A Conversation for Robin
When I came across a post from NBC News announcing Robin William’s death, I gasped. “No!” I said, and immediately went to check to see if it was a hoax. I found similar articles from the LA Times, CNN, New York Times. It wasn’t. Robin Williams was gone, and had apparently taken his own life. Facebook and Twitter lit up with posts expressing shock, sadness, and sympathy for his family. I knew it was only a matter of time though and braced myself for the inevitable-and wasn’t disappointed.
this guy was a drug addict and now his pain is over but now his friends and family have 2 deal with the pain, he made a very selfish choice 2 take his own life, nice role model!
I’m not here to judge a man that I only met a few x in San Francisco; however, using suicide as the last arrogant and self-centered act is profoundly SELFISH! He had ZERO regard for his children, family, friends, and the ‘so-call’ charities he professed to love; clearly he didn’t love anyone; not even himself! COWARDICE in the extreme.
And on it went…whenever news of a suicide breaks, the scorn, the judgment, the hate starts flying. It’s the recipe for STIGMA, especially the incredibly destructive stigma surrounding mental illness.
Robin Williams struggled with deep depression for years. Why you might ask. Why would a man who had gained acclaim, adoration and wealth have any reason to be depressed? There is no simple answer. Depression can be genetic. I know, I come from a family where there is both a history of depression and substance abuse. It can also be due to chemical imbalances in the brain. Depression is as much a disease as diabetes or asthma, and like those other diseases, sometimes they can be controlled with proper treatment-and sometimes not. For Robin Williams, the disease won. He was not selfish. He was not a coward. He was a man. A husband, a father, a flawed and simple human like the rest of us-and one in agonizing emotional pain.
Ringing In Spring!
There was a an orchid show at the park last weekend. What a perfect way to welcome spring, don’t you think?
Think About Your HAVES Not Your HAVE-NOTs!
Life is not perfect, but if it was, how boring would that be? There would be no lessons learned and no need for blessings to be counted…what a loss that would be! This economy is hitting most of us hard and it’s difficult not to worry and be angry-my husband and I are good, hard working people. We pay our bills on time and live within our means. Yet like many, we sometimes struggle to make ends meet. However I’ve found a sliver of a silver lining. It makes you appreciate the HAVES in your life a whole lot more. Here are mine:
I have a wonderful husband who loves me and a strong and happy marriage.
I have a group of friends who are just the most terrific and extraordinary people I’ve ever met.
I have a clean, warm apartment and a kitchen full of food.
I have a cat who gives me joy and unconditional love.
I have the luck and good fortune to be making a living doing something I absolutely love.
I have good health.
I have a clear conscience and an open mind.
What are your haves?
I leave you with this:
“I complained I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet.”
Count your blessings, look for that silver lining and give thanks for your HAVES! 🙂
On Faith
Heard on the news this morning that the #1 survival weapon (whether you’re trying to survive a life threatening event or just the lousy economy), is faith. Reminded me of this quote:
“When you have come to the edge of all light that you know, and are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown, Faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly.”
~ Patrick Overton
He Wasn’t Just a Cat………
He was my buddy. Yesterday started out normally. My cat Roddy woke me up, and we snuggled and played for a bit. About an hour or two later, my husband came home from a job interview and joked that Roddy was doing a good job blocking passes. He was lying on the floor by the bedroom door as he often did, and as I walked by to go to the bathroom, I commented that he was having a good snooze. Little did I know..
A minute later my husband started screaming.
“Something’s wrong with Roddy!”
“What?” I replied.
“Something’s wrong with Roddy!”
“What do you mean? I am using the bathroom, you have to tell me what you mean!” I called back.
He was freaking out. “He’s unconscious!”
I ran out to the living room where he’d carried him and took him in my arms. He was warm, but completely limp. His eyes were open but there was no life in them. I checked for a heartbeat, a breath….
“Oh baby no! Honey, I don’t think he’s breathing! Get the carrier, QUICK!”
I was shaking, pleading with him and God to be okay. Sobbing and pleading…
We rushed him to the vet, only a few minutes away, but it was too late. Roddy was gone. They worked on him feverishly in the emergency room but couldn’t get his heart going again. The vet said words like cardiomyopathy and rupture of the fibers surrounding the chordae tendineae, but it meant nothing. All that mattered was Roddy was gone. He was only 8 years old…far too soon.
We adopted Roddy when he was just 5 weeks old. Some monster had put him in a plastic bag and tossed him in a trash can. That experience left him absolutely terrified of bags for the rest of his life. He was so tiny we carried him around in our pockets. He was very sick with a URI and conjunctivitis, but we nursed him back to health. He grew into a curious, playful cat who loved to chatter with the birds outside the kitchen window, “talked to us” all the time, and would do anything for a goldfish cracker. He was our buddy, our baby. We aren’t able to have children, so Roddy and our older cat, Minky, were our family. Some people don’t understand how pets can become family, but for us they do.
Unlike Minky, Roddy was not a solitary fellow. He wanted and needed to be near his people all the time. He slept with us every night, waking us up with a chirrp in the morning to announce it was time for his breakfast. When I was working at my desk he laid across my feet. He was not a solitary cat; he needed and wanted to be near his people. I work at home so he and I were together all the time. When he wanted attention he would get up on his hind legs, lean against my chair and pat me repeatedly with his front paw. If that didn’t work he jumped on my desk and walked between me and my laptop.
He loved boxes-not a single box came into this house that wasn’t taken over by him. He loved naps in the sun, the fuzzy pink ball he’d has since he was a kitten and bug hunting. He ran races up and down the stars and around the house, always full of energy.
I have an anxiety disorder and Roddy always seemed to know when I was having a bad day. He’d stay close and occasional reach out and pat me with a paw. When I was sick, he was an excellent nurse.
Roddy wasn’t just a cat, he was my friend. I don’t understand why he was fine one minute and gone the next, and I don’t think I ever will. I will always remember the night before he died. He was snuggled in bed with my husband and I purring away and all was right with the world. I dreamt about him last night. He was in a field of green grass and it was a sunny day. He was running and playing. I hope that means he’s okay.
We spent awhile with him at the vet’s. We kissed him and stroked him and told him we loved him, then we said goodbye. We had him cremated and will bring him home soon.
It will never really be goodbye though. He’ll be in our now broken hearts and in our memories forever. Someday our hearts will heal and welcome a new cat, but not now.
Gentle journey baby, until we see each other again.
What Would You Do?
If you woke up this morning with a sore throat, earache, or swollen glands, what would you do? What if you found a lump in your breast, noticed a mole that didn’t look right, or numbness in your legs? What would you do? If your answer is you’d call your doctor and get an appointment, do you realize how lucky you are?
For many people, a sudden illness or concern would mean panic and fear. Too many live with the fear of getting sick. Too many go without necessary meds. Too many go without the preventive care that might keep them from getting sick. I am one of them, as are many I know. My husband and I have been uninsured for nearly 5 years now. I had to forgo my asthma meds. I can’t get things like Pap Smears and regular physicals. Two years ago I hurt my back and suffered with severe pain and numbness for 6 long months because no doctor would see me without insurance and the ER treated me like a junkie looking for a fix. One doctor sent me for an MRI. We’d gotten a very generous tax refund that would have covered it, but they refused to see me, saying “No insurance, no service”. I could barely walk, and was absolutely terrified I’d never get better. I felt hopeless and alone.
No one should EVER have to suffer or live in fear because they can’t afford medical care. NO ONE. My husband and I, and millions like us, are not uninsured because we are lazy or want the government to take care of us. My husband was lost his job through no fault of his own, and has been unable to find one that provides health insurance. It’s the greed of corporations that is to blame for the healthcare crisis in this country. While CEOs collect fat paychecks and fatter bonuses, the workers at the other end of the ladder, the ones that made them all their money, are treated like disposable goods. They don’t think they have any responsibility to their workers. They aren’t people to a CEO, just easily replaceable parts in a big money machine.
I know some people think the uninsured can get free care at the ER. Yes and no. They’ll help you to a degree-if you have an ear infection you’ll get antibiotics (hopefully you can afford them-there’s no free care at the pharmacy!) Break a bone, they’ll set it. But there is a stigma attached to being uninsured in the ER, trust me. I’ve been there many times. I got wonderful care when I had kidney stones, but when I hurt my back I was treated like a nuisance. When I went there 8 weeks pregnant and bleeding, it was even worse. I saw the OB/GYN on duty for all of 10 minutes. He didn’t examine me, just told me it was too soon to know if my baby was okay and to go home. Then he handed me a paper saying I had been diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy. As almost all women know, that is a life-threatening emergency. When I questioned it, he bit my head off and yelled, “Didn’t you hear what I said? Go home!!” and walked out (I didn’t have an ectopic pregnancy thankfully, but sadly, I did lose my baby).
And then there are things like cancer, diabetes, thyroid disease, and more. These things need regular treatment and meds, things an ER can’t give. So what do you do if you have no insurance and get sick with something like that? Some states have special programs that take care of uninsured cancer patients. Otherwise, you’re on your own. And that’s where the fear comes in. Every time you don’t feel quite right, every time you get an ache or pain, you worry. Every cough, every headache, every twinge brings fear. I live with that fear every day as do millions like me.
The systems in Canada and the UK are far from perfect. There are long waits and other problems, but those citizens live free of fear. They know if they get sick they will be cared for. They won’t go bankrupt or have to suffer. That’s how it should be. No one wants to live off the government. They just want to live without fear. They want to be cared for when they are sick and be able to get help when they are hurt. Health care should be a basic human right, not something you’re only entitled to if your bank account is large enough. Jesus tells us to love thy neighbor and care for one another. When He helped the lepers, gave sight back to the blind man and helped the crippled man walk again, He didn’t ask if they had insurance. He didn’t refuse them because they were poor. He saw their need and helped them. That’s what “Obamacare” is. It’s not a hand out, it’s a hand up many people desperately need. It will save lives.
Health care is a luxury in this country, and that should be a national disgrace. We must stop catering to the rich and start caring for each other. Benevolence before bank accounts. Philanthropy before profits. I am tired of being scared, tired of worrying. I know I am not alone in that. Don’t look down on us. One day you could be called into see your boss, as my husband was in 2009, and told your job of 15 years is gone. It could easily happen to you, and if it does I pray you don’t wake up sick one morning with no doctor to call, and no way to get help. It could happen to anyone. It happens every day.
Where is the Outrage?
Enough with all the grandstanding and finger-pointing. Everyone is looking for something or someone to blame for the latest school shooting.
What happened in CT will NOT be prevented in other places by gun control or allowing God in schools, because it wasn’t about guns or religion. It was about the fact that the mentally ill are largely ignored in this country. The stigma is still there and the treatment options are not. A large portion of our homeless and prison populations are mentally ill. They need to be in psychiatric hospitals or treatment programs, but because in this country, mental health services, like healthcare, are a luxury item too few can afford, and many more are afraid to ask for. People with mental illnesses are often ridiculed and shunned thanks to the horrible stigma we’ve attached to mental illness. In this country if you don’t understand something, it’s acceptable to ridicule and attack it. Movies and TV shows help perpetuate this. Comedies use mental illness for laughs, horror films to frighten, and millions of dollars are raked in.
Guess what? You know someone with a mental illness. Since the age of 8, I’ve struggled with depression, anxiety disorder, and mild OCD. In my 20’s I developed PTSD as well after becoming the victim of a violent crime. I am lucky though. I got treatment and got better. I still have bad days but I am a happy, healthy, contributing member of society. I have friends who’ve had their own struggles with depression and anxiety, and a friend who struggles with a child’s mental illness. Most of us who have struggled with a mental illness have never been a danger to anyone but ourselves. Tragically though, there are exceptions.
28 people were murdered not because of a gun or because God wasn’t there-they were murdered because a severely mentally ill person did not get the help he needed. Granted, not all mental illnesses can be treated. Pedophiles will always be pedophiles, sociopaths will always be sociopaths. But there are many mental illnesses that CAN be treated-depression, OCD, schizophrenia, PTSD, anxiety disorders, etc. Yet many people with this illnesses suffer due to the stigma, or because they can’t afford the treatment they need to get well and insurance companies refuse to cover it. That is a national disgrace. If the outrage over that was as strong and vocal as the outrage over gun control is, there would be a lot less suffering and grief today. We should all be outraged, not at gun control or the lack thereof, and not at the lack of religion in schools. We should be outraged that the mentally ill are forgotten and ignored, left to suffer and in some tragic cases, become a ticking time bomb that eventually, horrifically explodes.
Where is the outrage? Where are the solutions? Where??