If I die

Painting of the old hospital

Merry Christmas, y'all!  Not exactly the opening line you would expect with the title of this post, eh? But don't bail on me. Have some patience.

During the three work days following Christmas this year, I am working remotely virtually way-off-campus.

Generally, I spend this time in Albert Lea because my bestest friend is in town from Atlanta. But I'm a bit low on PTO, so I figured I would work during the day and hang with her and her family in the evening.  And to save the planet (and my budget), I asked permission to work from Albert Lea.

As fate would have it, Mayo Clinic Health System in Albert Lea has the Mayo employee wifi, so instead of the endless frustration of trying to work on a VPN connection, I am taking advantage of the hospitality of the MCHS Public Affair staff and working from their offices.

The offices are located in the old Naeve Hospital building, a historically significant site as it is my birthplace. I was a patient here once when I was about 3 or 4, but other than that, I really don't have any memories of this place. The new hospital was built when I was a teen and even that hospital has changed substantially.

I remember hearing that most people die within 100 miles of where they were born. Maybe that's no longer true, but I've been thinking about it as I'm working here today. If I were to die here at the office (which would be a bummer), I would be dying, most likely, within 100 FEET of where I was born.

I know, I know, I'm a geek for thinking of stuff like that, but I gotta be me.

Crushed Fantasy

I have been using anti-aging creams since I was in college. They didn't work. I still aged. Albeit with softer skin, but I still turned 50 ... um ... 52.

Getting older is the best thing because if you're not getting older you're either dead or a vampire, which I guess, technically, is dead, too, but they have better housing options.

If you look closely at my hair, you'll find a few gray ones popping out occasionally. Depends on how long it has been since my last trip to the hair color aisle at Target. I've had brief thoughts of just letting the gray come out and not fussing about it, just to see how gray I would get. Did I mention they were brief?

I'll admit that I smile whenever a high school classmate tells me how I look the same as I did when we were in high school (sans the Farrah hair). When a classmate doesn't recognize me, I usually write it off to their poor memory.

This week, I've had to give up my non-aging fantasy as the one, hard truth of aging was staring me in the face. Specifically, they were "on" my face.

I had to get my first pair of glasses with bifocals. In the spirit of full disclosure, I could have had bifocals for the last ten years, but I found ways to cheat. Regrettably, my ability to cheat finally came to an end as I determined wearing two pairs of glasses at the same time is just plain weird.

The new glasses have the progressive lenses, which isn't just one distance or the other. Different parts of the lens give you long, mid and close-up vision. It just take awhile to figure out where that part of the lens exists.

Until then, I will resemble a bobblehead as I continually adjust the position of my head to find that visionary sweetspot.

The consequences of failing to act

Last week, I learned about the premature passing of a high school friend. He died of a massive heart attack at age 53. And he may not have to died, if someone had taken action.

He was walking into his place of employment at the beginning of a work day with his cohorts. He passed out, but quickly came to, asking, "What happened?" And then he was gone. No pulse.

Those around him, surely in shock, called 911 and went to find someone who knew CPR. The people around him didn't know CPR.

They estimated it was four to six minutes before CPR was started. Four to six minutes of no blood or oxygen going to his brain.

In full disclosure, I've never been trained in CPR. But I have watched lots and lots of TV shows where it is being performed. If someone collapsed in front of me and had no pulse, I would have faked it and started compressions. At least until someone qualified came along.

We don't know if he would have survived if someone had tried CPR immediately. But I would guess, the odds would have been considerably better.

I wonder if his co-workers realize the consequences of their failure to act. I hope his employer is planning to have all their employees trained on CPR. For his sister and his brother and his mom, I really hope they do.

Everything I know about music I learned from figure skating

"Oh, that's right. You're not really into music."

Pardon me??

Me? Former music major. Been singing and playing instruments for most of my life. I'm not really into music?

When a co-worker said that to me, I was a bit dumbfounded. I took a breath and realized that "Yes, I'm a music person, but I guess I'm just not into the same type of music you are."

Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that music has always been a huge part of my life. I just don't have a wide range of music genres on my playlist. I like classic rock, but I couldn't tell you which band goes with which song. I'm not really into country music (except for a brief phase in the mid 1980s) and, since owning an iPod, I don't listen to Top 40 radio anymore.

Now, if you want to talk about classical music, broadway musicals or movie soundtracks, I'm ready for ya. And there's a simple reason for that. It's called figure skating. For many years, music with lyrics weren't allowed in skating competitions, so that basically limited your choices to classical music or movie soundtracks.

My main point of reference for a piece of music isn't which opera its from or what movement it is. My reference point is "who skated to it?" Bolero? Torvill and Dean 1984 Olympics. Moonlight Sonata? Gordeeva and Grinkov -1994 Olympics. Afternoon of a  faun? Janet Lynn 1973. Bizet's Carmen? 1988 Olympics - choice of Katrina Witt or Debbi Thomas.

But it's not just the elite skaters' music. There are also several pieces that I know because they are used over and over and over again. (Really, I wish some coaches would reach out beyond their stash of albums and look for new pieces) Overused pieces include: Forest Gump soundtrack, Adaigo of Spartacus and Phrygia, Adagio from Concierto de Aranjuez (otherwise known as that "spanish piece"), and the Pirates of the Caribean soundtrack.

I discovered "everything I know about music I learned from figure skating" while at a dinner party at a friend's house. The hostess loved opera and she had Puccini's Turandot playing and the aria "Nessun dorma" started playing. My ears perked up immediately.

One of the other guests asked about the song and what it was about. Leslie, the hostess started to tell the story, but I was already in my own zone. The song was building up to a crescendo and I blurted out, "This is my favorite part!" Leslie looked at me, a bit amazed that I knew the song so well, but before she could say anything, I added, "This is where Boitano goes into the most amazing death drop. The height was unbelievable."

The rest of the guests and Leslie were silent and just sort of stared at me. "What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Oh, um... I guess I know this song because Brian Boitano skated to it for a couple of seasons."

I think that was my last dinner party at Leslie's. I'm sure it's not that I wasn't invited again, I just wasn't able to attend because I was most likely traveling for a skating competition.

A favorite story

One of the true perks of my job is being able to tell great stories about patients who find their answers at Mayo Clinic. This past spring, I joined the writing team for a fun Mayo publication called, "In The Loop." It's only internal (which is too bad because the stories are uplifting, funny, inspirational and down right cool), so the circulation is pretty limited. The unique part of "In The Loop," is that we're just sharing stories that have published elsewhere (with full credit and links to the original story). 

Last month, I got a great assignment to share the story of an Iowa couple, their son Aidan and his twin sister, the little warrior, Princess Ava. Ava was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome and her story (as well as that of the family) is remarkable. I'm including my story on the original story below (Thanks, too, to chief ITL editor, Hoyt, for all of his tweaks to my copy).

The article really touched the hearts of our employees and became one of the most widely read and commented stories on the "In The Loop" blog. I'm gosh darn proud of that fact, but I have to fess up that part of the reason people were drawn into the story was because this photo (below) was on our intranet home page. Who would NOT be taken in by these two sweet faces? 

Photo courtesy of Christina DeShaw

Thanks to Ava and Aidan's parents, Brad and Christina, for allowing us to share their story. And thanks to Ava and Aidan for being so gosh darn cute. 

Princess Ava of Des Moines

Earlier this month, Brad Weitl and Christina DeShaw of Clive, Iowa, brought their twins, Ava and Aidan, home for the first time. It's a traditional rite of parenthood. But for this family, it was a long time coming.

As a story by Iowa Public Radio tells us, the couple learned last January, at 18 weeks of pregnancy, that one of their twins had hypoplastic left heart syndrome, a condition that causes the left side of the heart to be severely underdeveloped. That was Ava's heart. Aidan's was just fine.

After the diagnosis, DeShaw spent time learning about the condition. "In doing the research," she says, "I knew we had to find her the best possible care." She and Weitl contacted Ben Eidem, M.D., a Mayo Clinic pediatric cardiologist, who helped explain the complexity of surgeries that lay ahead of them. He also explained that in some cases of hypoplastic left heart syndrome, doctors can intervene before birth, but that it's not an option with twins. After "several consultations at a number of facilities," DeShaw and Weitl decided to have their twins delivered by C-section at Mayo Clinic.

A small army of staff ("probably 30 to 40 people") was ready to go on delivery day, including a surgical team led by pediatric cardiovascular surgeon Harold Burkhart, M.D. According to DeShaw's's blog, Ava Grace, Life with an Extraordinary Heart, the surgeons "began the full Norwood surgery on her within two hours of her birth, because her tissue was too thick for a cath procedure." It's a rare surgery, and one that "most children would not survive," says Dr. Burkhart. "So it worked out well," he (under)stated.

Christina DeShaw and Brad Weitl with Aidan and Ava. (Photos courtesy of Christina DeShaw.)

Although Ava's surgery was successful, the days to come would still include an array of monitors and medications. During her four months in the Neonatal ICU, brother Aidan was a regular visitor. And it was clear he had a special relationship with his sister. Weitl told Iowa Public Radio that Aidan would "go in there, and he'd skootch over and get his head against hers, or put his hand on her hand, or on her face. It was really unbelievable."

DeShaw expressed her gratitude for Ava's caregivers on her blog, writing, "We absolutely love the medical teams caring for our little girl. Not only are they extremely skilled in what they do, but they are also very compassionate, which has given us great comfort." That admiration was apparently mutual. We're told that during Ava's stay, one of her nurses nicknamed her "Princess Ava of Des Moines."

Bullying by any other name

During the past two weeks, my colleagues and I have been sharing content about childhood bullying, in advance of the new school year. Our external team created two videos on bullying, a radio show conversation about bullying and providing experts. On the internal side, we shared information from interviews we did with several of our experts who talked about what bullying is and how to help our kids.

I wrote the story and it was a struggle to get the story pared down to under 500 words. My first draft was 2700 words! There was just so much content and so many dimensions to the story. Frankly, I wasn't sure I was qualified to make the judgement of what was valuable and what wasn't.

We posted the story on our intranet news center on Friday, August 24, and it got lots of traffic (over 10K views) and lots of comments, some positive and some a little sad as they talked about what their children have gone through.
 
But then the comments turned to adults bullying each other and bullying in the workplace. One person commented that she was disappointed in how HR handled her complaint about being bullied. Others joined in about their experiences being bullied in the workplace.

As the conversations talked about the increase in bullying, both for children and adults, and how those in authority weren't doing enough, it really got me thinking. Is there really an increase in bullying? Or does any behavior that tilts even slightly negative get labeled as bullying? Bullying lacks a true definition and many people define it as "whatever happens to them."

This is just my opinion (and I know that I'm opening up a can of worms), but I think part of the reason why it's difficult to get "those in authority" to act, is that so many people have made "mean people" and "jerks" into bullies and, with so many people crying "Wolf!", who do they believe?  

There is legitimate bullying happening, but more often than not, I think people over-react, and instead of looking within themselves and questioning their response to a situation, they find it easier to label the other person as a bully.

There are the "snowplow parents" who insist on clearing the way for their children, so much so that these kids don't learn the skills they will need in the real world. They're not learning problem solving skills because they never have to resolve a problem. Mom and/or Dad take care of it for them, sometimes without even involving the kid.

I was teased as a child for being overweight, for having braces, for staying back a grade. Teasing is not bullying. I let it get to me because I had self-esteem issues. It changed for when I got a thicker skin and learned to believe in myself, when I realized that the people who teased or mocked me didn't know me. These people didn't matter. 

I remember my dad telling me that the people who tease you are looking for your reaction - figuring out what button to push. And the moment you give them the victim reaction, it only encourages them. 

Perhaps we just need to be nicer to each other. Perhaps we should realize that some of the people who get labeled as bullies are insecure people who lack decent communication skills. And while we may not be able to change their behavior, we can change our response and see them as sad, small people and find a way to deal with their actions by finding our inner strength.