WHY DO WE WRITE?

Originally appeared on September 16, 2012.

Nursing Stories

I attended the book signing this past August. Farther Along, written by my friend and mentor, Carol Henderson, which told the stories of thirteen mothers (she is one of them), a bakers dozen as Carol points out, who had lost children at various ages.

I was prepared to cry. I don’t do well with death of children, even adult children. Children shouldn’t die before their parents. Maybe that’s why I choose geriatrics as my specialty. Old folks die. It’s expected. No surprises. I can deal with that.

I teared up but didn’t cry and was somewhat unprepared for the humor, serenity, and lack of self-pity as the six mothers read sections from the book. But then ten years had passed since the women came together under Carol’s guidance and direction. Certainly bereavement takes time to absorb, rant and rage against, come to terms and eventually accept the grievous loss…

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Luther

I received my memoir manuscript from my editor this past week. Thankfully, she hadn’t any issues with structure. (I’m not counting the many grammatical errors she found that I thought I had addressed but still missed). Since the last version of my book, I have changed the title, dropped five chapters, deepened some others, and … Continue reading Luther

WHY CAN’T NURSES RUN THE SHOW?

Last week I reblogged Josephine Ensign’s Radical Hat-Burning Nurses Unite! because I was moved watching the Politics of Caring. The video, released in 1977, showed in Ensign’s words, “how little things have changed.” Nurses then were striking and joining unions in order to have “control over their jobs” and to promote safe and good nursing … Continue reading WHY CAN’T NURSES RUN THE SHOW?

VANISHED Part 2 of 3

When the clinic first opened last year, Margaret would saunter in holding Josie’s hand, pulling her along. While Margaret’s stringy hair and disheveled clothes reflected an indifference to her own appearance, Josie always looked neat. Like a treasured, well cared for doll. Her deeply wrinkled face blank but her blue eyes held a sparkle. She … Continue reading VANISHED Part 2 of 3

VANISHED Part 1 of 3

A feverish Chicago summer ebbed into autumn. No telltale falling leaves signaled the change of seasons on this block of concrete walkways surrounding the massive twenty-story apartment building. I yanked open the heavy door. Inside the foyer, through the grimy glass doors, I noticed Margaret parking Josie, in her wheelchair, in front of the elevator. … Continue reading VANISHED Part 1 of 3