Times were uncertain. It was World War II, and Dad was overseas, serving in the U.S Navy. Mom and I lived with my Polish grandparents, but she kept their apartment so we would have a place of our own when Dad returned. She worked long hours in a local laundry to make that dream come true.
My Mom – My Heroine Read More »
Giving ninety days’ notice to leave a job as a family physician at a community health center provided ample opportunity for me to say goodbye to patients. I listened carefully at farewell visits. A Black patient minced no words as she proclaimed to me, a White woman, “I will tell you what I like most about you. You listen and you don’t act like you know more about my body just because you’re a doctor.” Her words made a profound impact on me.
I wake up in a hospital isolation room, where everything smells weird. It’s 1967 in Galway City, Ireland, and I’m four years old.
The worst smell is the antiseptic—a word I don’t know yet. The second smell is the crayons and newssheet coloring books on the nightstand. Christmas is gone, so how can these be for me?
The family lore would say that I spent nearly seven weeks in that hospital. That’s forty-nine days or 1,176 hours’ worth of temperature checks, dosages, white-coated doctors.
What Remains From the Pediatric Ward Read More »
I recently had open heart surgery. A highly skilled surgeon replaced my leaky mitral valve, and I’ll be forever indebted to him.
But my surgeon was only one of member of the team that got me through a challenging, frightening, painful experience. Behind him were a legion of unsung heroes, without whom I never could’ve endured. Uppermost in my mind are the nursing assistants.
A Special Kind of Care Read More »
She was twenty-three years old and had four children. She lived in a small town, and her husband used their one vehicle to get to work each day. She had loads of diapers to wash and put through the wringer, then hang on the line to dry. She had meals to make, a lawn to mow, a garden to tend, a house to clean, and a husband who expected meat and potatoes for supper every day.
Decades ago, I worked with hospitalized children and their families as a child life specialist on the pediatric unit of a local hospital. We cared for kids from birth through age 18.
While some elderly people, either by choice or illness, have “retired” from community activities, a vast number of older individuals fuel the world through volunteering, continuing education, mentoring and role modeling. We deliver Meals on Wheels, stock food banks and care for neighbors who cannot fend for themselves. Many of us usher at local theatres, reminding patrons that theatre is an essential part of life, nourishing the soul and mind.
Dear Pulse readers,
During my first year of medical school, I came down with type 1 diabetes–the kind that requires insulin, the kind they used to call “juvenile onset,” even though I was thirty years old.
The symptoms were classic–raging thirst and a constant need to pee–but as a first-year student I hadn’t learned that yet, and as a previously healthy adult I couldn’t believe that my body would be so underhanded as to betray me.
April More Voices: Unsung Heroes Read More »
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