Tonight's picture was taken in September of 2008. Mattie was a month into his cancer treatment. He lost all of his hair by that point, but it was prior to an of his limb surgeries. Which was why he was standing and freely moving about! You will notice a cute yellow bird on our furniture in the background. Mattie received this cute fellow as a gift. Well this was no ordinary bird. This guy could sing and dance. In fact, he was so lively that Mattie was flapping around imitating the bird. So Peter got up to join Mattie. I had one yellow bird and two human birds in our home that evening and naturally I couldn't miss the opportunity to capture this on camera! As Mattie's cancer treatment continued on, the gifts that Mattie's care community sent him almost on a daily basis became life savers. Some days those gifts were the things I used to jog him out of a deep depression. The happiness did not last long, but the gifts would give us pockets of enjoyment, which for back then seemed like magical moments.
Quote of the day: One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood. ~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca
I can't believe it is August already. It seems to me it was May a minute ago, when I was just packing up Foundation Walk materials. I honestly do not know what happened to the summer. But that is no surprise to me when the summer has been all about work! In addition, to working, I also reflect on the fact that two months ago today my friend Margaret died.
I went to see my neurologist yesterday and each time I visit him, he makes me fill out a check-in form. Just so he has an update on my health and social concerns. This morning when I reflected back on how I filled out the form, I was a bit surprised at myself. I said that there were NO changes in my social life since my last visit. Which isn't exactly true. Since my last visit I lost Margaret. In fact, if I gave him the full low down on my losses, I would have to say I lost my friend Mary in March, my friend Jocelyn in April, and Margaret in June. However, I am so conditioned by our medical community's lack for interest and respect for psychosocial concerns, that I totally discounted them for myself, and instead responded NO! I am pointing this out because I live and breathe psychosocial issues ALL the time. I write about them daily on the blog, and yet in a health care setting, I do not always advocate for them myself! This is because we operate in a system which treats the patient as just that, a number, a part, NOT of a whole. When you are the patient, it is much harder to integrate these parts for yourself. I am much better at doing this for someone else, which is why I am usually a better advocate for someone else.
Yet to be fair to myself there are also times where I also do not want to reveal the issues I am contending with such as pain and loss. This doctor already knows about my loss with Mattie, and there are just so many crises and traumas that I want to discuss at once with a medical doctor.
Seneca's quote I thought was lovely. When I was in graduate school, I had the opportunity to meet my friend, Mary Ann. We became partners in crime in our ethics class together. We loved to analyze cases, issues, and consulted with each other inside and outside of the classroom then and even to this day. We have had our ups and downs in life, and through these times we remain connected. I even learned today how intertwined our lives are over certain dates, like August 5. On August 5, we learned that Mattie's cancer was terminal, it had spread to his liver and lungs. This also happens to be a significant date for Mary Ann too, and I never knew that until our correspondence today.
My friend Denise, who I also met in grad school, was telling me something quite similar to this two weeks ago. Especially as it related to Mattie's diagnosis day. As I was telling her about how horrible the day was for me and every aspect of that day, she was reflecting on a lunch she and I had weeks prior to Mattie's diagnosis day. So ironically when she thinks of Mattie's diagnosis, she reflects back on that lunch we had together. Like the happiness before the fall. I find it intriguing to see how the gift of special friendships help create a fuller picture of my life, my memories, and thankfully help me feel understood during times when grief seems so perplexing.
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