Protected: Role Models
Below is a link to my mother’s blog, which is fabulous by the way, about my Aunt Gloria:
http://martasmemoriesetc.blogspot.com/2012/06/no-easy-way-to-say-this.html
(You need to cut and paste the address into your browser to view. Sorry, I still don’t know how to use Word Press.)
Yesterday, my mother’s sister, Gloria died unexpectedly from a heart attack. Gloria and her three daughters are remarkable women and I wanted to share a bit about them as an expression of my love and admiration. One of the things that I tell families is that death is one of the really hard parts of normal life. But some deaths are so much harder than others because they occur outside of the typical life cycle of dying in old age. Gloria and her daughters, Catherine, Portia, and Beth have lost more than their fair share of loved ones over the years and a number of them passed at young ages from horrible diseases. As a group, they have lost two husbands, two fathers, two mothers, a son, and a brother.
Gloria grew up during the end of the Great Depression and throughout World War II. She was the first of six children born to my grandparents. There was only a five year gap between Gloria’s birth and the birth of my mother, Martha who was the 4th born. Gloria relished being the first born and strove to be a leader among her siblings. Like her sisters would after her, she showed a great deal of performing arts talent, especially singing. As a young girl and for a number of years afterward, she performed on local KJR radio as part of Uncle Frank’s Kiddie Hour. I have a copy of a publicity picture of Frank and all of the kid performers. Gloria looks about 5 or 6, is saluting the camera,decked out in the finest Shirley Temple regalia including tap shoes. We have a recording of one of her performances. She was about 12 years old at the time and sang, Brazil. Gloria had quite the voice, clear, poised, and mature. It really is remarkable and a treasured record of the many talents in my family.
Gloria, her husband Norm, and their four children lived in Nevada for most of my childhood. They had lived in Seattle, but I don’t remember that time. So I didn’t see her often. But she had the charismatic force of personality that marked her prominently in my mind so it seemed like we saw her more than we did. Gloria was really funny and could be great fun. She was a great storyteller and was always ready to sing an impromptu song or do some of her Shirley Temple tap moves. She sang her whole life, at home, at church, on Uncle Frank’s, in college, with the Gilbert and Sullivan Society, and most recently, with the St. James Cathedral Choir after she moved back to the Seattle area. Gloria was also very educated. She had a Bachelor’s Degree in teaching. Her grandfathers had both been coal miners and her mother had ended school after grade 8 . A deeply emotional person with an oft wounded heart, Gloria could also be feisty and stubborn. I remember hearing about the time she was asked to leave the audience at one of the big Seattle theaters (the 5th Avenue I think) because she wouldn’t stop taking pictures of the performers. Any assumptions that security may have had about “little old ladies” would have been promptly dispelled. Aunt Gloria called me recently to offer her support regarding my cancer. She told a story of her own cancer (skin) doctor and how wonderful he was, which I have l learned from my mom is code for “young and handsome.” Gloria told me that after hearing that he was married she told him that she was disappointed because she had a number of young single women friends that she wanted him to meet. (I also have learned from my mom that this is a sly way of flirting with men who are too young for you and you are married anyway. Believe me on this. When I was a young unmarried woman, my mom used to tell young men, “You are so good-looking and nice. You should date my daughter.” Did she ever get one phone number? No. I rest my case.)
Catherine is the oldest of Gloria’s children. When we were growing up, she was the studious, serious, and responsible kid. She still is though her serious demeanor belies a fabulous sense of humor. Catherine has also surprised me with her love of performance and music. She has sung with a band and plays the guitar, which she took up as a full fledged grown up. Catherine has a successful public relations business. She is a highly involved and devoted mother to her teen son, Christian. When there’s work to be done, Catherine tends to take on the lion’s share of responsibility. Several years ago, Catherine, Christian, and her then husband, Rich joined one of our extended family camping trips. We were hiking and my mom noticed that Catherine was carrying a full backpack and Rich was lightly bounding down the trail, burden free. My mom said, “Catherine, do you always have to carry the back pack?” My mom’s question was based on years of observation. Catherine is a smart cookie so I’m sure she got the layers of meaning in my mom’s question. But Catherine has a great deal of restraint, which is somewhat rare in our extended family’s love of overt complaining and gossiping. So she said, “It’s okay, I like to carry the back pack.” Catherine also did a large amount of care taking of her brother, when he was dying of AIDS. Greg was in his early 30’s when he died. Greg was married at the time and I didn’t know his wife. Perhaps it was all too much for her or she couldn’t leave her job, I don’t know the context. But what I do know is that Catherine dropped everything to care for her brother in his last days.
Portia is the “middle daughter.” Unlike her sisters, she did not return to living in the Northwest. I rarely see her. What I do see is her art. Catherine has Portia’s artwork displayed in her home. It is gorgeous. My favorite painting for both artistic and sentimental reasons is “Aunt Blanche’s Garden”. Our Great Aunt Blanche may have only had an 8th grade education but she knew the botanical names of scores of plants and her garden was out of this world. Portia used abstract technique and a wonderful color sense to show the dynamic interplay of lush flowers and foliage, perfectly capturing Aunt Blanche’s garden as well as her personality. Another way I’ve kept in touch with Portia is through her lovely daughter, Alyssa. Alyssa is a young woman now and she has a degree of poise, independence, and maturity that inspires optimism about our young generation. The fact that as a young mother, Portia cared for her terminally ill husband while raising a daughter and went on to raise this lovely, intelligent, and talented young lady, is beyond impressive. Finally, Portia went back to school and is now working as a nurse. Her shift toward the healing arts is just beautiful.
Beth is the “baby” of the family. She and I are also peers since we are only 7 months apart in age. When we were kids, Beth had a heart full of gold and a head full of mischief. She was incredibly generous. I remember that she got into a small bit of trouble in he first job in an ice cream parlor because she made the scoops too big. She was always surprised that I was such a goodie goodie. She regaled me with tales of egging houses on Halloween and playing practical jokes on the sisters who taught her at the Little Flower School. I also learned from her that nuns sometimes keep Coors beer in their refrigerator. Scandal! Despite my nerdiness, we always had a good time together and she even visited me in the dorms when I was in college at U.W. Besides being really smart and funny like her sisters, Beth is someone to have around when there is a crisis. Like my husband, she possesses detailed knowledge of what to do in emergency situations. Beth is also very brave. Yesterday, while driving her family for a fun day to celebrating her three year old’s birthday, she saw that her mother was gravely ill, drove to a parking lot, pulled her mother out of her car to give her CPR, asked for help from strangers, while her kids were screaming in the car. That’s strength and heroism. That’s Beth.
I know I’ve left important facts out of this post. I know that all my cousins took care of their brother. I know that they were all wonderful daughters. They are all wonderful mothers. My cousins will be reuniting this weekend to plan Gloria’s funeral. I know that this is a hard time for them. The grief for their mom may bring back grief for their other loses, their dad, their brother, marriages, Portia’s husband. I’m so glad they have each other. They are intelligent, strong, and deeply loving women. I am also glad that they are so strong but I wish they didn’t have to be.
Protected: My oh my, not a wonderful day
I have a bit of a headache this morning. Yes, I had the wonderful news yesterday about my genetic test results. I really was quite elated. I’m still very happy about it deep down, but at the moment I am feeling a bit numb. I told a lot of parents about my cancer and a couple of teens. One of them is a girl I just started seeing again for counseling after a couple of year gap. Her mom just finished a really aggressive experimental treatment protocol for cancer (not breast). Ugh. This is not the kind of thing I wanted to have to tell her. The conversation went relatively well and we will see how it goes.
Yesterday, one of the parents I told got pretty teary eyed and another gave me a hug. I also received an email from a physician I know who works at Swedish who found out through the grapevine, had questions, offered help, and upon finding out who my physicians were, told me that he knew them and that I was in “excellent hands.”
Then there’s the constant support of friends and family who have been there for me through this as well as other ups and downs in my life. This last 12 months has been really the most challenging time in my life. (The non-cancer reasons will have to wait for coverage in a separate blog, but I’ll give you a hint. Parenting + teen girl.) Because of this, I do have a concern that comes up from time to time that I am really getting more from family and friends than I am giving back. But it is a manageable concern and I know that it is part of life and how we support one another. It’s not always equal.
So with all of this wonderful life affirming kindness, why the headache this morning? Well it’s not like I don’t see kindness every day because I really do. I think it’s in part because it underscores the gravity of my situation. Another part has to do with being a person who is more comfortable as a caretaker. Although I do like to be taken care of at times, I don’t like it to be my primary role. Finally, as a psychologist, we are trained to be caretakers and there are actual ethnics and laws around keeping our relationships with clients and their families professional. Legally, we are to required to avoid “multiple relationships”. In other words, the only relationship I am to have is to be their psychologist. I can’t be a friend (though I certainly know families with whom I would love to be friends with under different circumstances), I can’t do other business with clients (though I admit I bought Cub Scout popcorn from one of my former clients–he was right in front of the grocery store with a big smile on his face, it was for charity, he’s not roofing my house, I think I’ll be able to keep my license), etc. But because I help kids and their parents with issues close to the heart, the relationships I have, though professional, can also be very close. It’s a unique relationship, it can be an intimate relationship, but one without total reciprocity. The closest analogy is being a parent. As a parent, we have the responsibility to do the lion’s share of giving.
So, although I don’t want you to read this and think that I am fearing that by sharing my cancer status with families that I am being unethical, it is an awkward and uncomfortable experience. And there are a couple of kids who I think may have a particularly hard time with this. One of them I only see every 4-6 weeks, so she may be able to stay out of the loop. But the other kid I see on a weekly basis. I had my monthly consultation group with my psychologist friends/colleagues and I decided to hold off telling him unless I have to and certainly not until I have more information about my treatment plan.
My head is starting to feel a bit better. Thank you, Blog.
I’m so relieved. My genetic test results came back normal. Hooray! For my own self-centered reasons, I am happy because this means that removal of my ovaries will not be recommended. The genes (BRCA 1 & 2) put women at a 40% risk of ovarian cancer, in addition to the increased risk of breast cancer. Since ovarian cancer is very difficult to detect until it is fairly advanced, the 40% odds are kind of sobering. I’m relieved that my ovaries are “off the table” surgery wise.
The other reason I am relieved is that this means that family members, especially the young women in the family like my daughter and nieces do not need testing.
Hooray!
I’ve had a private practice since 2003. I am used to having a fair number of phone calls to make about scheduling appointments. Right now, the number of voice mails I have received has been reduced substantially. This is because on my voice mail greeting, I let people know that I will not be able to schedule any new patients until the fall of 2012. So, the phone calls are much more manageable and it saves me from having to explain my situation to people who would rather see if they can find someone with more immediate openings.
However, the former popularity of my office phone has transferred to my cell phone. Now I am inundated with calls for appointments for me with the physicians at Swedish Cancer Institute, test results, etc.
In this disruptive time, it is oddly comforting to identify some pattern of equilibrium in my life, even if it’s silly.
This picture is a reminder that not everything that is abnormal is deadly. Normal is just a mathematical term to mean “average”. This is a picture of a tulip from last year, which bloomed with a little extra tulip on the right. It was a beauty and it re-bloomed this year, but without the floral side car.
I remember in grad school, my professor, David Galinsky told us that some things were “deviant but not pathological”. I know that my cancer does not fall into that category but for whatever reason, it is nice to remind myself of this fact. So to all you not pathological deviants out there, I salute you!
Okay, my surgery has been rescheduled for 6/27. (No medical problems, just logistics.) Surgery is at 9 am with a check in time of 6 am! Three hours! It’s not international travel, people!
John says they are just making sure I am too tired to accidentally eat anything on the day of surgery. Maybe he’s right. I say that they are making me wake up at an ungodly hour only to inconvenience me in their silly quest to save my life! (I kid, for those of you who do not entirely get my humor.)
Well, back to work today after the weekend. I had a full schedule. I’ve also had to let more folks know about my health status as it is wreaking havoc with my work schedule. I see about 150 patients a year. I primarily do testing these days and a little counseling. This allows me to come home earlier in the day since kids I counsel need to come during the after school hours whereas I only need to see a kid a couple of times for testing so it is easier for them to miss some school. I have 16 assessments scheduled between now and the end of the summer. I would have more but I stopped scheduling people once I diagnosed. I usually have about a 6-10 week wait for an initial appointment but now I have a voice mail that says that there is at least a 4 month wait for an initial appointment. That’s cut down on the phone messages considerably as has telling my main referral sources that I have a four month wait. There are some folks who still want to see me because I was strongly recommended. While it is mostly flattering, I do feel a little bit of pressure to live up to “the hype,” especially given the wait. “You mean, I waited 4 months for this?” Okay, this doesn’t keep me up at nights but I do think about it a little.
Anyway, between the 16 kids I am assessing, the 8 ongoing counseling kids, and the parents of kids I’ve seen in the past that will contact me over the summer to reconnect, I’ll probably end up needing to discuss my health with about 30 families. A couple of the kids I see already have moms with serious medical conditions. I’m not sure how mine will fit into the mix. Sometimes, things I think will bother kids don’t and other times I am surprised by something I thought wasn’t a big deal, which throws a kid for a loop. In any event, counseling can be a very special relationship. I will try my best so that kids and parents don’t feel like they need to worry about me but there are limits to what I can do. I will focus on being as upbeat and optimistic as I can be. I am also hopeful that parents will model a positive attitude. I know that health issues scare a lot of people and sometimes people who are scared unintentionally spread their fear like a contagion. So far, most families have responded in very positive and hopeful ways. I’ve gotten a couple of responses that have raised my eyebrows. Fortunately, I feel pretty solid emotionally so I felt bemusement rather than distress.
On another note, I find myself waking up each morning thinking “I have cancer” not exactly in a distressed way (though these are not pleasant thoughts) but similar to the way I’ve experienced other changes in my status such as the first few weeks of being married (“I’m a wife”) or of being a mom (“I’m a parent”). I’ll keep the marriage and the kid but I hope to soon be able to get rid of the cancer.





