Friday, April 15, 2011

Strawberry Friday: Graceful Exits

I had a special relationship with Sushila Blackman, compiler and editor of Graceful Exits: How Great Beings Die.  We met when I was three, living with my mom in a Siddha Yoga ashram in south Fallsburg, New York.  I once told her I was her mother in a past life.  We also shared a birthday, June 21, though probably 30 years apart.  On our birthday in the darshan line, Sushila gave Baba Muktananda a pink and orange scarf with gold thread.  Since it was also my 3rd birthday, when I got up in the darshan line, Baba re-gifted the scarf to me.  I still have it today.

When I was 24 and living in Taiwan I got a call from my mom that Sushila was dying of cancer.  I was scared to call, it had been so long since I had talked to her.  But I did remember our special bonds- our birthday and our cosmic birth order.  I called her as her mother from a former life, eased her mind about the circle of life, and told her I'd miss her and to come visit me. 

It was hard to be brave and made that call.  It's so easy to shy away from death, and to let hard calls like these pass us by.  But one thing I learned from mom was the worth and value of a loving, truthful goodbye.  I owed Sushila that much, and any other person I've come to know.

Sushila's book is amazing- it recounts the death stories of 108 Tibetan, Hindu, and Zen masters.  In the spirit of mom's cherished Strawberry parable, I share some of the entries for Strawberry Friday.


No. 3


    Senior disciples assembled at his bedside as Zen Master Taji approached death.  One of them, remembering the master was fond of a certain kind of cake, had spent half a day searching the pastry shops of Tokyo for this confection, which he now presented to him.  With a wan smile the dying master accepted a piece of the cake and slowly began munching it.  As he grew weaker, his disciples inquired whether he had any final words for them.
    "Yes," the master replied.
    The disciples leaned forward eagerly so as not to miss a word.
    "Please tell us!"
    "My, but this cake is delicious!"
And with that he slipped away.

Text credit: Graceful Exits: How Great Beings Die compiled and edited by Sushila Blackman, Weatherhill, Inc., p. 28
Photo credit: Sarah Miller and cover of Graceful Exits by Sushila Blackman and D.S. Noble.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Yul Brynner: A Gift from the King

Promotional shots given to mom as she researched this article.
From mom's own pen:

Dr. Sisson invited me to be the Executive Director of the Yul Brynner Head and Neck Cancer Foundation in December 1993 as I was still recovering from the neutron radiation.  This is an article I [Janet Trever] wrote for an October 1995 newsletter that best sums up my experience with the Foundation and my hopes for its future.

In 1982 a very important alliance began between head and neck cancer patients and Broadway/Hollywood celebrity Yul Brynner.  Yul Brynner was diagnosed with a pre-cancerous larynx condition that had developed while he was starring in the King and I in Chicago.  He was referred to otolaryngologist, Dr. George A. Sission, Sr.  A strong friendship developed between the two men beyond the initial patient/physician relationship; it continued until Yul’s death from metastasized lung cancer in 1985.  It was this friendship that led them to establish the Yul Brynner Head and Neck cancer Foundation.

Yul was a man for all seasons, a creative genius with versatility and adaptability to spare.  Born to a white Russian mother and a Swiss father in 1920, he spent his early childhood in Peking and Paris.  At the age of 12 he joined the circus as an aerialist.  (He had to convince the owners of the circus that he was over 20 years old.  Actually, they believed he was 25).  Five years after his career as an aerialist began, it ended.  He had a fall that left him “disabled” on one side of his body.  Yul then went on to become a gypsy folk singer in Paris clubs until his immigration to the United States.

Upon his arrival in the States, Yul worked as a truck driver and a stagehand for Chekov in New York.  He later became a director for “Studio One.”  One of his early acting roles was that of the young prince in “Lute Song” where he met Mary Martin who was starring in the production.  It was in 1950 that Mary introduced him to the first act of the script for a musical adaptation of Anna and the King of Siam.  She was certain that he was the perfect person to play the role of the king.

The first production of The King and I was in 1951.  Irene Sharaff was in charge of costuming for this production and suggested that Yul shave his head for the role of king.  Her research had shown that historically this king of Siam had lived in a Buddhist monastery for 19 years and had his head shaved during that time.  Yul followed her suggestion and shaved his head; this eventually became his trademark.

Originally, Gertrude Lawrence had asked Rogers and Hammerstein to adapt the story into a musical especially for her.  She became the first “Mrs. Anna,” a role that has since been played by many actresses.  The 1951 production was later adapted into a motion picture film in 1956 and went on to win 5 Academy Awards.  Yul had the distinction of being nominated for best actor in two motion pictures in the same year.  He received the Oscar for best actor in The King and I (In addition to the Oscar, he has also earned two Tony Awards for his portrayal of the king) and was nominated for best actor for Anastasia the same year.

Yul made three dozen movies over the years.  Then in 1978 he launched a lavish production of King and I at the Palladium in London.  This production ran until 1980.  It was during this time that Yul met Kathy Lee, and aspiring dancer, who would become his wife the last years of his life.  Kathy grew up in Malaysia, attended ballet boarding school in England, and landed the combined role of the lead royal dancer and Eliza in the Palladium production.

King and I played in 31 cities in the U.S. from 1980 to 1985.  Yul performed the role 4,625 times during his career.  People often asked if he was not bored playing the same role so many times, but he always responded that he felt he was telling a spellbinding story for 3 hours, 8 times a week, and that the king was such a marvelous character that he was constantly learning new things at each performance as he told the story.  Yul felt that the issues of human rights, of a changing world, and of cultures colliding in the name of progress were very relevant issues in the play and in reality as well.  He envisioned that King and I would be performed well into future centuries.

Yul was a very generous individual.  Rita Morino recalls a wonderful story of his generosity as they prepared to film the movie in the mid 1950s.  At that time, she was a young and inexperienced actress who had been cast in the role of Tuptim.  Yul saw this young actress in a deeper portrayal of the role than proposed and consequently paid for her to have acting and coaching lessons.  At the time Rita wondered why he was offering this gift, and later realized how much he cared about her strength as an actress and her attainment of the highest quality portrayal of the role.

He was also a man of great compassion, especially for children and for those less fortunate.  During a 1981 televised Boston interview with Elliot Norton, Yul spoke of the significance of “The March of the Siamese Children.”  He said it was symbolic for the king to bow to the children to show honor and respect for each individual.  Indeed Yul was a man who possessed these qualities of honor and respect and later became Ambassador for Children to the United Nations.  He was also awarded the United Nations Peace Medal for his projects with refugees.  Together with Edward R. Murrow he hosted a television special entitled “RESCUE” dealing with the plight of eastern European refugees.  Many were stranded in refugee camps indefinitely if a family member was found to have a spot on his/her lungs.  Yul likened these people to the “Anne Franks of the Cold War.”  In 1983 Yul became a spokesman for the Hollywood Red Cross blood drive giving interviews and urging people to donate blood despite the new fear of HIV transference.  He assumed then that it was safe at that time and place to contribute, as he had just done.

Yul’s wife, Kathy, who serves as Chairman of the Foundation’s Honorary Board, describes Yul as an unbelievable funny man, with an incredible zest and appetite for life.  “He made me laugh,” she says.  “When two ladies put their hands on top of his head as they passed him going the opposite direction on department store escalators, he quietly muttered, “You could lose your hands that way.”  Another incident that Kathy described was Yul’s evening drink during the last months of his life.  Each evening he would ask Kathy to fix him a dry Manhattan and she would dutifully bring him his carrot juice.

A man of many contrasts and complexities, Yul like caviar on his scrambled eggs, spoke Georgina Russian, Chinese, Versailles French, and English: he personified the lyrics of his “Puzzlement” soliloquy.  He received several academic degrees, and even attended classes at Northwestern University in Chicago during the day while performing the King and I at night.  He said he was very lucky that he had no classes on Wednesday afternoons when he gave matinee performances.

Yul’s sojourn with cancer began in 1982.  Following day surgery on Monday, he was told that his voice should be allowed to rest and not used for several days.  He ignored Dr. Sisson’s orders, began vocalizing in his hospital room as the anesthe3tic wore off, then went on with his weekly performances beginning the next evening so as not to miss a single performance.

Yul planned to retire the role of the king on June 30, 1985 and then planned to tour the country raising funds for a Head and Neck Institute.  However, in the fall of 1984 he was again stricken by illness and was diagnosed with terminal lymphatic cancer requiring chemotherapy.  He swore his wife and doctor to secrecy, and continued his performances 8 times a week throughout his treatments.  The supporting cast and audiences were not aware of any medical condition or problem.

Yul Brynner thought he had beaten the odds, but in the spring of 1985 he was diagnosed with cancer that had metastasized to his lungs.  His final performances were very difficult.  Mary Beth Peil was interviewed on national television the day that Yul died, October 10, 1985.  She was his last “Mrs. Anna” on stage and spoke of his generosity when she began playing the part.  He gave much of his time to her, coaching her and sharing his excellent timing and stage presence; working toward the perfectionism in her that he always demanded of himself.  She said that during his last performances when he could barely get on and off stage, Yul came to depend on her.  The dance scene was choreographed so that he only turned as she did the primary dancing.  Supporting him at this time was a very small part of the huge debt she owed him from those earlier days.  She said that, although Yul was in great pain, the look of pain on his face would disappear as the curtain went up and wouldn’t reappear until he had to struggle off stage after the final curtain call.

During a “60 minutes” interview with Mike Wallace in 1985, Yul and Kathy talked about coping with cancer.  He said, I was taught that we are born alone, we live along, and we die alone.  If you accept that as total reality, then any friendship, and relationship that contributes to your life you accept with gratitude as a gift.  You must never take it for granted.”  When Yul was asked how he was able to perform during the chemotherapy in Los Angeles and during the cancer in the spring of 1985, he laughed and said, “What would you rather do, lie in a hospital bed full of tubes or have a standing ovation from 2800 people each night?”

The last gift Yul gave to the world during his living years was the public service announcement he made concerning smoking.  In this 30 second recording he states that as this announcement is air, he is already dead, and he died from smoking 5 packs of cigarettes a day in his younger years.  He states flatly, “Don’t smoke, it’s suicide.  If you smoke, quit; if you don’t smoke, don’t start.”  The announcement aired only a short time before networks took it off the air.  Television audiences complained that it was depressing and commercial sponsors felt it damaged the sale of their products.  How many smokers might have quit in the last 10 years had this announcement continued to air?  The Yul Brynner Head and Neck Cancer Foundation is currently working to return this announcement to television as well as introduce it in movie theaters so that the present generation of young people will have exposure to it.  Today’s current statistics show that 85% of the cases of head and neck cancer are caused by smoking.

Part of the mission of The Foundation is to continue support of basic clinical research in the fields of head and neck surgical oncology and plastic and reconstructive surgery.  During the past 20 years many advances have been made in resecting head and neck cancers.  In addition, better ways are being developed to cosmetically and functionally replace defects from surgery.  For the past nine years Dr. George Sission, Sr., and Dr. Peter Constantino have been pioneers in extending the limits of surgical resection in order to remove the hazards apparent in malignant tumors.  Both men have academic rank at Chicago’s Rush-Presbyterian and New York’s Mt. Sinai medical centers, respectively, and both are practicing head and neck surgeons.  Their research, funded by the Foundation, was developed to find improved techniques that would significantly restore form and function to the patient recovering from head and neck surgery.  Additional research to improve the basic procedures of these techniques continues.

The Foundation also highlights patient advocacy concerns, particularly concerns of young patients and their families; of life threatening illnesses; and the coping skills required to deal with facial difference which may result from surgery/treatment to the head and neck area.  Yul and George had often spoken of building a Head and Neck Institute in Chicago so that patients would have one place to go for state of the art diagnosis, treatment, and support services.  At the present time the Foundation is planning to develop a pilot project in the Chicago area which will provide special kinds of support that head and neck cancer patients need.  In addition, the Foundation plans to develop a national referral system for the location specialty care.

As I get to know Kathy Brynner better, and get to know Yul through the many tapes of his interviews, the book he wrote entitled, Bring Forth the Children, and the collection of stories from those who knew him personally, I marvel at the elasticity and the grit in a person who allowed himself to cope with change, and with being “different.”  Yul often quoted the last lines of his famous soliloquy: Perhaps there is a message in this for us all.  “Everyday I try to live for one more day.  Everyday I do my best for one more day.  But...Is.... A...Puzzlement!”

Yul Brynner cared very much about his world and the people in it.  He wanted to leave this world a better place than when he found it.  In one of his final interviews with David Hartman on Good Morning America in the spring of 1985 he said that as he retired the role of the king he felt that 90% of his life’s work was still ahead.  At the Yul Brynner Head and Neck Cancer Foundation, we feel we have been given the opportunity to continue his work.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Look Up, Look Way Up


Photo by Arthur Nelson Trever, 1933 Chicago World's Fair.
A Divorce Followed by Breast Cancer
by
Lois Trever

Janet and her husband decided to divorce after their two years in the Philippines; it was a very painful decision.  A short time after Janet and the children returned, she called to say there was some suspicion of breast cancer.  Not long after that, she asked me to come take care of the children during her hospitalization.

There were lists on the side of the refrigerator telling me how to cope.  As always, Janet had built a large army of true friends who were ready to help.  When Janet came home, folks brought food--one big man had, himself, baked two pies.  The refrigerator and cupboards were well stocked.

It was a very pretty house, rented from a minister.  There were swings in the backward, roller skates, swimming lessons on the calendar.  Both children, especially Sarah, were eager to show me a beautiful cemetery just back of the back yard.  We three walked there several times every day.  Sarah, will of the wisp as she was, would dance and skip ahead around a corner and disappear only to be found in a little while, full length on her back on a tombstone, long blond hair draped over the stone.  Andy was more likely to be riding his two wheeler bike off on an intersecting lane.  I don't know if I am imparting the sweet but eerie circumstances as they affected me.

The time for Janet's breast surgery arrived quickly.  The children went off for a day at a friends house.  I drove to the hospital.  When Janet came back from surgery there came her wonderful friends to be sure she could faintly hear spiritual music.  They came in many numbers, each with something comforting to bring and to do.  I found myself at the door of the room and decided to go out and walk a bit in the fresh air.  As I walked tears broke through, quickly becoming an uncontrollable torrent.  I climbed into the car but then came more tears of helplessness and sorrow.  I remembered I was near the office of Janet's favorite friends Meryl Tullis, a motherly figure in Janet's life. 

Meryl came to the door, invited me in and brought coll water and soda crackers.  I felt her concern and understanding.  As the weakening sobs continued she said, "Lois, look up, look way up."  I did so and realized that my uncontrollable tears had stopped.  There is a magic made up of actual knowledge of anatomy that stops the tears and sadness when we look up, "way up," as Meryl said.  I have often used Meryl's magic to help me.

Before I returned home Janet and I had a few happy times together, including times all four of us walked or rode bicycles in the quiet cemetery, visited by no one but us.

Sarah, Janet, Andy during that terrible/wonderful year.
Odd, my own Good Year shot last month over Daytona.  Guess its in my blood.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

La Mujer Salvaje: Sonia Velasquez



Here's another remarkable "Wild Woman" in the media, though I may need a translator.  Sonia Velasquez,  originally from Colombia, refers to herself as a philanthropic journalist and a social activist: "I make a TV segment to create social awareness showing the initiatives that are making a difference in different parts of the world." 

In her own words (Source: Creative Caribbean Network):

I currently produce and present the radio show "Uniendo Mundos" "Bridging Worlds" aired on Caracol Radio Miami 1260 AM every Wednesday at 1:30 PM interviewing people who work to alleviate the pain of others.

In 2010 I produced the lifestyle series 'Dolce Vita a lo latino' TV Show, an adventure with the spirit of the Latin people building their dreams and changing the world. Stories with style and intensity presented with action, surprises and more. 'Dolce Vita a lo latino' was broadcasted in HolaVision, 12.2 digital in Palm Beach, USA.

As a Colombian journalist I am devoted to helping others. I am a peace activist who advocates for a fair world working from social media using video as a tool to express my vision.


While I saw no reference to personal information (such as any damage to her left eye), it's clear she embraces a patch lifestyle.  Seems like an understatement, she OWNS it!

Check out her cute logo:


I did see a testimonial add on the Eye Patch Store website, so if you'd like to order a similar black patch, she claims they're the most comfortable.  

From her website:



From YouTube:


Ellie likes this one because it has horses:


Photo Credit: http://www.soniavelasquez.com/
Video Credit: youtube.com

Friday, March 25, 2011

Strawberry Friday: Tree



Tree

I am no longer afraid of mirrors where I see the sign of the Amazon,
the one who shoots arrows.

There was a fine line across my chest where a knife entered,
but now a branch winds about the scar and travels from arm to heart.

Green leaves cover the branch, grapes hang there and a bird appears.

What grows in me now is vital and does not cause me harm.

I think the bird is singing.

I have relinquished some of the scars.

I have designed my chest with care given to an illuminated manuscript.

I am no longer ashamed to make love.

Love is a battle I can win.

I have a body of a warrior who does not kill or wound.

On the book of my body, I have permanently inscribed a tree.


Mom writes: Someone in AVANTA gave me a great poster picture of a bare breasted woman who had apparently had a mastectomy and then a beautiful vine tattooed all across her scars.  I loved it and hung it in my bedroom.  Sometime, over the years, I would hear my kids explaining my strange collection of art to their friends while they were passing through my room.

[yes, I can confirm the poster was hung prominently and proudly, and took some getting used to]


Photograph by Halla Hammid, words by Deena Metzger, poster design by Shiela Levrant de Bretteville.
Image credit: Deena Metzger, as viewed on http://www.fawi.net/BC/heroines.html
Text viewed at http://www.donnellycolt.com/catalog/humrightposter.html

Friday, March 18, 2011

Strawberry Story: Do not stand at my grave and weep


Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there I do not sleep
Do not stand at my grave and mourn
I am not there I have been born

I am the four strong winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there I do not sleep
Do not stand at my grave and mourn
I am not there I have been born

I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain

When you wake in the morning hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight
I am the soft starlight at night

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there I do not sleep
Do not stand at my grave and mourn
I am not there I have been born

I LOVE this poem.  I first learned it as a song in Silver and Burgundy Singers at Blevins Junior High.  I heard it again at Virginia Satir's memorial in Crested Butte in 1988 (photo above is from her balloon releasing in 1987 one year earlier from http://satirtraining.org/training/general_information).  And of course I think of it every time I see a diamond glint on snow or need my own morning uplifting rush.

Authorship of the poem is an interesting divergent story.  Read website of authorship debated for more information.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Wild Women: Lily Charles

An agoraphobic, alcoholic, ex-synchronized swimmer.
One of the most creative characters to don a patch was Lily Charles, aunt of Charlotte "Chuck" Charles on Pushing Daisies.  The show's protagonist was a boy who discovers his gift to bring the dead back to life.  The gift has rules, one being he can never touch the re-living again or they will drop dead from the slightest contact with his skin.  The plot thickens as Ned grows up and brings his childhood crush "Chuck" back to life.  Then what else, but they run around solving crimes. 

Like "Heart to Heart" meets "Murder She Wrote" meets Grease.


The Darling Mermain Darlings.  I'd have taken Ellie to see them!
Enter Chuck's aunt Lily Charles, one part of the ex-synchronized swimming duo the Darling Mermaid Darlings.  Lily, played by Swoosie Kurtz, lost her eye to a cat box accident and wears beautiful, decorative patches. 
At the end of the series (spoiler alert) I find I have more in common with Charlotte.  Lily is not her aunt, she's her (dum dum dum) MOTHER!  Let's hear it for the one-eye moms!  Alright, this mom is fairly twisted.  And to be a nit pick, mom could never put her head underwater without an industrial strength facemast for fear her ocular cavity would fill with water and she'd drown.  That aside, the Darling Mermaid Darlings have elegant style and fluid moves that would have filled mom's eye with envy. 

Check out the cool patches:



Lily Charles before Early-Mid-Middle-Morning Prayer.

Shock at seeing Chuck alive.








Mom never saw the show, but one thing she would have loved was the frequent treat of Kristen Chenoweth or Greene bursting into song.  Mom loved herself a musical.  Check out the Sound of Music, Birdhouse in Your Soul, or Morning Has Broken to fall in love with the show yourself.

Swoosie Kurtz on playing one-eyed, agoraphobic, vodka-holic, "Bette Davis meets Clint Eastwood":


Video of Birdhouse in Your Soul (can not RESIST a They Might Be Giants reference):




I can't get the Morning Has Broken segment to link, but you can find it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jv0klnEAZmM


Friday, March 11, 2011

Strawberry Story: The Little Prince



Taming of the fox.

It's cheating to use a whole book for Strawberry Friday, but I can't help it.  Mom introduced me to the book, and I have made it required reading of my friends in my twenties. I don't just read the story, I collect it.  I have purchased or been gifted translations from all over the world inclding the original French, Mandarin, Hungarian, Swedish, Spanish, and Hindi.  With Joann Sfar's version, I am now able to share it with my daughter who loves it in her own right. 

Ellie's favorite part, introduction of the rose.
This graphic version of The Little Prince is by Joann Sfar, adapted from the original by Antoine de Saint-Exupery.  Transplated by Sarah Ardizzone and color by Brigette Findakley 2010.
For our wish list- check out this video of a cute pop-up version!

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Ribbon Check: What Color Are You?

I had no idea there were so many ribbons to promote cancer awareness....

From the Choose Hope website:


Ribbon colors and meanings from http://www.choosehope.com/
 So mom could have chosen from lavender, pink, gold, burgundy/ivory, and I'm not sure about her neuroblastoma.  At first I thought grey, but thanks to the exhaustive awareness list on the Personalized Cause website, gold should cover it.   Come to think of it, considering the spread by the end I might as well order up the color wheel. 



From http://www.choosehope.com/ 

Reminds me too of all the colored bracelets we wore in school, stacked up our wrists almost to our elbows.  Madonna: early supporter against Melanoma?




More than raising awareness, these kinds of products let people feel like they're doing something, part of something, that can often feel so helpless.  In the spirit of deliberating over this new information of so many causes, pardon as I share some random musings.

1.  Not a fan of the black.  If I had to pick a cause, I'd want it to be bright and beautiful.  Melanoma = black?  Murder?  How bleak! 

2.  Ditto for grey.  Brain cancer = grey.  Seems like grey matter issue, so makes sense.  Grey can also be for lead poisoning, allergies, or diabetes. 

3.  There is a lot going on for orange.  Putting world hunger and feral cats into the same band category doesn't seem like a good idea.  Is there peer review for these colors? 

4.  Pearl, you are a cheater and are gray (lung cancer).  Same goes for you silver.  Interesting that you can combine them for different meanings, ie pearl next to white for non-smoker lung cancer awareness.

5.  When in doubt, wear red.  Seems to cover the most causes.

6.  I did not realize that Native American Repatriation had an awareness band: turqouis.

7.  Indigo seems to be wide open.  If you have a cause, claim it now!

8.  I didn't think about it before, but are these bands international?  There are many national interests represented for some of the colors.  For example, Save Darfur (green), Ukranian Orange Revolution of 2004, and Canadian Cancer Society is yellow.

9.  Brown, I have some issues.  Anti-tobacco causes seem to go for brown.  I get it, but again, if you're against tobacco something brighter might do.

10.  Whatever I think of the color band/ribbon system, it gets points for being open and inclusive.  I like the move towards combination colors.  How about patterns?  Maybe leopard print!

Me?  I'm a plum. 

What color are you?

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Chapter 5: I Am Woman Hear Me Roar


Mom says, "I went around the house the next week singing Helen Reddy's "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar."  What follows I find hard to believe and understand.  Maybe others can empathize.

In her own words:

Somehow part of it was exhilarating.  I began a water aerobic exercise program at the YMCA just days out of the hospital.  The dressing flowed out of the top of the bathing suit as I swam with my head above water.  Two weeks out of the hospital I began the masters program and a counseling internship placement in nearby school systems.  I felt I had no more time to give the medical world.  I did very well in my classes that were in the evening; the girl next door would come over to babysit my school-aged children.  Being in a counseling milieu is a great place to be during a major life transition, and I felt I handled all of my issues up front the best I knew how.

Now this I sadly believe, and so timely to our own time:

I did not pick up a dating and social life afterwards, and it was clear that being in the midst of a divorce during a mastectomy was a tricky process in terms of self esteem and body image.  I had to stop the divorce proceeding because I was not insurable without the military, and could only begin it again after I had been hired the next year as a school counselor. 

Friday, March 4, 2011

Strawberry Story: Lyrics to an Unknown Song



If I lie inside the covers
With the darkened warm of breathing-only me
And I curl up like a kitten,
Closing all the blankets very carefully,
Perhaps the goblins will not find me,
Will not touch me, maybe even go away

If I climb onto a tree limb
With the shiny leaves in bunches
Hiding me
And I never move to stir them,
Sitting motionless and waiting quietly,
Perhaps the bullies will not find me,
Will not touch me, maybe even go away.

If I watch a funny movie
With lovely couples all surrounding me,
And I eat the salty popcorn
And the candy
Till I'm laughing painfully,
Perhaps the worries will not find me,
Will not touch me, maybe even go away.

If I only talk politely
To the friends who never fair
Inviting me
And I skim the paper lightly,
Glancing at the news reports just casually,
Perhaps the questions will not find me,
Will not touch me, maybe even go away.

If I tumble in the grasses
With another who pretends he's loving me,
And we exchange the little gesture,
Little phrases of the way
Love ought to be,
Perhaps the loneliness won't find me,
Will not touch me, maybe even go away.

If I lie inside the covers with the darkened warm of breathing-only me,
And I curl up like a kitten,
Closing all the blankets very carefully,
Perhaps my life will jnot find me,
Never touch me, Maybe even go away, go a way.

** This is a song mom heard in South Dakota in the late 1970s.  She didn't know who wrote it, but included it in her book as it represented to her the option of hiding from life, in her words "the choice that is always there and that at painful times often looks the most inviting."  Do you recognize it?  Let me know!

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Chapter 5: Lightening


 Lightening by Ramona Handel

"Lightening won't strike in the same place twice.  Janet won't have cancer.  If I think positive, it won't happen."

These were the thoughts repeating through my mind like a mantra as Janet and I waited for her biopsy results.

WRONG!  Cancer can strike twice or more in the same person and positive thinking isn't enough to change the diagnosis.

Janet's Air Force doctor advised a radical mastectomy.  I knew a modified radical mastectomy was just as effective and less disfiguring with fewer medical problems later.  I also believe the military medical system was behind the private medical system in the "latest treatments" available.

Get another consult, outside the military.

The diagnosis was the same, the surgery was modified, and performed by one of the best surgeons available in the community.  It was well known in the private medical community that he had no personal support to offer a patient but instead had great surgeon's hands.

As I visited Janet in the hospital during her recovery from surgery, a tape recorder playing chanting in the background, little did I know I would walk a similar path in the near future.

January 1981 I saw the same doctor for a lump on my breast.  He examined me, my mammogram was negative, so was the diagnosis.  I skipped out of his office into the sunshine of that crisp Dakota day with feelings of joy and gratitude.  I did not follow my own advice and get a second opinion, after all the news was good and what I wanted to hear.  Why would I ask for a different diagnosis?  I was making a mistake.

My focus was elsewhere.  I had been divorced for a year now and still adjusting to such a huge shift in our family.  I was beginning a life long process of coming out as a lesbian and staying sober.  My immune system was weakened from high stress and in retrospect I was a candidate for cancer or any stress related illness.

Eleven months later a needle biopsy of the lump showed cancer.  I had a mastectomy and my recovery was enhanced by the love and support of friends and family.  Two months before I surgery I had met and fallen in love while on a trip to Mexico.  That was a strong healing factor through my surgery, recovery, and life.  Love has a way of making life instantly more previous, as does cancer.

After the surgery and three months of chemotherapy the cancer has stayed in remission.  Not because I have made great efforts to avoid carcinogenic substances.  I eat anything and quit smoking many times each year.  In that sense I am a terrible gambler and most definitely addicted.

Cancer has been a challenge and I have been more challenged by accepting my homosexuality, accepting my parents' nonacceptance of my sexual orientation, and the resulting periods of depression and despair.  I believe I have learned to cope in better ways and the despair is in the past.

My family has come to a form of silent acceptance in sixteen years and although they do not talk about my orientation I occasionally say something about a gay or lesbian friend and there is obvious discomfort and a change in subject.  We have stopped fighting over the issue that should be a non-issue in a healthier system.

My sons are of another generation.  My younger son has come out about his lesbian mother to his friends and has talked about how difficult that is.  My older son talks freely with me about his homophobia and that he can't tell anyone about "it."

I think it is not my faith that has carried me thus far but rather the caring of friends, lovers, and family.

What I am grateful for was best said by Yeats.  "Think where man's glory most begins and ends and say my glory was, I had such friends."

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Chapter 5: The Paprika Pixie - Round 2 Begins

I'm going to skip ahead here.  The important thing to know is that at then end of Chapter 4 mom is feeling like a top, brand-new VW model fresh off the factory floor.  She's got her man, her children, her purpose, and her spiritual quest.  A page into Chapter 5, she feels like this:



My Body Looks Like Our Beat-up Old V.W. Bug
[she writes in pen below "But I'm still running"]

In Mom's own words:

I felt a lump in my breast while taking a shower soon after we settled into Rapid City, and I called the base medical hospital that still covered me until the divorce would be complete in the next few months.  They answered that it would take a long time for a new patient appointment, so I dropped the wildcard of having had terminal cancer as a child, and got an immediate appointment that day.  I was smiling to myself how clever I was to have learned how to work the system.

I went in for the appointment, had a biopsy the next day.  As I stayed over night the surgeon came to talk about how it was undoubtedly benign from its type, and we talked as two colleagues while I described what I had done for the military medical group in the Philippine Islands.  The next day, as my friend Ramona came to pick me up, I was taken completely by surprise with the news of the lab report of cancer.  My friend Ramona was picking me up; she and her radiologist husband helped set me up with consults in the Rapid City medical community once the young military surgeon said he would do a radical mastectomy immediately because that was the surgery he knew best.  My friend Ramona, who was picking me up, made an intervention at this point.  She recommended getting other medical opinions ASAP.

The surgeon I chose found that the medullary carcinoma was not in any of my lymph nodes and didn't require follow-up treatment.  So, I again felt that the ordeal was over and probably a by-product of the divorce and living in a foreign country under immense tension for the last two years.

After the surgery I came home and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror without the bandages on.  I had staple marks across the left side of my chest where a breast had been.  I was turned-off by my appearance, but I had two saving thoughts.  One was that I looked like our beat-up old Volkswagen bug that we drove for years [affectionately named the Paprika Pixie].  It, too, had been scarred, survived many close calls, looked like a mushed aluminum can at times.  But this vehicle of my body was still getting me where I wanted to go, still delivering me to what came next. 

Friday, February 25, 2011

Strawberry Story: Wild Strawberries

Wild Strawberry viewed on MamaKopp Etsy account.

Wild Strawberries
By Shel Silverstein

Are Wild Strawberries really wild?
Will they scratch an adult, will they snap at a child?
Should you pet them, or let them run free where they roam?
Could they ever relax in a steam-heated home?
Can they be trained to not growl at the guests?
Will a litterbox work or would they leave a mess?
Can we make them a Cowberry, herding the cows,
Or maybe a Muleberry pulling the plows,
Or maybe a Huntberry chasing the grouse,
Or maybe a Watchberry guarding the house,
And though they may curl up at your feet oh so sweetly,
Can you ever feel that you trust them completely?
Or should we make a pet out of something less scary,
Like the Domestic Prune or the Imported Cherry,
Anyhow, you’ve been warned and I will not be blamed
If your Wild Strawberry cannot be tamed.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Wild Women: Glamor Girls

What is it about an eye patch that makes a woman mysterious, sultry, even sexy?  No doubt an eye patch means something different on a woman than it does a man.

Check out these glamor girls:



Heidi


Rihanna




Bette Davis


Madonna

Then again...

Ugly Betty

Friday, February 18, 2011

Strawberry Story: Pirate Story


Pirate Story

Three of us afloat in the meadow by the swing.
Three of us aboard in the basket on the lea.
Winds are in the air, they are blowing in the spring,
And waves are on the meadow
like the waves there are at sea.

Where shall we adventure, to-day that we're afloat,
Wary of the weather and steering by a star?
Shall it be to Africa, a-steering of the boat,
To Providence, or Babylon, or off to Malabar?

Hi! but here's a squadron a-rowing on the sea-
Cattle on the meadow a-charging with a roar!
Quickly, and we'll escape them, they're as mad as they can be,
The wicket is the harbor and the garden is the shore.


Illustrated by Myrtle Sheldon

Oh my God...the first ever pirate story that actually resonated with memories of my mother!  From Loie's copy of A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Chapter 4: The heart of the matter

Collage from the Eye Patch Quilt.
The question mom poses throughout Chapter 4 to advocate for those with facial difference is: what's it like having a one-eyed mom?  What do people without facial differences not understand about how differences on the outside translate when behind closed doors?  Read on in her words:

Having been an only child myself, I was happy that Andy and Sarah would now have each other as they experienced the uniqueness that was ours.  I often would run around the house in the early mornings or late evenings without the patch on because the elastic caused pressure on my head.  I can generally wear them 3 to 4 times before the sewing the elastic tighter again so that they don't fall down on my nose.  The warmth of my head and hair oils must do the loosening over spans of hours.  Seldom does one fit just right without being too tight or too loose.  There is very little tolerance there for exact fit.

I have learned that it is not unusual for a physically challenged person to take off a prosthesis or health-aid when they are safely at home.  It creates a dichotomy of what is appropriate for the outside world and what is only okay when no neighbors or friends are over.  The kids got to see me running for the upstairs closet that housed the patches when an early doorbell range or a dog had to be walked in a hurry.  They didn't find my appearance scary, but I knew their friends who might be spending the night would, so I had a double set of dress codes for myself.

Being a teacher, counselor, therapist type, I sometimes would ask them if it bothered them when everyone stared at us as I came to one of their school concerts, friends' birthday parties, or athletic events.  Usually they said "No," but did acknowledge that their school mates kept asking them what was wrong with their Mom and why she wore that funny thing.  I think it really helped to be open and give everyone an opportunity to talk about it.

Is this family photo from the 70s or what?

Don't worry- she tasked me with writing my own chapter on this years ago...

Friday, February 11, 2011

Strawberry Story: Goals for Me



Look familiar?  This poster has been, and is, a staple of therapists doors since the seventies.  Some people grew up with Peter Rabbit, Winnie the Pooh, or Holly Hobbie on their walls.  I got Virginia Satir.  It worked though, this poster formed the foundation of my relationships during formative years and is still my litmus test for friendship today.


Goals for Me

I want to love you without clutching,
appreciate you without judging, join you without invading,
invite you without demanding, leave you without guilt,
criticize you without blaming, and help you without insulting.
If I can have the same from you,
then we can truly meet and enrich each other.
-Virginia Satir

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Chapter 4: Solstice Baby

My brother Andy and bewildered me.  Still sport those looks.

Moral of this next story- never take a bet against my mom.  In her own words:

Sarah was born three years later, and again an incredible bonding and world vision resulted the night afterward.  I wanted to be able to live in that state of being forever.  She also was induced 3 weeks after my due date.  I wanted her born on June 21, the summer solstice, but the obstetrician induced her the morning of the 20th to better fit his schedule; he said he was sure she would arrive that day.  She was born at five minutes past midnight on the 21st.  After announcing she was a healthy beautiful little girl, he laughed and said, "You'd do anything to win a bet!"

Mementofacts from my baby book:

Announcement in the base newsletter.

Standard military congratulations letter from Sen. George McGovern*.

*In an odd turn of events, George McGovern now lives in my town!  He was walking behind me just the other day.  I thought to stop and turn and thank him for his letter but decided to wait for the next time.