There Are Saints Among Us

I awoke this morning with the phrase in my head, “there are Saints among us.”  I am learning to not ignore little hints and hunches like thoughts that pop into my head so I am choosing to write about Saints in my Blog.   According to the Oxford English Dictionary a Saint is “a good person Christians believe will go to heaven when they die; a person of great goodness who after their death is formally declared by the Church to be a saint, and to whom people offer prayers; (informal) and a very good or kind person.” 

I am familiar with some of the well-known saints but am in no way, well acquainted!  So for me to talk about Saints we can choose the first or third definition above and talk about the very good or kind people in our lives that have made a difference.

  

I am a member of the Episcopal Church and in “An Outline of Faith commonly called the Catechism” in “The Book of Common Prayer” under the title of “The Christian Hope,” the question is asked “What is the communion of saints?” and the answer is given “The communion of saints is the whole family of God, the living and the dead, those whom we love and those whom we hurt, bound together in Christ in sacrament, prayer, and praise.”  I am not sure of what they mean by “the whole family of God?”  Do they mean all believing Christians, excluding all other faiths?  I would have to exclude that since my youngest daughter converted to Judaism and I have two beautiful Jewish granddaughters!  It is a beautiful religion and I have been given the title of a righteous Gentile by two Rabbis who are among my personal list of Saints because they have made an inordinate difference in my life.

 

I like the concept of “the living and the dead,” because, again, my personal list includes them.  My parents, both of whom are deceased, still make a big difference in my life.  The list is long.
 

“Those whom we love and those whom we hurt,” is a poignant phrase because we do hurt the ones we love.  Then the difficult task of forgiveness—forgiving and being forgiven—starts.  It may be as small as a hurtful remark or it may be made difficult by one or both persons withholding painful information.  And the relationship can be ripped apart, sometimes taking years for reconciliation to take place, if ever.  There are ways of hurting others which cannot be repaired.  Pedophilia comes to mind or murder or rape.

I do believe that there are special people in our lives, who are saints to us, very good and kind persons who make a difference.  They can be part of our lives for a lifetime or only a moment. “It only takes a moment to be loved a whole life long” as Cornelius sings to Mrs. Molloy in “Hello Dolly!”

Cornelius
And that is all
That love's about

Mrs. Molloy
And we'll recall when time runs out

Both
That it only took a moment
To be loved a whole life long!

In the hymnal there is a song called, “I Sing a Song of The Saints of God” that pretty much sums it up!  The refrain is “and I want to be one too!”  It is one of my favorite hymns.

Text: Lesbia Scott
Music: John H. Hopkins
Tune: GRAND ISLE, Meter: Irr.

1.                I sing a song of the saints of God,

                   patient and brave and true,

                   who toiled and fought and lived and died

                   for the Lord they loved and knew.

                   And one was a doctor, and one was a queen,

                   and one was a shepherdess on the green;

                   they were all of them saints of God, and I mean,

                   God helping, to be one too.

2.                They loved their Lord so dear, so dear,

                   and his love made them strong;

                   and they followed the right for Jesus' sake

                   the whole of their good lives long.

                   And one was a soldier, and one was a priest,

                   and one was slain by a fierce wild beast;

                   and there's not any reason, no, not the least,

                   why I shouldn't be one too.

3.                They lived not only in ages past;

                   there are hundreds of thousands still.

                   The world is bright with the joyous saints

                   who love to do Jesus' will.

                   You can meet them in school, on the street, in the store,

                   in church, by the sea, in the house next door;

                   they are saints of God, whether rich or poor,

                   and I mean to be one too.

This is the Christian version.  I would like for it to be an interfaith hymn but we haven’t progressed that far yet.

I am surrounded by saints at Tufts Medical Center.  People whose names I will not be able to remember. But I will remember their good and kind care of me that has made an enormous difference in my recovery.  And I have received an avalanche of flowers, cards and calls encouraging me, assuring me of love and prayers.  I am on several Prayer Lists of people who are praying on my behalf.  I have been overwhelmed by the response.   And now, I want to be one, too!  A saint!  Being ill with leukemia has been a spiritual experience for me and I am very grateful. 

 

Who are the saints in your life?  Have you been a saint to someone?  Have you made a difference in their life? 

Flashbacks and Frustrations Part II

Peaches, the only thing I could eat.  Chilled, canned, half-peaches.  They doubtless contributed to the weight loss of 30 pounds!  But they were the only food on the menu that tasted right.  I completely lost my appetite for food.  Unusual for a woman who was overweight because she loved to eat.  It all tasted like hay!  Dean, who was here at the time and a very disciplined person remarked, “Just suck it up, Mom, and eat it!”  But I couldn’t.  My children brought in food from local restaurants but I had the same reaction.  I barely managed to swallow enough food to keep alive.  I was released from the hospital and about five days later my appetite began to come back while eating Pot Roast, Pot Roast with potatoes and baby carrots.  Cheryl was here and she is a very good cook.  She had prepared the Pot Roast for Dean and Travis who drove up to visit me.  I had a very small serving but it awakened “taste” again and it increased every day.  I have never enjoyed Pot Roast so much!  One of the nurses came in to see me today and asked if I was still eating peaches!

I did go shopping for them but discovered that they were not stocked in our two largest grocery stores.  Cheryl and I were browsing the shelves in Target and on the bottom shelf were several cans of half-peaches that were being discontinued.  We bought them all!  I think I am fond of them because I remember eating them as a little girl.  Mother served them often with a dab of mayonnaise and grated cheese on top.  It was a very popular salad then.

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I did not realize how sick I was.  The nurses have said to me, “You were very sick.”  And I’m beginning to realize how very sick I was.  I couldn’t have diagnosed myself as having leukemia but I could recognize that I wasn’t feeling well and wonder why I waited so long to see my primary care physician.  It all started with bronchitis shortly before Halloween.  I have a history of getting bronchitis but I hadn’t had a case in several years.  A lot of it was going around and several of my friends had it.  Most primary care doctors have physician’s assistants to see patients when they are heavily booked, and they usually are, so I booked an appointment with the assistant.  I was diagnosed as having bronchitis and left with a prescription.  But my condition did not improve.

My son, Dean was hosting a family gathering for Thanksgiving and I was planning on going.  But I felt too ill to drive for seven hours to get there.  I was very disappointed but I was just too sick.  Sometime in December our Interfaith Book Group met at a local restaurant and I thought I was well enough to go.  A good friend picked me up but I was tired throughout the dinner and I noticed that I could only eat a few bites of food.  Christmas was my next clue.  My granddaughter, who is a gymnast at Wilson College in PA, came to stay with me while she worked out with a college friend at a gym in Boston.  It meant picking her up at 10:30 pm at the train station.  I had to take a nap every afternoon to do it and I was still clueless.  I kept thinking that the end of January was just right around the corner and then I could see my doctor! 

The next incident frightened me.  I awoke in the morning and while dressing fell to the floor.  I began to develop a rash which I attributed to an allergic reaction to a small bug in my bed sheets.  I got up again, going in the direction of the hall, and I fell again at the top of the stairs.  It was as if I was being pushed.  I had absolutely no control.  Several things came crashing down the stairs.  I don’t remember exactly how I got downstairs.  I remember itching that night and sincerely praying to die!  It was miserable!  I slept in my second bedroom and, in the morning, called my daughter Missy who had worked as a paramedic in Brooklyn and asked what would help the itching.  She said Benadryl so I asked a friend to get a tube for me.  The itching finally subsided and my balance was restored and I saw my Primary Care Physician on our appointment date February 2, 2012.  He heard my story and ordered a blood test.  It had to be a fasting blood test so I went in the next morning and had it taken.  That afternoon he called with the results.  I was very sick.

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If I Only Had a Brain!

Lyrics to If I Only Had A Brain :

(Scarecrow)
I could wile away the hours
Conferrin' with the flowers
Consultin' with the rain
And my head I'd be scratchin'
While my thoughts were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain

I'd unravel any riddle
For any individ'le
In trouble or in pain

(Dorothy)
With the thoughts you'd be thinkin'
You could be another Lincoln
If you only had a brain

(Scarecrow)
Oh, I would tell you why
The ocean's near the shore
I could think of things I never thunk before
And then I'd sit and think some more

I would not be just a nuffin'
My head all full of stuffin'
My heart all full of pain
I would dance and be merry
Life would be a ding-a-derry
If I only had a brain

The above lyrics are from the much beloved childhood movie, “The Wizard of Oz.”  Ray Bolger, a very talented dancer played the part of the Scarecrow, and everyone knows that Judy Garland was “Dorothy.”  I have watched it numerous times because I have four children and we watched every year.  It was family night complete with hot buttered popcorn.  At least 18 times!  It is a wonderful movie!

My feelings today can best be expressed by the Scarecrow’s final line,

“If I only had a brain!”

Then, I could do what I want to do!

·        I would like to feel in control of my life again.

·        I would like to feel confident about speaking again.  Not speeches, just conversations without the loss of words.

·        I would like to be able to read at my former reading rate. It has slowed down mightily and become a frustration instead of my greatest pleasure.

·        I would like to enjoy the convenience of driving again.

·        I would like to be free of worrying about repeating myself.

·        I would like to concentrate and focus on one thing at a time.

·        I would like to remember things!

·        I would like to not be frightened at the thought of being alone again.

The American Cancer Society reports “there is no way to prevent chemo brain while getting cancer treatment.  For some people, treating their cancer will mean trouble with thinking, memory, planning, and word finding.”

“The brain usually recovers over time.  They might last a short time, or they might go on for years.  These changes can make people unable to go back to their school, work, or social activities, or make it so that it takes a lot of mental effort to do so.  They affect everyday life for many people, and more research is needed to help prevent and cope with them.”

And there are many things that must be faced, like changes in your spiritual life, and you need to be in full possession of your faculties to be aware of them.  So now, after four and a half months of treatment I am feeling like the Scarecrow

“if I only had a brain!!!”

Flashback and Frustration No. 1

This is my third try to write about what I recall of my first 27 days of treatment.  I lost the first two attempts due to a power failure that resulted in my blog not saving.

My first memory is of Karen (my priest and a very dear friend) driving me here, helping me to fill out all the admittance forms, getting a wheelchair and pushing me to the 8^th floor, and saying good-bye while weeping many tears.  I have known Karen since she came to our parish as a student of the Episcopal Divinity School.  Karen is about 13 years younger than I am but we became good friends very quickly.  I was asked to be one of her supervisors during her training with us.  Our friendship continued when she graduated and I joined a women’s group at her parish.  She had several roadblocks on the way to Ordination but she finally made it and I was a thrilled participant!  I have never known anyone better suited to the job.

  

One day shortly after she began as a Priest-in-Charge she called me and asked if I could possibly help her out!  Her secretary was resigning and she needed someone for three months while she looked for someone to hire permanently.  I was glad to help her!  The three months became eight years!  And when Karen was ordained a priest she was asked me to give the sermon.  It was one of the proudest moments of my life.

I don’t know when Dean arrived at the hospital but it was soon.  I don’t know who called him or how he got there so quickly but he was there in time to have a brief argument with me concerning my future and I think that a doctor was present.  I remember telling him that I wasn’t afraid to die and I thought that moving into assisted living until it became necessary to call hospice was a reasonable plan.  I was 77, going to be 78 in less than three months, and no one would be shocked at reading my obituary in the newspaper.  My parents had died at the ages of 86 and 88 but the quality of their lives had deteriorated so much because of sundowner’s syndrome and Daddy having to be placed in a Veteran’s facility and Mother, worn out from trying to care for him, moved into a home for the elderly.  When Daddy died, Mother came to Massachusetts to live in a nursing home near me and her death certificate read that she died of Alzheimer’s.  Perhaps I was just trying to avoid all of the pain and sadness of their final years.

Dean, a Colonel in the Army, adamantly refused to consider my suggested plan and in his best command voice said “Absolutely not! You will receive treatment and recover,” or words to that effect.  That was my first realization that I was losing control over my life!  

I remember having a vision at the end of our struggle in which I was elevated towards the ceiling and laying in a hammock being tossed back and forth by a group of laughing women.  It was a wonderful, joyful feeling of happiness.  The vision had to do with death and knowing that there was nothing to fear. It was the first, and last, vision I have ever had. Of course I am grateful for Dean’s insistence because I have been very blessed in my recovery thus far.
And very grateful to be given a greater number of years to live.  I have a feeling that God is calling me to do something.  

Dean, who was retiring from the Army at the War College in Carlisle, PA and had turned over responsibility for his affairs, was best able to take leave time and be with me for the first two weeks.  Missy, who teaches in New York City, took over for the next week when she had Spring Break and Cheryl came from Benson, AZ to take care of me at home.  Chuck, my oldest son who teaches at a Detention Center in Kansas has been part of the team and has called almost every night for four months to check in to see how I am doing and to tell me he loves me.  The best medicine in the world!

Some of my grandchildren came to see me! This was most surprising because being a military family we have wound up scattered all over.  I don’t remember exactly what order they came in—only that they were there!  Charlie and Kady, Dean’s children, came; Sarah, Chuck’s daughter was here from Washington, DC with Adina, Missy’s daughter from NYC;  Bekka, Cheryl’s daughter, now attending college at Wilson in PA, was here with her friend, Monique; and Travis, attending college at PA State, came with Dean for a visit after I went home.  Six out of sixteen grandchildren to cheer you on is wonderful!

I also received many cards from friends wishing me well and telling me that I was being prayed for and was loved.

To be continued!

Chemo Brain

This is my third try on writing a blog I now call Frustration and Flashbacks.  I have tried twice and both times lost the blogs because I am plugged into the Tufts Medical Center which frequently has power failures.  It is one of the most prestigious hospitals in America and deserves all the praise it receives.  It is wonderful and I am grateful to have had their medical insurance and to have been sent here.  But their frequent power failures are very upsetting!

I had intended writing about my first hospitalization, an experience that I do not remember well.  Several of the staff has commented on how sick I was and how amazed they are at my recovery.  But I think that tonight, after losing two blogs, I will write about what is bothering me the most.  Chemo Brain.

I did a computer search on The American Cancer Society and was encouraged to read that “the brain usually recovers over time.”  The following are symptomatic of what doctors and researchers call chemo brain or “mild cognitive impairment.” 

•        Memory lapses
•        Trouble concentrating
•        Trouble remembering details like names or dates
•        Trouble multi-tasking
•        Taking longer to finish things
•        Trouble remembering common words (unable to find the right words to finish a sentence.

“The people who are having problems are well aware of the differences in their thinking.”  It can be very embarrassing and I worry a lot about repeating myself.  I can provide personal examples of each of the above.  I am doing things more slowly than I used to even when I’m feeling good.  Especially reading.  One of my greatest pleasures has become a source of frustration to me.  I have trouble frequently remembering words.  I couldn’t recall the name of a friend whom I have known for almost 30 years! 

Many things can factor into the above problems.  I have come to think of myself as a trifecta of conditions.  I am 78 years old, I had a stroke four years ago, and am now recovering from leukemia.  When I have memory lapses, take longer to finish things, or have trouble remembering common words I wonder if it’s because of being older, having had a stroke or chemo brain! 

Friendship

Yesterday was a wonderful day spent with a dear friend of mine whom I have known for at least twenty years.  I met her at an all day presentation by Carter Heyward at the Episcopal Divinity School in Boston.  She was interested in the work I was doing as Clinical Director of the Middlesex County D.U.I.L. Program, a two week inpatient treatment program for court referred multiple Driving Under the Influence offenders.  I was interested in the possibility of introducing a class on the role of spirituality in recovery.  


Our friendship seemed instantaneous. Inasmuch as she was living in Boston at the time with her husband Denny and I was living in Tewksbury, MA our paths didn't cross too often.  But invitations were extended and the friendship grew.  When they moved to a new home and held a House Blessing I was asked to say a prayer in the prayer room.  I attended a birthday party for Pat and gave her a small collection of Santas since she had just had her "Santa" book published.  I invited them both to a dinner party of "Paella" and introduced them to Paul and Jean who were going on a tour of Spain.  


I hired Pat at the DUIL Program to teach a class on spirituality and she was a great asset to the program.


At some point in our friendship, I'm not sure exactly when, we started meeting at the Legal Sea Foods restaurant in Burlington.  We always ordered the same thing!  The Jasmine Special, a wonderful dish of shrimp, broccoli and rice with Monterrey Jack cheese.  For dessert we would share Key Lime Pie!  


She went to EDS and earned her doctorate degree. She studied to become a priest. She read the psalms in Hebrew and wrote a translation of the Book of Psalms. Denny and Pat retired and moved to Amherst, MA. It was a two and a half hour drive but I managed to drive there several times. Then Denny was diagnosed with leukemia.  He valiantly fought the disease but eventually succumbed to it. I attended his funeral.


Pat remained in their house for awhile but then decided to move to North Carolina across the street from one of her daughters.  She is happy there but misses Massachusetts.  Yesterday she was back for a Homecoming at her Alma Mater, Wellsley!  We met at Legal Sea Foods in Burlington and, as always, ordered the Jasmine Special.  Cheryl was with me and had the opportunity to meet Pat.  After lunch, we drove her to Wellsley and enjoyed a tour of the campus.  It is beautiful! 

We have never lived near each other yet a friendship formed and has grown.  I greatly admire Pat.  And am very happy that our friendship has endured.  May we be blessed with future opportunities to enjoy each other's company.      

"When I was sick and lay a-bed...The Land of Counterpane - Robert Louis Stevenson

Making lists as a means to remembering important dates and events is becoming a way for me to jog my memory.  They are a sort of shorthand reminder of my history which I do not seem to be able to recall rapidly.  The very act of writing certain information down becomes a "re-learning" technique and helps me to recall significant events.  For instance, my medical history.


When first asked, I had forgotten several instances of ill health.  Rheumatic Fever, I remembered as being of profound significance, limiting my early childhood and determining future characteristics. I was about four or five years old when it was diagnosed and about ten when I was declared cured.  I took one of the Sulfa drugs for three years, a relatively new drug .  I remember many trips to the hospital for intravenous shots and illnesses.  Strep throat was a common one.  I was not allowed to run or play and spent a great deal of time in bed.  Fortunately I loved to read.  Among my favorite books was "A Child's Garden of Verses" by Robert Louis Stevenson from which I adopted my life-long motto, 


"The world is so full of a number of things,
I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings. 


My mother and I lived in an apartment where my grandmother, Nanny, and her husband, "Doc," (the only dentist in Blackwell) also had an apartment.  Mother and I were waiting for the return of my father who was serving in the war.  I missed time in school and my mother had to carry me to a balcony so I could be exposed to the sun and fresh air.  A very traumatic incident occurred one day.  I was the only person on the balcony, resting in a lounge chair, and I saw a caterpillar slowly crawling across the balcony.  I was terrified!  I was terrified by worms and all creepy, crawly creatures!  Fortunately, my mother arrived just in time to rescue me.  I was a very obedient child and would never have left on my own two feet!  I wasn't allowed to walk.


I wasn't allowed to do many things because of rheumatic fever.  I couldn't take ballet which I longed to do.  I didn't participate in any sports and when it became possible, I was a young teenager and too embarrassed to try.  I graduated from High School in three years and started college a year early because my father was being sent to Germany again.  I was very shy and my first two years at Stephen's College in Missouri didn't help.  An all girl's school was not a good choice for me.  I didn't have a date for the first year.  But I did learn how to swim!


I was drawn to Sunday School and started going at a young age.  And somewhere along the way I adopted the belief that because I had been ill as a child, I would be free from illness in my old age.  It hasn't worked out that way and I was very shocked when diagnosed as having leukemia!

This blog entry has gone off track!  I meant to write about making lists.  Thus far I have made the families birthday list, my list of medical information, a list of my spiritual life and a list of things to be done and a list of names participating in my various activities.  Old telephone directories (usually hand made by volunteers) are useful.  The lists are helping me to remember and helping me to avoid embarrassing lapses of memory!