Category Archives: Life & Death

You Are What You Eat…Really!

I’ve been thinking about my brain a lot lately.  Why?

I lost both of my brothers to brain tumors, one of them just one year ago.  And I just got a chance to see Jill Bolte Taylor, a neuro anatomist, talk about her 8 year recovery from a massive stroke.

So, what’s been on my mind, literally, is how does this thing up there work and how can I keep from growing a brain tumor?

The answer that seems to rising to the surface these days is surprising.  You are what you eat and your food choices could be killing you.

Dr. William Li, President, Medical Director, and Co-founder of the Angiogenesis Foundation, works with other well-known scientists and physicians a unique approach to fighting and in some cases, preventing, some of the most debilitating diseases affecting men, women and children including cancer and stroke.

Angiogenesis, the growth of new capillary blood vessels, is a naturally occurring process in the human body.  But when capillary blood vessel growth is inhibited or stimulated, disease processes can begin.   Researchers at the Angiogenesis Foundation are successfully using drug therapies to treat cancer but despite tremendous successes, Dr. Li feels that instead of treating the disease, we should be preventing it.

One weapon we can use to try to restore balance to blood vessel growth is food.  In fact, over a year ago, during a TED talk, Dr. Li released a list of foods that might help in the fight against disease, foods that Dr. Li says, “…cut off the supply lines and beat cancer at its own game.”   His theory is that we can eat to starve cancer.

So, what’s on the doctor’s menu?

Blueberries, strawberries, tomatoes, raspberries, red grapes, dark chocolate, olive oil, tuna, green tea and red wine, soy, kale, licorice, bok choy and grapefruit among other foods.  The point is that what we put in our mouths makes a difference not just in how we feel, how much we weigh, how much energy we have but in how our bodies stay healthy and fight disease.

So thanks to Dr. Li and the Angiogenesis Foundation and a tip of the hat to nutritionist Victor Lindlahr, who in 1942 published  You Are What You Eat: how to win and keep health with diet, who knew, 70 years ago that we really are what we eat.

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Speaking of Strokes & Life

When Jill Bolte Taylor speaks, a whole lot of people listen.

She is a phenomenal speaker.  She strides on stage, no notes, no teleprompter and for 70 minutes, holds the attention of the  audience.  Animated, funny, and so crystal clear when talking about neuroscience and our brains that I get it,

Dr. Taylor is a joy to listen to.  She should be difficult to understand, a Harvard trained neuro anatomist, a pointy-headed intellectual with credentials that would make most of us take a step back.  Instead, she is someone who draws people in, makes them laugh and opens up her world and her life to us.

Her rise to fame has been quick; her journey to get there was incredibly difficult and long.

In 1996, Dr. Taylor,  had a massive stroke.  This brilliant scientist was so disabled that she could not walk, talk, read, write or recall any of her life.  Putting on shoes and socks became a challenge.  Figuring out why 1 + 1 equaled 2 took her years.  All linear processing was gone. For many, this would have been the end; for Dr. Taylor, it was the beginning of an amazing transformation.

All in all, it was 8 years before Dr. Taylor could reclaim her life, herself.  But in returning to her life as a neuro anatomist, she brought something else with her.  This left-brain scientist was now totally, completely in touch with her right brain.

During her now famous TED Talk, Dr.Taylor describes the two halves of her brain warring for her attention – left brain screaming, “…hey, you’re having a stroke.”  Right brain saying, “Hey, wow, we are perfect, we are whole and we are beautiful.  And we’re all connected.”

Jill Bolte Taylor is a medical phenomenon because she defied the common diagnoses that says you only have 3 months, 6 months 12 months to recover functions like speech and walking.  She is also a phenomenon because she returned to her life changed by the spiritual experience of connecting with her right brain.  Scientist and artist live together inside her now.

She is among Time Magazine’s 2008 top 100 most influential people in the world.  Also appearing as  a guest on the Oprah Winfrey Soul Series and on Charlie Rose’s show, Dr. Taylor’s life caught the attention of Hollywood mega-director, Ron Howard who is making a movie based on her book, My Stroke of Insight.

Spend 18 minutes with her on TED and if you get a chance, read her book or see her speak or do both.   Or just answer her question:  You are the life force power of the universe; how will you spend your energy today?

 

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Filed under Book Reviews, Healthcare, Life & Death, Medical Writing

How Does Healing Work?

Don’t you wish that you knew the answer to that question?  Or just a bit of the answer?

I know I do.  I am healing.  This I know for sure.  What I don’t know is exactly how it is happening.

My medical team says I have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSS) and…oddly enough, whiplash.  Both are being treated but not by traditional, Western medicine.  No prescriptions have been written for mood elevators or muscle relaxers.  Instead, the prescription has been a combination of:

  1. Osteopathic manipulation
  2. Psycho-therapy
  3. Mind-Body healing

Woven into these three practices are homework assignments.

When Dr. Gajdos said go forth and journal, it didn’t sound like a big deal.  But over the course of writing 3 pages, long hand, every day, discoveries occur, insights reveal themselves.  Reasons for behaviors become clearer and paths to changing the behaviors stretch out before you.

Dr. Gajdos also asked me to read  A Year To Live .  It’s a small book written by a man whose life has been spent counseling dying people.  Steve Levine’s advice is to work on dying, right now, seems depressing but working through anger, sorrow and pain, now, is freeing me up to live in the present moment.

Reading Being Peace came from Dr. Torregiani. Thich Nhat Hanh is an author whose writings are not easy but whose messages are clear and powerful.  His teaching is that of most Buddhist monks – the here and now – the present moment are all we have.  It is the way he shares his message that makes it easier to understand, easier to practice.

Reading myself came from Jodi Hutchinson.  Jodi is a highly trained Physician’s Assistant, at least she was.  She worked for one of the top Cardiologists in Delaware and was his “right hand man.”  When the Cardiology team from Christiana Care traveled to China and other Asian countries, Jodi began a journey of her own.  Her journey has led her to healing with her hands and her heart.

Learning to settle inside your own life, your own soul, your own skin, facing your fears, walking through your pain to the other side, to the light.  That is what all these activities are designed to do.  What’s beautiful about them is they don’t require new running shoes or spandex shorts.  All they require is desire.  And these activities are working for me, healing me, making it possible for the slow, sure stitching back together of my soul to happen.  To my team I say, “Namaste.”

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Life & Death & Life Again

Here it is.  I am still alive.  I brushed up against death in March…and again in April.

I almost lost my sister to medical error; I almost lost myself to another man’s attempted suicide.

Damage done, you say.  Move on.  But getting out of bed in the morning, putting one foot in front of the other,  that’s not living.  That’s just moving on.  So where do you go when everywhere you look you see the world as described by Joseph Campbell — loss…loss…loss?

Millions of people do it…but I won’t take a pill to make me “feel better.”  Why?  The pill masks what’s really broken, what’s really causing the pain.  I can bury my feelings like many others do but they will still be there, will burst forth at the worst possible time, will eat away at who I am and what I really do love about this world we live in.  So no pills.

What I will do — what I am doing — is take advantage of the very generous offer of my auto (and house) insurance company, Encompass.

Who would have thought that someone trying to commit suicide on your car is covered?  Not only does this company cover it but they hire warm, compassionate people to help you through whatever your particular accident was, real people who genuinely cared that I was being torn apart by the sound of a body hitting my car, crashing through glass, bouncing off the fender, rolling to the ground.  Hearing and seeing that sequence over and over and over again.

Encompass offered me some help.  They are paying for me to see a therapist.  Not just any therapists though.  And this is the hard part.  I had to find a therapist I couldn’t outsmart, out talk or out manage.  That may not sound too hard but trust me, it is.  If you have lived a few years (63) and you are pretty smart, pretty well-read and well-educated (thank you UCF and Villanova), you can get pretty good at dodging whatever it is that is dogging you.

So enter Dr. Kathleen Curzie Gajdos.  Quiet in a way that is impressive, gentle but pushy, demanding that I reach, stretch, open and feel all of it, everything that is changing my spiritual shape from a sphere to a triangle, trapezoid, rhomboid, pulling me out into corners that are dark and feel safe but are not.  She uses dream analysis (Jungian), color therapy, even a sand box where you create whatever you feel inside.  But mostly she uses her inquisitive nature, her years and years of experience and her sheer humanity to help you back to center and away from those small, dark places.

I have seen death but I am coming to life again,  Different, stronger even, but alive, nonetheless thanks to this magical healer and to an insurance company that still believes in helping you in your time of trouble.

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Sony Playstation Security Breach & How My Credit Card Companies Reacted

When the email from Sony arrived in my inbox my first reaction was  WHAT?

My personal information and that of 77 million other users was compromised.  Specifically, the email said, name, address (city, state, zip), country, email address, birth date, password and login, and handle/PSN online ID were taken.  The hacker may also have taken billing address and password security answers.

That’s enough information for ANYONE, even an over the hill writer like me, to be able to steal identity and start opening up credit card accounts.  But that’s not the worst news Sony delivered.  The email also said, “…while there is no evidence at this time that credit card data was taken, we cannot rule out the possibility.”

So, in a nutshell, me and 77 million other people were in the position of having our identities stolen, our credit cards used and our credit scores seriously damaged.  I hit the phone and called the companies of the only two credit cards I have.  The reactions of these companies could not have been more different.

Barclay’s MasterCard

ME – Explain, explain, explain that Sony had been hacked and I needed to change my password and I couldn’t get into the account.

Customer Service – Gee, I can’t help you with that.  And technical support  doesn’t open until 8AM.  Can you call back?

ME – I need help now.  I can’t get into my account.  I’m worried.  Is someone from Security available to help me?

Customer Service – I’m sorry the Security team doesn’t start until 8AM.  Can you call back?

ME – Oh, sure, fine.  I’ll call back in a few hours, after the hacker has opened a couple hundred accounts and charged a couple of thousand dollars to each.  REALLY?

Customer Service – Really…sorry.

American Express

ME – I am calling because my Sony account may have been hacked….

Customer Service –  We know all about this issue and we have set up a system to help our customers with it.

ME – Really?

Customer Service – Yes Ma’am.  We are offering to issue new credit cards with entirely different account numbers on them to any customer who is concerned.  We will pay to ship the new card via UPS and yours will arrive in 3 days.

ME – Really?

Customer Service – Yes Ma’am.  And we’ve stepped up account monitoring and will let you know if there is unusual activity.

ME – Really?

Personal Note

I have had an American Express card for more than 20 years and I willingly pay the annual fee because I know that the person on the other end of the phone is ALWAYS going to be ready, willing, able and available to help me whether I am asking about a charge, disputing a claim, or worried that my identity may have been stolen.  Always.

So which card would you want to own?

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Goats In The Hospital Halls

There a thousands of people working in the major metropolitan hospital my sister almost died in — many doing their jobs then going home at night.  And there are a handful of heroes in most hospitals, even this one.  But there are also goats, herds of them, wandering the halls, bleating their value to the world.  These goats graze at the top of the healthcare food chain; these goats will kill you.

One of our goats was a Resident — what I call a “baby doc.”  In one 24 hour period, without touching her and undoubtedly without reading her Electronic Medical Records (EMR), this Resident – I shall call him Dr. X, managed to take a person who was in for surgery and reduce her to a patient teetering on the brink of death.

Here is the short story of how Dr. X almost killed my sister.

Friday morning, my sister complained of excruciating pain in the gall bladder area but no one listened.  Just 8 hours later her kidneys started to fail – urine the color of iced tea and very little of it in the catheter bag.  I told the nurse, and asked for a consult with someone right away.

The nurse paged Dr. X 3 times with no answer.  By then it was 6PM and there was no urine output.  At shift change, the night nurse was really shocked by her condition, paged Dr. X and finally got him to commit to come down.  The baby doc appeared at 8PM but he wasn’t there to help, he was there to dismiss.

I asked him if we could consult a urologist; he said no.  I asked for a consult with a nephrologist; he said no.  The nurse specifically asked about getting “a visualization of the kidneys.” He said no.   Four hours later, at 12:40 Saturday morning, the nurse told Dr. X his patient was in full kidney failure and asked if he could take cultures to measure my sister’s kidney function, Dr. X said no.

When paged again, Dr. X showed up again at 3:30AM to “talk with us” and was about as helpful as a plank – not listening, dismissing the problems and both of us.  In full kidney failure and literally drowning, with creatinine levels that had almost tripled and hyper bilirubin anemia, my sister was clearly heading for a casket but Dr. X didn’t seem interested.

I followed him to the Nurses’ Station and demanded a consult with urology.  What I got was a consult with another Resident – this one from Internal Medicine.  Dr. X thought this might shut me up.  It made Dr. X shut up.  This Internal Medicine Resident read her EMR, talked with Ryan and me then examined Meg, who was beyond words.  Then he did what most doctors would never do – he literally removed my sister from Dr. X’s care.  He saved her life.

In Intermediate Care Unit, he put together a team that included all the consults I had asked for and then some — nephrology, urology, pulmonology, cardiology and gastroenterology — and they got to work fast.    Surgery occurred that afternoon and the Chief Surgeon told me they just got to her in time – she had less than 12 hours to live.

This is the proverbial cautionary tale with one moral.  No matter how big the hospital is, no matter how great its reputation, people just like my sister die there NOT because it is “their time” but because goats like Dr. X get a hall pass.

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Automotive Anonymity what happens when someone includes you in his suicide…

It’s over.  I am officially old.

I have joined the ranks of my sisters, who already travel in gray and tan, opting for automotive anonymity.  I now own a beige over brown Subaru.

The reasons were rational.  One man who hit my car trying to pass me in a parking garage.  Another man, young and lost, who jumped into my car trying to kill himself, both in the same day.

I could no longer drive my bright orange, faster than the speed of light HHR – the car I had owned and loved for 5 years.  I couldn’t bear the thought of getting behind the wheel, could not stop seeing him leap, hearing the sound of his body hitting my car, his hand breaking the glass, his slow roll off the back fender, striking the ground, lying on the side of the road.

The fact that I was not at fault for either accident, the fact that I knew this, knew I was virtually helpless, a target for the truck and then the boy made no difference, still makes no difference.  My confidence is gone.  My joy of driving, of feeling the car on the road – is gone.

In their place is a woman who feels ill every time she approaches a car, who can’t drive and yet doesn’t want to be in the passenger seat.  I need potatoes but can’t bring myself to drive to the store five minutes from my house.  I want to see my horse but the stable is 11 miles away – a drive too far.

Officially, I have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.  A therapist is trying to help me cope.  A doctor is caring for my stomach aches and sleepless nights.  And I am working slowly but surely to relearn something that I have been doing for 47 plus years.

On back roads, early in the morning when there is no traffic, I am learning to believe that the boy walking up ahead is not going to jump in front of my car; the truck waiting at the crossroads is not going to pull out into my side.

I am learning to drive again in a slower, drabber world, in automotive anonymity where I can hide in my brown over beige Subaru.

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Finding Heroes In Hospitals

Six weeks in hell in a hospital with my sister has taught me many things but one of the most important is who really are the heroes.

Are they the surgeon? The cardiologists? The specialists who swoop in, make their cuts and move on?

In some cases, yes, but there are many more heroes who travel the halls of today’s hospitals, many of them unnoticed by administration or management but it is these heroes I want to say thank you to.

There was the housekeeper who found me collapsed, in tears, watching transport wheel my sister’s gurney off to the OR. Without a thought, she dropped her mop and wrapped her arms around me, held me, told me it would be okay. A hero, a human being who touched my soul for a few moments and gave me comfort.

There was the nurse who watched me watch you, who listened to me and started slowly, bravely and repeatedly pushing the Resident, asking for tests and finally telling him that my sister was in full renal failure. A man who risked his career for my sister, him I will not forget.

The housekeeper who stopped what she was doing and walked me to the cabinet to get a warm blanket, the nurse who pushed away from the computer and came down the hall with me to soothe my sister’s pain, the security guards who welcomed me, smiled and said good morning, the cashiers in the cafeteria who always asked how I was doing and how my sister was doing — all of them are heroes, the underpinnings of the hospital that make the work of the technicians – read doctors – possible.

These are my heroes, men and women who come to work every day and see sorrow, pain, loss, played out in every corridor and every room and still they reach out to touch, to help, to care.  These are people I will not soon forget and will never be able to thank.

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In Love, With Cancer

It always starts the same way…a phone call, a finding, “We’re hopeful that…”

Cancer has been my constant companion for more than 10 years now.  It tapped my husband first and took me to my knees as the hours, days, weeks passed.  He survived but at a series of terrible prices which I will share over the coming weeks and months.

Four years ago, my oldest brother was diagnosed with a malignant cytoma in his brain.  The Cyber-Knife showed a sister tumor and they sewed him up.  He died in two months.

Last May, my brother Bob had a cerebral hemorrhage brought on by a large, malignant tumor in his brain.  He died in two weeks.

Today, right now, my older and dearer sister is battling for her life, a 25 centimeter ovarian tumor taking over her abdomen and her every conscious moment.  She is in an ICU, on a vent and still has another surgery to go.

With each of them, I have suspended my life, shut it down to the 10 foot by 12 foot white prison cell called a hospital room.  Watching, caring, calling out what I see and demanding attention when it was needed.  Day after day, and in many cases all through the night, I have lived with them, breathed for them, watched them, prayed for them and advocated, always advocated for them.

Everything else fades away and life narrows to the hospital bed, the pinpoint that demands all your attention.  You are tired to the bone and still you stay, you watch, you help, you cry.  You ache in your joints and in your heart and still, you stay, soothing, calming, trying to reassure.  You forget what day it is, when you last ate, what a hot cup of tea tastes like, what it’s like to lie down in a bed to sleep instead of a chair and still, you stay.

That’s what it means to be in love…with cancer.

Heading back to the hospital to hold her hand, tell her where she is, what is happening and what will happen next.  I will write more about this, about the nurses who are heroes every day and about the good, the bad and the ugly of health care and hospitals.

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Five Steps For Saving The World

Changing the world, that’s what I thought I would do when I was young.  It was the 60’s after all.  We, the young people of the United States, broke the back of the Vietnam War and brought our brothers and fathers home.

We looked at a world of inequality — a country where people of color had to use separate facilities and had no opportunity and a country where a woman couldn’t get a credit card, a car or even an apartment in her own name without a co-signer and decided to fight.  We marched on Washington and won equal rights for all, regardless of race, religion or sex.

We really thought that we could make a difference.  Then we got married, had babies, went to work and stopped fighting for causes.  Oh sure, we wrote checks; I still do but I’m not rich–I’m unemployed.  So the money being sent to organizations like the  Nature Conservancy, National Wildlife Federation, Sierra Club, Audubon Society just doesn’t seem like very much.  In fact, in light of all the ecological problems this island, Earth, is facing, it seems downright pitiful

Stuck in the circular thinking of I can’t solve all the problems so why bother, I was left wondering just how can one person make a difference?

Then a card arrived in the mail.  It was a small, nondescript card from an organization unknown to me and asking for a donation.  And although I don’t have much money, I sent them a donation the same day I opened their envelope.  Why?

They answered my question.

The Ocean Conservancy asked for $18.00 if I could spare it.  In return, they offered me five small steps — steps that one person could take and, literally, start a “sea change.”

  1. Don’t pour harsh chemicals down the drain or into storm sewers.  The only end up in the drinking water down stream.  DO seal and wrap them in the original containers and call your city or county waste center for disposal instructions.
  2. Don’t litter or throw trash in streams, on the shoreline or in the ocean. DO volunteer to help rid our seas of the trash that can kill or entangle marine wildlife.  Volunteer for the Ocean Conservancy’s coastal clean up by calling 1-800-262-BEACH.
  3. Don’t use commercial cleaners – products that contain bleach and ammonia.  Substitute the ones our grandparents used, like white vinegar, baking soda and borax.  They clean as well and cause much less damage.
  4. Don’t drop your boat into the water and drive out into the lake or the ocean with loose debris or packaging that could blow off the deck.  DO look for and dispose of anything that could drop overboard before setting sail.
  5. Don’t keep flushing thousands of gallons of usable water down  your toilet.  Do fill a plastic water bottle with water and place it in your tank.  You could save up to 5,000 gallons of water every year.

Everyone can do every one of these things.  Not one of them costs anything to do. If you are living on this planet and enjoying this diverse community we call the world, you can join people from all walks of life and make a difference.

Thank you to that person, toiling somewhere in the offices of the Ocean Conservancy, who like me probably thought that one day he, she, I, we could save the world.   Because he or she reminded me, we can.

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