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Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, mirror on the wall: who’s the fairest one of all? Not me! And probably not you! Ok, maybe YOU!

I started a new research project this week to further explore exercises that are beneficial to brain-injured people. In this study, participants put their weaker hand into a box that has a mirror on the side. They then do various hand exercises, observing their “good” hand in the mirror as they move their fingers. This tricks their brain into thinking that their weak hand is adequately performing the tasks. This activity, as well as other exercises we do in the Adaptive Physical Education class, is designed to reprogram our brains.

Reprogram our brains? That sounds weird. We are not being brainwashed. The human brain is capable of reorganizing neural pathways based on new experiences. This is called brain plasticity.

Mirror, Mirror is being done alongside Wii-hab, which is entering its second semester. Biology students are running both projects. Although brain rehab strategies is quickly becoming my area of expertise, I’m still a marine biologist and try to “keep my feet wet” when possible.

For example, the Pacifica Chamber of Commerce asked me to help plan their new window display showcasing the local marine environment. While I’m not really in the market for more volunteer work, I couldn’t possibly say no to this opportunity to be creative while thinking about fish! The current display includes a fully-articulated sea lion skeleton. This skeleton,on loan from another organization, is being moved, hence the need for a makeover.

I’m still figuring out how to get students involved in the project. It’s a fantastic opportunity for an aspiring marine biologist!

Nastiness

Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do good people do bad things? Why does Radio Shack ask for your phone number when you buy batteries?

These are some of life’s unanswerable questions.

My daughter says that there are four types of people in the world: people who are nice, people who are smart, people who are dumb, and people who are mean. We saw a very scary, graphic movie, and after sitting for two hours, it was enormously difficult for me to stand. The aisle had a slant, which made it more difficult. The disturbing film also freaked me out. I stood, but despite Abby’s best effort, I fell back into the seat, whacking my back into the armrest. As my daughter helped me to my feet and guided me out of the theater, we noticed people around us staring. A few of them snickered. One person chortled. Most people do not fall into the fourth category above. They didn’t laugh and stare because they were mean. They laughed and stared because they thought I was drunk. They weren’t mean; they were dumb. It was the end of a two-hour movie, I was with a child, and it was the middle of the day. While it was not outside the realm of possibility that someone could be that staggeringly drunk, it was outside the realm of common sense. My daughter was having difficulty helping me, and I was injured; yet no one came to our aid .

Here’s another example: you decide which category they fall into. My book, When Life Throws You Lemons…Make  Cranberry  Juice! has a Facebook page and I recently posted that my book is for sale through the book’s website. I can sell the books that I have in stock for a much lower price than my publisher is offering. Anyway, one of my “fans” wrote, “I DON’T WANT TO BUY YOUR BOOK! GO AWAY!” this person is a grandmother and one of her favorite sayings is “what goes around comes around.”

I replied to her comment in a professional tone, explaining that there was no need for her to be nasty- she could easily remove herself from my page. I blocked all Facebook contact with her, in an effort to delete disrespectful people from my life.

I’ve decided to do that in real life too. I will not accept nastiness as a method of communication-whether it’s the grocery clerk, the pest-control guy or my mechanic (who I love, by the way).

Let’s have a vote: which category does the Facebook Lady fall in to?

Cranberries

Someone recently asked me if I teach all these classes because I have to or because I want to. Isn’t that a question that plagues everyone as they get ready to go to work each morning?

This semester I’m adding an online section of Marine Biology to my schedule, and soon, I’m planning to add the lecture portion of Introductory Biology to my schedule. Am I ready to take on more classes? No. Was I ready to return to full-time teaching? No.

But, when was I ever ready for big changes in my life? Had I been ready  to get married, get divorced, buy a home or have my first baby? I had to bite the bullet and “just do it.”

To get inspired for my marine biology course, I took my kids for a visit to the newly remodeled Steinhart Aquarium in San Francisco. I had visited this Aquarium regularly since I moved to California in1986. I had not been there since they remodeled, or since my surgery. One thing that struck me early in my visit was that there seemed to really be an effort to make it elegant inside. I generally don’t think of science or aquariums as being elegant, so I wasn’t sure if I liked the changes. As we walked (or rolled–I borrowed a wheelchair) through the exhibits, I didn’t feel the same rush of excitement that I had felt in the past.

I tried to figure out what was wrong. Part of the problem is that before my brain surgery, I could observe exhibits of ecosystems and immerse myself in the possibility of visiting live, wild ecosystems one day. Now hiking through natural ecosystems seems to be an unrealistic goal. Before I immersed myself in the idea that I would never see wild animals again, I reminded myself that I saw the largest animal on the planet a few weeks ago!

Again, when I am hit with “lemons,” I remind myself of “cranberries!”

When Life Throws You Lemons…Make Cranberry Juice!

Feedback

My friend Paul, who hadn’t seen me in a while, approached me at the gym and told me he didn’t say “hi” at first because he didn’t recognize me! He said that I not only looked different, but I was moving differently as well. He made a point of telling me that it wasn’t a subtle difference, but a marked difference.

I have often found an analogy between the extreme rehabilitation I am going through and losing weight. If you see someone every day while they are losing weight, you may not notice a difference. But, if you see someone less frequently, you will notice a difference as they shed those excess pounds.

Friends that I see less frequently have a great perspective on my progress. This feedback is especially important since measurable changes, like stepping on a scale, are not readily available.

Any change that I do notice is important, but I have to record it on a very long-term chart. Big changes, like going from the wheelchair to the walker to the cane to nothing, are notable, but now it seems to be more subtle changes that are important. Am I taking longer strides? Am I bending my left knee more when I walk? Am I getting fewer comments about being drunk?

While Paul may notice major changes in me, it is more difficult to see these changes in myself. I still hesitate, for example, when I step onto or off of a curb. These negative thoughts can be overwhelming, if i don’t try to expunge them. Sometimes it’s hard to remember, for example, that a year ago, I always hung on to something when dealing with a curb. A year ago, I didn’t run errands by myself, or make my own phone calls. Today, I went to the hardware store and the bank by myself.

I realize that running my own errands may not seem like a victory, but it’s a change. Truthfully, any change is good. Thanks, Paul, for the feedback!

Stroke Network Volunteer

I added a volunteer position to my life this week. I am the new News Administrator for the Stroke Network. The Stroke Network comprises a network of websites geared toward supporting stroke survivors, and loved ones of stroke survivors. The creator of the Stroke Network contacted me through Facebook and asked if I would be willing to take on this position. They needed someone with an academic background.

Mostly what I do as News Administrator is choose articles to be shared with the public via their website. I WAS told to choose only stroke-related articles. Too bad, because I would have added an article about the whale that breached and landed on a sailboat!

My first thought upon reading that story was surprise because whales are intelligent, and non-aggressive, and generally don’t fall on boats. Then I thought, humans are generally intelligent and don’t usually drive into buildings or on sidewalks! There is always a potential for danger when someone is in close proximity to a 40,000 pound whale or a 3000 pound car.

I am wondering now what would happen if a whale had a stroke, or a large brain tumor. If a whale started experiencing the symptoms I experienced, dizziness and nausea, what would happen? They could certainly breach in the wrong place or fall in the wrong direction.

While there would obviously be no treatment for a whale that had a stroke, there are some very effective treatments for humans that have had a stroke. These treatments, however, must be administered within hours of the onset of the stroke–which means that early recognition of stroke symptoms is critical. Here is a list of signs that a person is having a stroke, from the American Stroke Association.

• Sudden numbness or weakness of the face, arm or leg, especially on one side of the body
• Sudden confusion, trouble speaking or understanding
• Sudden trouble seeing in one or both eyes
• Sudden trouble walking, dizziness, loss of balance or coordination
• Sudden, severe headache with no known cause

If any of these symptoms are exhibited, go to the nearest emergency room.

July 26

I am writing this on July 26, 2010. I can’t help but think about this day, four years ago. I woke up feeling hopeful that my pain would soon be over. I had been feeling sick for months, and I had every reason to believe that my surgery would be successful.

My dad and step-mom, who were staying at a nearby hotel, picked me up at 6 AM for our trip to UCSF Medical Center. I was not scared of having brain surgery-I was just worried about the needles! I called my sister on the way to the hospital, just to let her know I was OK. That was the last time she would hear my “normal” voice.

When we arrived at the hospital, we parked, walked to the waiting room, and, well, waited. After a short time, I was called into a cubicle where I changed into a hospital gown and had the IV inserted. Every hospital employee I came in contact with asked me what procedure I was having.

LEFT RETROSIGMOID CRANIOTOMY
LEFT RETROSIGMOID CRANIOTOMY
LEFT RETROSIGMOID CRANIOTOMY
LEFT RETROSIGMOID CRANIOTOMY

I said this to receptionists, technicians, nurses and doctors. They wanted to be sure to operate on the correct (not right) side of my head. Part of me wanted to tape a note to my head that said, “Cut here.”

I got through the insertion of needles, with my dad saying, “I don’t feel anything,” like always. Then, they gave me the “good” drugs and wheeled me off to surgery.

My brain tumor was successfully removed on that fateful day, but unforeseen complications have left me with lifelong difficulties.

This day, July 26, will always be a tough day for finding cranberries. My kids are always sensitive to my moods, and tonight was no exception. They brought home dinner and we watched trashy TV together!

While the past four years have been excruciatingly difficult, cranberries such as my kids, trashy TV, and chocolate balance out my life’s lemons.

I have shared my complete story in my book, When Life Throws You Lemons…Make Cranberry Juice! Signed copies of this book may now be purchased through the book’s website at http://www.wix.com/lemonsandcranberries/lemons, or through my publisher at www. Publishamerica.com.

Whale Watching

The boat capsized and we were all tossed into the ocean. Able-bodied people were, of course, able to don life-preservers, but I was unable to put one on myself. So, there I was-unable to swim, unable to tread water-nearly going under the cold, green water when a huge mass of muscle came from below and pushed me to the surface. I had always imagined that riding on the back of a whale would require balance, but the blue whale is so massive that it was more like sitting on a huge rubber mat.

Blue Whale, Monterey Bay July 20, 2010. Photo by Abby Snitovsky

Then I woke up.

That was a dream I had the night before going whale watching for the first time since my surgery.

Monterey Bay is my favorite place for whale watching. A deep canyon lies just offshore so within minutes of leaving the dock we were in “large whale territory.” During the summer months, humpback whales and blue whales feed in Monterey Bay.

As the boat motored out of the harbor, we saw sea otters and sea lions. I stood and held on tightly. A crew member offered to find me a seat, but I didn’t want to displace anyone. I knew that people would get up as soon as we started seeing whales. For some reason I didn’t remember that by that point, the boat would be rocking and it would be more difficult to walk around. I had to move from where I was standing, and, even with Abby’s help, I ended up falling. Then, of course, I got a seat! As Abby, Andy, and the First Mate were helping me up, I whispered to Abby, “I knew I’d get a seat if I fell!” She thought it was a scam, but it really wasn’t.

We ended up having great sightings of humpback whales and blue whales. The photos shown in this blog were taken by Abby.

Friendly humpback whale, by the boat we DIDN'T take. Photo by Abby Snitovsky

Humpback whale fluke. Monterey Bay. July 20, 2010. Photo by Abby Snitovsky

Humpback whales. Monterey Bay. July 20, 2010. Photo by Abby Snitovsky

Home Town Visit

I refuse to write about the DMV again, so suffice it to say: I ended up retaking the road test, I passed, I’ll probably have to retake it every two years, and, yes, they’re still dementors!

I’ve recently returned to San Francisco after an interesting week in Milwaukee. I had a chance to reconnect with old friends, which was wonderful. One night, I presented my story at the Jewish Community Center. Over 30 people came to hear me speak, many of whom I had known for many years.

I told the story of my hospital stay and ongoing recovery, trying to interject humor where I could. The audience laughed in all the right places, so I knew they understood me. Following my presentation, I sold a few books and signed them to each individual.  There was a warm feeling in the room, a feeling of support and encouragement from these people I had grown up with.

We had dinner afterwards with my cousins. It was great spending time with them as well. My cousin David mentioned that he had tried to visit me in the hospital shortly after I moved to the rehab facility in Marin. He was in SF for a short stay and called to see if he could visit. They told him not to come in the evening for some reason, and he was unable to visit me during the remainder of his stay. I told him a philosophy I had picked up from someone I greatly respect: sometimes it’s better to apologize after than to ask permission before. I don’t know why anyone would have discouraged a visitor, but I was certainly “allowed” evening visitors. Actually, I never asked-people just came to visit me when they could, and the staff dealt with it. I wasn’t in prison!

In any case, it was fantastic to catch up with David, and my other wonderful friends, during this visit.

.

Altruism–or Not!

Altruism. What is it and why is it a necessary part of animal societies? I have taught courses that included animal behavior during most of my teaching career. You’d be surprised at the altruism that takes place in non-human, animal societies. Vampire bats share food (yes, blood) with each other, vervet monkeys shriek alarm calls to warn other monkeys of danger, and honey bees scout nectar sources to make it easier for the rest of the hive to find food.

Do humans rely on altruism as well? Recently, I was told that I use my kids and friends to perform tasks for me for free because I feel entitled to the help due to my disability. This person was extremely agitated after my suggestion that our two 12-year old boys could help an adult male friend of mine move a couch. After he dropped off a list of contractors that I could hire to perform such laborious tasks, we exchanged a series of emails in which he stated that he could not condone my “approach to things.” He was not only upset about moving the couch, but he also stated that I feel entitled to ask kids for favors like “hauling” groceries in from the car. My first response to that is that it didn’t take brain surgery for me to ask kids to bring groceries in from the car! My second response is that using the word “hauling” instead of “carrying” doesn’t make a bag of frozen peas any heavier!

This man’s attitude is definitely an exception to the offers of help and friendship I’ve received from other humans. Men, in particular, like to fix things. Most of the men in my life do not deal well with unsolvable, emotional problems. But a broken toilet? No problem! Women are better at dealing with my emotional meltdowns.

While this series of emails, which got more vicious with each round, upset me a bit, I made a joke out of it. I told my kids that I’m an  evil, child-abusing witch, and that they’d have to live with that! After seeing Wicked so many times that the ACTOR playing Fiyero actually waved to my daughter during the show (I didn’t believe it either, but I actually saw it), witches are COOL–even Wicked ones!

Government Treatment? Private Company Treatment?

Lady at Social Security Office: “Since it’s been more than two years since your divorce, you’ll need to provide additional identification to change your name. You need a document with your maiden name and your date of birth.”

Cindy: “How about her birth certificate?”

Lady: “No Ma’am, that only proves she was born, it can’t be used as identification.”

Huh? A piece of paper with my name and date of birth. You really can’t get more official than a birth certificate! She said a note from my doctor would work, as long as it’s stamped. I don’t know what that means either, but I called one of my 27 doctors and just asked them to make it look as official as possible.

In case you’re wondering why I didn’t take care of the name change earlier–I tried once before my surgery. I waited for two hours for them to call my number, then discovered that was the line to get your name put into a line. I didn’t have ALL day to sit there, so I had to leave. Shortly after, my symptoms started and I was off and running with this brain tumor adventure.

Contrast the policies that these government agencies have been bombarding me with to the service I received today from a private company. I ordered a gift basket (various food items) for someone today  to be delivered early next week. A few hours after placing the order, I  realized that the recipients would not be in town to receive the basket. I called Harry and David and explained my error. They said they couldn’t change the delivery date since the shipping label was already printed. I asked to speak to a supervisor. She explained that she would try to change the delivery date but that it may already be on the truck and on it’s way. She also said that coming home to a basket of goodies gone bad is unpleasant, but if that happens Harry and David would replace the basket at no charge. WHAT? I was so used to being told “tough luck” that I had a hard time believing that she was helping me.

What if the government were run like that? Trying to please you instead of trying to make things difficult. Just a thought.

Wicked!

Last week, I took Cindy to see Wicked for her birthday. We got the

tickets a couple of months ago, and it was a surprise for Cindy.

Keeping it a secret was difficult, but I just avoided any talk of the

theatre, the City, musicals, or The Wizard of Oz!

Our theatre-going group included my kids, Abby and Andy, Cindy’s

daughter, McKenna, and their friend Lily. I told Cindy we were going

to a fancy restaurant in the City (San Francisco) and that I had to

make reservations far in advance and that they couldn’t be changed.

Lily’s mom Laurie drove us into the City and stopped the car in front

of our pre-theatre restaurant. I then told Cindy that the special

restaurant was Burger King! Then I gave her her real present-6 tickets

to Wicked. I told her she could take whoever she wanted, but that we

were all there and ready to go!

After our meal fit for a King, we walked to the theatre (across the

street), and began the long climb to our seats. Basically, we went up

until their was no “up” left. We all enjoyed the show tremendously.

Following the performance, we went to the Stage Door where the kids

got autographs. We finally made it to BART (our subway system) at

around 11:45.

The first time I took BART after my surgery, I took Abby and a few

friends to San Francisco for a shopping spree.  As soon as I got on

the train, it started moving and I started falling. Abby described the

scene as watching a bomb go off in a movie. In a movie, all the people

in the area of the bomb are thrown backward like paper dolls. I was

thrown backward on the train. I had no control of my body.

Fortunately, Abby, McKenna and Lily caught me on the way down, so I

had a soft landing.

This time, I hung on the railings since I knew the train would move

before I sat down.

A good time was had by all-we all enjoyed the show, Cindy was

surprised, and the kids got lots of autographs!

Top Ten List

After last week’s “Karma” post, one of the comments (thanks Bryant!) said that I have great karma because I have persevered and that I am living my life, teaching, and raising kids. Everyone goes through tough times in life, and maybe it’s better not to think of “karma” as something that comes back to you, but as something you give out instead. In that spirit, this week’s blog is meant to make you laugh.

If you don’t think it’s funny, well, at least I made myself laugh!

10 best things about having a brain tumor

10. I can tell small children that I was attacked by a shark. They believe me and they think I’m cool!

9. People don’t complain to me as much about trivial problems.

8. People think I’m drunk anyway, so, why not drink?

7. I have no need to go to an amusement park–riding on an elevator gives me the same rush as a roller-coaster!

6. Rock star parking.

5. I get to say, “It’s not like it’s brain surgery,” and mean it!

4. I can write a new book called “the Brain Tumor Diet” and make a fortune!

3. I can fall into things and watch people around me looking at me like I’m crazy because I’m usually laughing! We went to lunch at a restaurant in Monterey, and I tripped and fell as I walked in the door. I tripped over the step and fell-right into a high chair! Rented surrey: $40; lunch: $25; the look of surprise on the parents of the baby whose high chair I destroyed: priceless!

2. I can use my cane as a weapon-and even bring it on an airplane!

1. If I say or do something stupid, I have an excuse!

Karma?

I don’t believe on karma, but I do believe in ghosts. If I believed in karma, I would wonder what the hell I did to deserve this.

It is said that as long as you’ve got your health, you have got everything. Well, what if I don’t have my health, then what have I got?

When I get really depressed, I don’t email or call people. I always come out of my super-sad stupors, so I think it may be valuable to share my experience.

First of all, I can almost always identify the immediate cause of my sadness-it is usually tied to a comment that someone made.

When someone says something that is annoying, demanding or hurtful. I try to imagine these people as mice. I pick up each mouse (in my imagination) and place them in a jar. I place all of the annoying mice in a jar. I listen to them for a minute or two, and then put their voices on “mute.”

Comments like “people who have had strokes shouldn’t drive,” or “does your mom have a drinking problem?” are examples of comments I attach to virtual mice and place in a virtual jar. I’ve worked incredibly hard to be able to drive again, so when this strange woman said to a police officer that I shouldn’t drive, that was very hurtful and annoying.

The last few weeks have been especially hard–between my birthday and the DMV troubles–it sometimes seems as if I’m fighting the same battles over and over again. I know that many of you feel the same way. How many times has gay marriage been voted on? I participated in a “Save the Whales” rally last week. Commercial whaling may be legalized AGAIN!

So, I realize that some battles do need to be fought over and over again. But having battles that have been previously fought-and won-come back to haunt you is NOT karma. Could it be ghosts? Thinking about fighting ghosts again makes it more fun than thinking you just have bad karma. Bad things DO happen to good people. Everyone knows that. That can’t be explained by karma. But ghosts? Hello Casper!

DMV%^&*!!!

I went to the DMV today to try to get my driver’s license renewed. Simple, right? For me, it’s more complicated than brain surgery! My adventure with the DMV began last October (2009) when I misplaced my license and had to get a duplicate. The form asked if I had had any medical conditions occur in the past five years. Since my abnormalities are not hidden, I knew I couldn’t get away with lying, so I told the whole truth. They made me jump through more hoops than Flipper! After taking two behind-the-wheel tests and enduring their condescending attitude, my license was reinstated at the end of January. I thought I was safe.

I went for my renewal today and I learned that the DMV apparently has a rare condition that provides them with no short-term memory. I had to fill out the same paperwork about my medical condition, they gave me the same vision test (which I can pass in my right eye, but not my left), and they want to schedule me for another drive test!

They had no record of everything I had just gone through to get my license back. The difference this time is that they also made me take a written test. If you’re not 16, you probably haven’t taken a written test in a while, and you may not realize how stupid some of the questions are. About half are genuine safety questions, and half are designed to test your ability to memorize the handbook. The questions are just…wrong. Here are a couple of examples:

Which statement is true about motorcyclists and motorists?
A. Motorcyclists are not allowed to drive faster than other traffic
during congested road conditions.
B. Motorcycles have the same rights/responsibilities as other motorists.
C. Motorcycles are heavier than other vehicles and are less affected
by wind/rain.

I chose the correct answer, B, but my question is, “If motorcycles are allowed to drive faster than other traffic during congested road conditions, how does that not conflict with them having the same rights/responsibilities as other motorists?

Did you know that if you’re in an accident, you must exchange insurance, vehicle registration and your address, not just insurance and registration? Doesn’t your vehicle registration have your address on it? It’s like requiring someone to tell you their date of birth and their age!

I’ve been sitting in my car writing this for the past hour and it just dawned on me why this experience has been so upsetting. Most DMV workers are like the Dementors from Harry Potter. Their mission is to suck all joy and happiness from your soul. Next time you go to the DMV, look around. Noone is happy.

I’ve got to go find some cranberries!

PS: After writing this blog, I went to the gym and felt better!

How old AM I?

“It’s not the years, honey, it’s the mileage.”

This classic line by Indiana Jones is going through my mind a lot this week, as I have a birthday looming. I’m going to be, I dunno, forty-something. On paper, it’s really not that old, but, seriously, there isn’t a part of my body that doesn’t feel old. I’ve been feeling low lately, partly because of this “age versus mileage” disparity. If you’ve read my book, When Life Throws You Lemons…Make Cranberry Juice!, you’d know that I try to look for, and accept, life’s cranberries in spite of life’s lemons. Getting old: physically, mentally or chronologically is a lemon. I needed to look for a cranberry to balance this lemon. I remembered a story I wrote about in my book:

I went to a Monday Night Football game, hosted by the Houston Texans, with my family just after Thanksgiving, 2008. As Matt’s guests, we parked and entered the stadium through areas designated for players’ families. Once inside, we had a long walk to our seats, so an employee brought me a wheelchair. When I finally got to my seat, I stayed put the entire game.

After the game, the wheelchair guy came back and took me to the player’s post-game reception. We met up with Matt at the reception, but before he got comfortable, Abby asked him if we could go on the field. Abby and Andy had never been on a football field, and they had wanted to go on one for years. We walked out onto the field and it was awesome. We looked at the spot where Matt had tried to throw a touchdown pass, and the spot where the ball was kicked for field goals.

Then, my sister Stephanie asked me if Steve Young was an announcer for Monday night games.

I said, “He might be. Why?”

She said, “I think he’s right over there.”

He was. Steve Young was on the other side of the field, conducting
post-game interviews.

I hobbled across the field, towards the bright television lights, moving faster than I had moved in two and a half years. He was busy working, so I was not able to say hello to him again, but feeling that rush of adrenaline that made me nearly run across the football field worked more magic than a week’s worth of prozac! Part of me was still a woman. Part of me could still get goose bumps over a man. Part of me was still ambitious enough to chase down Steve Young. Part of me was still alive.

Yes, reliving any of my “Steve Young” stories can lift my spirits.

What lifts yours?

Mother’s Day!!

In honor of Mother’s Day, I am posting the dedication that appears in my book, When Life Throws You Lemons…Make Cranberry Juice!

Dedication

One evening, I had my son call a friend of mine to come over because I needed some TLC. He obliged, after asking me what TLC was.  Throughout my life, my mother, Annie Bookstaff, not only provided me with tender, loving, care, but also always encouraged me to be strong and independent. She, and my father, Edward Bookstaff, took me to the Aquarium, paid for SCUBA diving lessons, and said, “Have fun” when I went to Florida for a month to study dolphins. My mom supported my efforts to become a marine biologist, and she was by my side during my triumphs and tragedies.  She died on November 26, 2003. Friends have given me a lot of TLC in the past few years, but it’s just not the same. Let’s face it; sometimes I just want my mommy.

Which brings me to my next dedication, where I am the mommy.  When my daughter, Abby, was born, I had six weeks until the beginning of the following semester, when I returned to work. When Andy was born, I had 10 weeks. Throughout this book, I have written about all the wonderful ways that they support me. My life, and this book, are dedicated to them.

Car Dealer

I went to the Mazda Dealer today to get my car fixed. Before you say, “WHY WOULD YOU GO TO THE DEALER TO GET YOUR CAR FIXED?”, the work in question was still covered under warranty. I went there because the mechanics at my local gas station (whom I trust) told me that my exhaust manifold was leaking. I called the Dealer to see if this repair would be covered under the warranty. It is covered, so I brought the car in to the Dealer. The very nice young attendant at the Service Counter drove my car around and told me that he couldn’t hear anything indicating a problem with the exhaust manifold. They could take the car apart and look, but if the exhaust manifold was found to be fine, I would be charged for the labor.

Now, here’s what I know about cars-they have four wheels and they go, “Vroom, Vroom.” Why would I trust the nice guy at the Dealer steering me away from having expensive warranty work done? While he was “helping” me decide what to do, a pretty woman with a cute little dog walked in. My issues quickly faded into the background as the attendant began a flirtatious round of pleasantries concerning her dog. After a few minutes of listening to a comparison between her little dog and his little dog, I asked him if I was almost done. I told him that it is hard for me to stand for long periods of time. Even though I don’t know much about cars, I do know when I’m getting good service (and when I’m NOT). The teacher in me wanted to instruct him in methods of decent customer service. The bitch in me wanted to write him a nasty email and cc his supervisor. The car owner in me just wants my car to be fixed before the warranty expires!

In addition to knowing when I’m getting decent service, I also know that information resources available to me are enormous. It doesn’t really matter that I don’t know much about my car. I have immediate access to people who do. I never have to make an important decision alone–as long as I have my cell phone!

I called my dad (who lives across the country), and we decided that I would hold off on the expensive gamble until I had another friend take a look at my car.

If you’re wondering which side of me won–the teacher, the bitch, or the car owner–a little bit of each came out. I emailed the attendant and gave him some constructive criticism. I wasn’t too bitchy, but I made sure he knew how painful it was for me to stand there that long while he was busy flirting. The car owner side of me is still collecting advice. An informed decision will soon be made.

Glossophobia?

“Most moms say they would die for their kids; my mom loves me enough to live.” I included this heart-wrenching quote from my daughter in two presentations I gave recently. I knew that some members of my audience were potential future health professionals, and I wanted them to get a glimpse of the emotional side of me as a patient. I couldn’t read this out loud to my audience. It was the first time I ever got choked up in the middle of a lecture. Thankfully the next slide was technical, so I was able to regain my composure. Lecturing to a group of people had always consumed my whole mind in such a way that I was able to escape my life for a short time. In this case, a bit of brain anatomy helped push the lump out of my throat. I put my mind in science mode and made it through the rest of my presentation (without lumps!).

Throughout my career, I had always been able to create my own opportunities and merge my personal life with my professional life. Before my surgery, my passion for marine life had guided my career. After my surgery, my passion expanded to include a study of brain disorders, and I was still able to merge my interests with my teaching career. Whales to Brains? That’s a pretty big leap, but my commitment to education remained strong and I was able to incorporate my own medical dramas into my teaching. This modification of my professional duties was a good compromise. I wasn’t completely abandoning my teaching career, just reformatting it. I had always loved teaching. Giving a good lecture could lift my spirits even on my most dreary days.

The presentations I gave have whet my appetite for giving presentations. Although public speaking is certainly more difficult for me now, this seems to be the direction my life is meant to take. Yes, I feel awkward presenting this version of myself publicly. My appearance is not as polished or professional as it used to be. At times, my speech is slurred or difficult to hear. It is a little bit embarrassing to present myself in my “less than stellar” state, but the alternative of hiding under my bed doesn’t work for me. Thankfully, I don’t have glossophobia, a fear of public speaking, which, incidentally, ranks higher than a fear of death! I am also comfortable in the knowledge that sharing my story can inspire people to work hard for their goals without letting life’s lemons stop them. I am seeking additional venues at which to present my story. If you know of an appropriate club or group within the San Francisco Bay Area, please let me know.

Whales, Dolphins and Porpoises, Oh My!

The area known as the cove was filled with blood. It looked like a scene from The Ten Commandments! I just finished watching The Cove, the Academy-Award-winning documentary about a dolphin slaughter in a small fishing village in Japan. As a life-long dolphin lover, I was, of course, horrified by the images before me.

One issue brought up in the film (by the dolphin-killers) was why the secret-agent film-makers were so concerned about the slaughter of dolphins, but not other animals, such as cows. They said that they value cows, and are horrified that cows are slaughtered for food. So, why dolphins? Why whales? I’ve been drawn to these awesome creatures since I was a kid, and I fell so in love with them that I made a career out of this passion. Perhaps the reason these animals provoke such passion and protectiveness is because when you look into their eyes, they look back! Being in the presence of wild dolphins or whales makes you believe that there is a living entity inside.

As a biologist, I have learned to look at living animals on a textbook level–as a combination of cells, tissues, and organs. As a biologist, I have been trained not to anthropomorphize (not to give human characteristics to animals). I consider myself to be more practical than spiritual. I am, however, deeply moved in the presence of marine mammals. I am not, necessarily, deeply moved in the presence of cows.

One day, while I was in rehab, some friends took me to visit a marine mammal hospital to visit the rehabilitating seals and sea lions. I had been to The Marine Mammal Center many times, taking my students on field trips, taking visiting family, and just to visit. On this day, everything looked different. These animals were in rehab. I was in rehab. I watched the seals and sea lions working hard towards their goal of going home. I was also working hard to go home. I had never had this strong of a connection to a wild marine mammal. Their antics inspired me to continue along my path of working hard towards my own homecoming.

While it is difficult to put into words, we do tend to feel a connection to these grand mammals that are so similar to us, yet survive in an utterly different world. I am delighted to announce that the local, San Francisco Bay Chapter of the American Cetacean Society will be starting up again very soon. The purpose of this organization is to protect whales, dolphins and porpoises. I founded this chapter in 1999 and served as the chapter’s president until my surgery in 2006. Please see the chapter’s website (http://acs-sfbay.org/index.html). I am looking forward to watching the passion for these magnificent creatures turn into actions.

Here are links to some organizations mentioned here.

The Cove

The Marine Mammal Center

American Cetacean Society

What’s Up, Doc?

I went for one of my regular visits to my optometrist. I see special ophthalmologists too, due to the damage to my cornea that occurred in the hospital, but I wanted my long-time optometrist to be in charge of my overall eye care. During the examination another doctor sat in to observe. I asked if he was training. Dr. Monetta said, “No, but this is an interesting case so I wanted him to observe.” I said, “Yeah, I get that a lot!”

An interesting case? I think we can all agree that the last thing any of us want to be at a doctor’s office is an interesting case! Navigating through a world where negative is good, positive is bad, and to be remarkable can have dire consequences is challenging. My recent MRI scans showed no recurrence of my tumor. They were negative and unremarkable. I think I’d rather be interesting than negative and unremarkable!

My neurosurgeon called me himself to tell me how happy he was with the results.  From his point of view, a review of my case looks great: I’m living independently, working, driving, eating, and walking. Doctors have told me that I’m doing really well with my limited abilities. I’ve learned to compensate and “make do.” When they start talking like that, I know they’ve given up the search for new treatments to improve my condition. Yes, I’m functioning, but deep in my heart I know that I can’t function like this long-term. I will continue to live my life whole-heartedly (I’m too stubborn to do otherwise) but I will also push my doctors into exploring new treatments to enhance my recovery.