Remembrances of Alex Tizon

I have had the good fortune of having two great sons-in-law and now I have lost one. .

I first met  Alex some 22 years ago when he drove Melissa home to Kansas City from Seattle.  She had just finished an internship with the Seattle Times and was home to finish a summer project for her graduate journalism degree.  Filipino parents that we were, Melissa anticipated the interrogatories that Alex might be subjected to.  She immediately cornered me with stern admonition. "Don't mess this up for me, mom.  He is really very important to me."  Alex has been a very important part of our lives since.

I came to know his storytelling which always spoke of the human condition and some of which changed my way of thinking. His news articles were not news reporting.  They were stories of people and the circumstances that got them where they were.  Some of his stories prompted me to change my own behavior.  His piece on The Killing of the Bears got me to seriously look at my relationship with the environment. It got me to take recycling seriously. He taught me about Filipinos in America, how we have been here for close to 400 years. Filipino sailors working in ships sailing from the Philippines to Spain would jump ship in Louisiana. Known as Manila men, they had a thriving dried shrimp business. I learned things like that from him.  Alex always cautioned against looking only at a single narrative. "There are always many narratives." he  said. Somehow I think that on some obscure level, we may have been kindred spirits, journalist and psychiatrist, both in the business of trying to understand how people find themselves where they are.

Once while dining on a counter at 13 Coins in Seattle, I told him I had always wanted to learn how to write but did not know how to string one good sentence after another.  (I escaped medical school without having written one paper.) "Don't worry about it, mom." He said. "Just find your own voice and write about what you know and what you love. And just write." I read his articles and studied his sentences for self training. I still cannot write good enough sentences.

Alex always made it a point to spend alone time with me whenever we got together,too infrequent as they were. Sometimes we had prolonged conversations over his favorite whiskey and my Riesling or over lunch in the neighborhood Thai restaurant. Sometimes it would be short like just driving me to the grocery store. He told about how he could be brooding at times. He talked about his marriage, his children, his career.  We talked about what great massage we got, where.

It was fun to see Alex with his daughters, from building forts with chairs and blankets or slides from upturned tables to listening to them exchange ideas as they girls got older. They hugged and laughed and watched silly TV shows or serious newscast. He comforted Dylan when she just wept and almost had a panic attack when the Trump win was announced.  He and Maya would kid each other and hug and tell each other silly jokes. They loved dogs and would take turns mauling their dog with kisses.

We became a part of Alex' family as he quickly became one of ours.  His siblings looked to him for counsel and we looked to him for opinions of what was going on in the world. We took vicarious pleasure in his writing trips from how dangerously freezing it was in the Arctic to his road trip across America after 911.

Alex loved my daughter very much and he thought he was the luckiest man ever because of her.  Every now and again, over the years, he would thank me for the beautiful person that Melissa had become, as if it was my doing.

Melissa loves Alex very much.  When she called and said, "Mom, Alex died." I at once felt the loss. More than my own loss, at that moment I felt my daughter's overwhelming pain. I felt my granddaughters' pain. I felt his family's pain. The mother part of me wept for them.

Alex was a magnificent writer greatly respected by his peers.  More importantly he was a good man and we are all the better for him.  Thank you for having been in our lives, son.

Alex Tizon, former Seattle Times reporter who won Pulitzer prize dies at 57

Remembering Cooper

My son, Rob, and Cooper, his canine friend and companion of 15 years said goodbye to each other today.  I am very very sad not just for Cooper but because I know how much he meant to Rob.  As Rob puts it,  " Fifteen years ago, we rescued each other. What a great run."

Cooper's last day

Cooper was a handsome mutt with a very gentle spirit.  Rob was in his late 20's, trying to find himself and Coop was a mutt just waiting to be found.  They were very much alike, quiet, gentle and loving. Cooper was a highly evolved soul who liked to observed life.  He taught Rob caring and responsibilty and relationships.  Rob, in turn, loved and nurtured him. I remember one day when Rob called with worry in his voice because Cooper had stepped on broken glass during a run.  Rob had to carry him down the hill and was relieved when the vet got him mended. Most other times, Cooper was just very low maintenance.

Rob's dad, Felix, was highly allergic to animal dander which caused him asthma attacks.  When Rob and Cooper came to visit, Cooper knew he could only stay downstairs and so he never came upstairs unless invited. He liked to sleep under the coffee table.  You hardly knew Cooper was around because he just sat around and watched.  Felix passed away a few years ago.  Rob and Cooper came home and stayed a while to keep me company.  Still struggling with sorrow, I would stay up till the wee hours. Cooper remained at my side every single night, only going downstairs to sleep under the coffee table  when he saw I had finally fallen asleep.  I was so moved by this kindness and I am still grateful.

I was sad when Cooper came home one weekend and Rob had to help him up the two stair steps into the house.  Coop had gotten so old, his knees now buckled when he walked.  He was clearly in pain and we knew he would have to leave one day.  I felt sad for Rob for what decision I knew he would have to make.  Rob said he would do what was best for Coop when the time came.  Seeing all the preparations Rob made to make their last day together meaningful, I again am moved and again I am grateful.  Cooper's friendship had helped shape Rob's gentle persona into a caring but strong man, capable of making well thought out, though painful decisions for someone he loves.

I thank you for the joy you have brought my son, Coop.  I wish you an auspicious rebirth, dear friend. And I love you very much, Rob.

Cooper and Rob

A Celebrated Life

My sister, Belen Oag, passed away on February 2,2016. She was 70 years old. She lived a well celebrated life.

Belen and I were the older of 13 children, some have gone before her.  Living in separate continents, we had been separated by time and place.  In the last few years, I have been free to travel and have chosen to spend a great deal of time visiting her in Sydney, Australia to recapture time lost. I have learned a lot about her during these visits.

Belen and I November 2014

We reminisced about our childhood and having had the good fortune of having been born poor (though we did not realize it at the time.)  We were born in a remote village in the Philippines.  It was not in the map.  We lived in standard issue bamboo and nipa (straw) huts.  It had no outhouse and we did our business outside and washed up in the river.  We planted and harvested rice and crops with our grandparents, learned to swim in San Miguel Bay by tying two dried coconuts for life preserver, rowing out in the middle of the bay, and jumping off capsized canoes.  (Ironic that as adults, we could not swim to save our lives.) We marveled at how far we had come. We thought it was a hoot that we had these experiences because it taught us to take life as it came.  And Belen looked the world in the eye and met it squarely.

Belen studied law at the Universityof the Philippines and after a few years of law practice, moved to Sydney, Australia.  She struggled to get accepted into law school again and eventually became a solicitor specializing in immigration law, which became her passion.  She was very a formidable lawyer, researching every possible loophole, often taking cases to the High Court if needed.  She was responsible for having many immigration law loopholes closed. Government immigration lawyers coveted her briefs and notes.

Belen would have died rich but for the major flaw of allowing her heart to get in the way of business. It was not uncommon for clients to come to her after exhausting their life savings with other lawyers with unsuccessful outcome. They could not pay her customary fees but she took them anyway.  I met clients who would come to the house to see her because they had a problem "That only Belen Oag could solve." It became a family joke together with her usual instruction to "Bring a piece of paper, write down and follow everything I tell you."  She was passionate about making sure that the immigrant brought the family intact and worked tirelessly to ensure that parents got their children. She was also a stickler for timing.  Like a chess player she could see the moves from start to the desired outcome.  It was important not only to know the what, why and how but especially the when.

Adversity was not a stranger to Belen.  She had more than her fair share of ups and downs and she took them as learning experiences.  Belen took care of siblings who strayed from their life paths at such enormous financial and emotional burden to herself, even I could not fathom.  She served numerous people some of whom even bit the hand that fed them.  She had her standard remark of "It was a lapse in judgment.  I just need to learn from it." On the surface, she seemed to be a glutton for punishment because she had no qualms about offering help again and again.  But like I said, her heart always led the way.

Towards the end of her life, as we talked about things, I discovered her life secret.  Belen loved the challenge.  She reveled in it.  "I first have to define the problem and know what it is and how it came about.  Then I can figure out the solutions."  The more difficult the challenge, the more resolute and invigorated she became.  She believed that there is no problem that cannot be solved in law or in your personal life. You just have to research it. You have to bite the bullet and ask yourself  how you got into the situation that you are in and only then can you get yourself out of it.  She even took to studying the challenge of the casinos, a pastime she enjoyed.  Whenever we went, I would be disgusted after losing my $50 casino donation quota while she would end with $500-1000 wins.  She would laugh at me and out of pity, gave me her insights on how to beat the slot machines.  I can't wait to try it.

Belen made no excuses for herself.  She admitted to being a lousy homemaker.  She could not cook either. When it was time for her daughter Mabelle to put on the annual boarding school senior bash, Belen gathered the committee, polled their talents, made the assignments saying it was not a democracy, that she knew nothing about giving a party but that she can take care of the trash and clean up.  I am told that to this day, it is a boarding school event yet to be topped.

Sometimes, when I would suggest a business attire to go to the office, she dismissed me with, "What for.  I am comfortable and confident within myself.  My attire does not define me."  You would not know it though because she was the slowest moving person you might ever meet.  She moved slowly, spoke softly and never had a harsh word for anyone.  She is the example how to slow it down so you can get things done faster.

Children Mabelle and Wello

Towards the end, she counted her blessings, her pride in her two children, Mabelle and Wello who had grown to be exceptionally good people.  She lamented that she could not see granddaughter Aria grow up. But she said if she had to do it over, there would be nothing she would change.

Belen Oag 1945-2016

Beloved sister, move on with your journey unencumbered and free to find challenges yet to be researched and solved.  But every now and again, let your spirit touch mine.  I will know that it is you. Know that you are loved. I truly truly miss you.

Lessons on the Way to Old Age: Be Here, Be Now

Now is the only time, here is the only place.  

Everything else is nothing more than a memory or a promise.

All too often we live in the past or in the future.  We are everywhere else but here.  We fail to realize that life happens here, now.  While it is prudent to prepare for the future, what we do here and now determines the kind of future we will have. 

In Kriya Yoga, one of the observances (virtues to cultivate) is known as Santosha, meaning contentment.  We are asked to be content when our lives are going well and just as content when our lives are going down the tubes. While we may not have control over things that happen to us, we do have control over our attitude and our responses. We are free to choose our responses.  We experience contentment only in the present moment, never in the past or the future.

Dwelling in the past drains energy; dwelling in the future lends itself to procrastination.  Sometimes, we fall in the trap of perceiving or judging the other person from our negative experience of them in the past such that we fail to see the good or the joy we can have with them now.  We fall in the trap of clinging to hurt, guilt and resentment.  Thinking someone had it to give or take away, we fail to nurture ourselves. Often, we postpone enjoyment to some future, more convenient or more affordable time and that opportune moment just never comes. 

We can experience something only once.  Now, quickly turns to the past and thus no two experiences can ever be the same.  Buddhists know this as impermanence.  

So be here now.  Be joyful in the moment.  Be confident that life is good.  Even in the most dire circumstance, there is always something to be grateful for.  Love like there is no tomorrow.

Author's Note:  This is the first of a series of this blog category titled: Lessons on the Way to Old Age. These are lessons, sometimes painfully but more often joyfully, learned througout my life, many of which I could have learned in my youth had I not been so inattentive and hard headed.  Hopefully someone will find some value in them.

Luis Gets a Pacemaker

Luis' heart malfunctioned.  A healthy vital and active man, he suddenly could not walk to his car without fatigue and feeling winded.  A trip to the doctor showed his heart rate was too low and a trip to the cardiologist showed he had good heart muscle but the electrical conduction of his heart was not working. He needed a pacemaker. It would be an overight stay.

He was scheduled for the procedure at MidAmerica Heart Institute, which happens to be a premier cardiovascular facility in the country.

Dr. Sanjaya Gupta is a handsome, young internist/ cardiac eletrophysiologist.  With illustrations on his Ipad, he explains to us what happened.  Your heart, he says, is strong but the electrical circuitry is faulty.  As people age the electrical circuitry degenerates much like the electrical wiring in an old house.  The wires degrade, has erratic conduction causing the lights to flicker and eventually not turn on at all.

He explains that in the heart are specialized heart muscles which function solely to conduct electricity to trigger heart contraction.  It starts at the sinus node to pace the atria that pump blood to the ventricles then to the atrio-ventricular node to pump blood out.  Luis' sinus node was fine but the AV node had failed completely.  The resulting heart action could sustain the resting body but not body in action.  He needed a pacemaker.

Dr. Gupta explains the procedure.  He makes a 3 inch incision by the collarbone where he can access the vena cava, a huge vein that receives blood from the rest of the body.  He threads titanium wires encased in silicone, the size of a spaghetti noodle inside the heart and positions it somewhere in the lower part of the ventricles where he screws it.  Once in place, the pacemaker, the weight of 2 silver dollars, is inserted under the skin.  The pacemaker is programmable for the individual's needs.  Since his sinus node is healthy, the impulses are routed from there to the pacemaker which then paces the ventricles.  It is usually set to a heart rate of 60 to 130 beats per minute.  If needed, down the line, the pacing can be programmed to start at the sinus node.

Luis agreed to the procedure but he did not want to be awake during the surgery.  The doctor and the nurse anesthetist assured him he would be in dreamland.

The procedure took 90 minutes.  Dr. Gupta explained how the procedure went.  He said he is always thrilled when the heart accepts the pacemaker and readily gives up the function to the device.  The only restriction post-op is that for 6 weeks, he not raise his left arm, (the side of the pacemaker) over his head  and not lift any weight with that arm so as not to dislodge the electrodes.  Luis has to take it easy for 6 weeks to give the body time to grow tissues around the titanium wires.  Then he can resume normal activities. (He also has to give up using the chain saw,archery, arc welding, rifle shooting, activities I'm sure may have been in his bucket.)  He receives a software app for his phone so that periodic checks of the device is done simply by placing the phone over the pacemaker.  The wire and electrodes will last his lifetime but the battery needs replacement every 10 years.  The new devices withstand being around microwaves and MRI scans but will trigger the TSA scanner at airports. (He says he does not mind the hand pat but only if done by a beautiful woman.) After the initial 2 week and 3 month checks, he only needs appointments yearly and on the 9.5 year, the battery will be replaced.  I have not found any battery for my computer, phone or car that lasts that long.  The doctor sighs.

So, Luis has a new lease on life.  We did not expect such a life threatening condition but the wonders of modern medicine are prolonging our lives.  I went to medical school in the 60's and respirators were just being put to use then.  We were doing dialysis through the peritoneum and gall bladder surgeries took several weeks of recuperation and time off work.

We are very grateful but as I have been taught in medical school, it is not a matter of adding years to life, but of adding life to years.  So, Luis and I are working on how we can make this life useful and meaningful not only for us both but especially for those lives we touch.

Growing Older

Most of the time, I do not see myself as being old.  I am reminded of my age only when I go to bed at night and those darn aches and pains just start getting pesky.  However, I have been thinking of age lately, (ordinarily nothing more than a number.)

This month, I accepted a month long assignment to provide psychiatric coverage in a center for cognitive disorders in Osage Beach, Missouri.  I did it mainly so I could spend some time  in my condo in this resort town that I had not visited in years. In the process of honing my geripsych skills, I have to come to terms with the inevitability of growing old and what that means to me.

My love, Luis, had been suffering from that virus, flu or flu-like whatever that a lot of people have been getting this winter.  He is my age and recalls being felled by illness only once in his life when he had acute appendicitis.  He exercises, eats right, is very involved with his children and is active from dawn to midnight.  He is always coming up with strategies for what he calls living well in our 70's. (Sadly, it includes exercise which is not in my vocabulary. I do yoga already. I protest to him. Is that not enough? He urges me to swim and walk and bike.)

That this flu-like illness would render him at 50 per cent activity is truly unacceptable to him.  And now he has a slow heart rate which precludes him from driving until the doctors can make a definitive treatment plan.  These last two weeks of his body saying, "Wait a minute.  I need to slow down for a moment" is just really difficult for him.

I ask myself.  What happens when denial no longer works for the aging body?  It gives Luis and I pause.  Dying is no big deal.  It is continuing to live a full life in the face of the limitations of a body that has lived too long that requires some thought and preparation.  I am thankful that my children , indulge my independence and have not seen fit to take over my life. I plan to live the rest of my life with purpose and meaning even when I must inevitably accept limitations.

In 2007, Atul Gawande, published an article titled , Rethinking Old Age in the New York Times, where he is a regular contributor. Next to my son-in-law, Alex Tizon, Dr. Gawande is my favorite writer and story teller.  I have been rereading this article lately.  It is as timely now as when he wrote it 8 years ago.  I highly recommend it for anyone who hopes to grow old....someday.

Fashionable Scrubs for Men at Blue Sky Scrubs

Health care uniform companies are becoming more and more aware of the needs of the health care worker.  Not only do uniforms have to be utilitarian but they also must have good fit.  Companies such as  http://www.blueskyscrubs.com/categories/Scrubs/Scrubs-for-Men/  utilize Teflon coated wrinkle resistant cotton for their scrubs and mens lab coats.

Blue Sky Scrubs is the brain child of Dr. Shelby Marquardt, an anesthesiologist who wanted to add some color to the drab scrub hats worn in the operating room.  She designed her own scrub hat and soon she was spending her free time sewing scrub hats for other employees who found the different patterns more interesting.  Blue Sky Scrubs was born.

Hospital and medical office uniforms have to be loose but comfortable with convenient pockets.  They are usually wrinkle resistant and easy to launder.  Except for operating room scrubs which have to stay in the OR and may not be worn elsewhere, most employees wear their scrub pants and tops as regular work attire.  This has given rise to creative design and brighter colors than the old plain green and blue.  Health care providers who work with children, for instance, now have various kid friendly designs to choose from.  Dental office assistants can have tooth and toothbrush motifs if they tire of the white uniform. Yes, fashion is coming to health care.
 

First Home

This guest post from Doris Dillon

My husband and I just purchased our very first home and we could not be more excited! From decorating to remodeling, we have a big new hobby that we work at constantly and fills up a majority of our free time. We really lucked out with the house and found an old, cottage-style home right in the neighborhood we wanted for quite the deal. I can’t believe that this entire house will be ours for the long haul. Since we both lived in condos and apartments before the move, we decided to install a new BEST home SeCURITY system to make us feel safe while we are at home or away. My husband travels a good bit with work, so a security system will give me piece of mind while staying at the house alone. Although we have a large yellow lab to help scare away any intruders, she can sometimes be more friendly and playful than a guard dog. With the new security system in place, I feel like our house is coming together and just needs the finishing touches.

Nature's Inspiration

Nature's Inspiration

Comparison Shop at Become.com

Shopping online is here to stay and sites that allow the customer to compare products from different sellers is a time saving way of shopping.  Become.com is a convenient website where you can do just that.

I stumbled across this site as I was looking for affordable apartment furniture and was pleasantly surprised at the variety of stores I could access without leaving the site.  There were several stores selling sectional couches to choose from for a small conversational area as well as lift top coffee tables to double duty for storage and entertainment.  I was even surprised to find an entire line of Candice Olson furnishings.  There is a an entire wallpaper section from zebra wallpaper print to velvet textures. I could find just about anything to furnish my apartment.

You can, of course, find electronics, jewelry, home and garden products, and many other things all in one place, compare prices, read reviews and recommendations with fewer clicks of the mouse.  Now how convenient is that?

Become.com has powerful search engines and advanced search technology that allows comparative shopping at the click of a mouse.  There are product reviews, shopping tips and other relevant consumer product information as well as coupons and discounts.  It has international capabilities which expose the consumer to products from different countries.

It was quite a pleasant experience to shop at Become.com.

Get Carried Away with HGTV

I must admit, I have been hooked on HGTV for sometime now. There is just something about vicariously enjoying nice houses in far away places or finding a solution to that crowded furniture look or the non-existent curb appeal.

There is no space Candice Olson cannot transform into a classy abode.I am certain she can do a lot even a with zebra wallpaper,( not my first choice for wallpaper but it is for someone.)  There is no home that Lisa Laporte cannot renovate, redecorate on a budget and get ready to sell. She can re-purpose sectional couches into separate conversation areas and make the look new again.  How about tips to unclutter that home office like storage in lift top coffee tables to maximize space.  And John Gidding can make the path to your front door very inviting.

Sectional Makes Good Conversation Space

HGTV is a virtual feast and an armchair travelogue. I enjoy looking for houses for the first time home buyer as well as  for the high end condo dweller in New York City or learning from Holmes about all the pitfalls of shoddy and shady contractors. I have fun traveling to different countries house hunting for just the right place.

Yes, I do love HGTV for taking me away to homes and places I could pretend to be mine.

Wounded Warriors in Transition

In 2004, the US Army reformed the way it took care of its wounded soldiers. In the past, while medical treatments and resources were available, it was often left up to the soldier and his family to find and utilize them, not an easy task when the soldier is not well and is in unfamiliar duty station. The Warriors in Transition Program sought to change this by forming a team around the wounded soldier so that there is coordinated care from start to finish. This is known as the Army Wounded Warriors in Transition Program. (AW2)

AW2 is set up to "care for all wounded, ill, injured military members and veterans wherever they are located, regardless of military status, and for as long as it takes.” Wounded and ill soldiers are assigned to a Warrior in Transition Battalion (WTB) also called Warriors in Transition Unit (WTU) where they receive a triad of care consisting of a squad leader or platoon sergeant to lead the wounded soldiers, a case manager who coordinates the soldier’s care through its various phases and the primary care physician who coordinates complex multiple treatment modalities. There are over 100 Warriors in Transition Units all over the country. Each branch of the military sets up their own way of caring for the wounded warrior. The AW2 program takes care of members of the regular Army, the Army reserves and the Army National Guard. 

  For As Long As It Takes
        Link to video

AW2 is headed by Col Gregory D. Gadson, a highly decorated hero of several wars who in his 2007 deployment lost both legs and injured his right arm to an IED. In 2009, there were some 6,000 severely injured, wounded and ill soldiers in the AW2 program.


Key to success of the program is the case management provided by an advocate to the soldier and his family through the different phases of recovery, rehabilitation and reintegration. During his time in the WTB, the soldier’s main job is to heal himself so that he can decide the best future for him between successful continued service in the active Army, Army reserves or successful transition to veteran service in the community. During this process the soldier also may undergo medical evaluation board (MEB) and/or physical evaluation board (PEB) to determine the percentage of disability. About 70 per cent of WTB soldiers are medically retired. Some soldiers return to their unit in deployment. Some remain as active duty soldiers in a different capacity. The advocate is there to assist in whatever decision the soldier makes.



Another important commitment of the Department of Defense is providing care for as long as it takes. Before a soldier is medically retired, the team ensures that he has improved as far as he can before he is transitioned to the veterans affairs system. Members of the AW2 triad of care are highly dedicated and committed to the soldiers they serve.The Wounded Warriors in Transition Program is one way America pays its debt to the American soldier.

I am a Warrior in Transition.
My job is to heal as I transition back to duty
or to continue serving my nation
as a veteran in the community.
This is not a status but a mission.
I will succeed in this mission
Because I am a Warrior
And I am Army Warrior strong.


Wounded Soldier and Family Hotline: 1-800-984-8523 or visit www.warriorcare.mil

First published in Qondio 
 

Contributor's Note A Veteran's Day tribute to those who keep the peace and guard our freedom.

External Links

Army Wounded Warrior Program | http://www.aw2.army.mil/news/videos/foraslong.html

Audie Murphy: America’s Most Decorated World War II Hero

Before James Dean and Elvis Presley and my late husband, Felix, I loved Audie Murphy.  I saw some of his movies more than once. I even watched his autobiographical movie, To Hell and Back. (I know now he was not a very good actor but at the time, I was an enduring fan.)  I was sad and morose for a week when he died in a plane crash in 1971. So, imagine my pleasant surprise when I saw part of a wall in the d-fac (dining facility) of the army hospital I work in, dedicated to the memory of Audie Murphy.

Audie Leon Murphy was born into a poor sharecropper family in Texas.  One of nine children, he worked to help his parents feed his siblings.  He was said to have learned to be a sharp shooter with the rifle from hunting game for his family.  When World War II broke, 18 year old Murphy tried to enlist in the Marines and the Paratroopers, both of which turned him down for being too small.  At enlistment, he was 5’4” tall and weighed 110 pounds.  He persisted, was eventually signed into the US Army and was almost relegated to a clerk job when he fainted in his first week of basic training.

Murphy saw action in Europe where he earned his numerous medals in between hospitalizations for malaria and war injury.  He earned most of his rank promotions on the field from enlisted man to Major.  He led his troops to battle in North Africa, Italy, Germany and participated in the liberation of the south of France.  Murphy received every possible medal of valor awarded by the United States, among others, the highest US award, the Medal of Honor, 3 Purple Hearts, the French Legion of Honor, one of five awards bestowed by France and one from Belgium.  His autobiography, To Hell and Back, chronicled the war effort and his experiences, careful to emphasize the contributions of his soldiers and fallen comrades rather than placing the spot light on himself.

Murphy’s war hero status led him to Hollywood at the invitation of James Cagney.  He starred in several Western B movies and was a mediocre actor until he starred in John Houston’s Red Badge of Courage and when in 1955 he played himself in To Hell and Back.  This movie grossed ten million dollars in its first release, the highest box office grossing movie eventually topped only  by the movie, Jaws by Steven Spielberg in 1975.  Murphy was also a song writer and poet.

This war hero was plagued by the emotional ravages of war.  Like many soldiers returning from combat, adjusting to life in the civilian world was not easy.  Murphy was insomniac and beset by nightmares of scenes of war. He was hypervigilant and was said to sleep with a pistol under his pillow.  He became addicted to the sleeping pill, Placidyl.  When he realized this, he locked himself in a hotel room for days until he kicked the habit. At the time, little was known about post-traumatic stress disorder which was then called “battle fatigue.” Understanding his own experience, Murphy lobbied tirelessly for the better treatment of Vietnam veterans who came home to insensitive often disrespectful countrymen.

It is sad that Audie Murphy is no longer in our collective memory.  He fought for the freedom of Europe and the mandate of his country, doing his duty without question.  He is the American soldier.  He is buried at Arlington National Cemetery, as he wished, in a no frills grave indistinguishable from other fallen soldiers. 

Arlington National Cemetery

 As a young girl, I was infatuated with his good looks and movie star status. As an old woman, I understand now why I loved him and I am grateful.

First published in Qondio

The Warrior Ethos/ The Warrior Creed

I am an American soldier.
I am a warrior and a member of a team.
I serve the people of the United States and live the Army values.
       I will always place the mission first.
       I will never accept defeat.
       I will never quit.
       I will never leave a fallen comrade.
I am disciplined physically and mentally tough, trained and proficient in my warrior tasks and drills.
I always maintain my arms, my equipment and myself.
I am an expert and a professional.
I am an American soldier.

Kidney Walk: Walking for Felix

The National Kidney Foundation- Kansas City holds its annual kidney walk in October every year.  My husband, Felix, died of kidney failure last year and my family and I joined the kidney walk last year and again this year.  This event is a fundraiser meant to bring awareness to the early detection and prevention of kidney disease and to promote organ donation. There are some 100 centers across the United States holding kidney walks.

This year’s walk was held at the University of Missouri-Kansas City campus.  It started out as a cool day which gradually got too warm.  The UMKC campus with its hilly terrain was perfect for the walk ,giving everyone a good work-out.  Teams of walkers fall into different groups, those who walk in memory of a loved one, those who are kidney disease sufferers and transplant recipients, and those who care for these patients. There were more walkers this year and there was entertainment for all from music and dancing to hot dogs and chips to face painting for the children.  The kidney walk is a celebration of life.

Felix developed end stage renal disease, (known as ESRD, a condition where kidney function falls to 10% or less) due to diabetes complications, one of the most common causes of kidney disease.  Other causes include high blood pressure, birth defects such as polycystic kidney, auto-immune disease such as lupus erythematosus, kidney infections, glomerulonephritis, injury or trauma, drugs and toxic substances, and other kidney disease.  Stubborn man that Felix was, he ignored symptoms, doctor’s advice and family’s (of which there are six physicians and four nurses)pleas to get his diabetes under control until it was too late.  Twenty six million Americans suffer from chronic kidney disease. More are at risk.

Once ESRD sets in, the patient must undergo kidney dialysis three times a week in a dialysis center or daily in their home otherwise, he dies because the body cannot get rid of toxins and excess fluids.  One of 355.000 Americans  who rely on dialysis for their life, Felix underwent dialysis for seven years.  When I was a medical student in the Philippines in the 60’s, all we had available was peritoneal dialysis (dialysis done through the lining of the abdomen) with its constant risk of infection called peritonitis.  Technology has so improved that this risk is much lower for those who opt for peritoneal dialysis and those who have hemodialysis (exchange of fluids through a fistula on the arm where a vein and an artery are connected and rerouted) can even do it themselves.  The whole process still takes about 4 hours each time.  Felix used to call it his second job because he went to dialysis after work.  Dialysis allows the person with ESRD to live as normal a life as possible such as having a full time job or homemaking.  There are reciprocal dialysis centers in the US and all around the globe allowing the individual to travel for work or pleasure.  When our extended family went on an Alaskan cruise one year, we chose a sailing that had dialysis on board.  The staff of these dialysis centers is exceptionally committed and treats their patients like family.  I am very grateful for how they prolonged my husband’s life.

Felix got a kidney transplant towards the end of his life.  Some 104,000 Americans are still waiting for a kidney transplant.  One day, while recuperating from his transplant surgery, we watched a documentary about people waiting on a kidney transplant. I recall seeing my husband, a grown stoic man, weep for the staggering numbers of people waiting and the realization of the enormity of the gift he had been given.

And so our family will walk next year again.  We will walk for Felix and for the many people with ESRD waiting for a second chance.

Seen on the back of a Tee shirt of one of the team walkers:

What Kidney Disease Cannot Do

It cannot cripple love.

It cannot shatter hope.

It cannot corrode faith.

It cannot destroy peace.

It cannot kill friendship.

It cannot suppress memories.

It cannot invade the soul.

It cannot steal eternal life.

It cannot conquer the spirit.

Team Quiason

Sign the organ donation line on your driver's license. "Heaven knows your organs are better needed on earth."

This article first posted on Qondio:

A Weekend in St. Louis, Dinner at Nora's

In our family, September is a month of many  birthday celebrations.  Nephews Brian, Michael and Jacob turned 21 this year.  Niece Rachel turned 18, daughter Emilie is 40 something, Vic is getting older, and Jonas is a senior citizen.  This year, instead of the usual potluck, I had the bright idea of the family driving to St. Louis, Missouri  and celebrating September birthdays with dinner at Nora’s. Everyone took me up on it. Daughter, Melissa and family even flew in from Seattle. It turned out to be a fun weekend.

Stock photo from Up in the Air, Cheshire Lodge in background

I reserved rooms at the Cheshire Lodge, an old world themed hotel. (It is featured in the George Clooney movie Up in the Air.) It is old but charming with authentic hundred year old furnishings from olde England. The rooms need updating but the rent was right and the staff friendly.  It is a couple of blocks away from Forest Park so the exercise aficionados in the family had a scenic place to jog early in the morning.  The hotel had a sumptuous continental breakfast spread.  Embarrassing to say but the family just about occupied the whole lobby each morning. (In our defense, it was not a very big lobby.) The young and not so young occupied a good portion of the hotel's Fox and Hound Bar at night as well. The older of the group stayed up till closing, striking up conversations with the bar maid, also named Nora, and other hotel guests while the young adults decided they needed sleep more than conversation and drinks  and gave up early, party poopers that they were.

Saturday was spent at the St. Louis Zoo.  We all went, young kids, teens, young and old adults and senior citizens.  It was the weekend of the hot air balloon race and I picked the weekend for that purpose.  Alas, there were not very many balloons to be seen.  I did not see any but Vic had pictures to show it was, indeed, the right weekend.

Dinner at Nora’s was on Saturday night.  Nora’s is my son, Robert’s brainchild.  It is a deli at 1136 Tamm Ave in the Dogtown district of  St. Louis, Missouri.  It is two doors down from a restaurant named Felix’s.  Rob closed shop early to make room for Quiason family and friends birthday party.  For appetizer, Lola Pulido from Seattle brought her special, you can’t eat just one, chicharones (pork rinds.) You could feel the cholesterol settling in your arteries. It was that good. The entrees were smoked ribs and beef tenderloin.  The smoked ribs was meat falling off the bone tender, tasty, not too salty and seasoned so well  that adding barbecue sauce would have been a crime.  The beef tenderloin was cooked just right for every family member’s preference from rare, medium rare and well done.  The best part of the evening, of course, was again, just conversation.  Our family never seems to tire of this no matter how often we see each other.  There are so many of us that there is always something new  to talk about.  Most of the time, however, we reminisce about the same old things over and over and smile and laugh like we were hearing it for the first time. 

Rob, owner, proprietor and cook of Nora’s, is my youngest son.  He has successfully defied the family stereotype (and expectation ) of being some kind of professional with a home in the suburbs, one or two cars, a wonderful spouse, and one to three children. He beats to the drummer within and insists on being his own person.  Until he had Nora’s, he owned nothing and owed no one.  He did not own a car unless it was a hand me down from parent or uncles.  He walked, took the bus or begged rides from friends.  He does not own a house.  Like me, he shops at thrift stores.  It takes very little to make him happy.  He loves good food and good wine.  He loves us.  He knows no stranger and his friends love him. His friends brag about him, and when I hear how good a person he is, my heart swells. After all, my one wish for my children is that they become good kind people and they are.  Anything beyond is just gravy.  Our family does not really know Rob. We heard that he is an Elvis impersonator and he sometimes plays with a band, but no one in our family has heard him sing.  At family gatherings, he shares very little of himself and stays mysterious. He gives glimpses of himself like bringing gourmet appetizers and introducing us to good inexpensive wine. Aunts and uncles still give him money for Christmas forgetting that he is no longer one of the unemployed college kids.

I am glad we had September birthdays in St. Louis, had the family see Rob in his own element and know how good he is at what he does.  The food business is most difficult and unforgiving.  Rob is still very poor.  He works long tiring hours,  but he is doing what he loves. Nora’s is getting good reviews and I have no doubt that in time, it will be a thriving business. Who knows, one of these days, there could be a Nora's near you.  I envy Rob the simplicity of his take on life.  I am trying to be more and more like him.

Nora's                                                                             

1136 Tamm Ave
St. Louis, MO 63139
Neighborhood: Dogtown

(314) 645-2706

www.norasindogtown.com/

A Year of Living Alone

My husband, Felix, died a year ago today.  Losing someone I had awakened with day after day for 43 years was a life changing event.  But for the love and support of my family, immediate, extended, adopted, in my work places and around the globe, the loss  would have been too much to bear.  You all know who you are and I thank you profoundly. I am truly blessed.

                                                        Immediate family a year ago

Time flies, indeed.  Felix used to say I should travel when he was no longer around.  He, of course, loved travel. In our younger days, we took the kids across America and Canada in our apple green Volkswagen camp mobile.  After years of faithful service and neglect, an eye sore on our driveway, I sold it for $300.00 and he never forgave me for it.  Never mind that the muffler could be heard miles away or that it stalled on the railroad tracks with my brother-in-law, Vic and my son, Robert in it. But that was Felix.  He could never part with anything. 

So, my first mission was to declutter my house, filled with coolers (He loved coolers and had maybe fifty of them.) extension cords, refrigerators, electronic components, laser disc player, betamax (remember those?)  I have filled and sent  Balikbayan boxes (cargo boxes that go to the Philippines) and have more to fill. It has not made a dent in my garage and basement.  It may take the rest of my life.

Next, I fixed the house.  It started with badly needed roof repairs, then new windows to replace rotted old ones, and hey, since I was on a spending roll now, why not the kitchen and the floors and so on.  I have transformed our house into my house.  It is all right. “ Do anything you want when I’m gone.” He said. And I have.  I had the kitchen cabinets painted chocolate brown and put funky glass tiles on the back splash.  My brother-in-law, Vic , (a dentist) and his electrician friend spent two 10 hour days setting up a classy TV and audio system, on top of the fireplace and in my bathroom that even Best Buy would envy.  Interesting, since I watch TV once or twice a week if at all. ( It must have been a Felix kind of thing.)

Youth

Parents

I have changed jobs, a not so easy move since my work family had been a steady rock of support through the years of Felix’ illness.  I miss them.  The new me decided to serve soldiers.  It turned out to be no sacrifice whatsoever because the pay is good (the work- tiring 10 hour days) and the soldiers are just wonderful to work with.  I will not stay in one place for long.  There are US military bases all over the world and I plan to work in as many of them as life permits.  That is how I hope to travel.  Of course, there are the weekend trips here and there.  My children, Emilie, Melissa and Rob are getting used to getting an email telling them where I will be, for how long, so they know when to get worried.

I am taking classes,too.  I took an HTML class to try to become worldwide web literate.  I am pursuing a dream of becoming a yogi so I am enrolled in that, too.  If I am deserving, I will eventually become a swami and you can call me by my swami  name.  I might even grow my hair long and wear flowing robes, you never know. “Warning: When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple…” Google it.

Couples who have lived together long eventually have an intuitive relationship with each other, like having the bad habit of finishing each other’s sentences or the bane of therapist’s existence, speaking for each other.  I have continued to do that with Felix.  I intuit and give him jobs like looking for lost objects and checking out decisions I am about to make.  He has not failed me yet.  We never really lose anyone.  We simply relate on a different plane.

Last year, my sons in law threatened to have a custody fight over me.  I saved them from themselves by choosing to live alone.  Dan, Alex, having the mother-in –law for a week is way different from living with her every day, getting underfoot and embarrassing you in front of your friends.  I love you but trust me on this and thank me later.

Grandparents

So it seems that I have moved on and in many ways, I have.  But I do still have those days of overwhelming sadness for not being around the physical person that Felix was.  I know now that those days  will never go away.   I am glad I live alone because I can weep like a mad woman and not worry about inflicting my pain on those I love.

More grandchildren

This year, I have learned a most important lesson.  It is about loving.  For as long as I am a lover who loves for the joy of loving someone and not because I need to be loved back, love can endure forever, transcending time and space.  Love multiples.   I can keep loving everyone I have ever loved and still have room for those I have yet to meet, because there is an endless supply where it comes from.

Duty First

The soldier at the gate of the army base I work in, hands me back my driver's license and says, "Have a good day, Ma'am, Duty First." It is the same every morning and it makes me smile.


When my husband, Felix, passed away last year, he left me the gift of time to pursue whatever I wanted. "Go to Europe, he said, or wherever your heart takes you." I thought of going with Doctors without Borders but I didn't think there was much demand for a psychiatrist there. Instead, I took a contract job in an army hospital out-patient service as a way of giving back. It has been a most enriching experience.

Unlike the 60's when military service was a mandated luck of the draw, today's US army (and armed forces) are served by young men and women who voluntarily raised their hand in oath to protect the country and the US Constitution. They go through rigorous training. They go where they are told to go. It is duty first.

Soldiers are held to a higher standard embodied in the seven core values ingrained in soldier training.
• Loyalty: Bear true faith and allegiance to the US Constitution, the Army, your unit and other soldiers.
• Duty: Fulfill your obligations.
• Respect: Treat people as they should be treated.
• Selfless service: Put the welfare of the Nation, the Army, and your subordinates before your own.
• Honor: Live up to Army values.
• Integrity: Do what's right legally and morally.
• Personal courage: Face fear, danger or adversity (physical or moral.)

This I see every day.

Soldiers come from all walks of life, from all 50 states, its territories and from different nations. They are young people, some are emancipated 17 year olds. They have differing reasons for enlisting most common of all is to serve the nation. The majority enlist because being a soldier has always been their dream. Some enlist because they have seen 911 and watched the war on TV and felt that it was their duty. Many come from generations of soldiers who have sacrificed family members to death and disability. Some left successful careers or businesses to be of service to the country. Some enlist because they lost their jobs. A single mother of three children enlisted because it was the only way she could get insurance for her sick child. Some come with express hopes of building character. A few come because they have nowhere else to go.

Regardless of the reason for joining, all are expected to live by the core army values. The day starts at six for physical training formation before they go to their job assignments. Soldiers must be physically and mentally fit, ready and able to adapt to diverse and changing conditions. They train in adverse conditions, in the Mojave desert of California, the swamps of Louisiana, the mountains of Colorado and the winters of Alaska. Soldiers can be discharged for not maintaining ideal weight. They are expected to be financially responsible, take care of their families, and obey the law. Everyone obeys the speed limit in the fort. A DUI will cost a soldier his rank and a second one a discharge.

All occupations are represented in the armed forces, doctors, lawyers, mechanics, cooks, aviators, engineers, custodians, computer techs, infantrymen and some duties no one should ever have to do like cleaning blown up vehicles where a soldier lost life or limb.

Unlike previous times, today's soldier expects to spend 12 to 15 months in deployment to the war zone, come home for a year and go back again for another year. Many are training for their third and fourth deployment. They expect this. It is duty first. Many lament not seeing a child born, not being able to attend a family member's funeral, or be present for a spouse's surgery. It is duty first. Couples assigned to different brigades could deploy at different times and live together maybe three months in two years. Single parents face the heartache of leaving their children to grandparents and relatives during these times.

I am awed by the service of these young men and women, professionals in their duty embodied in the words of a soldier who said, "Ma'am, I've been bombed, I've been ambushed, and I've been hurt, but I have never ever fired my weapon in anger." This, of course, is the true warrior, the samurai.

We take them for granted, these protectors and first responders. They fight the war, patrol our coastlines and national borders, protect our skies and our seas, patrol our streets, and go into burning buildings. They go to their jobs everyday because it is duty first. They put themselves in harm's way so we can sleep well at night while they remain in the periphery of our consciousness, if at all.

I came with the intention of serving. The people I came to serve, instead, teach me about our world, life, responsibility and duty first. I am the better for it and I am humbled and grateful. How is it, I ask, that I can give so little and still receive so much?