In Memory of Doc

Doc was an amazing and loving man who brought people together to share laughs, stories and great food.  Doc was a client of mine back in 2003 and suffered from schizophrenia.  He was Jamaican and had a gift for cooking his native foods, his weekly meal became a time when everyone gathered together in the residence.  His cooking became my greatest asset in reaching out to my clients and staff.

The joy of his meal brought even the most elusive of clients home, relaxed and full for the evening.  I soon changed my schedule and began working later on Doc’s assigned day to cook.  It was a great feeling to look around and see everyone interacting, laughing and enjoying the moment.  They all had so many problems, staff and clients alike, but in this moment they were united. 

This united feeling translated into treatment, because they had begun to know and trust each other.  The greatest irony was that this was the most difficult residence we ran at the time, a 24-hour staffed group home for those with mental illness and substance abuse treatment needs.  This was the house where clients went missing on a regular basis, individuals were hospitalized on a regular basis and treatment was complicated by the fact that many of the clients did not want to engage in treatment.  This made Doc’s weekly gathering a rare and opportune moment for any treatment planning and implementations to occur.

Doc was around just long enough for the schedule and routine to stick and in his absence staff and clients worked together to try and replicate his cooking.  I recall when he went missing and the feeling of worry.  I called every hospital and police station in the Boston area.  I faxed his picture and info to everyone I could, including the state morgue.  Poor Doc lied there for seventeen days before anyone was notified.  He died at the track so I tell myself he was happy, he loved that place.

His funeral was like nothing I had ever experienced.  The raw emotion at the grave took all my strength.  His mother fell into my arms struck by grief and his brother hurried over to stand her up again.  He was such a handsome man, the youngest of nine children he looked just like his older brother Doc.  He was a gentle man like his brother too, he had the same kind soul.  

Following the funeral was a celebration of Doc’s life, complete with great food and music.  For hours all those who loved and knew Doc danced, laughed and celebrated.  What a contrast to how I had been raised.  I recall thinking, this is what I want people to be like when I die.

Residential being what it is, before long there were all new staff and all new clients living there in Doc’s home, but every Wednesday night the group came together for dinner.

Rest in Peace Doc 

Tree of Life

It has been seven weeks since I have been able to attend physical therapy due to other medicals.  Underwent a surgical procedure and I am beyond ready to return to my life before this.  Interesting, all of a sudden life in a wheelchair is far more appealing.  With my wheels I can do so much more than I could have imagined.  For example, roll myself to and from a rehab pool that would give me use of my legs more and more each week.

I miss that strength.  The strength that comes from staring down the “seemingly impossible” and knowing that trying and living were so closely encircled.  Each attempt fueled the living processes; with each success came a desire for more.  With each step I took I felt a surge of energy and was cognizant of the need to enjoy and appreciate each day for what it brought.

Having been benched from life for so long now, I am becoming aware of my depleted energy and my depleted desire.  This is a dangerous place to be in life, this is when people begin to live not for themselves but for those they care about. 

For example, “Are you feeling like you might hurt yourself, or take your own life?”  Mother/Father: “I would never do that to my children!”

This tells me this individual feels intense pain and might entertain suicidal thoughts but their love for someone else is what they count on to keep them alive.  This pain is serious and should be discussed with a mental health professional.  I am not suggesting that anyone who has said this is at risk for suicide, but we do not need to carry that kind of pain when there are resources to help elevate some of the burden.  

Many of us were raised to believe that there was something wrong with seeing a mental health therapist.  This belief system is strong rooted in many cultures, but it is baseless; mental health needs attention just like physical health is important.

When we ignore mental health symptoms they can get worse just as ignored physical symptoms can worsen.  So why do so many people ignore mental health symptoms?  Often it has something to do with what other people will think.  It cannot be stressed enough how invalid this answer is under any conditions but especially under these circumstances!  We would never judge a young girl receiving treatment for leukemia, yet some would judge a young girl receiving treatment for a depressive disorder.  This is wrong on so many levels.   

Be sure you are living your life for you because that is where strength comes from, don’t let society confuse you of your worth.  If you need a mental health tune-up please do not ignore it. 

I agree that being Mom is my favorite role in life and understand this perspective of living for our children, however, we need to see beyond that.  It is who we are that makes us successful in our most important and precious roles in life. If we neglect to take care of ourselves as a whole we jeopardize being successful in the roles that matter most.  Imagine the tree of life; the tree must be strong to support its branches, leaves and seedlings.  Take care of yourself because if you are healthy and strong those around you will also reap the rewards.