On the Topic of Success Against Odds

"Inspiration is for amateurs.
The rest of us just show up and get to work.
Every great idea I've ever had grew out of work itself."

-Chuck Close, CBS News commentary

(Photo:  http://www.jaimetreadwell.com/2-D-self-portrait-grid.htm)

Right Back At Ya

I was shocked to bring up a website the other day and see my very own face staring back at me. I instantly grabbed my cell phone to text my son, because there was his face was right next to mine on the screen.

You may remember that two years ago, our family found ourselves in a situation where we needed to ask for some help. Thanks to the Modest Needs Foundation, we received it and my son was provided with an opportunity that gave him a strong start in college, a place that once seemed out of reach for him.

When I say our Modest Needs experience was a gift I’ll never forget, it’s as much about how a generous act can turn one’s life around as it is about the monetary help we received.

So when Modest Needs Executive Director Keith Taylor asked if we'd mind being featured on their redesigned website, I happily agreed. (A professional photo shoot that included an incredibly talented television biz make-up artist? Why, I’d be happy to oblige!) A couple months went by and we hadn’t heard whether our story would be selected to be featured on the home page.

Then suddenly, there we are. Along with a fashionably hip new look, Modest Needs has also invested in technology to make it easier to find your way around the website, search applications, and process your donation to a specific deserving person you’d like to help. It’s a unique model of charitable giving, legitimate and highly rated, and the most personal way I know to do some good in the world.

“Excuse Me, How Do You Get to Carnegie Hall?”

Blog inspiration grabs me in the funniest places.

At the symphony, for example.

Like many a musical child, I remember being taught that Ludwig van Beethoven had become completely deaf by the time he composed his most magnificent symphonies. He never heard so much as a single note of his most famous pieces.

So why did I get goosebumps as I sat next to my own musical daughter and heard the tale yet again from Philadelphia Orchestra Assistant Conductor Cristian Macelaru at a recent preconcert talk? Because life experience now gives such stories deeply personal perspective.

Maestro Macelaru described how, when Beethoven realized there was no reversing his descent into silence, he began to fill notebook after notebook with simple scales. The composer was contemplating suicide. But, as Beethoven wrote, “it seemed impossible to leave the world until I had brought forth all that I felt was within me.” And so he toiled for days upon end to commit perfectly to memory each distinct tone of every musical scale.

If not for the simple scales transcribed like a beginner student, there would be no Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Or Beethoven’s Third, which describes through instrumental music his struggles with failing health and which he called “The Heroic Symphony.”

It was completed not long after his return from a respite in the German town of Heiligenstadt where he penned a secret letter to his brothers, revealed to them after his death. (Don’t leave patientlovingcare.com until you’ve read it here.)

So how did Beethoven (or at least his music) get to Carnegie Hall? “Practice, my dear. Practice.”

(Picture: 8notes.com)

Joyfully Riding the Downside of the Bell Curve

When I’m not writing about how to improve face time with your doctor, I’ll often focus on avoiding becoming a patient in the first place. It occurred to me this morning that it’s actually been awhile since our family has been in the throes of medical treatment.

Our own journey began a dozen years ago at just about this time of year, and I can pinpoint the moment exactly -- when a song broke the decorum of a business meeting. It took me a few seconds to realize the noise was coming from my purse and that my first cell phone, purchased just weeks before, was ringing to the tune of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.” On the phone was the unsteady voice of a woman who identified herself as a substitute nurse at the elementary school. My son had had a seizure, and an ambulance was on the way. Could I come as soon as possible?

That day marked the beginning of a journey that became increasingly hellish over about six years. Then, around the time my son hit sophomore year of high school, things began to level out. It actually took a couple more years of holding our collective breath before we dared to think maybe he was past the worst of this medical crisis. After he graduated, things really began to look up and now, although he still battles symptoms and side effects daily, his medical condition does not consume his daily life and that of the entire family.

Of course the healthy status quo could turn on a dime, concerning my son or anyone else in the family. But for now I’ll believe we’ve scaled a peak and are coasting the down slope. How I’d love to keep it that way.

Jealous When Other People Walk My Dog

Early morning dog walking duty goes to my husband. But come dinnertime, I’m grateful to have a pooch who gives purpose to taking a stroll around the neighborhood. That puppy dog who needs a walk when I really don’t feel so motivated to get my body moving is probably adding years to my life. You’ll understand then why I get pouty when Dear Husband or one of the kids announces they’re in the mood to take the dog out. They just don’t get it. That’s my time to get motivated with my little 30-pound personal fitness coach. Jealous? You bet.

What do you do to get your rear in gear? My dog might be my motivation to actually put on the sneakers and head out the door, but the statistical information (presented in some really creative ways) is what convinced me that exercise doesn’t have to be a hard core session at some sweaty gym to make a difference.

Take a look:

Thank goodness for cartoons to keep one's attention through a dry medical lecture on a miracle "intervention" that will control all sorts of medical conditions -- presented with a wink and a smile ;)

If you've been reading for awhile, you know I'm a fan of Walk With a Doc. Here are a bunch of reminders why it's fun to take a walk. Also, Dr. Sabgir's latest newsletter gives 100 reasons to get moving - who could argue?

"Inactivity" and "low fruits and vegetables." Might as well throw a housewarming party for all sorts of cancers.

The PLC Doctor's Memo: New & Improved

We hope you've had a chance to try out our free download, the Patient Loving Care Doctor's Memo. Our toolkit guides you through collecting your thoughts, noting down important information and questions for your next visit, and then presenting your thoughts to the doctor articulately and succinctly once you get into the exam room. In today's time-crunched world, it's critically important that your healthcare team understands fully how you're feeling and what you think you may need to know before you walk out the door to be on your way.

We've done a little tweaking to make the toolkit a bit easier to use. We've expanded the instructions and combined them with the sample doctor's memo so everything you need to guide you is in one place. We kept the memo template as a separate file so it's easy to hit "Save As..." and create a fresh copy on your computer every time you have an appointment.

Please take our revised Doctor's Memo Toolkit for a spin and let us know what you think. Do you have any questions about the instructions? Have you used it for a doctor's visit? How did it go?

Doctor's don't like to rush through appointments any more than patients do. So your doc will be grateful you're making the most of your limited time together by coming in with a well-prepared memo. A friendly hello and a time-saving copy of your memo will be a welcome break in their hectic day.

Happy Holidays from Patient Loving Care

Now, Here’s One For You

Last time, we suggested a question for your doc - “what happens next?” – as a way to really get to the nuts and bolts of what you need to know about your diagnosis. Today we’ve got a great pop quiz for you, the patient.

“What do you think is going on?"

I was at the doctor’s office recently because my teen had fainted on the job. The doctor (actually it was a third year medical student) tossed out some questions to try and figure out why, but nothing was a match. Then, as an afterthought, I mentioned we were worried about her diet. She wasn’t eating right and drinking an awful lot of tea. Suddenly, the diagnosis became crystal clear. Turns out tea can quickly rob your body of iron, leading to anemia and, therefore, fainting. A simple blood test confirmed she needed to cut down on the Darjeeling and take a supplement to bring her iron levels back to where they should be.

Doctor-turned-patient Roni Zeiger told his own story here about arriving in the emergency room with bleeding in his brain. He used his clinical skills to relate his symptoms in a succinct and articulate way to the attending physician, just like we preach here at patientlovingcare.com. Afterward (and thankfully the bleeding issue proved to be minor and there was an “afterward”) Dr. Zeiger contemplated why he hadn’t gotten more personal with the staff.

The summary he gave was “brief, clinical and effective,” he wrote. “It told the doctors what they needed to know, but it was missing two important things. First, it lacked humanity. Why didn’t I tell my doctors that I was scared, that I was worried about the future of my wife and children?...Second, I didn’t tell the doctors all of my symptoms and the events surrounding them. Without even thinking about it, I only told them what I thought was relevant. In fact, a common mistake we doctors make is getting too attached to the first diagnosis we think of, and then failing to ask about other symptoms, other clues.”

So how do you distinguish between adding relevant personal details and rambling on with TMI? Well, a good doctor will know how to tease out the info that really matters. But practicing patientlovingcare.com’s commandments to be succinct and articulate is a good place to start. Take a moment to collect your thoughts before diving into a story in the exam room. See if you can get to the heart of your comment in just a sentence or two. Or just test out a possibility by saying “this might not be relevant, but what about… (tea, for instance, or whatever is on your mind).”

Opening up a little just might be what the doctor ordered.

If Nothing Else, Ask…

“What happens next?”

If there’s one question that will really get to the heart of what’s going on with your health, that’s the one to ask your doctor. It’s a great way to clarify information if your doctor just delivered less than good news and your head is spinning.

If you feel that you understand the big picture, asking “what happens next?” will break down a diagnosis into smaller steps. It can prompt a conversation about scheduling and timelines, how you may feel as things progress, or treatment options you may be able to choose at each step in your care.

This little gem of a question was tucked into an enlightening list from Reader’s Digest entitled “50 Secrets Your Nurse Won’t Tell You”. Author Michelle Crouch compiled the responses from nurses across the country.

Here’s the excerpt from #45, contributed by Wisconsin nurse Kristin Baird:

At the end of an appointment, ask yourself: Do I know what's happening next? If you had blood drawn, find out who's calling who with the results, and when. People assume that if they haven't heard from anyone, nothing is wrong. But I've heard horror stories. One positive biopsy sat under a pile of papers for three weeks."

A simple "what happens next?" can put everyone involved on the right track.

Being An Expert Outside Your Field of Expertise

Everyone within arm’s reach of a keyboard has felt the need to pen a tribute to Steve Jobs. And I had no intention of joining the homage-fest to the Apple co-founder, though I’m fascinated by his creative mind and visionary success. Then a paragraph in Rolling Stone magazine’s tribute jumped off the page:

As his illness worsened, Jobs found his life narrow even further. He didn’t go out at night, never accepted awards, gave no speeches, attended no parties. Instead, he holed up in his home in Palo Alto, where he hung out with his family and learned everything he could about cancer- and how he might beat it. “He knew more about it than any oncologist,” says his old friend Larry Brilliant, who is an MD. His body grew thinner and thinner, and he took a six-month leave from Apple to have a liver transplant.

-Jeff Goodell, Rolling Stone, Oct. 27 2011

We all know how the story ends - dead at 56.

So the thing to honor about Steve Jobs is that he was one of us. He was a patient, desperate for knowledge. In the end, his condition put him on an even playing field with everyone who’s ever been on the receiving end of a diagnosis. The lesson is in how he spent his time – education, research, bringing his own facts into consultations, becoming an expert in his own disease. For every patient who does the same, it’s a life well lived.

Long live Steve Jobs.

(Photo: Rolling Stone)

A Spunky Guy In Richmond I'd Like To Meet

As I write, the five-hour drive to Virginia would land me four hours too late to meet Bob Wendell. A shame, because he’s 92 and a classical bass player-turned harmonica recording artist. Plus he’s the compelling example on a panel discussion this evening about today’s fragmented healthcare system - a system that could debilitate or even kill a senior who isn't savvy enough to keep medications and doctor’s orders straight. In other words, a senior who's not Bob Wendell.

His story was originally told here in Richmond Magazine.

Wendell’s litany of health concerns includes five strokes, swallowing problems that mean he eats some food and gets the rest through a feeding tube in his stomach, and caring for his wife of 30 years who has advanced Alzheimer’s. Wendell’s search for second opinions and active participation in his own care mean he continues to lead a full and happy life. His ability and desire to take charge of his health is a great lesson that he teaches to neighbors in his senior building, where he’s president of the residents association.

Tonight’s event at WCVE public radio brings together experts to elaborate on the magazine story. It’s a public discussion which will be recorded and broadcast on October 16 here and over the air.

And it all rings so true with PatientLovingCare.com’s central purpose – to provide patients and caregivers the tools they need to navigate the medical maze. In the spirit of Bob Wendell and others like him, we hope our doctor’s memo is a start and inspires you to take charge of your own care.

Some day, it could save your life.

(Photo: Bob Wendell, RichmondMagazine.com)

Newsy Tuesday

Welcome to Newsy Tuesday. Pour yourself a cuppa whatever you'd like and pick from amongst this collection of good reads. It's like a mini gym visit for your mind - refreshing!

Autistic and Seeking a Place in the Adult World
Here's an expertly written story from the New York Times, told from the perspective of a New Jersey boy. Tender without being maudlin.

The Creative Brain on Exercise
I just may do a full-blown post on this one, although at patientlovingcare.com I'm preaching to the choir about the mental benefits and disease-fighting power of exercise.

New Drug-Free Treatment for Depressed Teens
If your life includes a teen with mental health issues, you know all about the medication high-wire balancing act. 3GenFamily blogs about a study on the effectiveness of non-pharmacy treatment. Hooray for research!

A Story about Finding Assisted Living - Part I
This is a British blog with a name similar to ours. Unlike PLC, however, author Linda Abbit focuses solely on eldercare issues. I'm eagerly awaiting part II of this series on moving Aunt Sally to assisted living.

Enjoy, and bottoms up!

Show Me Your Fridge, I Dare You ;p

At a fashion shoot, photographers will occasionally step away from their professional cameras to take a cheap snapshot. It gives a quick, fresh perspective and it’s an easy way to spot adjustments to lighting, background and pose in order to get that perfect shot.

So, what if you used the same technique with your life: snapshots to get a fresh perspective? I dare you – right now- to go and snap a picture of the inside of your fridge. Since in my fridge you might spot that black, fuzzy thing at the back of the bottom shelf, I’ll let words describe my picture:

• half a cake
• apples
• leftover fries
• milk
• homemade mac and cheese

Not too bad, but there’s probably room for improvement. Knowing you might want another peek soon, I’ll shop a little wiser today and be able to show off salad fixings, some more fruit and maybe some OJ next time.

Even if you're not going public with such info, taking a snapshot is a great idea to make us more aware of our daily choices. In fact, the idea comes from a group of researchers who used cell phone pictures as a creative way to combat disease.

Since a major cause of chronic disease is individuals’ everyday health-related decisions that affect long-term health, the researchers gave families cheap cell phones for the purpose of snapping pictures related to day to day activities. Simply drawing attention to what went on over the course of the day prompted families to think about what easy adjustments they could make to improve their health. Counselors also reviewed the information with the families and added nutrition education and health tips to further encourage a healthier lifestyle. (Find the full study here in the Journal of Participatory Medicine.)

The premise again is this: A major cause of chronic disease is individuals’ everyday health-related decisions that affect long-term health.

Put that up behind a fridge magnet and ponder it.

The Brakes On the Wheelchair

Last month, I felt quite clever but at the same time irritated that by the third visit to the hospital we were able to navigate the long walk from the front lobby to ICU without a map. After all, I didn’t sign up for this stint of several visits a day. It was involuntary enlistment.

Nevertheless, in such circumstances you learn the ropes and develop a routine. Being a quick study conserved my energy for more important things. What I noticed though, was how attentively the Cleveland Clinic hospital where my father was admitted eased the stress of family visits with simple courtesy.

Staff at all levels seemed trained to be mindful of visitors. Recognizing – and alleviating - bewilderment is apparently a priority. You get a map every time you check in. Stand still in a hallway for just a moment and staff – whether housekeeping, a tech or a doctor – ask how they can help to direct you. Everyone seemed to understand that – with the possible exception of the maternity floor – every visitor in the building wished they didn’t have to be there.

My first inkling I'd be catered to in this way came at the entrance, where visitor wheelchairs are stashed . On my first visit after arriving in town, the usually abundant supply was gone but a valet traipsed through two departments to retrieve one for us. Then, after we arrived at ICU, I realized my ignorance with this basic piece of equipment – fumbling at first until an aide pointed out the brake that would keep the wheelchair from scooting across the room, landing the occupant squarely on the floor (!).

Like everything else in healthcare, treatment of patient families is institutionalized and codified. In fact, my research on the subject turned up a press release from the Disney Institute announcing a new training module on family interaction for the purpose of increasing hospital satisfaction ratings, which are about to become a matter of public record due to new government regulations.

But only so much civility can be taught in a seminar. At a hospital where veterans lead by example and empathy is valued, painful memories of a last hospital stay are softened by the kindness of strangers.

The Empty Blog

There's no need to write up a post today.

Just click here for a must-read inspiring story.

When you're done, you'll suddenly feel the strength to move mountains.


(Image via Facebook. Painting by Margaret Stineman.)

Lace Up That Trusty Pair of Chucks

A trip to Ohio last week meant a rare chance to see my BFF and blogging partner Diane “in real life” as we say online. It was great to spend some time with her family! Two of the many fantastic things about the Buckeye State are her husband Dave’s grilling skills (he used to do it professionally – working his way through college) and that pitcher of margaritas that is was in Diane’s fridge.

I also brought back a souvenir for PatientLovingCare readers that I picked up on the front page of Friday’s Cleveland Plain Dealer. I immediately bookmarked this story about walkwithadoc.org and tracked down the organization website to share here.

Walk With a Doc is the brainchild of a physician who found that patients often had trouble getting started on an exercise program but were more than willing to take a walk at a local park if their doctor invited them to come along with him. Soon after he started the program in Columbus, Dr. David Sabgir had 100 people joining him for Saturday morning strolls.

Dozens of doctors have signed on since, agreeing to organize walks and socialize alongside regular folks who like the group support and the idea that healthcare providers are nearby as they tentatively step out for a fitness program. The docs are required to begin with a short health presentation and be available to chat for a 45 minute stroll.

It is said that one hour of walking adds two hours to your life expectancy. Who could refuse that kind of return on investment? I was curious though, what motivated the doctors to sign on for this busman’s holiday of having their patients join them for their workout time. Turns out it’s just good marketing. Sponsoring a local Walk With a Doc builds good will and brings attention to the docs as community leaders.

Click here to find a group near you. Or contact your favorite healthcare provider to suggest starting up a chapter – it’s win/win for both of you.

If I Told You To, Would You Believe In Yourself?

Today we dust off our soapbox on the topic of education. If you are caregiver to a child, you know the unquestionable importance of learning success despite medical obstacles.

What prompted this post was an opinion piece in the Philadelphia Inquirer with the attention-grabbing headline “Self-esteem exercise boosts minority teen achievement.” Despite my initial suspicions, it was not at all a rehash the ‘90s self-esteem psychology that I’ve seen employers blame for a young workforce ill-prepared to learn from constructive criticism because they’ve been raised on a strict diet of praise.

Rather, the article is about the profound power of expectations. Author David Kirp (a Berkeley professor of public policy) says that as early as kindergarten, a disproportionate percentage of African-American boys believe they lack the innate ability to succeed in school. And so they don’t. The piece goes on to cite middle school and college studies that, in a nutshell, suggest that when minority students are a.) told stories of upper classmen who succeeded in spite of feeling at first intimidated and unworthy or b.) given a primer on how “effortful learning” rewires the brain, the result is that test scores and grades measurably improved compared to control groups.

I’ll leave the education and minority-achievement debates to others. But I’ll take this opportunity to speak out on how chronic illness affected my own child’s expectations at school. His symptoms became progressively worse as he moved through junior high. A straight-A student in elementary school, he started to believe “I used to be smart, and now I’m stupid.” When things hit rock bottom, he was seeing several counselors outside of school. My child, his parents and school staff were at wits’ end. But the best thing any of us did - and what he may be most grateful for today - is when people told him he was wrong: he wasn’t stupid, he was just temporarily having trouble while we struggled to get neurological problems under control.

I am still very proud of the essay my child submitted with his college application. The third paragraph mentions a science teacher who recommended he be moved down from college prep to general ed classes because of his medical condition. “I set the goal to ‘prove him wrong’ and I was able to stay in college prep level classes…. I had to study harder and harder just to squeak by. Finally my hard work started to pay off and I was able to bring up my grades and do well on the SAT. For a while, I thought I wouldn’t be able to go to college and now I think I will have no problem earning a four-year degree.”

Fortunately, his college of choice agreed, and he is well on his way to succeeding at earning a bachelor’s degree.

Figuring out where to set the bar on expectations can be difficult. The wrong decision can be disastrous. But I can’t think of any circumstances where setting a goal for improvement is a mistake. Illness, minority status, nor intelligence tests can ever take into account the miraculous power of a child inspired to believe he can “prove them wrong.”

The Truth? You Can't Handle the Truth!

I’ve come across a rash of examples lately involving people who've felt misled in conversations with their doctor. We’re not talking egregious medical malpractice here. But the choice of words in the course of discussing treatment left the patient feeling let down as things played out.


The first example came from a newspaper column that addressed this very issue from a doctor’s perspective. The patient had heard “perfect vision.” The eye surgeon apparently had been alluding to “near perfect” vision, and ultimately lost the trust of the man in his care. How often do you ask your doctor to clarify things? Do you ever repeat back what you just heard to make sure you’re both on the same page?

The next example was a burn victim (a motivational speaker whose inspiring story I’ll save for another post) who didn’t fully comprehend the meaning of “we’ll reconstruct your face” as she lay bandaged up after a horrific car accident. Have you ever jumped to optimistic conclusions only to be later disappointed by medical results?

Then last night over dinner, a friend mentioned her own recent experience: Her rather routine outpatient procedure was halted when a red flag came up in pre-op testing. Over the course of a couple weeks, she was sent for scan after scan, all the while being told “don’t worry, it’s probably nothing.” She finally confronted the doctor with a possible condition they were trying to rule out. Something a relative had died from. The doc finally ‘fessed up. Yes, that’s what we’re looking for, he said. To everyone’s relief, everything came up clear. What would you have preferred? The unblinking truth that something terrible was suspected? Or vague answers to keep the “what if” monster from coming out from under the bed each sleepless night?

Leave a comment and share your own experience.

Round 2: The Family

Well, my job is totally consuming, my husband is working full time, we have a daughter living at college and a seventeen year old son that is finishing up his senior year and getting ready to begin college. There are all the end of year activities of his senior year and just trying to keep up with life. Anyone who has gone through the experience of your child graduating high school and going away to college knows the time and stress involved in this. The craziness starts around Feb. when the FAFSA (Federal Financial Aid) needs to be submitted. After that, the decision is made as to what college will get your child.

Around this time my mother started to complain about occasional pain in her upper arm and into her jaw. Knowing these are cardiac symptoms we quickly encouraged her to see her cardiologist. Within a month (in March) she went in for a heart catheterzation. Before she went in, we heard the patient in the next cubical had to stay because she needed to have open heart surgery. I silently bowed my head and said a prayer for her and was thankful that my mom was not in the situation. Within minutes my mother went in for the procedure and within an hour, little did we ever imagine, those words that were spoken to her neighbor were being spoken to her. Yes, my mother was going to stay in the hospital and have open heart surgery within 48 hours. I remember feeling numb and thinking, "No, this is not a good time." Soon I realized that there really is no good time for this. She went to her room and a parade of doctors came through her room and she had more tests than one could imagine. My brother came home to see her and stay with us for the long wait of surgery and beyond. Once again, our family was all together to deal with this crisis together. What a wonderful support system! I had memories of her hospitalization in 2007 when we thought we had lost her(see post dated Feb. 21, 2010). Going in to see her, the sound of the ventilator was very loud and all the tubes, gadgets and IV's were overwhelming, even for a nurse to see. What would be in store for us? Would she be able to breathe on her own again? Well, no time is the right time, but for some reason we manage to make it work because the power of love gives us the ability to do more than we can imagine.
She is now home. Weak and recovering, but around those that love her the most-her family!

Reverent and Irreverent Mother’s Day Prayers, Equally Sincere

Some time ago, when a friend was expecting her first child, I came across a beautiful prayer online. I formatted it with a picture, framed it, and proceeded to make everyone at her baby shower cry. I’ve given it to every pregnant friend ever since. (What I don’t know is who wrote it. If you’ve got any information, please let me know.)

What a perfect thing to post on Mother's Day.

Then last week on Facebook, someone posted Tina Fey’s prayer for her daughter. If you’re not one for irreverence, please click away about half way through this post. If you stick around, and if you have a daughter or a son, you just might find yourself laughing and crying all at the same time.

Happy Mother’s Day from PatientLovingCare.com.

Special Angels

Author unknown

Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born.
So one day he asked God: They tell me you are sending me to earth today
But how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?

Among the many angels, I chose one for you.
She will be waiting for you and will take care of you.

But tell me, here in Heaven I don’t do anything else but sing and smile
And that is enough for me to be happy

Your angel will sing for you and will smile for you every day.
And you will feel your angel’s love and be happy.

How am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me
If I don’t know the language that men talk?

Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will ever hear
And with much patience and care your angel will teach you to speak.

And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?

Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray.

I’ve heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?

Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life.

But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore.

Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way
For you to come to me even though I will always be near you

At that moment there was much peace in Heaven
But voices from earth could already be heard,
And the child, in a hurry, asked softly:
Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel’s name.

Your angel’s name is of no importance.
You will simply call her “Mom.”

Tina Fey’s Prayer for her Daughter

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her

When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.

(Photo: flavorwire.com & American Express)