I think that both Mother's Day and Father's Day are ongoing opportunities for children of whatever age to remember and express appreciation. I'm thinking of a fellow in his early 30's who showed up at my parent's house one Mother's Day with a huge bouquet of fresh flowers.
As a friend of my brother's, this guy, who lived outside town, slept almost every Friday night at our house after a bit too much partying in town. He would usually have breakfast with us Saturday a.m. and then return home. This day, as he handed the flowers to Mom, he said, "I was buying flowers for Mom, and it occurred to me that you've made as many breakfasts for me as she has, so I thought you deserved these."
See, the existence of Mother's Day just gave the opportunity to do something extra nice.
I recently learned of a similar program for women leaving prison. I just did a major purge, and some recent parolees are going to be very stylish--and I feel really good about it.
I've said that it was one of the few times that science helped me make an ethical/moral decision, but it really did. That CAT scan made all the difference in the world at that moment. It also helped that my brother and I were on the "same page"--that we were close enough to Mom that we knew her wishes. (Her advance directive was over a decade old, so it was good that we had discussed such things more recently.) And it helped that my very close friend is a nun who has, of necessity, become sort of an expert with end-of-life decisions as her community ages. She had also had hospice training and was able to walk me through what would happen with Mom day by day. Finally, it was VERY helpful for me that I had sat in on Mom's appointments with her doctor. As a result, I knew how much they cared for each other. That was tremendously consoling to me throughout her last days.
I'm very glad you have brought up this topic. It is, indeed, a difficult discussion to initiate, though we took advantage of sad conflicts surrounding Terri Schiavo a few years back to have our family discussion. Still, an advanced directive can be horribly difficult to activate, as my brother and I learned this past December when our 97 year old mother suffered a massive hemorrhagic stroke.
As Mom's doctor said to me, "Pat, this is when that piece of paper takes on real meaning." Intellectually, I knew that, but I guess I had assumed that I would have to implement that directive only if Mom were brain dead or comatose. She wasn't, though her 97-year-old brain had been horribly and irrevocably damaged by a stroke.
My brother and I were fortunate that Mom had a doctor who was willing to consult with us. "You need to make a decision that you can explain to the boys [my nephews/my brother's sons] a decade from now," he said. "And you have to be able to explain it without regret." He was also willing to share the science with us. I remain astounded that we could sit in a conference room and watch layer after layer of brain peel away on the same computer screen where someone else might play a game of solitaire.
I needed no interpretation to know what we were seeing when a massive change of color appeared on the screen. "Devastating," was the doctor's comment to himself, as he took an extra moment to review the damage before turning back to us. That was the only emotional "slip" the doctor made. He cared tremendously for my mom, which was a great consolation to me, but I also knew that he was a scientist to a fault. He made absolutely sure that the decision would be ours and ours alone.
With difficulty, we made it. As my brother reminded me, "We can't think of ourselves; we have to think of Mom." We invoked the advanced directive on Dec. 12 to be activated Dec. 15 in order to give my nephews a chance to return to see Gram one last time. She died Dec. 20, after receiving the wonderful care of the palliative care staff at Lawrence [KS] Memorial Hospital.
I was in grad school at the University of Kansas, living in a crackerbox of an apartment a block from the Street People hangout. One night a former undergrad. roommate appeared at the door holding Tapestry. Seems she had a KC friend who delivered albums upon request: "Give me 24 hours and I'll get you anything at half price." Hmmmm-- Anyway, the album got me through who knows how many papers (God, the thought of typing them on a typewriter makes me shudder) and campus disruptions. I took it with me when I returned to the "real" world to live in an even worse apartment as I taught junior high. I still have it I think, though I have nothing to play it on. Sooo last year I picked up a CD version--not well re-produced--but the ambience is still there.
The more of these moments I see--and there have been several, haven't there--the more one word comes to mind: token. The spouse is being made into a token that legitimizes the illegitimate action.
The doer of the deed is a public figure standing there because of wrong that affects the public in some way. Would the spouse be standing next to the governor or mayor or president if he were speaking about taxes or education or whatever other public topic? This happens to be a topic involving sex, but if it has something to do with the public, the spouse's approval or acquiescence isn't relevant. And if this is private, there shouldn't be a public mea culpa.
So why does the spouse agree? Despite what they say, it's not the kids--it's never the kids. It's the $$ and the power and the prestige that's up in the air. It seems to me that they aren't willing to close the door yet because they haven't had time to settle these issues.
I happened to be at the nursing home--one of our "best"--the day the administrator was fishing for a stellar evaluation.
"And you have witnessed any instances of abuse?" she asked Mom as a rhetorical question. Clearly she was expecting an "oh, no."
I spoke up and said, "Yes, she has. When aides complain to her that she asks to go to the restroom too often, that's harrassment, especially since she has a kidney problem. And when she is reduced to a number with comments such as 'I have 20 others to wake up' she is being abused. And when she won't go to dinner because she can't see to wheel herself back to her room, she is being neglected."
Ironically, the one night she didn't call for help, apparently no one checked on her, for some time that night she had a massive hemorragic stroke. She died ten days later.
I think we think of abuse as being very blatant. I've learned that it's the little things that dehumanize and destroy the spirit.
Actually, I first heard of this strategy--pre-cell, though--when I took a grad. administration class. The professor urged all wannabe administrators to defuse confrontations in their offices by excusing themselves from the irate parent/student/teacher to "get this phone call." The following semester I had an administrator try to pull that one on me. When he did the "I'll be with you in a minute. Have to make a quick call," I said, "Come on--I read the same textbook you did. Let's talk now." He kept the phone on the hook after that.
In contrast to that rather inherently rude situation, I can definitely understand the use of any device to work through the gauntlet of under-employed/over-paid personnel. Thanks for the tip--I'll make sure mine's on mute.
I think that what we have here is a movement instead of a candidacy. I share your concern about "gravitas." Every time I see him speak, two images come to mind--and are fused: Bobby Kennedy (who had a movement going for him) in early June 1968 and Robert Redford in the last scene of "The Candidate": "Now, what do we do?"
I love these makeovers--I'm addicted to What Not to Wear--and I congratulate this person for going public with hers. But does anyone else think that some of this folks intentionally layer on the "before"? I sometimes wonder whether the first makeover purchase should be a full length mirror.
patmcq (anonymous) says...
I think that both Mother's Day and Father's Day are ongoing opportunities for children of whatever age to remember and express appreciation. I'm thinking of a fellow in his early 30's who showed up at my parent's house one Mother's Day with a huge bouquet of fresh flowers.
As a friend of my brother's, this guy, who lived outside town, slept almost every Friday night at our house after a bit too much partying in town. He would usually have breakfast with us Saturday a.m. and then return home. This day, as he handed the flowers to Mom, he said, "I was buying flowers for Mom, and it occurred to me that you've made as many breakfasts for me as she has, so I thought you deserved these."
See, the existence of Mother's Day just gave the opportunity to do something extra nice.
On Mother's Day has grown old
June 8, 2008 at 8:23 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
I recently learned of a similar program for women leaving prison. I just did a major purge, and some recent parolees are going to be very stylish--and I feel really good about it.
On Clothes closet helps dress for success
May 23, 2008 at 10:41 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
I've said that it was one of the few times that science helped me make an ethical/moral decision, but it really did. That CAT scan made all the difference in the world at that moment. It also helped that my brother and I were on the "same page"--that we were close enough to Mom that we knew her wishes. (Her advance directive was over a decade old, so it was good that we had discussed such things more recently.) And it helped that my very close friend is a nun who has, of necessity, become sort of an expert with end-of-life decisions as her community ages. She had also had hospice training and was able to walk me through what would happen with Mom day by day. Finally, it was VERY helpful for me that I had sat in on Mom's appointments with her doctor. As a result, I knew how much they cared for each other. That was tremendously consoling to me throughout her last days.
On 'Caring Conversations' important for families
May 13, 2008 at 11:35 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
I'm very glad you have brought up this topic. It is, indeed, a difficult discussion to initiate, though we took advantage of sad conflicts surrounding Terri Schiavo a few years back to have our family discussion. Still, an advanced directive can be horribly difficult to activate, as my brother and I learned this past December when our 97 year old mother suffered a massive hemorrhagic stroke.
As Mom's doctor said to me, "Pat, this is when that piece of paper takes on real meaning." Intellectually, I knew that, but I guess I had assumed that I would have to implement that directive only if Mom were brain dead or comatose. She wasn't, though her 97-year-old brain had been horribly and irrevocably damaged by a stroke.
My brother and I were fortunate that Mom had a doctor who was willing to consult with us. "You need to make a decision that you can explain to the boys [my nephews/my brother's sons] a decade from now," he said. "And you have to be able to explain it without regret." He was also willing to share the science with us. I remain astounded that we could sit in a conference room and watch layer after layer of brain peel away on the same computer screen where someone else might play a game of solitaire.
I needed no interpretation to know what we were seeing when a massive change of color appeared on the screen. "Devastating," was the doctor's comment to himself, as he took an extra moment to review the damage before turning back to us. That was the only emotional "slip" the doctor made. He cared tremendously for my mom, which was a great consolation to me, but I also knew that he was a scientist to a fault. He made absolutely sure that the decision would be ours and ours alone.
With difficulty, we made it. As my brother reminded me, "We can't think of ourselves; we have to think of Mom." We invoked the advanced directive on Dec. 12 to be activated Dec. 15 in order to give my nephews a chance to return to see Gram one last time. She died Dec. 20, after receiving the wonderful care of the palliative care staff at Lawrence [KS] Memorial Hospital.
On 'Caring Conversations' important for families
May 12, 2008 at 3:56 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
I was in grad school at the University of Kansas, living in a crackerbox of an apartment a block from the Street People hangout. One night a former undergrad. roommate appeared at the door holding Tapestry. Seems she had a KC friend who delivered albums upon request: "Give me 24 hours and I'll get you anything at half price." Hmmmm-- Anyway, the album got me through who knows how many papers (God, the thought of typing them on a typewriter makes me shudder) and campus disruptions. I took it with me when I returned to the "real" world to live in an even worse apartment as I taught junior high. I still have it I think, though I have nothing to play it on. Sooo last year I picked up a CD version--not well re-produced--but the ambience is still there.
On Reweave some 'Tapestry' memories and win
April 18, 2008 at 6:02 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
The more of these moments I see--and there have been several, haven't there--the more one word comes to mind: token. The spouse is being made into a token that legitimizes the illegitimate action.
The doer of the deed is a public figure standing there because of wrong that affects the public in some way. Would the spouse be standing next to the governor or mayor or president if he were speaking about taxes or education or whatever other public topic? This happens to be a topic involving sex, but if it has something to do with the public, the spouse's approval or acquiescence isn't relevant. And if this is private, there shouldn't be a public mea culpa.
So why does the spouse agree? Despite what they say, it's not the kids--it's never the kids. It's the $$ and the power and the prestige that's up in the air. It seems to me that they aren't willing to close the door yet because they haven't had time to settle these issues.
On Why do wives stand by husbands in sex scandals?
March 25, 2008 at 1:34 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
I happened to be at the nursing home--one of our "best"--the day the administrator was fishing for a stellar evaluation.
"And you have witnessed any instances of abuse?" she asked Mom as a rhetorical question. Clearly she was expecting an "oh, no."
I spoke up and said, "Yes, she has. When aides complain to her that she asks to go to the restroom too often, that's harrassment, especially since she has a kidney problem. And when she is reduced to a number with comments such as 'I have 20 others to wake up' she is being abused. And when she won't go to dinner because she can't see to wheel herself back to her room, she is being neglected."
Ironically, the one night she didn't call for help, apparently no one checked on her, for some time that night she had a massive hemorragic stroke. She died ten days later.
I think we think of abuse as being very blatant. I've learned that it's the little things that dehumanize and destroy the spirit.
On Elder abuse calls for your attention
March 16, 2008 at 5:51 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
Helpful tip, there, at the end.
Actually, I first heard of this strategy--pre-cell, though--when I took a grad. administration class. The professor urged all wannabe administrators to defuse confrontations in their offices by excusing themselves from the irate parent/student/teacher to "get this phone call." The following semester I had an administrator try to pull that one on me. When he did the "I'll be with you in a minute. Have to make a quick call," I said, "Come on--I read the same textbook you did. Let's talk now." He kept the phone on the hook after that.
In contrast to that rather inherently rude situation, I can definitely understand the use of any device to work through the gauntlet of under-employed/over-paid personnel. Thanks for the tip--I'll make sure mine's on mute.
On Reach out and avoid someone
March 5, 2008 at 8:37 a.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
I think that what we have here is a movement instead of a candidacy. I share your concern about "gravitas." Every time I see him speak, two images come to mind--and are fused: Bobby Kennedy (who had a movement going for him) in early June 1968 and Robert Redford in the last scene of "The Candidate": "Now, what do we do?"
On Obama's momentum
February 29, 2008 at 4:19 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )
patmcq (anonymous) says...
I love these makeovers--I'm addicted to What Not to Wear--and I congratulate this person for going public with hers. But does anyone else think that some of this folks intentionally layer on the "before"? I sometimes wonder whether the first makeover purchase should be a full length mirror.
On Makeovers that make sense
February 15, 2008 at 6:20 p.m. ( permalink | suggest removal )