reason #456 I love Chapel Hill

Tonight I witnessed something so small but so heartening. It was like "paying it forward", in person. Walking up to the store, a woman held the door for me, even though I was far away when she looked back. Then I held the door for another woman, who was far away, and she held the door for a man who was far away. It was something so so so small, but it was nice to see. That's what I love about Chapel Hill.

Reading: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell

Listening: "Smooth Criminal" by Michael Jackson, "On Nature" by Matisyahu

november!

wow, I haven't written in a while. Things have been busy with babysitting, writing, trying to find a job....and I went up north to NJ last week, and just got back to Carolina today. It was a good visit, and my time with my nephew was great. He has such unbridled joy with life, and when he's not being cranky or mischievious, he's actually very fun. He says the funniest things - I needed to put him to bed, and he kept saying "stay up, stay up"....where he learned that, I don't know. He cracks me up.

I don't have much to write, unfortunately, because there are so many things in my head with what I want to do, jobs I am applying for, decisions to make about future plans.....and no one wants to read all that stuff. So I overanalyze and obsess and talk myself in and out of various options again and again and again.

I did see the Michael Jackson movie "This Is It" last night (wow, it seems so much longer ago), and it was really really good - I don't know what I was expecting, but it was better than anything I was thinking of. I don't think I stopped bouncing along to the music the entire time. And knowing the outcome makes it slightly odd to watch, but ultimately...it's a good movie.

onco-semitism?

I don't know how many of you have heard the latest thing buzzing about Komen? You can read about it here. They are helping to sponsor a bunch of breast cancer conferences/events in Egypt, for scientists in the Middle East, and the Egyptian Minister of Health has rescinded all the invites issued to Israeli doctors. The ADL put out a press release urging Komen to condemn the action, and so far, Komen has been silent. This is disgraceful. Where are all the Jewish groups speaking up? Where are all the feminist groups speaking up?

Komen, I am disappointed in you, more than I have been in the past...this is a new low.

not so rare.

I got an email from my supervisor, Jennifer, at MSKCC today. She is riding in MSKCC's Cycle for Survival, which is an indoor cycling event to raise money for rare cancers. More than half of all cancers are "rare", and it includes childhood cancers, uterine cancer, cervical cancer, sarcoma, appendix cancer, brain cancer, and others. These rare cancers do not get as much research money as the "common" cancers, and as such, there are generally fewer options for treatment. My supervisor is riding in memory of her mother, and I'd really like to see her surpass her fundraising goal. Click here to go to her fundraising page.

I had an amazing summer in 2008, and really felt like I was learning a ton and had a purpose in life. Every day, I would tell my parents, "Today was the best day ever..." Jennifer helped make my experience at Memorial one of the best experiences of my life, and I'd like to help her with this.

Go to the website, read more about rare cancers, and learn what you can do to help raise money for research and treatment.

We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love. - Mother Teresa

hope.

Hope. What is hope? Is it the "thing with feathers/That perches in the soul", as Emily Dickinson wrote? Is it an empty campaign slogan used by a Presidential candidate? I like a quote from author Barbara Kingsolver, that goes "The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance, but live right in it, under its roof." But living inside that hope is very hard. I know the medical side of it. I know the clinical terms, am familiar with the statistics. And yes, we've all heard statistics are just numbers, blah blah blah....and to a certain extent, that's true. But there's also that cold hard truth of the matter. The black and white words written in the medical chart that detail the cancer. The doctor's sobering prognosis. Hope takes on a different meaning, you apply it to different things. I've blogged about this before; I struggle with hope. But sometimes, that's all you have.

what the heart sees.

I am reading a book, The Best American Medical Writing 2009. It's a collection of essays about, duh, medicine. All the essays are really great, but one in particular struck me today. It was a story about how this woman's 2 year old niece had retinoblastoma, a cancer of the eye -- and the grandfather was a well-respected opthamologist who suspected something months before, and blamed himself for not insisting she be seen earlier. It made me think of my nephew, and I swear to G-d, it physically hurt me to think of anything like that happening to him. I could not imagine life without him. G-d forbid. He is filled with such joy and love, and has brought happiness to everyone in our family, and I would not want to see him hurt for a second. I would rather hurt for years than have him hurt for a minute. But it made me think. And it made me look at pictures of him to make sure there was no white spot in his eyes. (A common sign of retinoblastoma). And I know I love my nephew - and at this point, I'm sure everyone else knows, too....but reading this essay truly brought it to my heart's attention. I would move mountains if Trey needed medical attention. But I hope I never have to.

because I have the cutest kids in my family. seriously.

My super-duper favorite nephew, obviously.

Look at that face. How could you not fall in love?

Bathtime!

My new baby cousin Cole!!!

And this is Cole sleeping!

I feel so incredibly blessed to have these wonderful children in my life. I have not met baby Cole yet, but I love him already. I can't wait!

family, chosen and otherwise.

I LOVE this picture of my nephew and I. There's so much emotion behind it that it's beautiful, to me.

Here we are, at Barnes & Noble. I love his smile.

Though I love living in Chapel Hill, sometimes I do miss living closer to my family. Usually it's hardest after coming back to NC after being up there for a bit. When I came back last Sunday, it was hard. I wished I could stay up North to be near my grandparents and my aunt, and I wished I could have spent more time with each of my parents. But when I went to babysit on tuesday morning, I walked into the house to get the carseats, and saw a note that began with, "Welcome home, Jaime! Hope you had a good time up North!" I teared up, I kid you not. I thought that was so sweet. And today, when I went to lunch with two other kids I babysit for and their mom, I was struck by the wonderful people I've met here, who have invited me into their lives. K, the little girl (well, she's 11, so she's not "little"), ran up to me after lunch and gave me a big hug goodbye....she is so sweet, and I felt so thankful that I have stumbled upon great people here. They may not be my family of origin, but I am slowly building a chosen family here in Chapel Hill, made up of lots of people, some of whom are unexpected. I did miss my family today, though. I was thinking, this time last week I was at lunch with my nephew and grandparents, and Trey sat next to me and would rest his head on my shoulder. And this time last week my family and I were having Rosh Hashanah dinner. But, time goes on....and I will be up North again before I know it.

a colorful life.

You know, I often find myself marveling at the things kids say. Being a nanny, this is a privilege I am lucky to have, seeing the world through childrens' eyes. Today, I was helping E paint. He is four and a half, and often rambunctious. He wanted to paint, and had me put blobs of different color paint on a plate, for his "palette". He made a drawing, and then proceeded to mix all the colors together, in what, to me, looked like a big muddy mix. He then painted a long stripe on the paper with the mixture, and said, "Isn't this very beautiful? There's pink and red and blue and yellow." And sure enough, if you looked closely, each individual color was there. He kept saying, "This is so beautiful, isn't it?" And I thought to myself, you know, I wouldn't have thought so at first, but now that I really look, yes, it's very, very beautiful.

a sweet and sour way to begin the Jewish new year.

Happy Rosh Hashanah! It is the Jewish New Year and I am very thankful for the people in my life. Though my life right now is not exactly as I imagined it would be, I am hoping that this year will bring me a purpose, and help me find my way. I hope that I am able to build upon my faith this year. Right now, I'm not so sure. I am a person of science, which makes it a little difficult to fully be a person of faith (for me, anyway), yet I cannot shake the belief that there is something more, like a Higher Power, or G-d. Honestly, though, sometimes I feel like he's got a whole hell of a lot of explaining to do.

It is hard for me to watch someone who is very ill, and believe that G-d will heal her. Last time I checked, he wasn't in the chemotherapy suite. It is hard for me to share that faith and fully understand it. My instinct is to find the best damn doctor there is, in the best facility, and fight like hell through surgery and chemo and whatever needs to be done. I don't count on miracles. I can't. Do I pray? Yes, I do. But do I believe that that is enough? Not a chance. To me, it's like that story where the guys are stranded in a flood or something, and the one guy keeps saying, "G-d will save me, G-d will save me", and he dies -- and when he meets G-d, he says, "Why didn't you save me?" And G-d replies, "I sent you a plane, a raft, etc etc". Sure, believe in whoever you want to believe in, whatever religion works for you -- but don't use that as an excuse to be passive. Especially when you're in the fight of your life, literally.

And you know what? Maybe that belief system works for me. It makes it easier to deal with cancer. Just focus on the rogue cells that are multiplying out of control, and focus on what needs to be done and what can be done. I can't focus on the "why her" thoughts, or be angry at G-d, because in my mind, it has nothing to do with him - it's pure science. I struggle with issues of faith constantly; maybe that is an occupational hazard of being in the healthcare field. I don't know. Maybe it's the result of 9 years of religious private school. Maybe it's just the result of being overanalytical and obsessive. There are no right or wrong answers to this, and Lord knows, we could talk about this forever and still have a billion different opinons and answers and options. This one's mine, for now.

There are times - and this is one of them - when I wonder about my ability to work in oncology. I love the field, don't get me wrong. But I also take it very hard when I can't "save", or even help people. I take it hard when I watch people ignore factual advice and receive sub-par care that will hasten their demise. It is hard for me to look sickness in the face sometimes. It is hard when I have done all I can do and have to sit back and do nothing. It is hard to face the limits of medicine, in a nutshell. Does everyone in oncology go through this?