Uneasy Pink

How did you find out?

2010-09-08T00:12:00.001-04:00

An article from the LA Times this summer brought back my nightmare.

Anyone who has undergone a biopsy or other test to detect cancer knows the agony of waiting for the test results. Doctors face the dilemma of how to divulge the bad news to their patients. Call the minute you receive the results and let the patient know? Schedule a face-to-face office visit and explain the findings there?

A new study suggests that doctors should usually disclose a cancer diagnosis in a personal setting, taking plenty of time to discuss what the diagnosis means and explain treatment options.

My path to diagnosis was utterly screwed up, and I am using the polite term. The tumor was not detected via mammogram (and several more mammograms and an ultrasound). The edge of a lymph node was detected though, through somewhat of a fluke. I was called in for more tests, then again for a Fine Needle Biopsy. They sampled that lymph node and I waited for them to call and tell me they were wrong. However, I got a call one Friday morning as I was leaving to take the kids to summer camp.

The doctor, who shall remain nameless, told me that the cells were malignant. Not just that, but that they were squamous cell carcinoma, the types of cells generally seen with skin or lung cancer. Then she told me that another doctor would be in touch soon to schedule a whole bunch more tests.

Just typing this brings back my nausea and clenches my muscles.

She left me running around desperate, crazed, thoroughly directionless and convinced I was a goner. And, I might add, she was wrong about the squamous cells. My surgeon told me that needles that small can only tell the difference between malignant vs benign but can't accurately identify the type of cell.

Now I hear that soothing mother voice reminding me that everything turned out fine in the end. That is true and I haven't lost sight of that, but I have a right to my outrage here. It took me from the first phone call on July 7th until August 26th to get my final answer, which was that I had a locally advanced but very common form of breast cancer.

According to the article:

Some situations may warrant using the telephone to divulge a cancer diagnosis, the authors wrote, such as when the patient already knows that cancer is suspected and has been waiting for several days to learn the test results. But, in general, a cancer diagnosis should be made in-person in a hospital room or doctor's office with sufficient time available to discuss prognosis and treatment. "...having more than 20% of patients told their diagnosis in an impersonal manner suggests too many physicians are either unaware of or not practicing good communication skills in such bad news circumstances," the authors wrote.

My situation did not warrant the impersonal, soul-sucking phone call. I deserved more and so do all other patients.

But, trying to turn this frown upside down, I am always willing and capable of helping people navigate these murky days of waiting, scary under even the best of circumstances. And as the article points out, here are some things people can do when they first enter this rabbit hole world.

First step... breathe.

Second step... get in touch with someone who has been there.

I'm always around.

Bittersweet

2010-09-07T08:34:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, my eight year old son lost a tooth. My husband and I totally forgot the tooth fairy during the overnight REM sleep, so I went in early in the morning. When I had my hand under his pillow, he woke up. Thinking I was light on my feet, I brushed the tooth onto the floor and left. After he fell back to sleep, my husband slipped the money in and picked up the tooth.

My son asked me some questions about what was going on, but I stayed light on my feet and managed to answer his questions with questions and evasions.

Then last week, my ten year old daughter lost a molar. Again, Bad Mommy forgot. She came down for breakfast and her brother asked her how much she got. She said she hadn't checked yet. Clever me strikes again. I went upstairs and took care of toothy business before they finished their orange juice.

I kid you not. She lost another tooth at school later that day. Bad Mommy was sleepy. Can you see where this is going? In the morning, I was outside watering our parched plants and my daughter came to the door and announced, "Hey Mommy, I have to remember to check if the tooth fairy came before I leave for school."

As a parent, I find that I'm never quite sure when the right time is, but I knew the jig was up on this one. I went inside and asked her if there was anything she wanted to talk about. Red faced, she said no, but my eight year old came bolting down the stairs and said, "I do. I think you're the tooth fairy and even though I believe in St. Nicholas I think you're Santa Claus too."

I asked my daughter was she thought and she just said she agreed.

It turns out she'd set me up the day before. She had checked under her pillow and said that she hadn't for my benefit to test out her hypothesis. And my son never got over waking up to find my hand under his pillow. I do think they both had their suspicions before these incidents, but I never knew when to bring it up.

I spent a lot of time explaining to them that it doesn't matter whether these icons exist because it's all about love and love creates magic. The kids were worried about all of the additional work we had to do to pull off these stunts but I assured them that the grown ups are the ones who actually have all of the fun.

I had mixed feelings about the tooth fairy and Santa in the first place. It seems a little devious and I worried about their reaction when they found out we were lying. What else are they lying about??

So I was careful to repeat to them that the magic is real even if there's no dude in a red suit. We were walking to to bus as I was saying it and a little rabbit came out of nowhere and sped right through our path, startling us mid-conversation.

See, I told them, the magic is all around you if you keep your eyes and your minds open.

Pa-pa-pa Poker Face

2010-09-06T05:56:00.000-04:00

Bluffing is not always the best option, particularly when you are simply trying to avoid looking stupid. Several times in my life I have avoided asking a question then realized that I’ve gone way too long without asking it to ask it. I have trouble remembering names and while I’ve been told in the past that statement is a cop out, it’s undeniably a challenge for me. I think meeting people makes me nervous, then the synapses and neuroses start firing so fast in my brain that it can’t possibly retain the person’s name. Without going into lengthy detail, I’ll say that in the years of my early adulthood, I got myself in trouble more than once by trying to bluff my way around the name thing.

A few years ago, I realized I had run into the same problem with Starbucks. I have no idea what those drinks are that everyone talks about – Café Mocha Camel Latte Chino Double Half Shots or something. I’ve never been a dedicated coffee drinker, but if I ever went into a Starbucks and tried to order I’m pretty sure they would send me to the gas station to get my coffee. I do know that the brown-rimmed pots are regular and the orange-rimmed pots are decaffeinated.

Last Wednesday I had my regularly scheduled checkup with my oncologist. Once again, I can’t believe I didn’t know the answer to this question and I got busted trying to fake it. The doctor came in and said TWO YEARS… WOW! I corrected her, saying it’s been two years since we MET. We did a little verbal jitterbug and I finally asked her when those legendary five year survival statistics begin; what day is day zero.

Surprise! The countdown started with my diagnosis. I thought they started with my last treatment.

Hot dog, just by walking into the doctor’s office I gained a year.

So I am officially a two year survivor now!! Woot! Every year when I go to the Race for the Cure, the sorority girls that hand out pink caps ask me how long I’ve been a survivor. They add little pink ribbons to the hat, one per year of survivorship. I have literally stared at them dumfounded when they ask and usually start babbling about how it all depends on when they start counting. Duh. That’s what they’re thinking when they stare at me baffled. This year I can answer with confidence.

My oncologist, also blunt like my surgeon, was quick to point out that this type of cancer can come back even twenty years down the road.

Twenty years? Pfew. My time horizon has been much more immediate than that. First I was thinking day to day and milestone to milestone, but I’m thrilled to shift into year to year and decade to decade patterns.

Now my appointment times have been increased to every four months. I’ll never be released from the oncologist, but the amount of time between visits will increase gradually until I see her once per year.

I think I can find ways to fill up my time.

Poetry Friday

2010-09-03T10:31:00.000-04:00

Amber

Eavan Boland

It never mattered that there was once a vast grieving:

trees on their hillsides, in their groves, weeping—
a plastic gold dropping

through seasons and centuries to the ground—
until now.

On this fine September afternoon from which you are absent
I am holding, as if my hand could store it,
an ornament of amber

you once gave me.

Reason says this:
The dead cannot see the living.
The living will never see the dead again.

The clear air we need to find each other in is
gone forever, yet

this resin once
collected seeds, leaves and even small feathers as it fell
and fell

which now in a sunny atmosphere seem as alive as
they ever were

as though the past could be present and memory itself
a Baltic honey—

a chafing at the edges of the seen, a showing off of just how much
can be kept safe

inside a flawed translucence.

Now what?

2010-09-02T00:31:00.000-04:00

Tuesday was my first day home alone of the school year and it was intimidating. A childhood story came to mind.

I remember being on the Dodge'ems at the amusement park. It might have been the first time I ever drove alone. The cars started out in that huge blobby amoeba shape where no one could budge. One by one, from the outside in, cars and kids began freeing themselves. I decided on a defensive strategy; unwilling to embrace my aggression I was a little uncomfortable with running into other cars so I decided to avoid being hit instead. Apparently I was lucky or showed natural talents for escape because soon I found myself alone on the other side of the track, looking back at the blobby amoeba. "What do I do now?" was in my mind. If I go back around the track I'll be sure to be hit. If I just sit here, that's not much fun. So I kept moving forward and somehow sneaked past the crowd on the inside track. There I was alone again and before I could hatch a new plan, the ride was over.

Here I sit at my writing desk, wondering what's next. A line that has shown up twice in the last week in different places is "meet your success halfway." I'd love to, if I could just figure out which direction to run.

While my life has been peppered with existential crises, this may be the first time it's all really been in my hands. I worked full time before the kids were born, then it was the early kid years. In 2007, the first year both kids were in school full time, I worked while they were gone. This time of year in 2008 I was descending into cancer hades and last year I was climbing out. This year it's all up to me.

I feel like this game has high stakes too, like I'd better get it right. The pressure of no do-overs is beating me into submission, or perhaps inaction and distraction. I remind myself often and most of me believes that there isn't one True path. In fact, in my world there are very few True anythings.

Complicating my paralysis is my expectation that I would blossom when my time was self-directed. For school and career decades I lamented my lack of time to pursue my passions. Be careful what you wish for, I suppose. I am disappointed in myself for feeling lost rather than empowered when I don't have an outside force dictating the details of my life.

I understand that this is a time of transition and more importantly, how lucky I am to have both the internal capability and the external support to deliberately chose my path. It's just so darned intimidating with all of those choices.

So how do you fill up your free time? Do you lament the lack of time to pursue your passions? What would you do if you just had the time?

I'll leave you with a quote that hasn't been far from my mind since the first time I heard it as a teenager.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

Henry David Thoreau

Milking Cancer

2010-09-01T00:31:00.015-04:00

I had an opportunity to talk to some women from Breast Cancer Action during an online press conference on Tuesday. From now through September 24th, they are working with other organizations on the MILKING CANCER campaign.

Eli Lilly is the sole manufacturer of rBGH (recombinant bovine growth hormone), an artificial hormone given to dairy cows. Cows treated with this hormone pass along Insulin-like Growth Factor 1 (IGF-1) which has been linked to an increased risk of breast cancer. Also, the hormone causes an infection called mastitis, leading to the cow being treated with antibiotics.

To complete the cancer loop, Eli Lilly also sells a drug that helps prevent cancer in women with high risk and a drug used to treat cancer. According to BCA, it's an all around money-maker:

Eli Lilly’s cancer drugs made $2,683,000,000 for the company in 2008. Its potentially carcinogenic dairy hormone made $985,000,000 in the same year.

rBGH has been banned in the EU, Canada, Japan and Australia. BCA started this campaign last year, educating thousands and organizing a postcard campaign.

Eli Lilly did not respond, interpreted by many as a slap in the face. As Executive Director Barbara Brenner said during the press conference, "Silence has killed people for too long."

This year, they are launching an online petition drive. Their goal is to gather 6,220 signatures, a number that equals the days rBGH has been on the market. BCA has successfully lobbied Yoplait to remove the hormone from their products and soon Dannon followed suit. Since my diagnosis in 2008, I have become particularly aware of food additives, both for my own health and for how they affect my children.

These types of actions can be effective, but only if we participate.

Please visit the BCA's action website, THINK BEFORE YOU PINK to sign the petition. Also, if you can mention it on your blog, facebook or twitter (#milkingcancer), you can make a difference.

Single dose radiation

2010-08-31T00:15:00.001-04:00

A study was released earlier this summer regarding the effectiveness of single dose radiation. As some perspective, women with breast cancer are usually given radiation after the removal of a lump. While chemotherapy is a systemic therapy that kills all fast growing cells, radiation therapy targets the cells in a specific area of the body. I received radiation treatment after my mastectomy because of the size of the original tumor and lymph node involvement. Radiation usually goes on for 25 - 28 treatments, one per day with weekends off. The side effects vary by person but can include fatigue, burned skin, depression and pain. I got them all, perhaps as some sort of cosmic balance for my chemotherapy tolerance. There are more serious long term side effects like heart and lung damage and increased risk of another cancer.

In this study, a dose of radiation is given to the tumor site during surgery and the outcomes are similar to the traditional radiation approach and the side effects are reduced. This may be important to women who forgo radiation because of their lack of daily access to a cancer center. There are some limitations to the study, as noted by Dr. Love in the link.

One drawback of this study is that the women have only been followed for about four years. However, most local recurrences occur within two-to-three years after surgery, so the study participants have certainly passed that hurdle. Still, as the researchers point out, they will need to follow these women longer to determine whether those who had the single dose of radiation are more likely to have a new primary tumor occur in another area of the breast or a delayed recurrence in the same area.

Intrabeam is not an option for everyone. It requires specialized equipment that is not available at all hospitals. In addition, it was only given in selected situations. It was not given to women who had lobular breast cancer or to women who had cancer in more that one area of their breast. We also have to remember that the study findings apply to the types of tumors treated in this study: 86% were smaller than 2cm, 90% were hormone-sensitive, and 83% had no node involvement.

So it's certainly promising information for those looking to reduce the side effects of cancer treatment but, as Dr Love points out, it's important to understand the scope of such studies.

Cause marketing

2010-08-24T13:32:00.001-04:00

Yesterday I mentioned pinkwashing. Serendipitously, NPR ran a story today about cause marketing, corporations that team up with non-profits. Here's an interesting quote from the story:

Studies by business professors at Duke and Michigan have found that "cause-related marketing" often profits the companies who participate in disease awareness campaigns as much or more than the charities they are supporting.

"It's now very much transformed into a corporate venture and a merchandising opportunity," says Angela Wall, spokeswoman for Breast Cancer Action, an advocacy group based in San Francisco. "People are buying stuff that's pink, thinking it's going to a good cause, but because there's no copyright on the pink ribbon it can be slapped onto any product."

On one hand, as the story points out, these awareness campaigns have destigmatized diseases and tragedies. Amazingly, according to the article, not so long ago cancer was so shameful that patients weren't even told. I suspect that I have benefited from such raised awareness. However, the spate of pink ribbons that crop up in October leave me with an ick factor that I have written about before.

Here is a recent example.

During part of the month of August, Cedar Fair's Kings Island ran a fundraiser for the Komen Foundation. Yesterday they presented the infamous giant checks for $185,000; certainly not peanuts. But here's how they raised the money. Ticket prices were discounted -- you can buy them online for $34.99 and at the gate they are $49.99. During this promotion, you could get a ticket for $29.99 and $1 of the ticket price was donated to Komen.

$1.

3%.

Also, you could buy a pink rubber duck and throw it into their reflecting pool. At the end of the Chuck a Duck promotion one duck is drawn and the purchaser won a Toyota Yaris. $5 per duck. I asked Komen at the beginning what they were going to do with the ducks, ready to be irate about the addition to our landfills, but they said that the ducks will be reused next year. Of course, I didn't ask and don't know what how or where the ducks were made and admittedly, this gal could drive herself nuts overthinking this.

At some point, awareness becomes inadequate. I am not disrespecting the good that has come from it, nor the pure intentions of people throwing their support toward it. I am saying that we need to move beyond chucking ducks and slaps on the back of support.

Nothing drives this point home better than that picture on Kings Island's home page. The young woman pictured in the pink wig died this year of breast cancer at age 32, leaving behind a grieving husband and a four year old daughter. All the awareness and pink ducks in the world didn't save her.

Poetry Friday

2010-08-27T20:04:00.001-04:00

Sorry for the spotty posting this week. Turns out Mama needs to adjust to the back to school schedule too.

As summer fades into fall, I always get a little nostalgic. I put this poem on an ezine I made for WWFC this week, but I love it so much I'm putting it here too.

The Faces of Children

~Elizabeth Spires

Meeting old friends after a long time, we see
with surprise how they have changed, and must imagine,
despite the mirror's lies, that change is upon us, too.

Once, in our twenties, we thought we would never die.
Now, as one thoughtlessly shuffles a deck of cards,
we have run through half our lives.

The afternoon has vanished, the evening changing
us into four shadows mildly talking on a porch.
And as we talk, we listen to the children play

the games that we played once. In joy and terror,
they cry out in surprise as the seeker finds the one in hiding,
or, in fairytale tableau, each one is tapped and turned

to stone. The lawn is full of breathing statues who wait
to be changed back again, and we can do nothing but stand
to one side of our children's games, our children's lives.

We are the conjurors who take away all pain,
and we are the ones who cannot take away the pain at all.
They do not ask, as lately we have asked ourselves

Who was I then? And what must I become?
Like newly minted coins, their faces catch what light
there is. They are so sure of us, more sure

than we are of ourselves. Our children: who gently
push us toward the end of our own lives. The future
beckons brightly. They trust us to lead them there.

More cause marketing examples

2010-08-30T00:52:00.001-04:00

As we careen toward October, Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I've decided to start a file of questionable uses of the pink ribbon. First a disclaimer: This is not a black and white situation to me. Many of the organizations I'll mention have been important to lots of people. I am not condemning any of them, nor the people who support them. I am simply trying to help you look with a critical eye; to realize that companies know that breast cancer leaves us all feeling helpless; to dig a little deeper.

On facebook, I receive notifications from the Young Survival Coalition. The announced the other day a program from Veronica Brett -- they are offering new mastectomy swim wear and will donate 10% of online purchases In July and August to YSC. I clicked the link and saw that their swimsuits sell for $200! If you read on the facebook page, you'll see that I spoke up immediately. Speaking from experience, swim wear after a mastectomy sans reconstruction and sans prosthetics is a challenge. Few places sell them, even fewer sell ones that anyone under age 70 would wear so I expect them to be a little bit pricey. But I can't think of a person who could or would pay that kind of money and the $20 to YSC is no incentive.

I clipped this one out of the coupon section the other day. The Hamilton Collection presents Hop for Hope.

Please note the verbiage that comes after the pink ribbon:

A portion of the proceeds from this figurine will be donated to help fight breast cancer.

On their website, it says this:

Hope Hops Here Figurine

Limited-edition glass frog has pink face and back with hand-painted spots, pink awareness ribbon. Portion of proceeds supports breast cancer research.

Measures 2-1/2" H

The figurine sells for $24.99 + $7.99 shipping and handling. The problem, as I see it, is that it doesn't say how much will be donated, nor does it say who the beneficiary of the donation will be.

When I was at Kroger the other day, I picked up some cat litter. I was immediately attracted to the cat litter with the pink ribbon on it and since it was the same price, I purchased it and brought it home to photograph it.

I peeled the label and here's what it said on the back:

So, basically, they were just telling us that they support breast cancer. Without reading the back of the label, you might believe that your purchase is helping the cause. Oh, and, it doesn't say how much it donated and to whom.

To me, the question to ask is... Who is really getting the benefit here?

Last day of summer break

2010-08-23T20:31:00.000-04:00

Usually I'm jumping out of my skin with excitement for the kids to go back to school. Not so much this year. We had a good summer and I could stand another few weeks of it.

But it's time to go back and the days are getting shorter. I'm grateful for the summer we've had and look forward to next year's break.

Tomorrow I am going to discuss some examples of pinkwashing. If you are interested in refreshing yourself on the topic, HERE's the link to my first post on it last here.

But for now it's bedtime. Six AM is going to roll around early tomorrow.

Poetry Friday

2010-08-20T05:45:00.003-04:00

Today I am featuring my two favorite poets in the world. They are both extremely talented people, but I may be a tad biased by the fact that they're my kids. My daughter took a writing class this summer at WWFC and read this during their public read around on the last day.

Puzzle

By Grace (age 10)

I remember yesterday at the
park, birdsong echoing off the
trees. My fellow writers scatter
around, some play games under
the trees, others lay down
to write. This feels like my
life, scattered, but not lost.
I am like a jigsaw puzzle,
waiting to be picked up and
put back together. As people
pass me by, one question
lingers in the air,
WILL YOU?

A few weeks after, my son handed me a poem that he wrote.

What Do You Love?
By Jackson (age 8)

I'm Jackson
I'm very energetic
I like sports and I like games
I'm 8 years old
My sister is 10 and
I love my mom and dad
I have a cat. I love him too,
I like my room
I like my clothes
I love my sister too.
This is the end but wait one second
I have to ask you one
more question.
What Do You Love?

EPL

2010-08-19T06:58:00.000-04:00

Three years ago I read Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love. To be more precise, I listened to it on audio to and from work back when I had a long daily commute. It was read by the author, one of my favorite features of audio books. The basic gist of this autobiographical story is this: Gilbert's life was falling apart. She was a journalist of some renown but for reasons she does not really discuss, her marriage is falling apart. She's desperate, nervous breakdown-ish and maybe a little suicidal when she hears a voice telling her everything will be alright. She moves forward with her divorce and into depression. The highlight of her life becomes learning to speak Italian.

Anyway, she gets a book contract that involves her traveling the world to find a way to put her life back together. She travels abroad for a year -- Eat = Italy; Pray = India; Love = Bali. It's a transformative year; by facing her brokenness and looking directly into her own darkness, she progresses toward healing her mind, body and spirit.

I got a lot out of the book which I ended up drawing upon as I coped with breast cancer a year later. I blogged about it back in the day.

In Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, she spends a year trying to come to terms with her broken self. Towards the end, she describes a solo retreat she took, where she spent the time in silence fighting her demons. She meditated on some of the most horrible things that had happened or that she had ever done in her life, thought about them, then told them they were welcome to live in her heart, that it was over and done with, that they were loved. She believed that they wanted to be acknowledged and embraced; by doing so she took away their power to torment her.

What a tremendous amount of energy we spend trying to keep all of our embarrassment and shame from creeping into our dreams. Freedom comes when we accept our own shadows, from knowing that a shadow means that there is a strong light shining on us.

I do remember thinking as I was listening to the book that it's good work if you can get it. I am a person who sees things through the lens of class. While I was privileged to attend schools some might call elitist, I have never strayed far from the knowledge that my working class parents struggled and sacrificed to put me there. My perspective, I believe, has been shaped by a unique exposure to entitlement and fears of unworthiness.

During the book I did think about how luxurious it must be to be able to drop out of life for a year and find yourself. But I really did learn some solid lessons from her, so on balance I liked the book.

Then I found out Julia Roberts was going to star in the movie. Not a fan. In general, I worried that Hollywood would take an internal journey and trivialize it into a "chick flick." Then I read THIS REVIEW. Here's an excerpt:

In a way I almost prefer the old colonials in their pith helmets trampling over the Empire’s far-flung outposts. At least they were somewhat honest in their dealings. They wanted the gold, the cotton, and laborers for their sugar plantations. And they wanted to bring Western civilization, afternoon tea and anti-sodomy laws to godforsaken places riddled with malaria and Beriberi.

The new breed is more sensitive, less overt. They want to spend a year in a faraway place on a “journey.” But the journey is all about what they can get. Not gold, cotton or spices anymore. They want to eat, shoot films (or write books), emote and leave. They want the food, the spirituality, the romance.

Wow! I thought. Am I the ugly American for not seeing that she was exploiting, or at least flaunting wealth in the countries she visited? Like all good indecisive 40 somethings, I put it up on facebook. Mostly people said they were really bothered by Gilbert's sense of entitlement. One brave soul jumped in and said she didn't find the book self-indulgent at all and was grateful Gilbert was willing to bare her soul for all of us.

Now I'm left wondering about this. Is the book self-indulgent? Yes, I can see that it is. As a middle class American with responsibilities I could never go on such a journey. I'm left to sort through my own crises between getting the kids on the school bus, paying bills and updating the class schedule on the website for work. This review opened my eyes though, that a lot of people in this world don't even have the opportunities to search their souls at all, and I can't believe that my classism alarm didn't sound three years ago.

But I'm going to say no also. I think that we tend to trivialize inner work, soul searching and self-discovery. I daresay that translates into trivializing the yin, the feminine. While I definitely have a part of me that says that the only way to move forward is to DO something, I am learning that your ghosts don't go away just because you want to be the tough guy. I guess if Gilbert were just a woman sitting on her porch, drinking coffee and thinking about stuff, we'd never buy the book.

And I'm still going to say that on balance the book was worth it.

But Julia Roberts.

I think this will, at best, be on the Netflix list.

Local cow

2010-08-18T05:46:00.001-04:00

For the last few months, I have been trying to make food decisions that are better for me, my family and the world in general. It's hard to break away from the convenience and relative inexpensiveness of grocery store foods and I'm certainly not perfect, but I'm increasingly convinced that the only way we will ever minimize the social and ecological impact of industrial farming is to stop demanding cheap chicken and start eating food that is locally in season.

Last Thanksgiving, I bought a locally raised turkey, mostly to avoid the hormones and antibiotics that are pumped in industrial meats. I had to pick up the farm back in the "processing building." I was a little shocked by all the feathers on the gravel drive. And of course I envisioned the scene that led to all of those feathers, and that vision was full of panic and mayhem.

It's easy when meat comes shrink-wrapped in our grocer's freezer. We might as well think that it was produced in the widget factory down the street. It's hard, for me at least, to acknowledge the connection between my nachos and a living creature. I think it's important to acknowledge the brutal truth of it all.

That said, I bought a quarter of a cow last week. It will be ready for me next week and we'll have 75 pounds of meat for the deep freezer. Searching on the internet for the best deal and the best farm was disturbing too because they all had pictures of happy cows grazing peacefully. I hope that I will become more mindful in my consumption since I can connect it to the unwitting sacrifice of another living creature.

Here's the unintended consequence. I think I'm totally freaking the kids out. They already told me not to call the beef a "cow." I took them to a store on a local farm today to get some fresh eggs. Turkeys were frolicking in the pasture next to the store. The kids asked why they had so many. I turned around and looked at them both in the back seat and they were mortified.

The both told me they've decided to become vegetarians. It's hard to me imagine thinking about being a vegetarian at that age. It's another parenting balancing act -- I want them to be conscious consumers, but I don't want them to be burdened with the weight of guilt. I think though, if we all got a little closer to our food sources, we would grow in compassion and gratitude. Maybe everything would become a little less disposable too. I'm certain that our health would benefit.

New Showtime Show

2010-08-17T07:31:00.000-04:00

I caught the premier of The Big C, a new Showtime offering staring Laura Linney.

I would have missed it entirely, but my husband thought I might be interested. I knew nothing about the show but guessed its topic by the title. It reminded me of my father who called it The Big Casino.

Because I am me, I journaled about it before I watched it convinced that it would either piss me off in its avoidance of the real issues of a cancer diagnosis or be so true to life that it would be too close to home to handle. Gotta love that leeway I give myself, huh?

So here's the gist of the story. Linney's character, Cathy, is the mother of a teenage son and in the process of separating from her husband. By the time the show begins, we see flashbacks of a recent diagnosis she received of terminal melanoma. She has apparently refused chemotherapy because it would only buy her a little more time and who knows what kind of quality time it would be. She hasn't told anyone yet, but in her shock is seeing her life from a new point of view and realizing that she became a practical, reliable and boring person somewhere along the path of adulthood. Not surprisingly, she decides she wants to change that. Did I mention that this is a comedy?

I had neither reaction to the show. It's not dealing at a depth level, for sure, but parts were entertaining. In the flashback scene when she's with her doctor, the normally quiet and reserved Cathy is babbling like a brook. That made me chuckle because as I think I have mentioned before, I can't imagine the bizarre reactions that doctors get in these situations.

And I had to keep reminding myself it was a television show, not a documentary or something happening to one of my friends. Like other television shows it drives me nuts when the characters sit back and allow misunderstandings to go uncorrected. I know that is the making of good drama but I want to reach through the screen and choke those characters. I really wanted to choke her for missing every opportunity to tell her loved ones about her diagnosis. In one would-be reconciliation scene with her husband, the phone rings and her doctor leaves a cryptic message that her husband interprets as being about an affair. Of course she just stands there as he levels his accusations and storms out.

Even though this is completely ridiculous, I found her lack of treatment choice offensive. I have a friend who has Stage 4 cancer and has gone through hell and high water to beat back the beast. You can read about her here.

My bottom line... it's your typical drama/comedy. I love laughing at cancer, but this show isn't particularly enlightening, so far at least. I'd probably react the same to it 5 years ago as I am now and I'll probably keep watching it to see what develops.

Engineering Pharmaceuticals

2010-08-16T09:09:00.001-04:00

I heard an interesting radio show on my local NPR station. Produced by Purdue, it offers an hour long introduction to the issues and challenges surrounding the pharmaceutical industry. Unfortunately, I was putting on my swimsuit when it came on and was unable to convince my children to skip the pool and instead listen to this broadcast. I found the online link and listened later.

The show gives an interesting survey of the current state of the industry and included the following topics:

It costs one billion dollars to bring a drug to market in the US and takes an average of fifteen years. The majority of drugs never make it to market so pharmaceutical companies take on huge risks and experience high failure rates.
The FDA approval process is pretty dry, so they borrow from Schoolhouse Rock to explain it.
In diseases like cancer, scientists have learned that everyone's disease is different. Cancer used to be treated by generally poisoning all of us, but now there are medicines that stop the blood flow to tumors along certain protein paths. Much of a company's research involves understanding the biology of specific diseases. How do they determine which disease to study? One example of these drugs near and dear to me is Genentech's Herceptin. From a personal point of view, I was reminded of how lucky I am to be here right now.
How much does direct marketing to consumers contribute to the costs?
If a company needs to recoup the billion dollars, either the drug is going to have to appeal to a lot of people or it's going to cost a whole lot. In the cases of rare cancers, like most childhood cancers, it may not be economically feasible to develop special drugs. In essence, people with rare cancers end up becoming test cases for off label drug usage.
How do drug manufacturers ensure the purity of drugs? For example, if a pill needs to be 10% active ingredient, how do they make sure each one delivers the proper dosage, not one at 5% and one at 15% to average?
The cases for and against patents. They are costly and not always recognized outside of the issuing country.
Access to these medications in both the US and the developing world.
How those of us who have benefited from this new research see all of this personally, as in "how much would you pay to stay alive?"
How does all of this fit into our current healthcare debate?

The show does not demonize the industry. I found it did an excellent job of representing opposing viewpoints so please don't take my bullet points as the definitive guide. It's a survey of the issues with as much depth as an hour will allow. The issues are extremely complicated and can seem overwhelming, but I think it's important to have a basic understanding, especially those of us who have been the recipient of these drugs or anyone who wants to understand the industry. Any one of these topics could lead to a lifetime of study.

By the way, I had to "open in a new tab" to get it to play. That could have just been my browser though.

Poetry Friday

2010-08-13T06:03:00.000-04:00

Honey

by Connie Wanek

Luxury itself, thick as a Persian carpet,
honey fills the jar
with the concentrated sweetness
of countless thefts,
the blossoms bereft, the hive destitute.

Though my debts are heavy
honey would pay them all.
Honey heals, honey mends.
A spoon takes more than it can hold
without reproach. A knife plunges deep,
but does no injury.

Honey moves with intense deliberation.
Between one drop and the next
forty lean years pass in a distant desert.
What one generation labored for
another receives,
and yet another gives thanks.

When's Yoda coming over?

2010-08-12T21:53:00.000-04:00

This parenting thing is definitely harder than it looks. I have hardly any room to complain because somehow I hit the jackpot with both of mine. Of course we've had some challenges that I usually pretend never happened, but they are exceptionally fine children.

Ok, maybe I'm a little biased.

My daughter is ten years old and lives with her head elsewhere most of the time. She's smart as all get out and a hard worker, but I have to check her hair every day to make sure she's rinsed out the conditioner.

Last year she had some Draconian oral surgery to pull in her front teeth, were stuck up next to her nasal cavity. Yes, it was as horrible as it sounds. Thankfully her teeth responded well and she is already out of her braces. Toward the end of the school year she had her braces removed and got a retainer.

She did such a good job caring for her retainer that I allowed her to get her ears pierced again for her birthday.

Another story about her... she got her ears pierced about 18 months before. She paid no attention to them and the back of her earlobe grew around her earring back. She had to have it removed at the Emergency Room of the Hospital on Mother's Day, 2008.

So she's been stepping it up -- taking good care of her retainer and her ears. Then somehow her retainer didn't make home from vacation with us. The orthodontist took a new cast of her teeth and made her a new one which we picked up last Tuesday.

This Tuesday she cried herself to sleep. Yep. You've got it. She lost it again. She can't remember where she had it last or even when she wore it last.

Livid doesn't begin to describe my reaction. She felt bad too. All day Wednesday she and her brother looked around for it. I'll give it to them, they really did try.

So my husband and I are left with this quandary. What do we do? She was planning to go to a birthday party on Thursday. Do we take that away? Do we take away some school activity?

I really had no idea. In fact, I actually asked my daughter what she thought we should do. She said that she thought she should pay for a new one. She also thought she needed some checklists to prevent this sort of thing in the future.

She's no stranger to the checklist.

So I consulted with my friends and did a gut check. Here's the balance I felt we were walking -- she needs to learn there are consequences to her actions vs. I want her to grow up to be a merciful and compassionate adult. I had a big ol' headache all day trying to decide what to do. I asked some friends and apparently all of my friends are pushovers. (hehe)

I started thinking about what happens to us grown ups when we screw up. Let's say I totally mangle a project. What do I have to do??

Fix it.

If I mess up a project, the company isn't going to come in and take my vacation away.

I decided to go the merciful route with her. She knew she'd screwed up and she knew she had to buy a new one. What more can I really ask for from a ten year old?

We worked out a payment plan -- I get half of her allowance until it's paid off. I tried to teach her about the calculate the pros and cons of finance plans and let her choose the best one.

Fortunately, we didn't lose the cast of her teeth, so I was able to take that back to the orthodontist and save us a little money. She is dreading going back in for the fitting once it's ready. "That's going to be embarrassing" she told me. That could be the most effective lesson of all.

But I really would like a reference manual, a crystal ball or a money back guarantee on this parenting stuff.

BONUS: Check this out. For a mere $19.95, you can buy a book full of lost retainer stories.

The Importance of Remembering

2010-08-11T20:36:00.000-04:00

I've been avoiding this post because thinking about this story makes me sick. But it's entirely because it makes me sick that it needs to be remembered.

On August 6, 1930, two African American teenagers, Thomas Shipp and Abram Smith, were killed in Marion, Indiana. They had been accused of killing a white factory worker and raping his companion. They were in jail along with James Cameron when a mob gathered and forced their way into their cells. The first was killed before he was hanged, the second was lynched. The third, Cameron, was taken to a tree and had a noose put around his neck but for reasons that aren't entirely clear he was released. In fact, he lived until 2006.

There had been no trial. Cameron was eventually tried, convicted to being an accessory to murder and sentenced to four years in prison. The crime was never solved and Evan Bayh pardoned him in 1993.

The picture of the crowd gathered around the lifeless hanging bodies of the two young men inspired Abel Meeropol to write a poem under the pen name Allen Lewis. The poem became the iconic Strange Fruit, immortalized by Billie Holiday.

I will not post the photo here because it is so gruesome, but I suggest you look the ugliness square in the eye. NPR did a thirteen minute Radio Diary on this story on the 80th anniversary of this lynching.

The radio piece is grueling, but the fact is that this happened within our nation's living memory. We like to put this behind us and acknowledge how far we've come. We'd especially like people who talk about this to "get over it."

Of course our society has improved, but for anyone who thinks we're all better now, I submit the following.

In 1998, James Byrd was murdered by three white men in Texas. He accepted a ride from the men who beat him, urinated on him and dragged him for two miles on the back of their pick up truck until they hit a culvert and decapitated him. Then they went to a barbecue. Two of the three murderers are on death row, the third received life in prison and will be eligible for parole in 2038.

Also in 1998, Matthew Shepard met two men at a bar. He accepted a ride from them and the two tied him to a fence and beat him. He was found in a coma but died shortly after. They claimed a "gay panic defense," stating that they were temporarily insane because Shepard made sexual advances toward the two. Through a series of bargains and deals, they each received two life sentences.

On April 15, 2010 Joe Wurzelbacher (Joe the Plumber) spoke at a Tea Party Event in Cincinnati. His solution to the immigration problem -- "Put a fence up and start shooting."

The Southern Poverty Law Center reported in 2009 that the number of hate groups in the US has risen 54% since 2000. If you really want your blood to run cold, read their accounts of attacks related to the campaign and election of President Obama.

If we believe we have somehow moved past the days of lynch mobs, we are fooling ourselves. I believe that we could descend back into that sort of anarchy at any moment. We have to remember these incidents not "get over" them. And we have to be so careful to remember that politicians and the media and scared people will try to divide us into "us" and "them." And once you create an "other" it's easy to blame them for your woes, to convince yourself that they are less worthy of unalienable rights than you are.

Listen to the story. Let me know what you think.

Poetry Friday

2010-08-06T08:57:00.002-04:00

Reliving Historyby Francette Cerulli

This must have been what it was like
the summer before the Great War,
quiet towns just like this, men and women
riding their bicycles through the streets
after dinner, no sound except their pedaling
and the squeaking of their seats under them,

the wet metal sound of grass being cut
always behind houses, out of sight,
all human voices murmuring or far away,
the pink and red zinnias blazing out at them
in that moment before dark,
the mix of the first woodsmoke
and the last apples so sharp
and sweet you could weep.

Thinking about the nature of our country

2010-08-05T20:47:00.000-04:00

I spent a lot of time in the car today listening to NPR. The judge overturning California's Proposition 8 was all over the news. It has raised questions for me and also answered a few. Like usual, this post will be full of more answers than questions.

1. People use the term "judicial activism" only when the judge rules in a way contrary to their beliefs.

2. I will never, ever understand why people think that in a nation with a 50% divorce rate, allowing homosexuals to marry will destroy the sanctity of marriage.

3. I will also never understand why we think that a pluralistic society should base its morality on the Christian text. Actually, I might understand that. It comes from the people who don't believe in a pluralistic society.

4. No one is saying that your church has to perform marriage for anyone. Not now, not in the future.

5. Why is it that whenever a heated discussion of this issue ensues, someone inevitably brings up the "slippery slope" argument. Why then does it always, always devolve into someone marrying a goat?

6. Ok, on a serious note. If someone's rights are constitutionally protected, do citizens have a right to vote on them? I think this is the crux. First, is the right of any legal consenting adult to marry constitutionally protected? Second, do I get to have a say in that? Here's my example. What if my state ratifies an issue saying that Baptists are not allowed to hold services. Can we do that?

Personally, I couldn't care less who is getting married as long as they are equals. It's like a contract -- sound mind and body and all that. I don't understand the hysteria surrounding this.

Local book

2010-08-04T19:44:00.000-04:00

Click here to read about local author Tami Boemher who has recently published a book about cancer survivors, From Incurable to Incredible. It is certainly an inspirational project.

In October she will join us at WWFC for a breast cancer event. I will also be talking about some of the issues I tackled in my writing project. More details to come but keep Oct 19 open!

I'm fired up

2010-08-03T22:07:00.000-04:00

Nope, not because it's 2,000 degrees in the Midwest with 6 gazillion percent humidity, although that doesn't help one bit.

This story has been scrambling around in the background, but today it's all over the place. In Manhattan, plans are going forward on the Park51 project, a 15 story building that will include fitness facilities, a library, meditation rooms and, oh yeah, a mosque. The inclusion of a mosque coupled with its proximity to Ground Zero has led to an embarrassing display or islam-o-mania.

Sarah Palin infamously tweeted a plea to "peaceful Muslims" to "refudiate" this mosque. Newt Gingrich agrees. Thousands protested in June. This so-called Christian Center is taking donations as a stand against evil. There's this facebook group.

That's just about two minutes of google research. I doubt I have to convince you that there is a negative reaction to this.

Here's the deal. Pull up a chair and listen closely. I hope I only have to explain this once.

ISLAM did not fly planes into the WTC and the Pentagon on 9/11/01. ISLAM did not kill approximately 3,000 people that horrible day. It was the work of 19 people, manifesting the plans of a radical and probably downright evil terrorist organization. Yes, they use Islam as an excuse for their vile acts. But the heinous act was masterminded by one man -- Osama bin Laden. There are a wide variety of opinions of the cohesiveness of Al Qaeda and of the influence bin Laden actually holds, but lets just say for kicks that he had 5,000 people in his organization.

There are likely 1.5 billion Muslims in our world. If my math is correct (and it's suspect) bin Laden's organization represents .0003% of the Muslim population.

Let's pretend for a minute that I am organizing protests against allowing churches to be built next to schools, because priests molest kids. Pretty ignorant, huh?

Well, what's the difference?

Here's the difference. Muslim people are "others." They don't dress like us and they don't worship like us so they're easy to demonize. We've been doing it for nine years now and it's back in our faces now.

This is America, people, the land of the free and the home of the brave. Not the land of the free Christians and the home of the familiar looking descendants of Western Europeans. I thought we beat this fear-based xenophobia in November of 2008, but I guess I expected counted those proverbial chickens before they hatched.

Nothing good comes from making decisions based on anger and fear. That goes for the individual and the collective. The day we decide Muslims aren't as deserving of freedom of worship as the rest of us are is the day the terrorists have already won.

If you need a primer, I suggest Orwell's Animal Farm. After the animals revolt and take over the farm, they hang a sign that says "All Animals are Equal." Over time the sign is changed:

All Animals are Equal
but Some Animals are
More Equal than Others.

There is no shortage of morality tales, allegories and real-life examples of why this knee jerk emotional reaction is completely, unequivocally wrong. What's it going to take for us to learn?

Wiki Whosits?

2010-08-02T12:41:00.000-04:00

I remember in the early 1990s when the story broke about tennis star Arthur Ashe contracting AIDS. At the time AIDS still carried a heavy taboo and a certain death. USA TODAY got wind of a rumor about his disease and called him to confirm it. Ashe asked for 36 hours before the story would air in order to hold a press conference the next day. USA TODAY refused to promise and ran the story. Later, other reporters came forward to say they knew about his condition, but had honored Ashe's request for privacy.

My father was a life-long sports reporter for a paper owned by the same company that owns USA TODAY. He was retired at the time and also very ill. During his career he was an active member of the Newspapers Guild. At dinner one night I asked him what he thought of the ethics of USA TODAY's actions. He answered simply: the freedom of the press is absolute.

Earlier this year, I attended one day of the gut-wrenching trial of serial killer Anthony Kirkland. The day I attended, the mother of one of his teenage victims testified. She asked not to be filmed during testimony and the court honored her request. After her exhausting testimony detailed the day of her only daughter's death, she sat outside the courtroom in a sort of dazed state of exhaustion. I noticed local news reporters with their i-phones filming her. Court security took one to task, asking him to respect the mother's wishes not to be filmed. The reporter pointed out that was during testimony and she was no longer in the court room.

Last week, Wikileaks released some 90,000 pages of classified documents leaked to them. Now, I haven't read any of them so I am going by what others have said about them. Supposedly they detail war crimes, but they also reportedly reveal the identity of Afghan informants. According the the administration, there are no stunning revelations.

I have gone back and forth in the last week wondering if the Wikileakers are heroes or assholes. Julian Assange, owner, has been all over the media defending his actions. First off, his mumbling drives me nuts. I can only understand about every third word he says. Second, he is vehemently opposed to the war, so it seems to me that he is going to be sympathetic to the documents that support his point of view.

I don't think we as a people have any kind of lofty ideas about the inherent nobility of war. We've come a long way from last century's propaganda films. I think we all understand the horrors of war. However, the life and death burdens of our current war fall on the military and military families while the rest of us can choose to tune in or out to the news.

I've been wondering about all of these stories. Of course, the freedom of the press IS absolute under our Constitution and I would never support any limitation of that. But is there a deeper layer here, indicative of a larger problem? We all have a right to information, but do we really have a NEED for it? There's a saying I rely heavily on, "just because you can, it doesn't mean you should."

I suspect at some point the quest for a scoop, with resulting money, praise and recognition, gets disguised as something more noble, the public's right to know. On the other hand, I'm not comfortable with a Big Daddy figure deciding what information is necessary and what isn't.

From the other side, what sort of information are we demanding from experts? Chelsea Clinton's wedding dress? Lindsay Lohan's prison time? Information that supports what we already believe? Or do we look for information with integrity?

Even more disturbing to me is this question. With the demise of the local newsrooms, who is vetting the information that reaches us?

Poetry Friday

2010-07-30T12:59:00.000-04:00

Begin

Begin again to the summoning birds
to the sight of light at the window,
begin to the roar of morning traffic
all along Pembroke Road.

Every beginning is a promise
born in light and dying in dark
determination and exaltation of springtime
flowering the way to work.
Begin to the pageant of queuing girls
the arrogant loneliness of swans in the canal
bridges linking the past and future
old friends passing though with us still.

Begin to the loneliness that cannot end
since it perhaps is what makes us begin,
begin to wonder at unknown faces
at crying birds in the sudden rain
at branches stark in the willing sunlight
at seagulls foraging for bread
at couples sharing a sunny secret
alone together while making good.

Though we live in a world that dreams of ending
that always seems about to give in
something that will not acknowledge conclusion
insists that we forever begin.

~ Brendan Kennelly ~