Marriage

I step outside of my series on August to draw your attention to a piece on gay marriage that I encourage every one to read. It has been brought to my attention by "sticky stuff stew." it cuts a bit close to home and is too well written for me to want or need to say very much about it.

Except this: it was a year before the law in Massachusetts allowing gay marriage passed that Aramis and I found ourselves in the position of Bill and Mike in this story. Beth Israel never questioned my rights to direct Aramis's care. There was no searching for papers, only the full recognition of our commitment to one another and my place in his life. My own health problems have made Beth Israel a haven of safety for me, but even before, with Aramis, they had shown a human compassion and respect for relationships that, especially then but even now, was edifying.

Rain

Yes, I've been silent, really neglectful for 21 days, but have both excuses and explanations. The biggest excuse is that Dr. Funk and I positively wore ourselves out with Boston Early Music Festival performances. The smaller excuses are far less interesting and so I won't bore you with them. The Festival, by the way, was truly amazing.

And now we have all this rain, which is a current subject. I have an understanding of the world that probably comes from having nearly exited it: that there is amazing beauty in every day, regardless of the weather. Some time ago I set myself the objective of putting on paper the beauty that I find even on a cold and rainy day in March. I assure you that I see the beauty depicted in the photo above, but unfortunately my camera didn't. This image represents quite a struggle, which has been going on for some time now. At one point I thought I would have to declare a failure, but I had a specific reason to persevere.

This view is from the footbridge that leads over the Muddy River on the path from Beth Israel to the Longwood "T" stop, a route well travelled by me. It happens that the people at Beth Israel have requested some of my work for the walls of the Radiology department, a place with which I'm very familiar. One of the people I've been talking too about this has actually told me that these images have caused her to pay more attention while she's moving through the world, more attention to the beauty around her, and that has caused her to appreciate it more. I was very pleased about that! But a rainy march day?

Yes, a rainy march day, when the buds on the maple trees are just starting to create a red haze in the woods, and willows are pushing out their tiny catkins and the ground is glowing with the acid green of emerging grass and damp moss. Next March, on such a day, as you are hurrying on your, way look up and say to yourself "if I were never to see this again....."

Being the hearty Episcopalian that I've become I can't say much about what is and what isn't, about certainties and acting "As if" things were true, or certain, or able to be known; but I do feel that what ever the ultimate answer is, however a covenant may be kept or broken, that gratitude and appreciation will keep most of the celestial bases covered, and keep our own heart happy.

Which is another thing I find I share with the BI!

My Eye on the BI #3

It's odd to say this but in a way I am grateful for "Eye on the BI" for impelling me to say some things which for long I have been recognizing the need to myself, and have been feeling guilty that I haven't acted on that feeling.

This post encompasses a variety of subjects, Health Care Design, Institutional Compassion, a continuing statement of my personal gratitude to the Board who runs the BI, and finally a huge tip of the hat to all the support people, case workers, nurses, practice assistants, technicians, orderlies, the women in the labs- everyone at Health Care Associates- and also the people in the lobby, the parking people, greeters, the woman who plays the harp sometimes (this is the most gracefully healing thing I have ever seen in a health care environment) and finally I would like to include the staff at Super Salad.

I know from my own business experience that when you are dealing with the public you only hear about problems, almost never hear what is going right, I also know that, speaking as a consumer, this is wrong. On the personal hand this is wrong because expressing gratitude brings on us the blessing of re-enjoyment of the things we are grateful for, and on the more public hand, it offers direction and information to those who are trying to do the right thing. This is why I have felt guilty about my own reticence.

It was not through neglect that I left my doctors out of the list above. They are remarkable people, and will get their own praise in another entry, but they are supported by the non medical staff, and that staff is so often passed over that I want to make this expression of gratitude specific to everyone from my caseworker to the architect and designer who make my trips to the doctor so comforting.

After my comments on the building you will find that the narrative of this post also, even mainly concerns a group whose service I never need, but who I watch at their work constantly- the translators and the interpreters for the hearing impaired.

This past year has been very intense for 

me. I have been receiving Interferon treatments every week at the liver center. I can not deal with needles and would not have done this if the nurse there had not agreed to give me the shots in the office! I have had an average of  2 appointments per week plus tests, labs drawn, more tests, specialists etc, and here is a question: with these things which require an extremely high level of compliance, what might the compliance level of a patient be if in addition to the burdens of the treatment itself the patient had to deal with an unpleasant and unfriendly environment? (Did I include the staff in Radiology? wonderful people!)

I often say that I owe my life to my doctors, but my compliance level is very much a factor of the efforts of all these people.

The Shapiro Clinical Center is the single most successfully designed outpatient clinic I have ever experienced. I am speaking now as a designer. I have never worked directly in health care, but it was an import part of the curriculum in the deign classes I taught at Wentworth Institute, Of the qualification exam of NCIDQ and a great concern for the Board of the New England Chapter of ASID on which I sat. I recite this so you may know that these are not idyl comments. Beth Israel took the old Mass College of art building, preserving the facade and built a new, lofty and light filled structure within it. It is warm, inviting, feels more like a hotel than a hospital and is beautifully finished. The space flows smoothly, the waiting rooms are filled with light and air, and everything is close, convenient and efficient. I have had everything from surgery to xrays right in this very pleasant building, and it connects to the main hospital by bridge- oddly that bridge is where a very important turning point in my life occurred- another story for another time! As a professional designer and educator I had to be able to tell young professionals and students what the point of design actually is. The point of good design is to improve the well being and ability to function of those who use the space. It is a great ideal but seldom met. I would like to applaud Beth Israel for so successfully meeting that standard.

Here is my photograph of the en

trance of the building: 

I was there the other day, waiting to have labs drawn. I have a wonderful relationship with the woman in the central suite of Health Care Associates. For many years now I have been giving them more blood than I thought was possible, and this woman has been doing it the whole time- at times twice a month. I will wait for 40 minutes for her rather than go to the other lab because we have really wonderful conversations about our families and our spiritual concerns. She somehow manages to get the needle in and draw as many as 17 tubes while this is going on without my even noticing! She is a great blessing to this world, and the fact that she can do it while distracting this frantic needlephobe is an amazing gift to me!

I was waiting for her the other day, in the waiting room at Health Care Associates and watched this scene unfold. It was on the other side of the room and I could not hear the content of what was said, but had a very clear view of their faces and expressions, and I could tell that the tall blond woman was speaking Russian only. This is being played out in the bath of diffused light from the huge windows which shines through layers of frosted glass. Perhaps through sympathy, even empathy, I have become very sensitized to the emotional state of other patients, and the look of worry and strain on the Russian woman's face spoke of some very unpleasant situation unfolding. Whether it was her own case, or a loved one I can not know, but what was clear that there was some problem, I don't know what and for my purpose here it isn't important. What is important is the way she was being treated by the case worker, translator and practice assistant, who were dealing with the problem. From a distance I assumed that the two people with her were family or friends. The practice assistant I recognized, but the other two? The PA made many trips to the back area, there was much back and forth and finally the resolution was reached. The expression of shear relief and gratitude that spread over that woman's face will be with me forever, I was near tears just watching as she received the news, whatever it was. Then the other two shook her hand and started to walk to the office and I realized that they were a translator and caseworker. My initial mistake should illustrate the way the woman was being cared for. I left after seeing my friend in the central lab, and was thinking of all the work that my own caseworker has put into my comfort and health, of the reception staff and practice assistants who greet me so cordially and know who I am and what I need even before I tell them, who remember my nephew from 4 years ago when he was bringing me back and forth and ask for him still, and who report to me about their kids, "School- It was only yesterday you were pregnant!"

In my darkest hours I have always been eager to go to the Shapiro center, always feel at home there- and that is an essential part of health care. I was thinking all this as I left. The harp woman was playing in the lobby and as I passed to the doors I noticed a small group with one the hospitals signers interpreting for a hearing impaired person. 

Put your eye on the BI and all this is what you'll see!

My eye on the BI #2

I have discovered another Blog-"Running a Hospital!" Talk about a big subject!

 Is there any one left who does not blog? In this case it is particularly interesting, and useful, as in the entry of Monday July 10th in which I find an explanation of the background to the "Eye on the BI" advertisements and the SEIU. It makes me very sad that the labor movement has been so morally reduced that they have to employ these tactics. Talk about degrading! what ever happened to the responsible, the honorable, stance taken by labor in the past. I can understand that in the case of migrant farm workers or other really oppressed groups, absent any constructive response from their employers such tactics might be resorted to, but here we are talking about the teaching hospitals of Harvard University in a major metropolitan area. I find it very upsetting that the after the accomplishments of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries that organized labor should be reduced to this.

I want to be clear that my complaint is the misleading nature of the advertising- misleading in this respect: that neither the intention nor the source is clear. They do have "SEIU" at the bottom. Who knows what that means? the "U" does stand for "Union" so the clairvoyant amongst us should be able to figure it out, but what are the rest of us to do? 

How many times has it happened that a valuable and important institution, even those that contribute heavily to the welfare of our community gets tied into bureaucratic and public relations knots that reduce it's effectiveness as a result of this kind of cowardly attack. It happens because we all stand by and assume that the issue is somehow distant from us; however we regret it, our laziness, fears and isolation make it seem irrelevant to us.

Do you drive? Ever been in an accident? Found yourself in an ambulance? Are you aware that being received at any emergency room, which I think we all assume as a matter of course, is no longer the case. The driver will drive to the BI or Boston Medical because he knows you will be received there. Think about that the next time you see one of those posters!

I will close by sharing with you this observation: That when one is reduced by illness to dependance and poverty you still can find help, compassion and respect in places like the BI. That hasn't happened by accident. It may sound strange to say, but through my own illness I have discovered a blanket of kindness in institutions and in my fellow man that has been a great and consoling gift. The world won't stay that way if we lack the courage, individually and as a society to speak up- to speak out!