Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Tuesday, January 29, 2013 -- Mattie died 177 weeks ago today.

Tonight's picture was taken in February of 2003. Mattie was 10 months old and we were trying to encourage him to stand and support himself. This was not one of Mattie's favorite positions. In order to give him a standing incentive, my parents got Mattie this music table. Mattie loved music and he was clever enough to find a way to play with the keys and the table without having to stand!


Quote of the day: Greatness is not measured by what a man or woman accomplishes, but by the opposition he or she has overcome to reach his goals. ~ Dorothy Height


Somehow I haven't left our home since Saturday. I have lost track of the days and the hours at the same time. Peter is fortunately on the mend now. He was home today, but had the stamina to work and to eat a few things. So this is a massive improvement. I was busy working on Foundation things. I store all of the Foundation's merchandise in Mattie's room, and today I was pulling out bins of things. In February the Foundation is hosting a psychosocial think tank at the American Psychosocial Oncology Society conference. In addition to getting folders, materials, name tags, and handouts ready for that event, the Association is also giving Mattie Miracle a free exhibit hall table. This is very exciting for us since we have never exhibited before at a professional conference. So I have been strategizing what will be displayed at this table and what kinds of give aways will attendees get from us. I remember my conference days as a mental health professional and I always loved receiving two things..... chocolates and pens. So needless to say both will be available at the Mattie Miracle table!!!

This evening, I went to the George Washington University and gave a guest lecture at a "Children and Loss" graduate counseling class. My last lecture I gave at a University was on trauma and childhood cancer. So tonight's PowerPoint presentation needed to be tweaked accordingly. I haven't taught on GW's campus in years, since the spring of 2008 to be precise. Yet coming into the library (where the classroom was) reminded me of my days researching on campus for my dissertation. Some things don't change! I lectured for about two hours tonight, and when I talk about Mattie and our experiences, I can talk for days! However, my talks integrate research, personal experience, and candor. I have a feeling that is what makes the presentations so intriguing, because I am not talking in theory. At the end of the evening one of the students raised her hand to thank me for being so open and honest. I have learned over the years (as I told her) as an educator (especially a counselor educator) that modeling openness, honesty, and vulnerability inspires students to do the same. I also believe that it is through vulnerability that great learning can take place. Especially emotionally.

In one of my slides tonight, I discussed how the research indicates that children know they are dying, whether their parents tell them or confront the issue. Almost as if children have a sixth sense. I shared a story with the class that caught their attention and illustrated this point. Mattie knew he was dying before I did. In the last several months of Mattie's treatment, he saw a psychiatrist at the hospital on a weekly basis. Mattie related to this therapist, maybe because the therapist was a man, whose name happened to be Matthew. Any case, each time Mattie went for therapy, he played with the therapist's doll house. Of course Mattie retitled the doll house...... "a haunted house." Each week Mattie played with the house and in his play scheme was ALWAYS stick figures of himself, Brandon and Jocelyn. These were Mattie's friends at Georgetown who were battling cancer. Mattie, Brandon, and Jocelyn were always allowed into the haunted house, but the "healthy" kids were not allowed in. They didn't belong! This play scheme went on for weeks, until one week Mattie's psychiatrist pulled me aside. That week, Mattie played with the haunted house, except, ONLY Mattie was allowed inside the house. Brandon and Jocelyn were not allowed entry. Mattie told the therapist that his friends were no longer allowed in because they weren't part of his world. What Mattie was telling us is his friends who battled cancer weren't dying like him. Mattie always amazed me, and through his play therapy scenarios such vividness of emotion and thought were reflected. This story still sends chills up my spine and I think I do a better job of recounting it verbally than in writing. Needless to say, as is typical with me, I always feel more energized after teaching.  


Back on the home front, Patches was absolutely thrilled that her buddy has been around 24 hours a day for the past several days. Prior to Patches cancer diagnosis, she knew she was NOT allowed up on our dining room table. But given her condition, I have let a lot slide. You may notice that the right side of her face is swollen with a tumor and that she can hardly open that eye.

 

Peter thought he was going to have peace at the table and work. Patches had other ideas!

 

If Patches could sit in Peter's lap today she would have. She desperately wanted his attention and loves to curl up next to his computer, which gives off heat!