, as a favor to the rest of us, I need to make it clear to you that we are grateful that you stay. I am grateful that you stay alive.”
“The truth is I want you to live for your sake, not for ours. But the injunction is true and real. Anyway, some part of you doesn’t want to end it all, and I’m talking to her or him, to that part of you. I’m throwing you a rope, you don’t have to explain it to the monster in you, just tell the monster it can do whatever it wants, but not that. Later we’ll get rid of the monster, for now just hang on to the rope.”
I want very much to publish Ms. Hecht’s full article, but I do not own the rights. So I urge you to go to her original post and read it in its entirety. “On Suicide”
Then print it out and hang onto it. You may never need to read it again yourself. But if you ever do or if you want to give a copy to a friend, you will be relieved you have it to hand.
Thank you Jennifer Michael Hecht. We are so grateful you have stayed and that you wrote this...
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Flu Vax
‘Tis the season for flu shots - at least in the Northern Hemisphere. Chuck’s Doc told him that cases have already been reported in California. He recommended this year we get our flu shots sooner rather than later. We did that on Saturday. It was at a “Flu Clinic” in our doctors’ offices. The situation was not handled all that well. Turns out, we had some options, which we weren’t expecting.
First off, the Flu.gov website is still statically operational. But thanks to the Republicans in Congress, for the foreseeable future, it cannot be updated. That said, it really does have a wealth of useful information. Likewise, the CDC site has a great deal of information. But it too is only statically available.
Here are some of the choices you may face when you go for your flu vaccine:
Trivalent, Standard Dose, Intramuscular
Trivalent, Standard Dose, Intradermal
Trivalent, High Dose, Intramuscular
Quadrivalent, Standard Dose, Intramuscular
Quadrivalent, Standard Dose, Intranasal
Honestly, there may be even more options than I have listed here. But I wanted to mention these so that you have the opportunity to do a little research and be better prepared than we were when we attended the Flu Clinic. It’s also quite possible that where you go may have just one variety available.
Because there are a great many age and health related recommendations for who should get which vaccine, please visit the Flu.gov and CDC websites to learn more.
Bottom line: Everyone 6 months of age and older, who is eligible, should get some one of the flu vaccines.
First off, the Flu.gov website is still statically operational. But thanks to the Republicans in Congress, for the foreseeable future, it cannot be updated. That said, it really does have a wealth of useful information. Likewise, the CDC site has a great deal of information. But it too is only statically available.
Here are some of the choices you may face when you go for your flu vaccine:
Trivalent, Standard Dose, Intramuscular
Trivalent, Standard Dose, Intradermal
Trivalent, High Dose, Intramuscular
Quadrivalent, Standard Dose, Intramuscular
Quadrivalent, Standard Dose, Intranasal
Honestly, there may be even more options than I have listed here. But I wanted to mention these so that you have the opportunity to do a little research and be better prepared than we were when we attended the Flu Clinic. It’s also quite possible that where you go may have just one variety available.
Because there are a great many age and health related recommendations for who should get which vaccine, please visit the Flu.gov and CDC websites to learn more.
Bottom line: Everyone 6 months of age and older, who is eligible, should get some one of the flu vaccines.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
At Least Three Women, At Least One Child
We have all heard about it. We have all rejoiced because three women were found alive after disappearing years ago. But as the days tick by, reporters continue to swarm the neighborhood in Cleveland and the details flood the airwaves, I am growing increasingly concerned.
The level of detail being released by authorities leaves me profoundly uncomfortable. What happened to these three women in Cleveland, Ohio was horrific. I can only begin to imagine their pain - physical and emotional. At what point is the “public’s right to know” superseded by the needs and rights of these three women - and one child - to begin to recover and heal?
I have experienced a few painful and challenging situations in my life. To be clear, they are absolutely as nothing compared to what these women endured. But I only revealed what happened to me to a very few trusted loved ones. To the rest of the world I am a closed book; a blank slate; just another 54 year old woman living her life; out and about in the world. I shudder at the thought of strangers knowing the most painful details of my life. If I imagine going into a grocery store - a delightfully mundane task - and having damn near everyone know my story, well, that leaves me paralyzed.
Clearly these three women are very strong. They survived. They outlasted their kidnapper, abuser, tormentor, evildoer. Perhaps they will draw even more strength and courage from their community. Perhaps they will want to tell their stories - partly as catharsis; partly as inspiration.
But shouldn’t that be their choice?
The level of detail being released by authorities leaves me profoundly uncomfortable. What happened to these three women in Cleveland, Ohio was horrific. I can only begin to imagine their pain - physical and emotional. At what point is the “public’s right to know” superseded by the needs and rights of these three women - and one child - to begin to recover and heal?
I have experienced a few painful and challenging situations in my life. To be clear, they are absolutely as nothing compared to what these women endured. But I only revealed what happened to me to a very few trusted loved ones. To the rest of the world I am a closed book; a blank slate; just another 54 year old woman living her life; out and about in the world. I shudder at the thought of strangers knowing the most painful details of my life. If I imagine going into a grocery store - a delightfully mundane task - and having damn near everyone know my story, well, that leaves me paralyzed.
Clearly these three women are very strong. They survived. They outlasted their kidnapper, abuser, tormentor, evildoer. Perhaps they will draw even more strength and courage from their community. Perhaps they will want to tell their stories - partly as catharsis; partly as inspiration.
But shouldn’t that be their choice?
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Keepin’ It Real
The website I am about to link you to is totally NSFW.
But it is totally worth a visit.
It’s called “Thug Kitchen”.
Their subtitle is “Eat Like You Give A F**k”.
My friend Morgan in Australia has a friend named “bec7ford” who is now a Twitter friend of mine. She linked to Thug Kitchen and my jaw dropped.
It’s as if someone turned Julia Child into a drill sergeant. Then had Rachel Ray punctuate her speech with expletives. Then crossed the two genetically modified women together.
If you are easily offended by profanity, don’t bother checking it out.
(Even I, who can swear like a stevedore, was initially a little put off.)
But if you are looking for some healthy food inspiration with great science behind it, presented in an unusually bold fashion, plus attractive poster-like images then visit Thug Kitchen.
I am struggling mightily not to sign off in the style of Thug Kitchen... ;o)
But it is totally worth a visit.
It’s called “Thug Kitchen”.
Their subtitle is “Eat Like You Give A F**k”.
My friend Morgan in Australia has a friend named “bec7ford” who is now a Twitter friend of mine. She linked to Thug Kitchen and my jaw dropped.
It’s as if someone turned Julia Child into a drill sergeant. Then had Rachel Ray punctuate her speech with expletives. Then crossed the two genetically modified women together.
If you are easily offended by profanity, don’t bother checking it out.
(Even I, who can swear like a stevedore, was initially a little put off.)
But if you are looking for some healthy food inspiration with great science behind it, presented in an unusually bold fashion, plus attractive poster-like images then visit Thug Kitchen.
I am struggling mightily not to sign off in the style of Thug Kitchen... ;o)
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Kodlak
That’s Kodlak! He’s adorable! Yes?
Kodlak is seven months old and lives in Ohio with Lauren and Mike.
Kodlak has histoplasmosis and he needs a lot of medical care so he can vanquish that nasty fungal infection. Mike and Lauren are hardworking kids, a little younger than our nieces and nephews. The veterinary bills are already high and are going to continue to be significant as treatment will take several months.
Tonight Lauren and Mike launched a fundraising page for Kodlak over on Indiegogo. I had been hoping they would and as soon as I saw Lauren’s Tweet I made a modest contribution.
Kodlak reminds me of our cat Rory. Rory was a small, all black stray who found his way to us many years ago. He was ever so sweet. We called all the neighbors to see if he belonged to anyone. The elderly man next door said that he had been feeding the little guy, but that he couldn’t take him in. So we did. We took him to our wonderful vet who gave him a good check up, vaccinated and microchipped him. Unfortunately, little more than a week later, Rory was having trouble breathing. We rushed him back to our vet who ordered an X-Ray. That showed Rory had a very large infection in his chest. The doc speculated that while Rory was out in the wild he was in some sort of fight and was wounded in his side. The skin had healed over but the infection was growing inside and pressing on his lungs. Without the X-Ray there would have been no way to tell what was happening. That was why Rory passed his well-kitty check-up with flying colors only a week before.
Our vet ran an IV with fluids and handed us the X-Rays. We bundled Rory up in a blanket and I held him in my arms, with the IV bag in the air, while Chuck drove us to Tufts University Veterinary Hospital in North Grafton, Massachusetts. Our vet had called ahead so they were expecting us. They examined Rory immediately. The doctors told us they would have to perform surgery to drain the fluid and deal with the infection. They also asked for a substantial payment before they could operate. We handed over a credit card and well over a $1,000 was charged. They told us it could be closer to $2,000 when all was said and done. We didn’t have $1,000 to spare, but we knew we had to do all we could for Rory.
We drove home worried but hopeful. Surely, Tufts would be able to help. Shortly after arriving home we got a call. The doctors had Rory on the operating table and they didn’t believe he could be saved; the infection was too great; his body too severely compromised. They were calling us to get permission to suspend the emergency life savings measures they were performing. So we had to let Rory go. The next day we drove back to Tufts and picked up his body. We buried him under the crabapple tree.
Maybe it’s because Kodlak reminds me of Rory. Maybe it’s because I am familiar with what Lauren and Mike are going through with the backing and forthing to the vet and trying to administer medicines at home. Maybe it’s because Lauren is fierce and funny and does not suffer fools gladly and I admire her feistiness. Most likely it’s “all of the above” and that’s why I wanted to help.
I hope you will too. Here is their fundraising page: Help Kodlak Kick Histoplasmosis.
Even if you can’t donate right now, do click through to see some more cute photos of Kodlak on the “gallery” page.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
I Still Wish...
I first wrote and posted this piece in 2007. My feelings have not changed. In fact I believe it bears repeating even more so this year after extensive and intense political wrangling and manipulation to get not just abortion, but most forms of contraception outlawed in this country. The re-election of President Obama is certainly important, but it has little bearing on the individual state legislatures.
It also must be clearly stated that abortion existed long before Roe v. Wade. Abortions have been performed for thousands of years. Abortion was legal in this country before we were even a country. Abortion did not begin to become illegal in this country until the mid-1800s. Ironically, abortion became illegal at the point that the medical profession began to understand and practice safer surgical procedures. Because of this criminalization, in the century leading up to Roe v. Wade in 1973, women regularly died of illegal “back alley” abortions. Now, such a death is rare.
Today is the 40th anniversary of the United States Supreme Court Decision known as Roe v. Wade.
In light of this anniversary I have a few wishes to state:
- I wish, that from this moment on, no woman would ever have to make the decision to have an abortion.
- I wish all contraceptives, including the morning after pill, would always be readily available to all women.
- I wish that all young people would be taught age appropriate sex and health education.
- I wish that all young people would be taught that abstinence is a legitimate choice, at the same time they get clear information about all forms of contraception.
- And I wish that abortion would always be safe and legal and available to all women.
It also must be clearly stated that abortion existed long before Roe v. Wade. Abortions have been performed for thousands of years. Abortion was legal in this country before we were even a country. Abortion did not begin to become illegal in this country until the mid-1800s. Ironically, abortion became illegal at the point that the medical profession began to understand and practice safer surgical procedures. Because of this criminalization, in the century leading up to Roe v. Wade in 1973, women regularly died of illegal “back alley” abortions. Now, such a death is rare.
Today is the 40th anniversary of the United States Supreme Court Decision known as Roe v. Wade.
In light of this anniversary I have a few wishes to state:
- I wish, that from this moment on, no woman would ever have to make the decision to have an abortion.
- I wish all contraceptives, including the morning after pill, would always be readily available to all women.
- I wish that all young people would be taught age appropriate sex and health education.
- I wish that all young people would be taught that abstinence is a legitimate choice, at the same time they get clear information about all forms of contraception.
- And I wish that abortion would always be safe and legal and available to all women.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Deep Breath
2012 was rough - really rough.
Standing on the cusp of 2013 - weighted as it is with its trigger for triskaidekaphobia - I found it hard to be excited. Looking forward was fraught with risk. Hadn’t I done that on New Year’s Eve 2011?
I stayed with that negative feeling for quite a while - longer than I care to admit. Then I took my own advice about an attitude of gratitude and looked back to see what was good about 2012.
- Our grandnephew Finn was born and is healthy, handsome and wildly happy. His fine parents, Kate and Phil, are also wildly happy.
- Our grandniece Isabella celebrated her second birthday - and then some - and continues to be happy and learning like crazy. Izzy’s fine parents, Carrie and Al, are loving keeping up with their energetic treasure.
- My sister Gail surprised us with a visit from Georgia for Fourth of July fireworks.
- We were able to be with my sister Karen on April 27th and April 28th.
- Our niece Kayla found employment just a few weeks after relocating to the East Coast.
- Our niece Emily relocated to California and quickly found employment.
- We were grateful to have several visits with our grandniece Alex who is becoming a lovely young lady.
- We finally bought new cell phones and love how well they work for us.
- We saw relatives we hadn’t seen in years.
- I am now very comfortable creating spreadsheets in Numbers.
- We sold a condominium for a relative just a couple of weeks after we readied it and put it on the market.
- We learned to text - and negotiated the sale of the aforementioned condo mostly that way.
- We saw a “super” full moon in perigee and meteors.
- Chuck’s EEG was 100% normal.
- We got to know a cousin and his wife and they are are now dear friends.
- Our friend Wendy gave birth to a healthy little boy named Luca.
- We had the stand of ailing hemlocks - which scared me every time we had a storm - taken down or trimmed and treated.
- My heart was tested and tested some more and pronounced 100% A-OK.
- We added to our team of fine doctors and specialists and we still have a hospital we trust and like.
- We met a business associate in person after years of talking with him long distance. As a result, we like and trust him even more.
- When Chuck fell in November nothing worse than four non-displaced fractures happened.
- We had a lot of work done on our house by guys we trust completely.
- We got a new camera which has a speedy enough recovery to capture photos of speedy toddlers.
- Our friends’ daughter legally married her partner.
- We traveled to Bar Harbor and Acadia twice.
- We had two reunion luncheons with former colleagues.
- We had two reunion luncheons with extended family.
- We re-elected President Obama.
- One day, we babysat Isabella for eleven hours and when we returned her to her parents she was still in one piece.
- We saw the Grand Canyon.
OK 2013, I’m ready for you...
Standing on the cusp of 2013 - weighted as it is with its trigger for triskaidekaphobia - I found it hard to be excited. Looking forward was fraught with risk. Hadn’t I done that on New Year’s Eve 2011?
I stayed with that negative feeling for quite a while - longer than I care to admit. Then I took my own advice about an attitude of gratitude and looked back to see what was good about 2012.
- Our grandnephew Finn was born and is healthy, handsome and wildly happy. His fine parents, Kate and Phil, are also wildly happy.
- Our grandniece Isabella celebrated her second birthday - and then some - and continues to be happy and learning like crazy. Izzy’s fine parents, Carrie and Al, are loving keeping up with their energetic treasure.
- My sister Gail surprised us with a visit from Georgia for Fourth of July fireworks.
- We were able to be with my sister Karen on April 27th and April 28th.
- Our niece Kayla found employment just a few weeks after relocating to the East Coast.
- Our niece Emily relocated to California and quickly found employment.
- We were grateful to have several visits with our grandniece Alex who is becoming a lovely young lady.
- We finally bought new cell phones and love how well they work for us.
- We saw relatives we hadn’t seen in years.
- I am now very comfortable creating spreadsheets in Numbers.
- We sold a condominium for a relative just a couple of weeks after we readied it and put it on the market.
- We learned to text - and negotiated the sale of the aforementioned condo mostly that way.
- We saw a “super” full moon in perigee and meteors.
- Chuck’s EEG was 100% normal.
- We got to know a cousin and his wife and they are are now dear friends.
- Our friend Wendy gave birth to a healthy little boy named Luca.
- We had the stand of ailing hemlocks - which scared me every time we had a storm - taken down or trimmed and treated.
- My heart was tested and tested some more and pronounced 100% A-OK.
- We added to our team of fine doctors and specialists and we still have a hospital we trust and like.
- We met a business associate in person after years of talking with him long distance. As a result, we like and trust him even more.
- When Chuck fell in November nothing worse than four non-displaced fractures happened.
- We had a lot of work done on our house by guys we trust completely.
- We got a new camera which has a speedy enough recovery to capture photos of speedy toddlers.
- Our friends’ daughter legally married her partner.
- We traveled to Bar Harbor and Acadia twice.
- We had two reunion luncheons with former colleagues.
- We had two reunion luncheons with extended family.
- We re-elected President Obama.
- One day, we babysat Isabella for eleven hours and when we returned her to her parents she was still in one piece.
- We saw the Grand Canyon.
OK 2013, I’m ready for you...
Monday, December 3, 2012
Will and Kate
They are charming, intelligent, poised, seemingly down-to earth and beautiful. They are the prince and princess of our childhood fairytales come to life. There is no Evil Queen; no Evil Stepmother just a voracious, insatiable press digging into them and photographing their every move. They are Will and Kate, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.
(I’ve written previously about my feelings toward this couple and all British Royalty. So I will sidestep all the benefits and costs associated with their positions and attendant to their roles in British society.)
Last summer, when photos were released of Kate sunbathing topless, the press, along with social media, went nuts. That’s not lazy word choice on my part, they were freakin’ insane. At the time, all I posted was: “The important point about Will and Kate sunbathing topless is that they were using SunScreen! #SkinCancerAwareness ;o)” Privately, I thought it was a little naive of them to be so visible to the public, but really, who cares? Soon after, I was sitting in a dentist’s office waiting for Chuck, thumbing through a People Magazine. The magazine had published a photo of where the photographer was standing when they snapped the pictures. (Here is a comparable image.) My jaw dropped. The point on the road was about a half a mile away from where Will and Kate were on the private balcony. One half mile! That’s the length of nearly nine football fields placed end to end - or nearly two Empire State Buildings or two and a half Eiffel Towers! For most anyone else in the world that would have been plenty private and plenty reasonable.
Now it has been announced that Kate is pregnant with their first child. Unfortunately she has been hospitalized with a medical complication known as hyperemesis gravidarum. This isn’t “just morning sickness” nor is it “just acute” or “intense morning sickness”. This is unrelenting vomiting. Since we’re talking about a member of the Royal Family, I have to assume that if Kate’s symptoms had fallen along the typical mild to dreadful morning (or all day) sickness continuum she would be at home. It’s also clear from the timing of the announcement (Kate is still early in her first trimester) that the situation was serious enough that The Palace broke the news early. But the press - and most particularly social media - is having a field day with the story. And it’s been more than snarky, it’s been decidedly ugly.
What have I learned? Well, the other day I decided I don’t have a thick enough hide to run for political office. Today I confirmed that it is a very good thing that I didn’t follow those two of six degrees of separation to meet and marry Prince Albert of Monaco, because I could not live in the roiling waters of that sort of fishbowl.
So here’s to Will and Kate and their child. May they all soon be well and strong and happy.
(I’ve written previously about my feelings toward this couple and all British Royalty. So I will sidestep all the benefits and costs associated with their positions and attendant to their roles in British society.)
Last summer, when photos were released of Kate sunbathing topless, the press, along with social media, went nuts. That’s not lazy word choice on my part, they were freakin’ insane. At the time, all I posted was: “The important point about Will and Kate sunbathing topless is that they were using SunScreen! #SkinCancerAwareness ;o)” Privately, I thought it was a little naive of them to be so visible to the public, but really, who cares? Soon after, I was sitting in a dentist’s office waiting for Chuck, thumbing through a People Magazine. The magazine had published a photo of where the photographer was standing when they snapped the pictures. (Here is a comparable image.) My jaw dropped. The point on the road was about a half a mile away from where Will and Kate were on the private balcony. One half mile! That’s the length of nearly nine football fields placed end to end - or nearly two Empire State Buildings or two and a half Eiffel Towers! For most anyone else in the world that would have been plenty private and plenty reasonable.
Now it has been announced that Kate is pregnant with their first child. Unfortunately she has been hospitalized with a medical complication known as hyperemesis gravidarum. This isn’t “just morning sickness” nor is it “just acute” or “intense morning sickness”. This is unrelenting vomiting. Since we’re talking about a member of the Royal Family, I have to assume that if Kate’s symptoms had fallen along the typical mild to dreadful morning (or all day) sickness continuum she would be at home. It’s also clear from the timing of the announcement (Kate is still early in her first trimester) that the situation was serious enough that The Palace broke the news early. But the press - and most particularly social media - is having a field day with the story. And it’s been more than snarky, it’s been decidedly ugly.
What have I learned? Well, the other day I decided I don’t have a thick enough hide to run for political office. Today I confirmed that it is a very good thing that I didn’t follow those two of six degrees of separation to meet and marry Prince Albert of Monaco, because I could not live in the roiling waters of that sort of fishbowl.
So here’s to Will and Kate and their child. May they all soon be well and strong and happy.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
How Doctors Die
“How Doctors Die - It’s Not Like the Rest of Us But It Should Be”
That’s the title of an article our niece Carrie sent us a link to shortly before Chuck’s Tanta died. Written by Ken Murray, MD, it was timely then and, most likely, will be timely many more times during our lives.
One of the things which required the most explanation as we began telling family and friends why Chuck’s Tanta was entering hospice care, was that she was not going to have a biopsy and there would be no treatment for her cancer.
Tanta had the same primary care physician for decades. His colleague had been her mother’s doctor back in the 1980s. Tanta and we met with each doctor about a week apart. At the second appointment her primary confirmed the diagnosis of liver cancer. He explained that the size of the mass and the progression of the disease was quite clear from the CT-Scan. He told us that they had seen nodules on both of her lungs, which they believed was likely a recurrence of the lung cancer Tanta had beaten successfully many years before. Now it seemed that the lung cancer had metastasized to the the liver. But even if it were an intrahepatic cholangiocarcinoma the options and outcome would be the same. A biopsy was not necessary because it didn’t matter which kind of cancer it was. It was untreatable.
We live in a time when treatment, often aggressive treatment, is the norm. The CT-Scan had been done in Boston at one of the finest hospitals around. Both of Tanta’s doctors were affiliated with that hospital. We all went into those appointments expecting to come away with a treatment plan. Instead, two experienced, compassionate doctors were very frank and honest with Tanta, while also being gentle and respectful. Initially the news that there was no treatment which would not do more harm than good was startling. But in short order we all came to understand the wisdom of their advice.
Tanta was given the truth. It was a gift. Tanta also gave us a gift long ago by spelling out, in no uncertain terms, her desire to spend her final days at home. Because of both of these gifts she did not spend her last weeks being shuttled to doctors and hospitals for unnecessary treatments. Instead she stayed in her own home where family, friends, neighbors and rabbis from her temple could stop in for a visit. She had round the clock care and, as she put it, she didn’t have to wait twenty minutes after she rang a bell for someone to respond to her needs. And the brilliant hospice staff was in regularly to tend to her physical, emotional and spiritual needs - but always on her terms, not theirs. Tanta died peacefully and, most importantly, she died with dignity.
Not everyone is able to die this way. Dr. Murray’s article spells out very clearly why we all need to think ahead and understand all of our options. The resources and options are increasing - not just for treatment of disease but for hospice and palliative care. We have choices.
That’s the title of an article our niece Carrie sent us a link to shortly before Chuck’s Tanta died. Written by Ken Murray, MD, it was timely then and, most likely, will be timely many more times during our lives.
One of the things which required the most explanation as we began telling family and friends why Chuck’s Tanta was entering hospice care, was that she was not going to have a biopsy and there would be no treatment for her cancer.
Tanta had the same primary care physician for decades. His colleague had been her mother’s doctor back in the 1980s. Tanta and we met with each doctor about a week apart. At the second appointment her primary confirmed the diagnosis of liver cancer. He explained that the size of the mass and the progression of the disease was quite clear from the CT-Scan. He told us that they had seen nodules on both of her lungs, which they believed was likely a recurrence of the lung cancer Tanta had beaten successfully many years before. Now it seemed that the lung cancer had metastasized to the the liver. But even if it were an intrahepatic cholangiocarcinoma the options and outcome would be the same. A biopsy was not necessary because it didn’t matter which kind of cancer it was. It was untreatable.
We live in a time when treatment, often aggressive treatment, is the norm. The CT-Scan had been done in Boston at one of the finest hospitals around. Both of Tanta’s doctors were affiliated with that hospital. We all went into those appointments expecting to come away with a treatment plan. Instead, two experienced, compassionate doctors were very frank and honest with Tanta, while also being gentle and respectful. Initially the news that there was no treatment which would not do more harm than good was startling. But in short order we all came to understand the wisdom of their advice.
Tanta was given the truth. It was a gift. Tanta also gave us a gift long ago by spelling out, in no uncertain terms, her desire to spend her final days at home. Because of both of these gifts she did not spend her last weeks being shuttled to doctors and hospitals for unnecessary treatments. Instead she stayed in her own home where family, friends, neighbors and rabbis from her temple could stop in for a visit. She had round the clock care and, as she put it, she didn’t have to wait twenty minutes after she rang a bell for someone to respond to her needs. And the brilliant hospice staff was in regularly to tend to her physical, emotional and spiritual needs - but always on her terms, not theirs. Tanta died peacefully and, most importantly, she died with dignity.
Not everyone is able to die this way. Dr. Murray’s article spells out very clearly why we all need to think ahead and understand all of our options. The resources and options are increasing - not just for treatment of disease but for hospice and palliative care. We have choices.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Ticks
To be clear, I HATE ticks.
By all accounts this is going to be a very rough season. By season I mean spring, summer and autumn. An incredibly mild winter has been the common wisdom for the high number of ticks. But Dr. Richard S. Ostfeld has another explanation: acorns and white footed mice. The article in Science Daily is a quick and interesting read. Regardless of the precipitating factors, ticks are dangerous.
Part of why I hate ticks a great deal right now is because one latched onto Chuck this weekend. He wasn’t out doing yard work without protection. As far as we can tell he was just walking to the compost pile and back. Frankly, most of the joy of gardening has disappeared into the sea of haz-mat level gear, bug spray on clothing, body checks and loads of laundry that need to be done after every outdoor foray.
I followed the tick removal guidelines as best I could - patience is key. I cleansed the area and applied triple antibiotic ointment under the bandage. But every time this happens we worry about Lyme Disease. How can we not?
By all accounts this is going to be a very rough season. By season I mean spring, summer and autumn. An incredibly mild winter has been the common wisdom for the high number of ticks. But Dr. Richard S. Ostfeld has another explanation: acorns and white footed mice. The article in Science Daily is a quick and interesting read. Regardless of the precipitating factors, ticks are dangerous.
Part of why I hate ticks a great deal right now is because one latched onto Chuck this weekend. He wasn’t out doing yard work without protection. As far as we can tell he was just walking to the compost pile and back. Frankly, most of the joy of gardening has disappeared into the sea of haz-mat level gear, bug spray on clothing, body checks and loads of laundry that need to be done after every outdoor foray.
I followed the tick removal guidelines as best I could - patience is key. I cleansed the area and applied triple antibiotic ointment under the bandage. But every time this happens we worry about Lyme Disease. How can we not?
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Shemira
Similar to the Irish tradition of remaining with the body of a loved one until burial, Shemira is the Jewish ritual of attending or guarding the body. The difference is that the Shomer or Shomeret usually sits and prays alone and may never have known the deceased in life. The Irish tradition is one of family and friends being with the recently departed. Although when Tanta died Chuck and I did go to the funeral home and spent a few moments with her and with the Shomer who was attending her at that time.
It was a comfort to us to know that from the moment we escorted Tanta’s body to the funeral van, throughout the process of taharah and until we helped bury her body next to her parents and her brother, that she would always be accompanied. It was especially comforting to the caregivers who had been with Tanta around the clock in her final months to know that she would never be alone. For them it meant that their work would be carried on.
Growing up, my Dad would often tell us that when his time came he wanted to be laid out in the living room. He thought the sofa where he would stretch out to watch the eleven o’clock news followed by “The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson” would be just the right spot. Dad was of Irish and Scottish descent but even his Scottish side had come from Ireland originally, so the roots ran deep. I wish we could have honored his wish. But by the time his parents passed away decades before him we were already bringing our dearly departed to funeral homes or funeral parlors - named with a nod to the time when families were at the heart of the process - and that’s where they “went out of”.
The first funeral I remember was of my Dad’s mother. I was just eight. There was some discussion in the extended family that I was too young to attend the open casketed wake. My parents disagreed and I attended. I’m so glad I did. I could see Grandma, kneel down and say a little prayer and begin to understand the rituals of death and burial.
Today is my Dad’s yahrzeit. As I write this, his memorial candle burns brightly. Twenty-four years ago today Dad died. He had been surrounded by his wife and three daughters all day. Late in the evening my mother sent us home from the hospital. While I was driving home in the cold and dark from Massachusetts to Connecticut, Dad breathed his last; his wife of nearly forty-two years by his side. I wondered about so many things that night. What I never questioned was that Dad’s death was a release and a relief for him. He had been so very ill for so very long. The Alzheimer’s Disease had cruelly robbed him and all of us of the warm, intelligent, funny man who worked hard, sang beautifully, told a great story, and loved his family above all else. At times in his life Dad struggled - as do we all - but his love for all of us never wavered.
Dad wasn’t laid out in our living room. He and Mom had sold that big old house a few years before and Mom was living alone in a condominium. Dad went out of the funeral home his father-in-law had gone out of. There was no Shomer in that tradition, but we did have an open casketed wake in the front parlor of the funeral home and his children and grandchildren were there to visit and attend. We said our goodbyes, had a proper funeral mass in the church Dad helped bring to fruition and buried him next to his parents and brothers.
Zichrono liveracha ~ His memory is a blessing.
And it always shall be...
You can read the story behind how a Catholic daughter came to light a Jewish yahrzeit candle for her father by clicking here. My poem, “Your Yahrzeit” can also be found there.
It was a comfort to us to know that from the moment we escorted Tanta’s body to the funeral van, throughout the process of taharah and until we helped bury her body next to her parents and her brother, that she would always be accompanied. It was especially comforting to the caregivers who had been with Tanta around the clock in her final months to know that she would never be alone. For them it meant that their work would be carried on.
Growing up, my Dad would often tell us that when his time came he wanted to be laid out in the living room. He thought the sofa where he would stretch out to watch the eleven o’clock news followed by “The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson” would be just the right spot. Dad was of Irish and Scottish descent but even his Scottish side had come from Ireland originally, so the roots ran deep. I wish we could have honored his wish. But by the time his parents passed away decades before him we were already bringing our dearly departed to funeral homes or funeral parlors - named with a nod to the time when families were at the heart of the process - and that’s where they “went out of”.
The first funeral I remember was of my Dad’s mother. I was just eight. There was some discussion in the extended family that I was too young to attend the open casketed wake. My parents disagreed and I attended. I’m so glad I did. I could see Grandma, kneel down and say a little prayer and begin to understand the rituals of death and burial.
Today is my Dad’s yahrzeit. As I write this, his memorial candle burns brightly. Twenty-four years ago today Dad died. He had been surrounded by his wife and three daughters all day. Late in the evening my mother sent us home from the hospital. While I was driving home in the cold and dark from Massachusetts to Connecticut, Dad breathed his last; his wife of nearly forty-two years by his side. I wondered about so many things that night. What I never questioned was that Dad’s death was a release and a relief for him. He had been so very ill for so very long. The Alzheimer’s Disease had cruelly robbed him and all of us of the warm, intelligent, funny man who worked hard, sang beautifully, told a great story, and loved his family above all else. At times in his life Dad struggled - as do we all - but his love for all of us never wavered.
Dad wasn’t laid out in our living room. He and Mom had sold that big old house a few years before and Mom was living alone in a condominium. Dad went out of the funeral home his father-in-law had gone out of. There was no Shomer in that tradition, but we did have an open casketed wake in the front parlor of the funeral home and his children and grandchildren were there to visit and attend. We said our goodbyes, had a proper funeral mass in the church Dad helped bring to fruition and buried him next to his parents and brothers.
Zichrono liveracha ~ His memory is a blessing.
And it always shall be...
You can read the story behind how a Catholic daughter came to light a Jewish yahrzeit candle for her father by clicking here. My poem, “Your Yahrzeit” can also be found there.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Joy and Sorrow
Thursday, February 9, 2012, we spent the afternoon with Chuck’s Tanta. Age 89 and in hospice care with liver cancer, she was clearly in her final days. I sat by her bedside and talked to her. I named every family member that had been in touch with us and passed their love onto her. Then I began reviewing the bidding. I recounted all the ways she had been a good woman: a daughter, a sister, a sister-in-law, a friend, an aunt, a great aunt, a member of her community. I let a cascade of names and good memories wash over her. In the living room, one of Tanta’s caregivers, “A” could hear me over the baby monitor we had set up. She asked Chuck if Tanta was talking to me. He said no, but that we believed she could hear or, at the very least, sense, what was being said to her. “A” nodded quietly in agreement.
The next morning, just after 6:00 a.m., the phone rang. Our niece Carrie was calling with the news that her sister Kate's water had broken. With that call we were off on the Kate, Phil and Baby Finn adventure! We arrived at Beth Israel Deaconess at Noon. We have been to Beth Israel with Tanta more times than we can count. This was the first time we had ever been to Beth Israel for a joyous occasion and we have to say we thoroughly enjoyed it!
When the news of Kate's impending C-section came to "Team Finn" sometime after midnight, we all had to make decisions. The predicted snowstorm and distance between hospital and homes were factors. While the rest of the family needed to leave, we stayed. We felt that we had all planted the Baby Finn Family Flag in the lobby and that our circumstances allowed us to remain and hold down the fort.
We rearranged our camp in the lobby and dozed on and off until Phil brought us the very good news of Finn's arrival: 9 pounds, 5 ounces (4.22 kilograms), 21 inches long! He also told us the equally good news that Kate was well! After that, Chuck took to the floor and got about two hours of sleep. I followed suit across two chairs. Soon Phil came and escorted us upstairs. After the delight of being able to see Kate, to know she really was well, to meet the fabulous Finn and to see the newly expanded family settled in their room, we took our leave.
As we headed home out of Boston we thought about stopping in Brookline to visit Tanta, but because it was so early and we needed to get some solid sleep in our own bed we decided to head home. Driving along the Mass Pike and then Route 9 we felt lucky that the predicted snow was just a dusting and that the roads weren't bad at all. Just before the Shrewsbury-Worcester line the cell phone rang. It was one of Chuck’s Tanta's caregivers calling to tell us she had died peacefully in her sleep.
We found ourselves at another decision point. Home would have to wait. We began making phone calls, grabbed a quick breakfast at Blanchard’s 101 Diner in Worcester and headed back from Worcester for Brookline. We were able to be with Tanta for a bit and said our final good byes by singing the Bedtime Shema. We also witnessed a very dignified transition performed by two gracious young women from the funeral home. Then we escorted her body downstairs to the vehicle.
The rest of the day was spent making phone calls, working out details with the funeral home about Tuesday's service and tending to things at her condo. We finally arrived home about 9:30 p.m. Saturday night, fed three justifiably disgruntled cats and at long last headed for bed.
We were in touch with everyone on Chuck's side of the family on Saturday, but we chose not to share the news with anyone on little Finn’s side until the next day. While none of them were close to Tanta, we did not want any mention of death to be part of such a joyful day.
We are saddened by Tanta’s passing. Yet we know we did everything to fulfill her wishes including her deep desire to die at home in her own bed, just as her own mother had in 1989, with her youngest daughter, our Tanta, by her side.
For Tanta:
Zichrona liveracha ~ Her memory is a blessing.
For Finn and for all of us:
L’chaim! ~ To life!
The next morning, just after 6:00 a.m., the phone rang. Our niece Carrie was calling with the news that her sister Kate's water had broken. With that call we were off on the Kate, Phil and Baby Finn adventure! We arrived at Beth Israel Deaconess at Noon. We have been to Beth Israel with Tanta more times than we can count. This was the first time we had ever been to Beth Israel for a joyous occasion and we have to say we thoroughly enjoyed it!
When the news of Kate's impending C-section came to "Team Finn" sometime after midnight, we all had to make decisions. The predicted snowstorm and distance between hospital and homes were factors. While the rest of the family needed to leave, we stayed. We felt that we had all planted the Baby Finn Family Flag in the lobby and that our circumstances allowed us to remain and hold down the fort.
We rearranged our camp in the lobby and dozed on and off until Phil brought us the very good news of Finn's arrival: 9 pounds, 5 ounces (4.22 kilograms), 21 inches long! He also told us the equally good news that Kate was well! After that, Chuck took to the floor and got about two hours of sleep. I followed suit across two chairs. Soon Phil came and escorted us upstairs. After the delight of being able to see Kate, to know she really was well, to meet the fabulous Finn and to see the newly expanded family settled in their room, we took our leave.
As we headed home out of Boston we thought about stopping in Brookline to visit Tanta, but because it was so early and we needed to get some solid sleep in our own bed we decided to head home. Driving along the Mass Pike and then Route 9 we felt lucky that the predicted snow was just a dusting and that the roads weren't bad at all. Just before the Shrewsbury-Worcester line the cell phone rang. It was one of Chuck’s Tanta's caregivers calling to tell us she had died peacefully in her sleep.
We found ourselves at another decision point. Home would have to wait. We began making phone calls, grabbed a quick breakfast at Blanchard’s 101 Diner in Worcester and headed back from Worcester for Brookline. We were able to be with Tanta for a bit and said our final good byes by singing the Bedtime Shema. We also witnessed a very dignified transition performed by two gracious young women from the funeral home. Then we escorted her body downstairs to the vehicle.
The rest of the day was spent making phone calls, working out details with the funeral home about Tuesday's service and tending to things at her condo. We finally arrived home about 9:30 p.m. Saturday night, fed three justifiably disgruntled cats and at long last headed for bed.
We were in touch with everyone on Chuck's side of the family on Saturday, but we chose not to share the news with anyone on little Finn’s side until the next day. While none of them were close to Tanta, we did not want any mention of death to be part of such a joyful day.
We are saddened by Tanta’s passing. Yet we know we did everything to fulfill her wishes including her deep desire to die at home in her own bed, just as her own mother had in 1989, with her youngest daughter, our Tanta, by her side.
For Tanta:
Zichrona liveracha ~ Her memory is a blessing.
For Finn and for all of us:
L’chaim! ~ To life!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
I Still Wish...
I first wrote and posted this piece in 2007. My feelings have not changed. I believe it bears repeating and more so this year after extensive political wrangling to get not just abortion, but most forms of contraception outlawed in this country. Of course the balance on the Supreme Court remains key to this issue. Which means the upcoming presidential election is vital as well.
Today is the 39th anniversary of the United States Supreme Court Decision known as Roe v. Wade.
In light of this anniversary I have a few wishes to state:
- I wish, that from this moment on, no woman would ever have to make the decision to have an abortion.
- I wish contraceptives, including the morning after pill, would always be readily available to all women.
- I wish that all young people would be taught age appropriate sex and health education.
- I wish that all young people would be taught that abstinence is a legitimate choice, at the same time they get clear information about all forms of contraception.
- And I wish that abortion would always be safe and legal and available to all women.
Today is the 39th anniversary of the United States Supreme Court Decision known as Roe v. Wade.
In light of this anniversary I have a few wishes to state:
- I wish, that from this moment on, no woman would ever have to make the decision to have an abortion.
- I wish contraceptives, including the morning after pill, would always be readily available to all women.
- I wish that all young people would be taught age appropriate sex and health education.
- I wish that all young people would be taught that abstinence is a legitimate choice, at the same time they get clear information about all forms of contraception.
- And I wish that abortion would always be safe and legal and available to all women.
Monday, January 16, 2012
A Moment
Yesterday we drove down to Rhode Island for the first time since Christmas. We visited with my Mom as well as Al, Carrie and Isabella Rose. Izzy is in constant motion now. She has graduated from walking while holding on to two hands, to holding on to only one hand! (Racing down the hallway with her, while bent over holding her little hand, is a chiropractor’s dream scenario!) She is also saying “Hi!” for both hello and goodbye - rather like one uses Aloha or Shalom!
Because of her bottomless energy, most of my photographs of Bella are now quite blurry. This quiet moment on Uncle Chuck, examining his Lapis Lazuli beads, was a beautiful exception.
In other family baby news, our niece Kate’s pregnancy is progressing smoothly (Yes, I am knocking on wood!). And she is the only pregnant woman I have ever known who grows lovelier by the month. Kate, her husband Phil and the entire extended family are excitedly awaiting the arrival of Isabella’s cousin Finn, sometime in February!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Thank You TJ’s
For several weeks we have been devoting a great deal of time and energy to helping Chuck’s elderly aunt. Working with hospice has been of clear benefit to Tanta and a blessing to us. Every life is complex and complicated; Tanta’s no less than anyone else’s. We are wending our way through a life’s maze built on privacy and filled with explicit and sometimes contradictory requests and desires. We are learning a great deal. We are sad. And we are weary.
Ever since Trader Joe’s has been doing their “bring your own bag, fill out a ticket” raffle we have been faithfully filling out tickets. This has been going on for years. We have written our name and phone number on tickets and slips all over Massachusetts, in Rhode Island and out in Washington state. Week after week some other lucky TJ’s customer has won. That’s why we were so delighted to receive a phone call telling us that we had won the bring your own bag raffle! Several days ago we came home after a very long day on the road and being with Tanta, to see the red light on our answering machine flashing and four messages waiting for us. Three were about Chuck’s aunt. The last was a cheery message from a gal named Leslie in Shrewsbury saying we had won a $25.00 Trader Joe’s gift certificate! We listened to it twice and high-fived each other to boot!
Tonight, on our way home from Tanta’s, we stopped at the Trader Joe’s on Route 9 in Shrewsbury and picked up our gift certificate. Chuck couldn’t resist snapping this photograph. The gift certificate was a welcome treat; our names on the sign such good fun. And exactly what we needed right now.
Ever since Trader Joe’s has been doing their “bring your own bag, fill out a ticket” raffle we have been faithfully filling out tickets. This has been going on for years. We have written our name and phone number on tickets and slips all over Massachusetts, in Rhode Island and out in Washington state. Week after week some other lucky TJ’s customer has won. That’s why we were so delighted to receive a phone call telling us that we had won the bring your own bag raffle! Several days ago we came home after a very long day on the road and being with Tanta, to see the red light on our answering machine flashing and four messages waiting for us. Three were about Chuck’s aunt. The last was a cheery message from a gal named Leslie in Shrewsbury saying we had won a $25.00 Trader Joe’s gift certificate! We listened to it twice and high-fived each other to boot!
Tonight, on our way home from Tanta’s, we stopped at the Trader Joe’s on Route 9 in Shrewsbury and picked up our gift certificate. Chuck couldn’t resist snapping this photograph. The gift certificate was a welcome treat; our names on the sign such good fun. And exactly what we needed right now.
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