Saturday, November 15, 2014
Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2008. Mattie was recovering from his second limb salvaging surgery. He literally had so many IVs and drainage tubes connected to him that he was unable to move. As you can see he was surrounded by three crucial members of his psychosocial support team, Linda (Mattie's child life specialist), Jenny and Jessie (Mattie's art therapists). These women were an incredible trio and they devised a way for Mattie to use his arms even in bed. They created a fishing pond out of a plastic bin as well as a magnetic fishing pole. They knew how much Mattie used to love to fish with Peter on the Potomac River. Mattie was holding the pole in his hands and Jenny was holding the fishing pond bin filled with magnetic fish. This creative play encouraged Mattie to move his body and engage with them emotionally and socially!
Quote of the day: The telling and hearing of stories is a bonding ritual that breaks through illusions of separateness and activates a deep sense of our collective interdependence. ~ Annette Simmons
As Peter is in Boston, I reached out to our friend Cathy. We met Cathy in 2008, at Georgetown University Hospital. Her daughter Bridget was diagnosed with cancer around the same time as Mattie. Peter and I related to Cathy and her family as soon as we met them and they truly are a remarkable family because Bridget has been battling cancer throughout this six year time frame.
Though Cathy and I have had different cancer experiences over the course of these past six years, we can relate to each other on many levels. We can understand the changes that cancer has caused on our personal relationships. How it affects those in our lives, how friendships change, how we feel differently about ourselves, about the world around us, and how our attitude, viewpoint, and overall priorities change.
We talked for five hours today, but the time went very fast. I suspect it went fast because there is a deep sense of a collective experience and as we tell our stories we further bonded. I know this doesn't always happen for me because I do not typically find satisfaction or comfort in talking to other moms who have or had experienced childhood cancer. Which is why I am not your ideal support group candidate. This is true for three reasons, typically in such a setting I am either absorbing what others are saying and naturally take on the role of the supporter rather than being there to obtain support, or quite the opposite happens. Hearing other people's stories can truly set me off and then I am unable to process the content because I am so overwhelmed with my own feelings. Therefore making it impossible to listen, hear, or take on anyone else's thoughts or issues. As a result, I tune out and land up getting angry about being present in such a setting. Lastly, I have found that parents can also be prescriptive and want to dole out advice such as..... "this worked for me, so you SHOULD do this!!!" As if there is one right or wrong way to manage or cope with grief and loss. Some parents can be very judgmental of other parents. All three reasons are why bereavement support groups do not work for me and why I usually do not turn to other parents for emotional support.
Of course when dialoguing with Cathy, neither one of us is prescriptive and we are both listening to each other. Which is why it works out so well. This afternoon Cathy shared with me two wonderful gifts. Cathy loves to cook and jar all sorts of vegetables and jams. So I got one of her homemade pickled beans and also she added to my butterfly pin collection! This swallowtail is a true beauty and it will remind me of our lunch together and our time connecting. Of course my time with Cathy will always remind me of my days in the clinic when Mattie was alive and a part of my life. Which maybe why it always upsets me when people we knew at Georgetown University Hospital leave! Mattie's treatment team help us to keep Mattie's memory alive. When they leave they take a piece of his memory away from the institution. When I saw Cathy today, it reminded me of our days in the clinic. Even though we were fighting cancer together, for me it meant Mattie was alive, and alive is better than gone any day.
Tonight's picture was taken in November of 2008. Mattie was recovering from his second limb salvaging surgery. He literally had so many IVs and drainage tubes connected to him that he was unable to move. As you can see he was surrounded by three crucial members of his psychosocial support team, Linda (Mattie's child life specialist), Jenny and Jessie (Mattie's art therapists). These women were an incredible trio and they devised a way for Mattie to use his arms even in bed. They created a fishing pond out of a plastic bin as well as a magnetic fishing pole. They knew how much Mattie used to love to fish with Peter on the Potomac River. Mattie was holding the pole in his hands and Jenny was holding the fishing pond bin filled with magnetic fish. This creative play encouraged Mattie to move his body and engage with them emotionally and socially!
Quote of the day: The telling and hearing of stories is a bonding ritual that breaks through illusions of separateness and activates a deep sense of our collective interdependence. ~ Annette Simmons
As Peter is in Boston, I reached out to our friend Cathy. We met Cathy in 2008, at Georgetown University Hospital. Her daughter Bridget was diagnosed with cancer around the same time as Mattie. Peter and I related to Cathy and her family as soon as we met them and they truly are a remarkable family because Bridget has been battling cancer throughout this six year time frame.
Though Cathy and I have had different cancer experiences over the course of these past six years, we can relate to each other on many levels. We can understand the changes that cancer has caused on our personal relationships. How it affects those in our lives, how friendships change, how we feel differently about ourselves, about the world around us, and how our attitude, viewpoint, and overall priorities change.
We talked for five hours today, but the time went very fast. I suspect it went fast because there is a deep sense of a collective experience and as we tell our stories we further bonded. I know this doesn't always happen for me because I do not typically find satisfaction or comfort in talking to other moms who have or had experienced childhood cancer. Which is why I am not your ideal support group candidate. This is true for three reasons, typically in such a setting I am either absorbing what others are saying and naturally take on the role of the supporter rather than being there to obtain support, or quite the opposite happens. Hearing other people's stories can truly set me off and then I am unable to process the content because I am so overwhelmed with my own feelings. Therefore making it impossible to listen, hear, or take on anyone else's thoughts or issues. As a result, I tune out and land up getting angry about being present in such a setting. Lastly, I have found that parents can also be prescriptive and want to dole out advice such as..... "this worked for me, so you SHOULD do this!!!" As if there is one right or wrong way to manage or cope with grief and loss. Some parents can be very judgmental of other parents. All three reasons are why bereavement support groups do not work for me and why I usually do not turn to other parents for emotional support.
Of course when dialoguing with Cathy, neither one of us is prescriptive and we are both listening to each other. Which is why it works out so well. This afternoon Cathy shared with me two wonderful gifts. Cathy loves to cook and jar all sorts of vegetables and jams. So I got one of her homemade pickled beans and also she added to my butterfly pin collection! This swallowtail is a true beauty and it will remind me of our lunch together and our time connecting. Of course my time with Cathy will always remind me of my days in the clinic when Mattie was alive and a part of my life. Which maybe why it always upsets me when people we knew at Georgetown University Hospital leave! Mattie's treatment team help us to keep Mattie's memory alive. When they leave they take a piece of his memory away from the institution. When I saw Cathy today, it reminded me of our days in the clinic. Even though we were fighting cancer together, for me it meant Mattie was alive, and alive is better than gone any day.
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