When death brings perspective...

It usually happens at a funeral.

Loved ones alternate weepy speeches at a podium, telling funny stories about the deceased. The event is so bittersweet – you meet people you’ve only heard about, hug others you haven’t seen since your teens, you remember only the good memories, yet, someone’s life is gone. Someone who you’ll never see again.

But, between the sobbing and hugging, something magical happens. Someone somewhere amidst the crowd ultimately develops a certain perspective – life’s too short… I need to do more with my life… she always wanted me to become a lawyer… and that person's life is forever changed. Sometimes it’s announced publicly and sometimes, in the quiet moments, it’s our personal way of making sure that that person’s life matters. We pledge, we vow, to be better than we were yesterday.

My most recent perspective was not literally at a funeral, but did come as a result of losing a few patients this month.

The most notable was a woman in her 50s awaiting a liver transplant – the only true treatment that could save her life. When she came to the intensive care unit, we knew she was on the brink. But, I thought I could fix her – at least long enough to get the transplant. When I heard that her family had decided we shouldn’t go further, I was hurt. I felt like somehow I had let her down. That the promise I made to her that we’d take good care of her was somehow broken. After watching her last days and seeing how at peace her family was over the decision, I knew that we had all done the right thing. But, I couldn’t help but feel defeated.

It’s interesting, because what weighs on me the most about that narrow line between life and death upon which medicine sits is not the medical knowledge or the blood and guts, it’s the emotion. It’s the constant realization of how strangely human my patients are, and how at any moment, she could be me, or I could be her, and her husband could be my husband and her kids could be my kids weeping over my failing body. And it makes me think – have I, or do I, live a life that would ensure people coming to my aid? Can I love the way I need to in my late 20s to ensure that a husband will be sitting at my bedside, holding my hand, telling some new young doctor stories of how we met 40 years ago? Can I be the type of mother to my son that will allow him to say to an older, senior doctor, “That’s my mom, I won’t ever leave her side after all she’s done for me.” Will I have dozens of people visiting me daily? I guess I will never know until that moment comes. I might be sedated or loony by that point, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately.

In the back of our minds, we always know that family, friends and other loved ones should be the most important factors in our lives. But, this week, examples like my transplant patient keep replaying in my mind. And I have been reminded that in the end, your coworkers may bring you flowers, and send catered food to your family’s home. They may even say wonderful things about you over your open casket. But, the people who will be there, holding your hand when you have tubes coming from every end, dressed in a hospital-issued gown, without a nail salon or hairdresser in sight will be the loved ones whose lives you’ve touched. The ones who truly love you. The people you weren’t too busy to talk to. Those who you were genuine with. Those you tried to help.

So as busy as we are, try and remember to have perspective. Prioritize appropriately. And love deep.

In true keeping with most deaths, my dear patient has given me (yet again) the gift of perspective. And I thank her.

Dr. Ty
From the GAL Blog
www.getalifecampaign.com

Has Sex And The City Misled Us?

While some of the romantic escapades of our favorite Manhattan socialites on Sex & The City led to next-day conversations of, “I can’t believe that would ever happen in real life,” those escapades were actually nothing compared to the unrealistic model of friendship that SATC left many of us longing for.

Every week (or maybe it was every day in their world), we saw Samantha, Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte meeting for coffee, shopping together, or having a girls’ night out. They never missed a beat. They were usually always a phone call away. And, they were there for each other during the hardest times (Charlotte’s infertility, Samantha’s breast cancer, Miranda’s pregnancy, and Carrie’s heartbreaks).

Last night, as I got my weekly dose of the real SATC – not the chopped-up versions riddled with commercials on network TV – on onDemand, I couldn’t help but think (in true Carrie form):

Has SATC implanted unrealistic ideals of friendship into our heads?

Will we ever fit the bill?

Let’s think about this logically. At one point in time, the SATC gals all had full-time jobs – a news columnist, a lawyer, a publicist, and an art connoisseur. Enter one baby, two marriages, lots of relationships, and tons of sex. How on earth did they do it?

I get to see my closest friends on average once every other month, and talk to them once every two weeks. Granted, I work 80 hours a week, have a toddler to contend with and I live 90 minutes away from my closest long-term friend. But, still. Recently, I have found myself longing lately for a nice rectangle of friends who I can spend regular time with – without the extra drama, without the fluff, and with the undeniable support.

Our favorite SATC gals were so cosmopolitan and independent, yet despite being flawed 85% of the time, they had each other’s back. Even when they fought, they came back. And when someone missed a “lunch,” she was held accountable. Am I being unrealistic?

I can hear the outcry from mommy gals all over the world with every keystroke, “Honey, you gave that up with motherhood.” My career gals are giving me figurative arm pats, “It’s the price you pay for success, my dear.” And last but not least, the single, sophisticated gals who are balking, “Why on earth would you want to see the same three people every day?” Okay, I’m just picking fun. But seriously, I’d like to know: Are there women out there who have such quartets? If not, am I crazy for desiring one?

Sigh: In the meantime, I have my onDemand, and I can daydream that I’m the fifth man benchwarmer for the SATC quartet.

I’ll be onDemanding until you all respond (Don't forget to catch the SATC movie coming out May 2008!).

Dr. Ty

www.getalifecampaign.com

'Twas The Season For Breakups...

December usually evokes images of fat white men in beards, dancing reindeer, floppy iridescent bows, holiday office parties, and those infamous Grab Bags. February, on the other hand, takes whatever red garnish is leftover from Christmas and dons it with hearts of varying sizes, while cupid injects daydreams of falling in love into our Holiday-fattened rear ends.

However, judging from my epic long conversations with girlfriends, and them with their girlfriends and them with their girlfriends, an odd phenomenon is taking place that leads me to one conclusion… ‘twas actually the season of breaking up.

Maybe we failed to read the snugglebunny manual which explicitly states you should only run loose in the world during temperatures of more than 65 degrees Fahrenheit. By the time the colder months hit (read: less than 50 degrees), your position as someone’s snugglebunny should already be secured, as not to spend cold nights alone. Maybe that memo ended up in our Spam folders.

So, in true GAL fashion, I’m here to bring the first installment of the GAL guide to weathering breakups (yet still maintaining who you are):


Give yourself time to mourn

It’s too easy to fall on one end or the other of extremes: either shrivel up into a corner and become the Kleenex spokeswoman, or jam-pack your schedule such that you barely have time to think about you-know-who. Instead, try the middle ground. Dedicate a specific time for mourning or obsession (one week, every day after 4pm, or while driving home from work). Think as much as you want about him/her, write in your journal, drink wine, vent to your friends, or throw darts at your ex’s mugshot, whatever makes you happy. Then, go on with life. Don’t daydream about it all day, misting up in meetings, taking personal calls at work, blowing up at the mailman. At the end of it all, you want a life that you are proud of. Don’t screw up what you have left of your life pining over someone who’s gone.


Remember who you were

This topic never goes away in GAL-land. Anyone who has dated someone for more than three weeks knows how the process of falling in love, the time it demands and simply how good it feels manages to take us away from reality. Sometimes, we find our way back and sometimes, everything we do is colored by our relationships. If our cutiepie compliments us or we have a weekend rendezvous, then the annoying chick at work doesn’t seem so annoying. Yet, let our cutiepie stand us up or pick a fight, then the whole world comes to an end. As much as we embark on relationships in order to share our lives with someone else – to have a definite date to any function, a consistent sex partner, someone to confide in – at the root of it all, you were and are your own person. It may just take time to find her again.


Fake it ‘til you feel it.

I would be a complete liar if I sat here and typed to you that if the love of your life – or even the jerkface of your life – walked out of the door tomorrow that you’d be unscathed and ready to pick up and keep rolling like the rock-hard stone you are. It will hurt. It will burn. That empty, lonely pit in your stomach will be there. You will be reminded of it every time someone asks how your ex is or what your plans are for xyz holiday, or every Friday when you drive by you guys’ favorite spot. But, in order to make it, sometimes you have to fake it. Make an effort to find joy in the things that are left. If someone at work makes a joke, don’t be a sourpuss, laugh. Stop hitting ignore when your friends or family call. Accept an invitation for drinks from your co-workers and pretend like you’re having a blast. There is a time and a place for everything. And if you make every other part of your life miserable and pitiful with your sulking, you will have no refuge. And truthfully, after a while, the chemicals released during your laughter and smiling may actually be enough to start helping you over the hump.


Be sparing with family and friends

You have your own feelings to deal with. Do you really want to deal with your sobbing aunt who loved your sweetheart to death? Or your mom who is devastated that you ruined her chances to be a grandma? Deal with how you feel about the issue first, even if that means avoiding (or down right bending) the truth. Here’s my philosophy: You will not want to think about the breakup every single day of your life, and there will come a day that you feel fabulous (I know you don’t believe me right now). And if everyone knows what’s going on, someone will undoubtedly hit you with the infamous poor-baby question, “How are you holding up, girl?” on a day when you feel wonderful, and instantly, your good day is gone, your thoughts are getting the better of you, and you’re trapped in the misery again.

That's enough for now.

Next time, we’ll talk about how not to be a stalker (or look like one); the dilemma when kids are involved; moving on to the next relationship (too soon or not enough time?); and more coping skills.

I'd love to hear what you think!

Dr. Ty
Visit www.getalifecampaign.com for more tips and a copy of "The Get A Life Campaign!"