It Was the Oddest High School Reunion

By Susan Esther Barnes

It happened days ago, but I can’t stop thinking about it. It was the memorial celebration for Mark West, held at the Contra Costa Civic Theatre, where Mark participated in so many plays, and where he taught at the summer drama camp for kids for a decade or more. It was where I was the House Manager for a few years in the 80’s, and where the man who is now my husband ran the lighting booth.

Many of the people attending the memorial were people my husband and I had known in high school, although, for the most part, they were his friends more than mine. One of the first people who greeted me was Erika.

I remember Erika distinctly, partly because we played Dungeons and Dragons in the same group of people, but mostly because, in high school, I was jealous of her. She was younger than me, and blonder, and prettier, and many, many more boys wanted to date her than me.

I was quite surprised when the first thing Erika said to me was, “You look great. I wish I looked as good as you do.” When I was in high school, I would have killed to hear her say something like that. I would have told you it would never happen. And if you insisted that it would, I would have thought it would be cause for celebration. It wasn’t.

Despite the jealousy, I never disliked Erika. I could totally see what the boys saw in her. Not only was she pretty, she was a fun person. There was something inherently likeable in her that I can’t quite define. Who wouldn’t want to date her?

I don’t know what she looks like in her own eyes, but all of us have aged. None of us look like we did back then. Most of us have changed in other ways, too. But one thing she still has, and which is obvious right from the start, is her likeability. I am at a place in my life when I consider that to be much more important than whether we’ve picked up a few wrinkles or who has more grey hair.

I am no longer jealous of Erika. I am not jealous of Gretchen, or Rosalind, or any of the other people who were and/or are cuter than me, or have better legs, or blonder hair. I’m not jealous because I respect me for who I am, and I respect them for who they are. We are all attractive and powerful women in our own way.

The memorial itself was supposed to be a celebration, and it mostly consisted of stories about Mark. We heard about how he rushed to help when he thought a couple of kids were bullying another, how he challenged and inspired kids at drama camp, and how he treated his nieces and nephews to Slurpees and Top Dogs.

We saw clips from some of the plays he performed in, photos of him as he grew up, and a couple of clips of him that were used in a “Stand Up to Cancer” telethon in 2008.

We laughed a lot, we cried, and we cheered.

Afterward, we went to the Mallard Club, a place where Mark used to go to drink and to play dice and pool. It was the same place where, at his brother’s birthday party a number of years ago, we first learned Mark had cancer.

We told more stories about Mark, we toasted him countless times, and in between we caught up on each other’s lives.

It was the oddest high school reunion ever, and I think Mark would have approved.

"I Want to Know What I'm Praying For" on TC Jewfolk

See my latest post at TC Jewfolk, called "I Want to Know What I'm Praying For." It was written before the surgeon told me I don't have cancer.

Adventures in Medical-land

By Susan Esther Barnes

I know I haven’t been writing much lately. Frankly, I’ve been a little pre-occupied with my health, but now that a doctor has said he doesn’t think I have cancer, I suddenly find it easier to focus on other things.

It all started with a minor irritation I mentioned in my most recent post. After a week on antibiotics and anti-inflammatories there was no change. As advised, I visited my doctor (actually a substitute for my regular doctor since she was on vacation or something), and that’s when things got a little dicey.

The doctor wasn’t sure what I had or what to do next. She said I could try a different antibiotic, but since the first one had made no difference at all, she thought I probably didn’t have an infection. Therefore, we decided not to waste our time on that option.

She said there are a couple of diseases that don’t involve bacteria that could be causing the issue, and she mentioned something called “Padget’s Disease.” Then, she said she would leave the room for a moment to consult with someone with more specialized experience.

When she came back, she told me she had spoken with someone, and per their recommendation she had scheduled me for a mammogram that afternoon. In addition, she said I should see a surgeon, and that they would call me later that day to make an appointment.

She said all of this rather calmly, so it wasn’t until the next day, when I looked up “Mammary Padget’s Disease” online, and started to think how odd it was that she wanted me to see a surgeon without even waiting for the mammogram results, that I started to put it all together. What she was saying in her professional let’s-not-scare-the-patient way was, “I think you may have cancer.”

One of the interesting things I noticed during this process, aside from the desire not to scare me, was the willingness of the medical professionals to make stuff up. When I went in the first time, the nurse who took my vital signs asked me what I had come in for. I told her swelling and irritation, but I noticed that she typed in “breast pain.” I never used the word “pain,” and she never asked me if it hurt. I wondered at the time whether there were only a limited number of options from which she could choose, but it looked like she was just typing it in.

A week later, after Padget’s was mentioned and I was in the radiology department waiting for my mammogram, I looked at my paperwork. I saw that the doctor had written that I had been symptomatic for two weeks. Nobody had ever asked me how long I’d had my symptoms, and at that point it had been something more like four weeks. I don’t know how much it matters, but it seems to me they should try to get these things right, which doesn’t seem so hard to do when all they need to do is ask the patient who is sitting right there in front of them.

At any rate, the good news is that the surgeon said my mammogram looks normal, and he couldn’t find any evidence of a tumor, so there was nothing on which to do a biopsy. He gave me some ointment, and said to call my regular doctor if that doesn’t clear things up within a week.

I still don’t know what I have, or whether the ointment will get rid of it, but right now “not cancer” feels like a good place to be.

Consult with a Pharmacist

By Susan Esther Barnes

I spent a couple of weeks this month looking at a certain area of my body that was a little red, a little irritated, a little swollen, but no big deal. “It will probably go away on its own, right?” I thought.

I don’t like to go to the doctor for every little thing. I’m not the type of person who seeks medical advice for a cold or flu. Plus, I hate antibiotics. They mess up my digestive system. And this looked suspiciously like a candidate for antibiotics, not of the topical ointment variety.

Finally, my husband (have I mentioned lately how wonderful he is?) talked me into making an appointment with my HMO. I was gratified that the nurse practitioner was somewhat stumped. The two things I least want to hear from a medical professional in a case like this are, “This is nothing. Why are you wasting my time?” and “This is serious. You obviously should have come to see me immediately when this appeared.”

She said she would consult with a doctor more knowledgeable in this area, and she’d call me later. That afternoon, I received a call from another nurse, telling me I need to take anitbiotics, an anti-inflammatory pill, use a warm compress on the area twice a day, and make an appointment for a follow up visit with my regular doctor in one week.

When I went to pick up my medication, the cashier asked me whether I would like to speak with the pharmacist. I said, “Yes.” I highly recommend speaking with the pharmacist any time you’re about to take a medication that you haven’t taken before, or haven’t taken in a long time.

I had no reason to believe the pharmacist would tell me anything helpful in this case. I can read the instructions that come with prescriptions, and I’m the kind of person who really does read them, including the list of possible side effects. Nevertheless, I said, “Yes, I would like to speak with the pharmacist.”

The pharmacist told me how often to take the medicine, which was clearly marked on the bottles. She also pointed out that the anti-inflammatory medication is supposed to be taken with food, and the antibiotic is not supposed to be taken with food, so I can’t take them both at the same time.

I mentioned that it’s too bad I can’t take the antibiotic with food, because antibiotics always make me nauseous. She said, “Well, I recommend you take it with a cracker or a piece of toast. That won’t hurt anything, and will help to protect your stomach.”

I said, “Thank you, that will help. But antibiotics really mess up my whole digestive system,” and I listed a couple of side effects we don’t need to go into here. So she said, “Eat one yogurt a day. That will help replace the good bacteria that are being killed by the antibiotic. But don’t eat the yogurt, or anything else with calcium, within two hours of taking the antibiotic, or the calcium will prevent at least some of the antibiotic from being absorbed.”

I replied, “I usually take a calcium supplement with dinner. Should I stop taking that while I’m on the antibiotic?”

“No,” she said, “As long as you don’t take the calcium within two hours of the antibiotic, you’ll be fine.”

To sum up, if I hadn’t talked with the pharmacist, I would have seen the warning about not taking calcium with the antibiotic, but I would have worried about the calcium supplement, and may have needlessly stopped taking it for a while.

Furthermore, I would have had no idea that it would be okay to eat a cracker or two with the antibiotic to protect my stomach. And it’s likely it wouldn’t have occurred to me to eat the yogurt to help with the good bacteria, and even if I did, I may have skipped it due to worries about the calcium. Talking with her was well worth my time.

So far, after two doses each of both medications, my stomach and digestive system feel fine. I know it’s still early, and things could go downhill later, but so far so good. Which is a new experience for me with antibiotics.

I know we’re all in a hurry, and it seems like we have better things to do than waiting in a line for a consultation when we just want to get our medicine and go home, but I highly recommend making the time. You never know what you’ll learn.

Is Santa a Christian Symbol?

By Susan Esther Barnes

One of my posts at TC Jewfolk prompted a writer at the Twin Cities Star Tribune to write an article titled "Is Santa a Christian symbol or a relgious holiday poacher?"

Author Susan Hogan cites some interesting theories about how Santa isn't really Christian. In the end, though, where the Santa figure came from isn't as relevant to my original article as what he symbolizes now.

Ask any American what holiday Santa symbolizes, and the answer you will get is, "Christmas." What does Santa do? He brings Christmas presents. And what is Christmas? Even though many secular people celebrate this holiday in a non-religious way, ask any Christian in any church what Christmas is about, and they will tell you it's a holiday celebrating the birth of Jesus.

So maybe, technically, Santa is a Christian symbol once removed, but he is inextricably tied up in Christmas, a major holiday celebrated by Christians, celebrating the birth of a person of enormous importance to their religion. He may not be about, as Susan Hogan writes, "ho-ho-holiness," but neither should we pretend he is unconnected to one of the two major Christian holidays.

Shabbat in a Hotel Room

My latest post at TC Jewfolk is here.

Read about how I ended up sitting in a hotel room on Friday night, with two candles, a bottle of wine, and a challah on the table, along with a prayer book in my lap and my cell phone beside me.

There's No Such Thing as a Good Stereotype

By Susan Esther Barnes

A friend of a friend recently made a couple of comments on Facebook, saying that Jews are good with money and with numbers.

My response to him was, "Maybe you meant your comments about money and numbers as a compliment, but promoting sterotypes about any group is neither accurate nor helpful, IMHO."

He then said, "Promoting sterotypes is different than accepting them. Why fight something that is sterotypically good instead of accepting it? Hebrew language is based on numbers as well so mathmatics and language are taught from a young age, there is nothing wrong with it. IMHO."

Unfortunately, Facebook isn't a good place to have a discussion like this. A blog isn't either, really, but at least it's a place where I have the room to set out my thoughts on the subject.

I will start by agreeing that there is nothing wrong with teaching math and language from a young age. In fact, as far as I know, in most countries and cultures both of these things are taught from a young age. Everyone learns language, certainly, and most school-age children have at least some basic math skills. There is nothing special about Jews teaching these things to kids.

There are, however, several problems with repeating stereotypes of any kind, including those that may sound, on the surface, to be positive.

First of all, stereotypes are generalizations placed upon groups of people, and as such, they are inaccurate. If you take a random group of Jews, you will find some who are great with money and numbers, some who are terrible at them, and some who are somewhere in between. The same would be true of any random group of people from any religion or country.

Add to this the fact that many people were not born Jewish, but joined us through conversion. Do you think something in the conversion process suddenly makes these Jews better at numbers and math than they used to be? Is there something magical about learning Jewish history, traditions and rituals that imparts these skills upon converts? I think not.

Second, when people say Jews are good with money, this often refers to all sorts of other, less benign-sounding sterotypes. For instance, people say Jews will try to bargain you down on prices, they say Jews will try to cheat you in financial situations, they say Jews will charge you interest rates that are too high, they say Jews run the banks in this country, etc. Like the stereotype of "good with money," some of these things may be true of some Jews, but they are untrue of the majority of us.

Third, sterotypes like these can be demeaning. If I am Jewish and I am good with numbers, by applying this sterotype to me you are insulting me. You are saying that my years of studying, my hard work, my hours spent doing homework and memorizing multiplication tables don't matter. You are saying my skill with numbers is not due to my hard work and diligence, but is rather simply a product of my religion or perhaps my genes. This kind of thinking causes resentment when a Jewish person does better than a Gentile in math classes. It is the kind of thinking that can lead to antisemitism.

Further, if I am Jewish and I am not good at math or numbers, you are telling me I am flawed. Gentiles can be bad at these things, but if I am Jewish and I am bad at them, there is something fundamentally wrong with me. You are telling me I am not, truly, one with my own people. I am, in your mind, an outlier, unusual, not okay.

Fourth, there are Jewish laws about lashon hara, the "evil tongue." The Chafetz Chaim, a great scholar of lashon hara, said that not only should we not say bad things about people in public, we should not say good things about them in public either. That is because saying something good may prompt someone else to say something bad.

For instance, if I say, "Isn't Betty's dress lovely today?" someone else might say, "Yes, usually she looks like such a slob." Similarly, if you say, "Jews are good with money," it might prompt someone else to say, "Yeah, that's how they got away with all those mortgage scams."

So please, dispense with the stereotypes. I am, like you, an individual. Please have the courtesy to try to see me as I am, not as you think people like me ought to be. And I promise, I will try to do the same with you.