Endless Knots

Sir Ziu and his 34,000 coins

Please watch this heart-warming story about love, surprises, and saving. Ziu Cardoso, who lives in Bom Jesus Da Serra, Bahia, Brazil, wanted to surprise his wife, Maria, with something very special for their 50th wedding anniversary. Over seven years, Ziu saved 34,000 reals (Brazilian currency, 1.75 to the dollar), stashing them in a friend's safe. Then he drove to the local car dealer and purchased the car to give to his wife. Very sweet story -- and for those who know me, Ziu is Julia's (Medeiros, yes, Julia!) uncle!

English speakers: be sure to turn on CC for subtitles. 

 

 

"That's Not My Name"

What's yours?

After being called Jennifer for the umpteenth time, this one by someone I actually know well, and then watching someone in a meeting called by someone else's name, prompting an "I'm always called ... " discussion, we did something fun at our next meeting. We went around the table, telling one another the name we're always miscalled. Here are a few choice ones:

John = Jonathan
Travis = Trevor
Ayesha = Alicia
Denise = Dennis
Ros = Ross
Jason = Jack, Harry, or Mike
Harry = Barry, Larry, Gary, or Harold
Luzia = Lucy
Rachele = Rochelle

So in honor of us all, this song by the Ting Tings called, yes, "That's Not My Name."

 

 

Monique Doyle Spencer: The courage person

Mo-unique.

Nonpareil.

Beautiful.

Funny, funny. funny.

Compassionate (this eulogy she gave for her chemo buddy is the paradigm of how it can be done with grace and humor).

Insightful (as in her book, How Can I Help? Everyday Ways to Help Your Loved One Live with Cancer, with practical advice for the people who ask the question and for those who have to answer it).

Practical (as in her book, written with Hope Ricciotti, The Real Life Body Book: A Young Woman's Complete Guide to Health and Wellness).

And above all courageous. Who else could write a hilarious book called The Courage Muscle: A Chicken's Guide to Living with Breast Cancer?

All of these books written, by the way, post-diagnosis.

Monique came to visit a few days after my husband was diagnosed with his terminal cancer, she in her 8th, or 18th, or 80th, it seemed, year of endurance. Metastatic breast cancer. She who was in treatment herself came to visit one who was about to enter the world of chemo and radiation and blood counts and tumor markers. In spite of all she was going through, she had the will to visit someone just beginning.

Before all this, Monique and I had become friends, principally on the phone, which is an excellent way to get to the heart of things. Which we did. Then, after Jeff began receiving treatment, we were often on that floor of the hospital that no one wanted to visit at the same time, which gave us time for more visits, more deepening.

Last week, I'd heard from Monique's childhood friend, Stuart Sadick, also a friend of mine, that the end was near... and I just saw that it had come on his Facebook page. Late last night.

A lot of people are crying today... and laughing. Thank you, dear person, for redefining a whole category of experience.

I wish Dr. Seuss were around to write a rhyme for this phenom. It would have to begin...

As different as different as different can be

Her name was Monique and she was so fun-ny...

 

 

 

Sylvia, Amartya, BPL, 6 PM

 

 

Quite the line-up tonight at Boston Public Library when Sylvia Nasar, author of Grand Pursuit (and A Beautiful Mind and Knight Professor at Columbia Graduate School of Journalism and my adored college roomie) engages in conversation with 1998 Nobel Laureate in Economic Sciences Amartya Sen, thinker extraordinaire, and accomplishments too long to list. Economic historian Claudia Goldin, president-elect of American Economic Association, is the moderator. 6-7:30, Rabb Lecture Hall, Copley Square Main Library. Here's one (of many) rave(s) for Sylvia's book. See you there!

The way to do it: "I waited to write"

A little over a year ago, I received an unexpected package in the mail from someone I barely knew. Amy Reece had heard about our situation and her impulse was to send a gift, a warm and snugly gift, a creamy blue pashmina which I wore today. Since then, there have been many gifts of kindness from people we know well, some whom we barely know, and some whom we hadn't heard from in years. One such came through last week, a letter from Alexandar Randall V, whom we first met in the 1970s and whom we haven't seen since the late 1990s. With his permission, I'm excerpting the letter, omitting all the truly personal material, including many observations Alex has about Jeff and about Jeff's and my life together. I'm posting the letter for a simple reason. It's an example of what helps after someone dies, in this case a little more than four months after my spouse has died.

Thank you, Alex. (NB: Alex is often credited with having conducted the first act of ecommerce through the Boston Computer Exchange, the very early bulletin board system that he started with his wife, Cameron--"Camie," see below--Hall, who died in 1998.)

Dear Jessica:

I waited to write. When my wife Camie died, it seemed that everyone had words of condolences and joined my grief for the few days immediately after her passing. Yet I was still mourning weeks later and by then I was all alone. So I waited to write when the throng has finished sharing your grief – so I could be here for you when you are more alone...

...I observed when Camie died that there was no one left who shared our mutual stories. There was no one with whom I could say “remember that day in Spain at the Sherry festival” and have her nod and remind me of the rhythm of the drummer in the dances. Or “Remember when we were still doing the business in the living room…” and have her remember the buy and sell cards.

Because we were together 24 hours a day at work and at home, our whole history was a shared history. My deepest loss as the loss of the mutual memory, the shared stories. There is no one else who shared it all and with her, I felt as if my memories had been removed. I lost my stories when I lost her. I can remember but there is no one with whom to share the memories. I assume you are experiencing just such a loss now....

Someone came to me after Camie died and said “She has given you a new life. You may not have asked for it but you have the gift of a new life.”

Jeff has given you a new life. You may not have asked for it, but you got it! You will have new adventures, new projects, new working partners and more. It may not have been your life plan, but it is now.

I send you deepest condolences on the loss of Jeff and I wish you all the best as you explore the new life upon which you have embarked.

If you need a vacation sometime, please make plans to come to our guest cottage and perhaps we can roll you into a special presentation at the University of the Virgin Islands.

May he rest in peace and may you thrive in your new endeavors. Godspeed!

Alexander Randall 5th
/sig/

The book of life

At the very tail end of this day of atonement, a small montage of four, two in my news, two in yours, who died in the past few months of pancreatic cancer.

Clockwise from upper left, my dear friend, Donna Bannon from my hometown, who lived only 25 days post-diagnosis; my darling husband, Jeff Stamps, who lived 13 months post-diagnosis with great equanimity and dignity; Nobel laureate Ralph Steinman, who lived 4.5 years post-diagnosis and was experimenting on himself with a vaccine that held potential to ameliorate this horrid disease; and, of course, the most famous of all, Steve Jobs, who lived 7 years post-diagnosis with the most rare form of the disease, which is sometimes curable.

Donations in their memories to Pancreatic Cancer Action Network.

Yay, Harris! Fiction Book Club strikes again!

So happy to report that devoted Fiction Book Club member, former CEO of Tufts Health Plan, early innovator of HMOs, head of numerous other things, father of four highly-accomplished children, grandfather of seven, husband of dynamo-author Ruth Nemzoff, and all-around wonderfully-generous-of-spirit friend is the new Dean of Tufts Medical School! Here's the official announcement.

 

Dear Colleagues:

I am pleased to announce the appointment of Dr. Harris A. Berman as Dean of the Tufts University School of Medicine. Dr. Berman has served with distinction as Dean ad interim since December 2009, and has been an outstanding leader in the University community.

As interim Dean, Dr. Berman has done much more than oversee and guide the school’s operations. He has adroitly balanced practical problem-solving with strategic thinking, and as a result, the school is noticeably stronger than it was two years ago. Dr. Berman has led efforts to develop new programs that are academically sound, build connections to other Tufts schools, help fulfill national needs for the delivery of health care, and contribute to the school’s financial stabilization.

With the recent successful recruitment of Dr. John Leong to the department of Molecular Biology and Microbiology, Dr. Berman has filled the last of several open department chair positions. He has also helped to bring in other key clinical and basic science faculty members. He has spearheaded the expansion of the Global Health Program, increasing our international reputation through collaborations with teaching and research institutions overseas. Such partnerships offer important training opportunities for our medical students pursuing work in global health care research and delivery. These accomplishments and others have re-energized the atmosphere at the school, and helped advance important University priorities.

Prior to his appointment as interim Dean, Dr. Berman was Dean of Public Health and Professional Degree Programs and had served as Chair of the Department of Public Health and Community Medicine from 2003 to 2008. Before coming to Tufts University, he was a pioneer in the development of managed care in New England, and for 17 years, served as the chief executive officer of the Tufts Health Plan. During that tenure, Tufts Health Plan grew from 60,000 to over a million members. Before joining Tufts Health Plan, he co-founded the Matthew Thornton Health Plan in Nashua, NH, one of the first HMOs in New England. He has served as chairman of the board of the Massachusetts Association of HMOs, and of the Celebrity Series of Boston. He has also been a director of the American Association of Health Plans and of Tufts Medical Center. He is currently a Commissioner for the Group Insurance Commission and a member of the Board of Directors of Tufts Medical Center, Tufts Health Care Institute, New England Healthcare Institute, The Wolfson Foundation, and Tufts Health Plan.

Dr. Berman further embodies the University’s values of active citizenship and internationalism through his experience as a Peace Corps physician in India and a consultant to the U.S. Agency for International Development on several projects. He has effectively used that experience to promote a global health agenda for the Medical School.

A graduate of Harvard College and Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons, Dr. Berman served as a resident on the Harvard Medical Service of Boston City Hospital and at Tufts-New England Medical Center, and completed an infectious disease fellowship at Tufts-New England Medical Center. He is a Fellow of the American College of Physicians.

Please join President Monaco and me in congratulating Dr. Berman on his appointment.

Sincerely,

Peggy Newell
Provost and Senior Vice President ad interim

Sylvia Nasar's 2 centuries of economic history in 4 minutes

Remember the spectacular best-seller, A Beautiful Mind? Its author, Sylvia Nasar, has a new breakthrough book coming out, Grand Pursuit: The Story of Economic Genius. The book's promotion includes this fascinating graphic-illustration video in which Sylvia recites the past 200 years of economic thinking in a breathless 4 minutes. Her new book is fascinating, blending the biographies of the major economic thinkers since the early 1800s with their big ideas using literary references as the backdrops. Am ambitious undertaking, which Sylvia, who reads more books than anyone I know, carries off brillliantly.

How do I know? This disclosure, which explains the unabashed bias in my reporting here: Sylvia was my college roommate and remains my very close friend. Pride aside, it's a really great book - and this video is wonderful:

 

 

 

 

Rebecca, The Most Influential

One more endless knot, Rebecca Eaton, on Time's 100 most influential list, for executive producing Masterpiece so spectacularly for a quarter-century...

Which gives the excuse to use this picture from our mutual friend Kate's birthday a few years back. Rebecca is standing, 1st from left; y.t. next to the birthday girl in front row.

 

 

She helped

Given our predicament, we've been on the receiving end of a great deal of kindness and generosity over the past four months. At the beginning, the kitchen counters were piled high with brownies and chocolate cakes and pies and shortbread. A favorite couple friend sent one of those elaborate fruit arrangements; another brought baked chicken; another ravioli. There was so much food that we had to buy another refrigerator, which served the dual purpose of allowing us to have enough food to serve all the people dropping by and to put out that which they'd brought.

That time has passed for the moment. As a social worker said near the beginning, a crisis only lasts for so long. "Figure four to six weeks," she predicted, and she was right. You can only tolerate that high-pitch of living for so long and then things have to return to some regularity, albeit one that doesn't feel regular with all the medical appointments, trips to the pharmacy, and suchnot.

But then out of the blue (wonder why that expression isn't "out of the black"), long after the initial crazy period has died down, something else happens.

One morning a package arrived with Amy Reece's return address. "You seem to have a book from Amy," Jeff said, handing it to me. It didn't feel like a book because it was soft (in retrospect, I guess it could have been one of those fabric books for the twins, but that didn't occur to me).

Inside something wrapped in turquoise tissue paper and tied with a lime green ribbon, along with a card in the same colors with a lovely personal note. The gift? A silky soft pale green pashmina. I love pashminas, wear them as often as I can, and, as with all women who have them, wish I had one in every color. I didn't have this color and it goes beautifully with a number of pieces I have.

I don't know how Amy knew how much I love pashminas. We've never discussed them. In fact, we've never even met face-to-face. We worked on a project together for Cisco last year, spoke a few times on the phone, clearly liked each other but I never would have expected her to know what was going on with us -- and certainly never expected a gift like this. Somehow she found out and decided to respond this way.

Here's a bit of the note I wrote Amy later that day. It says everything I'm working up to saying here:

We've received many notes, dear Amy, from people we know well and from those whom we hardly know, many of which end with "please let me know what I can do." The words that always come to mind are "find a cure for pancreatic cancer" or, in my more cynical moments, "You want me to not only deal with this but also figure out how to make you feel better about it???" I'm ashamed of those feelings, of course, but they're really there.

Every now and then - and only from our closest friends - something completely unexpected appears that sands off all that meanness in me, takes away a few moments of the pain, and makes the whole experience not worth it exactly but elevated to a level of connectedness that I've rarely experienced.

Such is your gift of kindness, my dear.

Thank you so very much, Sweet Amy. May I blog about this? I want the whole world to know who you are.

So now I'm blogging about it (she didn't object). Again, here's Amy's site. You now know how kind she is and by clicking you'll see how talented.