Democratization of Journalism

When Elena Kagan was nominated to the Supreme Court last spring, I thought amusingly that I should write a blog about how hard it is for mothers to become Supreme Court justices.  At the time I was probably busy being sick (which incidentally has not really deterred my hero, Justice Ginsberg, from serving), so I let that blog idea slide.  Within a week or so, there was an article, which I cannot find now, that addressed my thought with the appropriate stats about how competitive it is for younger women lawyers now and almost impossible to rise to the top in law if you are a mother.  Then came the articles calling for a mother on the Supreme Court, e.g the one in the Washington Post.  Today, with Kagan's confirmation imminent, the issue has been examined again in the NYTimes, again with stats showing the difficulty for mothers to make it in business.

All of this leads me to think more about the role of blogs and what appears to me to be the democratization of journalism.  More than once, I have blogged about an issue that later appears in MSM as an article.  I have seen it happen in other blogs.  And some times, blogs present information that MSM does not even cover. Witness the front page article in Time Magazine this week and the critiques of its message in blogs.

My point is that with the internet and so many smart and educated people blogging, some news stories in MSM are behind the times.  Of course, there are still stories for those news outlets that can afford them where the correspondent travels internationally and writes on topics not readily available to the masses on the internet.  But unfortunately those stories seem to be becoming rarer.  And to the extent that blogs rely on sources from the internet rather than investigative journalism, there is always the problem of accuracy of those sources.  So as in governance, democratization may lead to less excellent results.

And, as irony would have it, someone, perhaps Jay Rosen, has probably already written about this issue, in more depth and with more thoughtfulness. I do, after all, have a day job.  And children.  And grandchildren.

Half the Sky; Wholly Inspirational

This book is a must read for the 21st century.  I hope it has the impact of a Silent Spring or Uncle Tom's Cabin, i.e. to start a movement to end the horrors that women face in most of the world--sex trafficking, death of infant girls, death in childbirth, fistulas, rape, physical abuse by husbands, fathers and brothers as a matter of right.

The book inspired me to take action.  I am sponsoring a woman through Women for Women International and am looking at another organization that works against sex trafficking, which enslaves more women annually than Africans were enslaved during the mid 19th century.  The book is difficult to read at times because the stories and the statistics are so brutal but Kristof and WuDunn give us hope by showing that good outcomes are possible.  They recommend a number of ways to take action, which seems inevitable in the face of such horror for so many women.

I'll Be Back

My hair is returning in an interesting salt and pepper shade.  It is still very very short but "punk chic" looking as one of my colleagues said.

My elbow is still injured--the result of repetitive movement and muscles weakened by chemo.  I am doing physical therapy and wearing a wrist brace.  I have been avoiding this blog because of the pain from typing.

I have been back to work for six weeks which I just realized means that I can start doing some ab exercises since my last surgery was also over 6 weeks ago.   I promise myself to exercise every day but I don't.  Mostly I sleep on the weekends.  That too will stop at some point.

Work has been interesting and challenging.  I am working on learning more about our business again and continuing to hone my skills and knowledge in the internet space.  I am also being brought into new areas which require me to stop coasting and start paddling.  After many years of indifference, I find myself excited about some aspects of work again.  I am building something, I believe, and that is exciting. (Sorry about the mixed metaphor!)

I have been reading a lot and want to return to the blogging I did before I became ill but I have been hesitant to type for long.  So I wanted to assure all you readers (all three of you!) that I will be back soon to  more frequent blogging and the subject will not be cancer or chemo.  I may still talk about grappling with one's mortality, but even that is mostly in "da Nile" (again with the bad metaphor!)

Survivor- The Unscripted Reality Show of My Life

My saga with chemotherapy is coming to a close-- for now.  I am getting back some strength finally and hope to go back to work next week after I have the port removed from my abdomen.  So all that is left for now is the quarterly checkups and the ongoing fear that maybe the cancer will come back.

I have said here before that I am a big believer in statistics and even though I understand that statistics do not predict the individual case, I am always taken aback when I see the stats on recovery from ovarian cancer.  In short, the numbers are not all that good.  In the NYT this morning a hopeful headline about a new treatment for ovarian cancer led me to read the article with anticipation.  Unfortunately, my focus when reading the article was not the "hopeful" outcome but instead the median times for the cancer to "worsen" after chemotherapy--a surprisingly short 10+ change months for the control group who, like me, received standard chemo after surgery.  Holy "bleep"!  If I am "average", my cancer will be back in less than a year!  I understand  the arguments why that may not be true in my individual case--I responded well to surgery and chemo, I had stage 3A cancer, not stage 3C or stage 4 where tumors have spread and/or cannot be fully debulked, I am younger and healthier than the average ovarian cancer patient etc.  Still I cannot help flinching at the stats which never cease to surprise me at how bad this particular cancer is.

In another albeit older NYT article I found today, a study found that monitoring CA125 levels every three months did not improve survival rates for ovarian cancer.  Huh?  In fact, the head of my gyn-onc group at Cedars was quoted in the article as saying that the group would reconsider how frequently to test CA 125 levels in light of the study.  Apparently my doctor did not get the memo or new evidence changed their mind because I was told that I had to come back every three months to check CA 125 levels.  The article was also interesting in that some patients apparently want to have their levels checked because it gives them the illusion of control in an inherently unpredictable situation.  I can understand that justification for the test although if it does not matter to chances of survival I could do without the anxiety of the blood test and waiting for the results, thank you very much.

I have faced the issue of stats before when I read a critique of the proposed protocol for my chemo treatment right before I started chemo.  The critique found flaws in the study design that led to the National Cancer Institute recommending IP chemo with cisplatin and taxol for ovarian cancer.  "More study is needed", the critique stated.  I agreed with the critique and then ignored the analysis and underwent the IP delivered chemo protocol anyway.  Why?  Because my doctor thinks it works and he has made his life treating patients like me.  Statistics and study design do not matter when you have put your life in the hands of your oncologist.  You just feel happy when the CA 125 levels keep going down and hopefully stay down.

So as I start my "normal" life again I have all these fears about the future and yet I keep reminding myself that the stats do not matter to me as the individual.  I will survive as long as I am going to survive.

ADDENDUM:  After I published this post I realized that as I close my chemo saga, I still have to get back my hair.  It continues to bug me that I do not have hair but the fact that I did not mention it when I was recalling what was left now to get back to normal after chemo obviously shows that I have shifted my focus a bit.

Another Dog Gone: RIP Chase 4/1/95 - 4/24/10

We lost our dog Chase on Saturday, about 9 months after we lost his life long companion, Sara. Chase was an Australian Shepherd mix that we adopted at the end of the summer in 1995. My son, then 11, had wanted a dog and like the overachieving mom I am, I told him he could get one if he did a research paper for me on what breeds did what so we could make an intelligent decision. He surprised me and did the research paper so when he wanted to go to a pet store to look at a dog his friend had seen I kept my part of the bargain.

We walked into the store and saw a small dog, obviously an older puppy, with grey and white fur and steel blue eyes. It was love at first sight for all of us. The pup had been rescued from living on the streets by a teenage girl who worked at the pet shop. She said that she had named him "Chasen" because he was always chasin' things around. I should have known then but love makes you blind so we piled him into our car and began our 15 year adventure of dog ownership which eventually included two other dogs--Sara and Novella.

We decided to call him Chase for short and took him home to begin the task of training a high energy dog. One of the first things Chase did was bound through the house, jump on my bed and pee all over it. So we moved him outdoors and got a kennel to work on house training him. I also signed him up for dog training classes and wound up doing two sessions to work on his boundless enthusiasm for running wherever he wanted.

Chase was a very smart dog. He was great at doing tricks we learned at the dog classes and even greater in ignoring me when he did not want to do what I wanted. After all he was the alpha dog and no amount of persuasion was going to change that.

My son and daughter were convinced that Chase was part wolf because he howled at us from time to time. He was clearly a  shepherd (we thought part German and part Australian) because he took pleasure in herding people and small animals. In particular, he saw it as his duty to chase any small animal he came across, including our cats. One time he got one of our cats who was a bit slow and started to shake her while holding her by the neck. Luckily I was able to get him to drop her and the vet was able to repair her. She did not venture in the yard again when Chase was there.

We took Chase to the dog park once and Chase somehow got a large group of dogs to start fighting with each other. The owners of the other dogs got hysterical and ran into the fighting pack to pull out their dogs. I whistled for Chase and, for once, he came immediately (after all, his instigation work was done) and we all hightailed it out of there.

Chase went hiking in Palos Verdes for several years off leash with a pack run by a young man named Paul. Paul sent us a Christmas card one year with a picture of Chase running on the hiking path. You have never seen a happier dog. Unfortunately Chase developed a problem with his hip which affected the movement of his rear legs. The vet recommended that we not let Chase hike anymore. At the end, Chase was clearly having a lot of pain from that hip problem and his hind legs. He stopped moving, eating and drinking. And he was the equivalent of 100 human years old.

My son had to take Chase to the vet for that sad, last trip while my husband and I were away this past weekend. I am sorry that I did not get a chance to say goodbye. Chase, I will miss you. You were a good dog.

Four Questions (not the Passover kind)

I realize I have not posted for over a month.  I got to the point in the past month that I really had nothing to say other than to whine about how sick I was.  Cycle 4 was particularly bad.  My doctor took pity on me and changed the protocol.  Instead of 6 infusions per cycle, I now only have one and it is by IV only.  I am half way through cycle 5 under this new protocol and feel significantly better although still not well.  I am physically weak--fatigued and easily out of breath with the smallest activity. (Think walking up the stairs, or lifting up the comforter).  I am 30 pounds lighter but with very little muscle.  I still have nausea but not anywhere as severe as the earlier cycles.  Next month is my last cycle and then a recovery period to try to build up my strength before I return to work in mid-June.  Then my life begins again, although with this pesky problem of not knowing if and when the cancer will come back.

So what have I been doing?  Watching TV, reading magazines and generally, as my friend Carol said about herself, whimpering a lot.  I spend a lot of time just in quietude trying to live in the moment.  And some of the TV and reading I have done looks at psychological process for addressing negative thoughts which, of course, tend to fly around when you have cancer.

One show I watched on PBS was Daniel Amen's Magnificent Mind At Any Age.  In the show, Amen talks about his idea that you can defeat automatic negatives thoughts (cutely called ANTS) by addressing four questions.  A blog by Walter Reade lays out these questions:

Here’s a technique that Dr. Amen gives to help you decide whether or not you should believe these thoughts. Ask yourself these four questions:

1. Is the thought true?

2. Can I absolutely know that it’s true?

3. How do I react when I believe that thought?

4. Who would I be without the thought? Or how would I feel if I didn’t have the thought?

Once you answer the four questions, take the original thought and completely turn it around to its opposite (for example, “I’ll never be successful” becomes “I will be successful”) and ask yourself the same four questions!

Yesterday I was reading an article in Oprah Magazine by a woman with stage 4 breast cancer who interviewed a woman named Byron Katie.  Interestingly Byron Katie also has four questions to address negative thoughts.  From her website :

The Four Questions

In its most basic form, The Work consists of four questions and a turnaround. For example, the first thought that you might question on the above Worksheet is "Paul doesn't listen to me." Find someone in your life about whom you have had that thought, and let's do The Work. "[Name] doesn't listen to me":

 Is it true?

 Can you absolutely know that it's true?

 How do you react, what happens, when you believe that thought?

 Who would you be without the thought?

Then turn it around (the concept you are questioning), and don't forget to find three genuine, specific examples of each turnaround.

Look familiar?  Interestingly,  Katie claims to have created these four questions, which she calls "The Work" in 1986.  She also claims to have discovered The Work all at once as a revelation which transformed her.  Amen on the other hand seems to have come more recently to these 4 questions.  I am not aware whether he credits Katie for the questions in his books.  He does not in his lectures for PBS.  And it would appear from his CV  that he was studying hypnosis in 1986.  

Leaving aside the origins of the 4 questions,  it would seem that both of these people are part of the positive thinking movement that Barbara Ehrenreich disdains. (See my December 6 blog entry )  I am a bit more sympathetic to positive thinking these days since negativity does not help when you have cancer.  I just think you need to be realistic.  Positive thoughts may not stop my cancer (notwithstanding what the Wellness Community believes) but it will make my life more in the present, no matter how much time I have left.  Under the circumstances, I am not sure I can do anything else.

Life Interrupted

I am now reaching the end of cycle 3 and the supposed half point of this ordeal called chemotherapy.  This cycle has had some new challenges.  I was much sicker during the first two weeks than in earlier cycles. Nausea and vomiting seem to become a constant companion.  Then I woke up last Wednesday with a pain in my right calf.  I thought at first I had somehow pulled a muscle (which is hard to imagine since I do not do any exercise) or perhaps had a form of a charlie horse, which I was getting a lot last year.  But then, I looked down at my right leg and realized it was swollen to twice the size of my other leg.  Time to call the doctor.

I called the number I was given and then was transferred to an automated answering service for my doctor's practice.  Eventually, after telling people that, no I am not part of their clinic but just a regular patient, I talked to a person who took down my name, my symptoms and promised to have a nurse call back.  After a half hour, I decided to do some research on the internet to figure out what this problem might be.  Unfortunately it looked like it might be a blood clot which can be pretty life ending if a piece winds up near your heart.  So after another hour of waiting, I called back the doctor's office and mentioned I was still waiting for a call back.  The person who answered this time said that everyone (!) was at the clinic and I might not get a call back until after 5 p.m., another 4 hours. So I decided to mention that I thought I had a blood clot.  Like Groucho's magic word, the bird came down and a nurse called me back in 10 minutes.  Then I spent the next 4-5 hours getting an ultrasound and being wheeled around the hospital because I could not walk anymore.  Finally after 6 p.m. I saw the doctor on call with the results of the ultrasound--a blood clot that went the entire length of my leg.  They gave me a shot and consulted about whether to admit me but then decided to send me home with a prescription for Lovenox for at least the next 3 months.

So I have been dutifully giving myself these blood thinner shots for 5 days and keeping my leg propped up as much as I can.  However, I still cannot walk so we canceled our end of cycle trip to Santa Barbara, which is our effort to have some normal time during this overwhelming abnormal 5 months. Now instead I am just hanging out waiting for cycle 4 to start this Thursday.  A little disappointing but better than having my heart stop.

I have to keep remembering when I feel sorry for myself that nothing is normal these days and my life has been interrupted big time, that there are far worse things that could happen.  In my own life, there could still be dangerous complications to the surgery, the cancer and the chemo.  And in the past week I have read of the deaths of 2 young women--one a 13 year old who died after being hit by a car and the other a 20 year old college junior who died this weekend for reasons unknown.  These deaths happened to children of people whose lives on the surface seemed perfect.  Both young women attended prominent schools and lived comfortable lives where they could spend their leisure time learning dance or theater.  Each of these children have grieving parents whose lives are now not just interrupted but forever altered.  I think I will call my 20 year old and tell her I love her.