The Glimmer of Hope Continues

I took Dad to an eye doc appointment today. He was nervous, but I could sense a little less depressed. His eye didn’t look as sore and swollen.

First, a nurse examined his eye and put some drops in to dilate the pupil. He asked the same question he asks every nurse, “Will it get better?” The nurse was patient and positive, saying she’s seen cases like this, and they have resulted in the patient being able to see. They don’t have all of the results back from the lab test, so they still aren’t 100% certain which type of bacteria it is. For now, he’s taking an antibiotic that will zap just about everything.

The doctor came in, and he too was very patient. My father had several questions ready, which the doctor answered as thoroughly as he could. One key element in all of this is that my father has diabetes. Although his blood flow is fine, the blood quality can have an impact on how the eye will heal. This is why he must be very careful to keep his blood sugar at the regulated level. Thanks to my Mom, my Dad has been religious about putting in all of his drops.

The doctor did an ultrasound on the eye. I said, “ooo, the heartbeat… oh, wrong ultrasound.” That got a little chuckle from my Dad anyway.

The infection is clearing and the eye looks better. My Dad still sees only light, but that’s a good sign. He doesn’t have to wear his patch during the day. But he needs to be careful when turning to the right. Still no tennis or driving, of course.

Right now, there is a chance that my Dad will regain the sight in his eye. It could take months, but there is a chance.

After we made the follow-up appointment and were walking to the car, I said, “Dad, if this were me, what would you say?” He said, “I would tell you that the eye is healing and that you should be patient. You should keep a positive attitude.” I said, “Back at you.” He smiled.

He didn’t sigh as much during the ride home. I could sense a glimmer of hope in his being. I am going to do all I can to keep that glimmer of hope alive.

Forgiveness

I have to give my daughter credit. She “shakes it off,” as they say. She is forgiving and a great friend. One of her friends was mean to her. Abby was hurt and angry. We talked about it, and Abby was cautious, but I could tell she wasn’t prepared to write her off entirely. Apparently, the friend then said she was sorry “a million more times,” as Abby put it. They are now friends again. This whole scenario lasted for about five days.

Although I am a little skeptical that this will happen again, and I hate to see my little girl get hurt, I applaud Abby for her ability to forgive.

When was the last time you forgave someone? It’s not easy when you get disappointed or hurt. The first thing you want to do it give the other person a taste of her own medicine. “I’m going to be mad at you, see how you like it.” Or “Who needs a friend like you?” Who loses? Both of you. It takes energy to be mad. And it’s negative energy.

If the person sincerely apologizes, then it’s worth giving her another shot, particularly if the poor behavior isn’t typical. The person learned a lesson, knew she went too far and was big enough to apologize.

It’s not easy to forgive, but it’s a healthy way to approach life. Abby is ahead of her years in this department as evidenced by these inspirational pearls of wisdom from some wordly folks:

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”
- Mahatma Ghandi

"To forgive is the highest, most beautiful form of love. In return, you will receive untold peace and happiness.”
- Robert Muller

"Always forgive your enemies – nothing annoys them so much."
- Oscar Wilde

Seeing Fear, Part II - A Ray of Hope

I took my parents to my dad’s follow up appointment today. The place felt like a factory. First, we sat in the waiting room for what seemed like an eternity. Then, they called him in. I waited while my mother went in with him. The nurse removed the bandage. He can see light but he still cannot see shapes. My mother called me to sit with them in the hallway while they waited to speak with the doctor. We waited for what seemed like another eternity (although I did thumb through a good article in this month’s New Yorker about the similarities between the government’s role in helping the farming industry and what it might be able to do for healthcare.. but I digress).

All we saw were doctors and nurses walking up and down and hallway, not making eye contact, which made even my father chuckle. My father was nervous. My mother was driving him crazy with a ton of questions. I just kept flipping through the magazine trying to focus on one article at a time. At last, we heard, “Leon Sherman.”

We all piled into the very small examination room where the doctor looked into his eye again and then made his next assessment. He used a model, which was helpful. He said that my father’s eye was filled with pus. The doctor was able to remove about 95% of it. The other 5% is sitting too close to the retina, and there was too much of a risk to try to go there. It’s a matter of blasting it out with antibiotics and letting the retina heal. This happens one in every 1,000 cases (sorry, I said 10,000 in my prior post).

The bad news is that he cannot see out of that eye now. The good news is that there is a chance he will be able to see should the infection clear and the retina heal. That might take another two weeks. In the meantime, my father must take three different kinds of drops several times per day to help fight this. He must also wear an eye shield at night and sun glasses that practically wrap around his head when he goes out during the day. He hates these glasses. He says they make him look old.
To answer the question of whether or not he will play tennis again? I am betting on yes. Should he lose sight in that eye, he will also be able to drive. But let’s take it one step at a time.

He has another appointment next Tuesday. As long as the eye doesn’t get worse or hurt, he very well might be on the road to recovery.

Stay tuned… and thank you for your well wishes. They mean a lot.

Seeing Fear - Part I

I drove my parents to an appointment in Boston today. My father was going in for eye surgery. It was surreal. It was one trip that never should have happened. This eye surgery was meant to remove an infection he contracted as a result of a supposedly quick and simple cataract procedure.

Last Monday, he walked out of the cataract procedure feeling great. A few days later, he was driving. The following Saturday he was back on the tennis court. Life was good. Saturday afternoon, his eye started to hurt and swell up. On Sunday, it worsened. Sunday afternoon, he called the doctor, who agreed to see him first thing the next morning. My mother asked me to drive him as it was too early for her to get out of the house. On Sunday night, the eye hurt so badly, he didn’t sleep.. at all… pulled an all-nighter, as they say in college. I picked him up on Monday morning, and his eye looked red and swollen. He was exhausted.

The doctor looked at him and decided it was an infection. She said this happened once in maybe 10,000 cases. This was not the time to win the lottery. She then sent him to a retina specialist, who agreed it was an infection, took out fluid for further study and made an appointment for him today to have the infection removed.
If the surgery works, he will have the sight back in his eye, and we’ll breathe a sigh of relief. If the surgery doesn’t work, he will lose the sight in that eye. I agree, there are a lot of worse things that can happen. I don’t have to list them. But everything is relative. I waited… and waited… and waited.. until I finally heard the question out of my father’s mouth, “What if I can’t play tennis anymore?”

My father is 87 years young. He retired only a few years ago from his dental lab practice. He doesn’t shake. He still has his sense of humor. He plays doubles 2 – 3 times per week. He drives my mother to her doctor’s appointments. He drives my daughter to Hebrew School every Tuesday afternoon. He loves to spend time with my kids. He and my mother go out for dinner. They don’t live elaborate lives, but they still own their house and live their own lives.

“What if I can’t play tennis anymore?” There are a few things in this world that mean a lot to my father. I believe the top three are: family, dentistry and tennis. Each topic comes with its own set of people, memories and communities. Tennis is an outlet. On the way home from the surgery, the conversation focused mainly on dental topics – people he knows or knew and his work with dental students at BU and Tufts.

Honestly, he would play better tennis with one decent eye than most men his age with two good eyes, but that’s not the point. Despite having to take meds to keep his heart pumping right and maintain his cholesterol, he is in no way ready to be idle. He has already given up his dental practice, he is not ready to give up tennis. Will he be able to drive?

My father worked hard his whole life. He doesn’t ask for much. He doesn’t complain. He would never pity himself. Having experienced the tragedies and grime of WWII, not much compares to him on the “awful” scale. He has suffered two heart attacks and ulcer attacks. He has had a shoulder problem and tennis elbow. He contracted diabetes later in life. Yet, not once have I ever heard him express concern that he wouldn’t be back on the court after a reasonable period of time. At least not out loud.

I think my father is afraid. This is rare. He was afraid when he went in for his first heart surgery in 1989. And although he knows a bum eye isn't a matter of life or death, literally, it grazes the surface at figuratively. Usually, when there is a serious matter at hand, he'll joke. It can be annoying, but that's his way of dealing with it. This is no joke.

To be continued…

Charity is a year-round sport

So much to do for “the holidays.” So little time. Cards, meals, gifts. It is overwhelming. The holidays also elicit charity and donation. It seems this is the time when we get into the spirit of thinking of those less fortunate. We offer meals, toys, clothes and even money to those who might otherwise go without. We think about our world differently. I hope it’s because we do appreciate what we have and want to give back. That’s wonderful, and we shouldn’t stop it, but what about the other 11 months of the year? What do the less fortunate do during the spring, summer and fall when times are tough?

There are many opportunities to do a “mitzvah” or a good deed throughout the year. Donate food to a food bank, toys and clothes to the Vets or Big Brother Big Sister. Do a Walk Against Hunger (what I think they should rename Walk for Hunger), raise money for cancer research, help clean up a local park. I am sure if you search online, you’ll find so many places to donate, contribute and offer your services. It doesn’t have to be for the less fortunate. Play bingo at a local nursing home, volunteer at a local hospital to arrange and deliver flowers to patients. If you are having trouble finding them, ask your local church or synagogue, or the town hall for ideas.

My point: Don’t wait for the holidays to give back to the community. Charity is a year-round sport.

"What if..."

How many times have you said to yourself, ”What if…?” in the past week or month? You might have said it in the context of, “What if I say x? What will the other person think?” Or “What if I hadn’t eaten that second piece of pie? My pants probably wouldn’t be more snug right now.” Or “What if I had written myself a note? Then, I wouldn’t have forgotten to buy toilet paper when I was at the supermarket today.” We all play mind games with ourselves. We question our decisions or choices. We even question others’ decisions or choices. We ask if we could be doing something better.
Some “What ifs…” are more about learning, such as, “What if I had studied harder? I might have done better on that exam.” That is a learning opportunity and is a positive experience.

Others are more about paying the consequences of doing something. This is more serious and can result in a more negative experience. “What if I hadn’t sent that email to the wrong person? I might still have my job.” Eeks. One this is common to each of these examples, we have control over the process and the outcome.

Two events in my life over the past week have made me think the “What if…” in a more serious way. “What if my cousin Bobby hadn’t been driving on Monday night? He would still be alive now.” And after watching the advanced showing of the movie, The Road, I stepped outside, looked at the glitter and glamour of Legacy Place in Dedham and asked myself, “What if an apocalypse really did happen?”

I know neither of these events is in my control, but I still think about it and tease scenarios in my mind. What really happened in Bobby’s case? Would I be able to survive on nothing and protect my children?

I believe these situations make us feel more alive. They wake us up and remind ourselves about how fortunate we are to have what we have. We are present. We are living and breathing.

“What if..” can drive you crazy. “What if…” can make you a better person. Which one will you choose?

Bobby Sherman, I'll miss you

At 7:45 am on November 17, I received a call from my cousin, Randy. My cousin, Randy’s brother, Bobby Sherman, passed away in a car accident last night. Bobby lived in Virginia Beach, VA. He was 55 years young. In addition to Randy, he left a sister-in-law, Roberta, long-time girlfriend, Lynn, and many friends and family members. My father grew up as Bobby and Randy’s Uncle Lee. Bobby and he were close. They remained close to this day. My father had spoken with Bobby just two days ago. My father has said my son, Ari, reminds him of the way Bobby was as a little boy. Smart, precocious, always with some plan of action.



After hearing the news, I was shocked. I cried. Several memories ripped through my mind. The first one was when Bobby accompanies me on the piano at my wedding as I sang a song to my new husband. “What am I playing,” he said. “What I told you on the phone,” I answered.

Bobby was a child prodigy on the piano. He played by ear since the age of three. My father tells the story that when he would practice, he hated to read notes. They slowed him down. So, when his mother, my Aunty Florence, heard him going a mile-a-minute on the piano, she would yell out (in a lovely Southern drawl),”Bobby, read the notes! When he got older, he attended the Juilliard School and became a concert pianist. Brilliant. He later went into his family’s furniture business. Long story.
Another memory was simply when we’d get together, which wasn’t too often, I loved to hear him call my father Uncle Lee and my mother Aunty Pearl in his adorable Southern drawl. He called me darlin’. When he and a piano were in the same room, a sing-a-long was sure to ensue. He was very lovable and welcoming.

Bobby won’t be at a family Bar Mitzvah in January. Randy has lost his mother, his father and now his brother. Lynn has lost a best friend, companion and lover. And I am sad for my father. He won’t be able to call him by phone anymore. My father lost a nephew many years ago from a motorcycle accident. He always hated motorcycles after that. I am sure he won’t stop driving, but it will certainly make him and all of us a bit more alert on the road, at least for a little while.

I have spoken with a couple of cousins. We are still processing this. We know some of the story, but we’ll never know the rest of the story. What was he thinking about right before the crash? Was he alive at all after the crash? If so, for how long? I hope he didn’t suffer.

We all have those family members or friends with whom we don’t speak often, but we know “is there.” Maybe we get an update from others. Maybe we call once in a while. We exchange holiday cards and make sure things are ok.

Then, that person isn’t there anymore. Would I have done something differently if I had known? It’s not a fair question. Will I now contact more friends and family more regularly? I might. It seems cruel to say, but life goes on. Bobby would want it that way. Bobby was a free spirit. He didn’t like to “read the notes.”

Bobby, we will miss you.

Andre, thank you for being "Open"

Let’s just get this out of the way. I still love Andre Agassi. I think he has done a lot for tennis and continues to contribute to society in positive ways. I think Andre is brave and sincere. He didn’t write a book for our forgiveness. If he was sensitive about what the public thought, he never would have admitted to his severe and deep unhappiness with playing tennis, his brief addiction to drugs or his affinity for image to the point of wearing a hairpiece on court. Writing the book was cathartic. His life was full of control, none of which was his own. He was constantly in relationships and situations which didn’t feel right but which he stayed in nonetheless. It is a wonder he didn’t do more damage than a year of drugs and wear a hairpiece.

The one point I think we should focus on is that Andre was blessed with a second chance and he made it work. He turned his life around. Here’s a man with no more than a 9th grade education who is more mature, articulate and sophisticated than some with a PhD. He knew he had this chance and, ironically, he chose tennis as a way to dig himself out of a hole. He ended up #1 in tennis and on top of the world. He retired with style and grace.

Andre founded the Andre Agassi College Preparatory Academy (http://www.agassiprep.org/), a charter school in Las Vegas, to make sure children in underserved areas got a chance for the best education. He wants to see children go past the 9th grade.

Many have criticized Andre for lying… for taking drugs… for wearing a hairpiece. I ask those people, “Have you ever been so low you didn’t know which way was up?” “What would you have done?” “Would you have been strong enough to turn your life around?”

My point: We should thank Andre Agassi for being open about his life and for giving people, who might think there’s no way out, an inkling of hope that there is. He took the first step – he was honest with himself. That made it possible for him to then be honest to others. On the Academy’s Web site, it quotes Nelson Mandela, “For to be free is not to simply cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”

Thankful for the small stuff, even when they come in threes

The phone rang at 5:15 yesterday morning. At first, I wasn’t sure if it was Abby’s alarm or a dream. Brad answered. “uh huh, uh huh.. she’s right here.” “It’s your mother,” he said. “Oy, I thought.” I figured no one died, thank G-d, but I knew it was something about Ari. He had slept at my parent’s house the night before. Was his fever up again? “Hi, what’s up?” I asked. “Ari has a bad stomach ache. He’s been up since 4 a.m. on the toilet.” “Well, I replied, do you think he’ll go back to sleep? Do you want me to pick him up? Put him on the phone.” “Hi Mama, I have a bad tummy ache.” “Hi Boo Bear, want me to pick you up?” “Yes.” [said with slight drama]. I spoke with my mother. “Can you take his temperature? Have him ready, I’m coming now. Thanks.”

So, I got dressed and picked him up. Fortunately, my parents live only 15 minutes away. Driving at that hour reminded me of going to the airport to catch an early flight. I was sorta awake, as I had gone to bed fairly early the night before. Very few people were out. It was eerily dark. Can anyone really tell if it is the evening or early morning? I thought about what to do in this situation. He wasn’t running a fever. He wasn’t throwing up. He didn’t have diarrhea. I made a mother’s guess that this was not ER worthy, maybe doc worthy. I decided it was gas that needed to find its way out.

When I arrived, they were sitting at the bottom of the stairs near the door. Ari’s head was on my mother’s lap. I filled up my water bottle with warm-ish water. In the car, I made him drink as much as he could. When we got home, I put him into bed with Brad as I had a tennis game in 30 minutes. Hey, nothing was going to happen in the next hour anyway.

During my tennis game, he called, “Mama! I made it! Can I go to Ben’s house?” “Great! Sure. I’ll drive you there in an hour.”

Score one for the small stuff.

Just about 12 hours later, I was taking a much needed shower. The phone rang. Brad then called through the door, “It is Abby. Carly’s mother thinks she has poison ivy.” “Oh no! Call the doctor’s office and see if they’ll still be open when you pick her up. If they’re not open, go straight to CVS Minute Clinic or talk with the pharmacist.” I finished my shower in a hurry and quickly changed the sheets on her bed, as well as all of the towels. Then, I called Brad. He said it didn’t look like poison ivy, but rather a rash from when she had shaved in the morning. Sure enough, it was just a rash. She shouldn’t use shaving cream anymore. I got on the phone with Abby. “I’m going back to Carly’s house,” she said. “Good,” I said. And you can use Dove soap when you shave from now on. Have fun.”

Score another one for the small stuff.

Fast forward 20 minutes. I decided to check email while waiting for Brad. I was starved, but we were going to go out for dinner, so I didn’t want to eat too much. Just enough. I decided on a chunk of Gouda cheese. One chunk wasn’t enough. “One more small one.” In my slight rush, I not only took a chunk of cheese but also sliced my left ring finger and some of my thumb. “Oh, this is terrific.” I usually pass out with this kind of thing, but I didn’t. I actually studied the damage and realized I would be able to keep the fingers and likely not need stitches. The thumb was a grazing, so that came second. I wrapped the ring finger as tightly as I could in a towel and laid down. The skin was intact. During all of this Ari was oblivious, playing video games. I took two Advil and we went out for dinner. After dinner, we watched a movie, read and went to bed, fingers intact although a little achy.

Next morning, my fingers hadn’t turned gangrene. I went to spin class and yoga. I can type.

Score a third for the small stuff.

My point: Things come in threes. Think about it. You’ll see what I mean. At the time, each incident consumes you. When it passes, it’s another notch on the life continuum. Fortunately, my incidences were small compared to the horrid illnesses people face and the ongoing problems the world faces.

And I am thankful for the small stuff.

Ashland Middle School Rocks

Last night, I attended the Ashland Middle School Open House and was blown away by the enthusiasm, creativity and commitment of the teachers. My daughter recently started 6th grade there and has been very positive about her experience so far. I can see why. My daughter happens to be on Team Sun. The other team is Moon. This is a way to manage the students in a more organized and personal way.

During the Open House, parents first met in the Little Theatre where we heard introductions from the team of teachers. Even “Gym” is now called “Wellness” and integrates nutrition and health issues into the physical education element. The students get a survey course for French and Spanish to help them decide which language they would like to focus on. Students are placed carefully into Math and Language Arts classes. Science is extremely hands-on, and Social Studies is more than maps.

Parents then followed a schedule to each class where the teachers gave a presentation about their goals and approach. Two words that came to mind (I think I’ve been in tech too long): transparency and consumer empowerment.

Not only did the teachers share curriculum, but they also tied it into the requirements from the Board of Education. I came away with a connection to the school and the teachers. We’re in this together to offer the best education possible.

At the same time, it also pulls the parents more closely into our children’s education. We are empowered to act. We know their philosophies. We know what to expect. We know where to go if she needs help.

The rest of the story is that a couple of years ago, a couple of people scared the heck outta me about the poor quality of the Middle School. Suffice it to say, it gave me pause. But I wanted to wait and see for myself. I had attended a couple of introductory sessions with the school principals and was very impressed by the amount and quality of communications we received prior to our daughter starting 6th grade. This gave us hope. Last night’s Open House solidified my confidence that she is in the right place. It’s now up to her to take advantage of the opportunities and do her job well.

My point: Don’t believe everything you hear. Take responsibility. You could be pleasantly surprised.

Can social media save lives?

Here is a story in ZDNet that intersects healthcare, security, patient privacy and rights, and social media. How I Tweeted My Way out of Spinal Surgery.

Long story short, Twitter and the iPhone very well might have saved Sarah Cortes’s life by “helped her escape from the clutches of hospital staff whom, she claims, tried to intimidate and coerce her into accepting unnecessary spinal surgery.”

It started with “Trapped in hospital in rural Pennsylvania, fractured spine. Need a neurosurgeon in Boston.”

What ensued was very fast, almost unbelievable action by Paul Levy, who also straddles the healthcare and social media world, and other physicians.

There are many holes in the story as it is told. And Cortes admits to deleting the Tweets, but it appears the hospital acted selfishly and wasn’t necessarily thinking about the patient’s best interests as evidenced by the result. It raises a scary question about the intent of some of the physicians and hospitals.

This situation is most unusual. Cortes is a technology consultant and blogger, associated with ISACA. For anyone to get such quick action without a usual referral and waiting period is unheard of. It seems that this situation ended up being a test on social media as much as an exercise in proper healthcare.

One can dice and slice this in many directions, but one conclusion I would like to make is: question authority. A patient must be her own best advocate. Ok, maybe that was two conclusions.

Serena, Have Some R-E-S-P-E-C-T

What is a winner? Is it just the number of matches won? No. A winner is also someone who is a fierce competitor, gives 110% on the court for him/herself, sets goals and is disciplined. The discipline part not only implies training, but also how one handles oneself on and off the court and upholds sportsmanlike conduct. A winner shows respect for him/herself and the game.

Serena's outburst at the 2009 US Open

Serena Williams, one of the most talented and intense players in tennis, lost her temper badly last night at the USOpen semis match against Kim Clijsters. The score was 4-6, 5-6 and 15:30 when she served a second serve and it was called a foot fault by the line judge. At first, Serena seemed to calmly get another ball and prepare to stave off match point. Something she is perfectly capable of doing. Instead, she exploded at the lines judge, dropping F*** bombs and going into one of the worse examples of unsportsmanlike conduct displayed on the tennis court.

The tourney directors and the umpire called the lines judge to the chair to relay her side of the story. After some conversation, most of which was inaudible by the fans, we saw Serena cross to Kim’s side of the court, extend her hand and let Kim know she just won. Kim was shocked and wasn’t sure what to do but shake hands and sit down.

According to the rules of tennis, if a player threatens or curses any of the umpires or lines judges, he or she gets a warning. Since Serena already had a warning because she smashed her racquet in the first set, her next warning meant a penalty point. And since it was match point for Kim at 15:40, it was the end of the match.

After the match, cameras tried to get footage of Serena backstage. Although her entourage kept the cameras from filming for any length of time, we saw enough. Serena was laughing with her sister and looked slightly cavalier about the whole thing. She then spoke at a press conference, answering questions. My hopes were shattered when she admitted John McEnroe to be one of her main idols and she didn’t regret the outburst.

Here are some questions I have been thinking about:

1. Was the line judge right to call the foot fault?
Yes. I believe the lines judge was doing her job. Both Venus and Serena were having trouble with their serves all tournament. This call didn’t come out of the blue.

2. Was the tournament referee right to enforce another warning to Serena and thus a penalty point?
Yes. Serena isn’t bigger than the game. She had already displayed horrid behavior in the prior set, received the warning and was on the verge of trouble. Serena should have learned from that and moved on. She could have used that energy to focus on her match. Easy to say, I know. But I have seen her do it.
3. If Serena had had a coach, would she have been able to better control her anger?
Yes. I am a proponent of players having a coach on the sidelines to consult with at odd games. I might be missing something, but I cannot think of another sport where a player is banned from getting coaching at certain times of the game. Even doubles players can talk to one another and strategize. But a singles player is alone. That certainly adds to the difficulty and excitement of the game, but at the same time, it puts them at a disadvantage. Taking this moment in time, a [good] coach would have been able to stop Serena from getting herself into deeper trouble. No one can say how the match would have ended had Serena’s outburst not happen, but at least it would have ended the way a tennis match should - with the winner feeling the sweet satisfaction of earning a berth in the finals and the loser virtually passing along the torch, showing grace and courtesy.

4. Did Kim win the match or Serena lose the match?
Kim played outstanding tennis. Period. She had Serena on the defense and truly was on her way to winning the match despite any outside forces. Serena wasn’t playing as well. I will not bore you with stats, but suffice it to say, the numbers spoke for themselves. Kim deserved the win either way. But I also wonder if Serena took the side of “she’s not going to beat me, I am going to lose,” thereby taking away some of the “defeated” status in Serena’s eyes. I have no proof of this, but psychologically, it takes the edge away from the loss.

My point: Serena should carry all the responsibility for what happened. She should issue a formal apology to the USTA, the USOpen execs, the lines judge and to Kim. Serena should also write an article to her fans, particularly the younger crowd, explaining why her behavior was intolerable and encouraging up-and-coming players that to be a true winner takes discipline on and off the court.

Best of luck Kim (Clijsters) and Caroline (Wozniacki). I know it will be a clean match tonight.

Warren School thanks Harvey Leonard

On May 4, Ari’s school, the Warren School in Ashland, was hopping with excitement. It was the official opening of the Warren School Weather Observatory. Mrs. Karen Taylor’s first grade class donned their handmade weather-themed hats, got their poems ready and went into the courtyard to view this massive structure for the first time. That alone would have been exciting enough, but there was one other piece which really put the icing on the cake. Channel 5 Meteorologist Harvey Leonard came.

Harvey spoke with the students about weather and why learning about the weather is so exciting and educational. Harvey also helped the children try out the new wooden deck, ladder and observation area, complete with a wind sock, weather vane and rain gauge.

The students asked questions, read their poems and asked more questions. Harvey soaked it all in, basking in the moment of seeing a new generation of children who would develop a true appreciation for his passion. Harvey showed a wealth of kindness and patience. He answered every question and reacted to every comment which came his way, including one from a boy who said, “I need to go to the nurse and get my allergy medication!”

Harvey then joined two students in the office to announce the first official weather station reading over the PA system to the entire school. First graders will be using the weather station daily, recording observations to log and reporting their findings to fellow students on the morning announcements.

Kudos to Mrs. Taylor for submitting the winning proposal to the Ashland Education Foundation, which provided a $2,000 grant. Volunteer Julian Doktor, a retired educator in Ashland, offered his skills as master craftsman. Indoor equipment allows weather readings in bad weather, too.

It was a day to remember at the Warren School in Ashland. Thank you Harvey Leonard for making it extra special.

The Words of the Dalai Lama

Before now, I had never read much about the Dalai Lama, the man one addresses as His Holiness. He looks like he's at peace, doesn't he? Here is a man who, at age 16, lost his freedom in Tibet. At age 24, he lost his country to harsh Chinese rule. Those years were filled with constant fear and threat. In the 50 years since, there has been continuous sad news from Tibet, which puts the Dalai Lama in a difficult position. Even so, he maintains people should approach life with compassion and a realistic attitude. He says peace of mind and good health bring big benefits, and create a peaceful atmosphere.

My friend Cece Doucette recently heard the Dalai Lama speak and shared her notes with me. I would like to share some of them here:

Humanity and a friendly attitude are primary. Kindness, love and affection are universal, they bring happiness. Friendship, concern and respect for one another are universal inner values.

When you approach life with an open heart, everyone is a potential friend. Hatred, anger and fear eat away at our immune systems. Those who go through life with the focus on I, My, Me have been scientifically shown to have a greater risk of heart attack.

Everyone is just a human being. When we look at someone, we should see that without regard for his or her status. There is no difference among us.

When we are frustrated by an outside event, close your eyes and go inside for peace. This is a good lesson for young people to learn today.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. If life is too easy, obstacles seem too big. Develop a realistic attitude.

There is no singular solution to the world’s problems. If you base your life on material goals, you will never be content. There is no limitation, however, on mental values and spirituality.

Make a simpler life, be kind, do what you can for the ecology.


My point: It is easy to write and read these words. It is more difficult to put them into practice. Try to take even one message and follow through with it in your day-to-day practice. See what happens. You might be pleasantly surprised.

Been to the Bank Lately?

Have you been to the bank lately? I don't mean the ATM. I mean to a teller at a real person. I did. And it was a very positive experience.

Last week, I went to the bank with the kids to open savings accounts for each of them. I hadn’t received their ATM cards yet. Even if we had, I would not have been able to push $30 worth of rolled quarters, nickels and dimes through the little slot anyway. So, off to the bank I went. I grumbled a bit bc I had to wait until 9 a.m., but I survived.

I arrived at 9:10 and the place was hopping. The very tall man in front of me asked me how I was. How pleasant! The woman behind me was trying to tame a fidgety toddler named Jackie with a lollipop. Every window was busy, and tellers were taking their time with customers. The receptionist was making sure everyone was taken care of and offered to conduct certain kinds of transactions if it meant easing the line.

The experience was refreshing and reminded me of days gone by when you didn't have a choice but to go to “the window.” My teller, Linda, was friendly and cheerful. She asked me if I knew about a specific program and described its benefits. Helpful. I walked out with a smile.

Well done, Bank of America. Thanks for the memories. I will be back.

Leave Mr. Obama and his BlackBerry Alone

All those in favor of President Obama giving up his Blackberry raise your hand? All those in favor of him keeping it? I thought so.

A recent Newsweek article titled, “Will the BlackBerry Sink the Presidency?” delved into this topic. The article mainly discusse the danger of interruptions by the Blackberry on brain processes. The authors write, “Given the damage caused by interruption overload and continuous partial attention, we can infer either of two things about people who use their BlackBerry while holding a conversation, weighing decisions, trying to solve a problem or attempting to do creative work with, they claim, no ill effects. Possibility one: they are lying. Possibility two: their work just isn't that hard.” This was based on research from the Harvard Business School.

Can you picture it? “Excuse me Queen Elizabeth, I didn’t hear you. I was looking at my BlackBerry.”

I would imagine the President gets interrupted by many more things, such as people, more than he might his BlackBerry. In fact, I don’t know how he can sit and think with the number of meetings, calls and much ado about whatever whenever and wherever he is. His BlackBerry probably allows him to take a step back and get lost in his thoughts once in a while.

The authors also write, “Truly novel solutions and ideas emerge when the brain brings together unrelated facts and thoughts. That is hard to achieve when you are attacking the problem head on.”

There is also something about low self-esteem and using a BlackBerry. If that’s true, then we have millions upon millions of people in all positions with low self-esteem. Don’t blame that on the BlackBerry.

I use one. It saves me as I am not in the office all day and can stay quite connected to the mother ship and my clients. I am more confident with it in hand when I need to be out of the office.

My point: Fortunately, the folks at Newsweek ended the piece with “…If you're the most powerful man in the world? Not a worry.” Whew. I got scared for a minute that people really believed the president wasn’t going to be able to run the country well because he had a BlackBerry. What’s next? Take away books because they might give him ideas?

CVS MinuteClinic - Worth the Trip

I haven’t been sick in a decade. Not like this anyway. It started as a little cold. I can handle that. Then it blossomed into a 101 fever and a bronchial thing that really threw me for a loop. Of course, it was on a weekend. I didn’t want to go to the ER, so I tried the CVS MinuteClinic on Route 135 in Ashland. Very impressive. There is a room near the pharmacy that looks similar to any doctor’s office exam room. I signed in via kiosk and walked right in. There’s something new in the medical profession. A very nice nurse practitioner named Heather greeted me and asked me some questions. She jotted all of the information on her computer, which I learned is a proprietary system.

I was covered under my Tufts health insurance, so I only had to pay my usual co-pay. An ER would have been double the price, and I would have still been waiting.

After she got the basics, she began some tests. First, she swabbed my nose to test for the flu. She then checked for strep, ear infection and other basics. Good news. No flu, no strep and no ear infection, although lots of fluid. That also left her with a decision to make about what I did have. She checked my lungs. Yes, I have junk in there, but when I cough, it breaks up. Another good sign. I was feeling better already.

After some thought, and consulting with another colleague, she decided I had a virus and to take Mucinex plus an inhaler. Mucinex is OTC, but the inhaler with albuterol, would be a prescription. She assured me none of this would break the bank either.

The bill for everything, including my usual co-pay, was $67. Price to not have to wait in the ER or a doctor’s office... priceless.

I got my meds and went home.

It has been four days, and I am feeling much better. I even went to the gym yesterday, which helped my psyche more than anything.

And the other day, I received a card from the CVS MinuteClinic and Heather saying, “I hope you’re feeling better.” Wow.

My point: Good for CVS for doing this. It fills a need and will hopefully relieve some of the stress in the ER. Maybe my case wasn’t extremely complex, but this is the kind of case this place can and should be able to handle. I give it an A. Now, if I could just recover my taste buds….

Why I love social media

Last year, I caught the social media bug and haven’t looked back. It started at work when we held a Social Media Olympics. The agency was divided into teams and we had to accomplish certain tasks in the social media context to develop our skills as PR professionals– develop a blog, get on LinkedIn, Twitter, Facebook.. any of those areas, put more Search Engine Optimization into clients’ press releases. The list goes on. It was mainly for work. I can’t learn something just by listening. I need to do it, get it wrong, do it again and maybe get it right the next time.

I am more active on Twitter and have recently joined Facebook. I truly enjoy both. First, I love people. I love learning about people, getting to know them and making friends. Everyone has something to offer. And I enjoy sharing. Facebook has allowed me to connect with friends from college and camp. It is also a great way to stay connected with friends and family. Not sure about you, but there aren’t enough hours in the day or days in the month to get together and stay in touch with everyone. With Facebook, you can comment on something, and your “peeps” will get it and possibly respond.

At one time, we thought email was taking the personal out of communication. Then we realized we couldn’t live without it for work or our personal lives. Facebook is the same thing. It doesn’t take the personal out of relationship, but rather it fosters relationships and even helps build new ones.

My point? If you’re not on Facebook or Twitter or any of the social media platforms because you don’t think you have the time, think again. Let’s face it, people are nosey. We want to know what everyone else is thinking. If we didn’t, all of media would evaporate. Social media might even help us weed out what’s out there. Even Sam ended up liking green eggs and ham.

I Gotta Kick the Habit

It takes a tragedy to open up someone’s eyes. Let’s take… cell phones and texting while driving. Estimates of the number of U.S. traffic deaths caused by cell phone talking while driving are generally in the 2,000 - 3,000 range with one hundred times as many injuries. Now, add in texting. You get the picture.

I admit it. I will use my cell in the car. I have also texted on my Blackberry And anyone who denies he/she does that is lying. Abigail always yells at me for doing that. She’s right.

Which is more valuable, your family’s safety or that one more email to the friend or client? I’ll take the family any day of the week.

This isn’t going to be easy but I am going to vow not to text during car rides. I cannot promise I won’t use the cell phone, but I will try to use it less. Maybe only receive a call.

I think I know what it means to have a habit. I need to kick the habit before it’s too late.