Current project: organizing the thoughts flooding my brain...
I think I might need a notebook.
Speaking of which, I get to buy school supplies this year, for myself! Remember this sad little post? The "sacrificial" year is over (during which very little was actually sacrificed other than my education) and I am heading back to academic life on the 18th. Despite a few challenges with my work schedule and some fear associated with making it to class on time, I am rather excited about going back. I'm just so close to finishing. I need to see this goal realized.
Robbie's worked a lot this week and it's wearing on him. I tried my usual Your Good At What You Do and Just Hang In There speech, but I know it fell on deaf and tired ears. What he really needed was a good sleep-in and a little fun. He missed out on a really fun First Friday with Brent, myself and new friend Joe, but it's nearly noon and I've tried to remain quiet and occupied this morning so he can have some uninterrupted sleep in bed alone - which, let's face it, is the best sleep one can have.
The doctor I work for had an extra clinic Friday and I was so happy to see a few of our patients feeling MUCH better than a couple of weeks prior. When I worked in hospice I had a hard time understanding why doctors and patients waited so long to choose terminal care. I understood, or so I thought, the desire to keep fighting and trying new treatments - but - it just seemed to me that when it was time, it was time. Shouldn't patients have the opportunity to die with dignity at home within the boundaries they create surrounded by people who love them?
Oh, how naïve I was. Not that I am too terribly enlightened now - but at the least I am a bit more aware. The truth is hospice care IS a wonderful service and SHOULD be made available to metastatic diseased cancer patients. Unfortunately, the rules regarding how, when and why a patient is being referred to hospice care are typically too rigid and those patients desiring to continue treatment are excluded from receiving hospice care.
A good example is a patient I see on a very regular basis who has simply maintained a life against some incredible odds. I know she could benefit greatly from many of the services hospice offers, but she is not eligible for those services because she continues to live by trying every chemo drug available to her and her disease. She is living with her cancer and fights daily for her life. She will die from this disease, but she's not willing to succumb to it by Medicare timetables. It was really good to see her walk into clinic yesterday. Up until that point I've only seen her frail body in a wheelchair. I guess I wish there was a middle ground between the two worlds I know...cancer care and hospice.
I've really been trying to figure out how a Master's degree in Art History can work in the clinical cancer setting. I don't have a concrete plan yet, but, figure there has to be a way to make them both work...literally.
Somehow I always thought that by the time I was 31 I would have a number of things "figured out." Daily it seems I am only more confused. Perhaps I only need to keep moving forward, where ever that leads me. I mean, really, what more is there to do?
I saw some good art last night. Stuff I would buy, stuff I wish I could paint myself, stuff I wish I had thought of first, instead of the girl with the purple hair. Question: How do you get to that point? You know, where your stuff is hanging on the wall and people are milling about looking at it, indulging in a little free vino, talking about how the work seems "unrefined" or "not as good as that other persons stuff." On second thought...
I hear Robbie, time to get on with my current reality: a grocery list.
Speaking of which, I get to buy school supplies this year, for myself! Remember this sad little post? The "sacrificial" year is over (during which very little was actually sacrificed other than my education) and I am heading back to academic life on the 18th. Despite a few challenges with my work schedule and some fear associated with making it to class on time, I am rather excited about going back. I'm just so close to finishing. I need to see this goal realized.
Robbie's worked a lot this week and it's wearing on him. I tried my usual Your Good At What You Do and Just Hang In There speech, but I know it fell on deaf and tired ears. What he really needed was a good sleep-in and a little fun. He missed out on a really fun First Friday with Brent, myself and new friend Joe, but it's nearly noon and I've tried to remain quiet and occupied this morning so he can have some uninterrupted sleep in bed alone - which, let's face it, is the best sleep one can have.
The doctor I work for had an extra clinic Friday and I was so happy to see a few of our patients feeling MUCH better than a couple of weeks prior. When I worked in hospice I had a hard time understanding why doctors and patients waited so long to choose terminal care. I understood, or so I thought, the desire to keep fighting and trying new treatments - but - it just seemed to me that when it was time, it was time. Shouldn't patients have the opportunity to die with dignity at home within the boundaries they create surrounded by people who love them?
Oh, how naïve I was. Not that I am too terribly enlightened now - but at the least I am a bit more aware. The truth is hospice care IS a wonderful service and SHOULD be made available to metastatic diseased cancer patients. Unfortunately, the rules regarding how, when and why a patient is being referred to hospice care are typically too rigid and those patients desiring to continue treatment are excluded from receiving hospice care.
A good example is a patient I see on a very regular basis who has simply maintained a life against some incredible odds. I know she could benefit greatly from many of the services hospice offers, but she is not eligible for those services because she continues to live by trying every chemo drug available to her and her disease. She is living with her cancer and fights daily for her life. She will die from this disease, but she's not willing to succumb to it by Medicare timetables. It was really good to see her walk into clinic yesterday. Up until that point I've only seen her frail body in a wheelchair. I guess I wish there was a middle ground between the two worlds I know...cancer care and hospice.
I've really been trying to figure out how a Master's degree in Art History can work in the clinical cancer setting. I don't have a concrete plan yet, but, figure there has to be a way to make them both work...literally.
Somehow I always thought that by the time I was 31 I would have a number of things "figured out." Daily it seems I am only more confused. Perhaps I only need to keep moving forward, where ever that leads me. I mean, really, what more is there to do?
I saw some good art last night. Stuff I would buy, stuff I wish I could paint myself, stuff I wish I had thought of first, instead of the girl with the purple hair. Question: How do you get to that point? You know, where your stuff is hanging on the wall and people are milling about looking at it, indulging in a little free vino, talking about how the work seems "unrefined" or "not as good as that other persons stuff." On second thought...
I hear Robbie, time to get on with my current reality: a grocery list.
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