I always wanted to be a social worker. I got an undergraduate degree in psychology, but I still didn't have the needed credentials to be a professional helper after my littlest girl began first grade and I felt I could go to work. So I went back to school at UW Madison and got a master's degree in social work.
I shed a few tears at the sad stories and cheered the victories. I understood that emotional problems could hurt as much as physical ones, and often both were tied together.
I am now a "helpee." And I think I am absolutely in love with my entire medical team. They are quite a group. My angelic Physician's Assistant listens to my many quirks and works with my busy primary physician. I have an oncologist who is very honest and serious, and sometimes I find it a challenge to make him smile. The nurse who checked my blood for thinness would ask how I was doing and often she'd be on the phone to the primary physician or I was on my way for lab work. I had to use an oncall doctor a couple of weeks ago and met the most energetic, happiest (and I think youngest) doctor I've ever known, one of those people who make you feel better just by entering the room. And I have a special nurse who seeks me out to see how I am doing.
And just like we said at our mental health center, treatment began the moment the person entered the building. Patients were to be greeted warmly and with respect. That happens in my new role as helpee also. One day the person at the desk excitedly came to show me a picture of some adorable little girls in white veils, just having received their first communion, and she and my daughter were smiling sweetly in the photo from long ago.
I could go on, and I do not mean to leave anyone out. It isn't all technology or drugs or procedures, but problem solving and listening and providing care and comfort.
And for a small moment here, I'm going to mention something dear to my heart, I know my Medicare and good insurance could disappear at any time, and I want everyone in this country to have the technology and care I have. Our constitution talks about equality for all and I don't want anyone to miss what they need in medical care. None of these helping medical professionals have multi-million dollar salaries. Many have nice homes, send their kids to college, maybe have a pontoon boat for weekend cruises on the Wisconsin River. I'm not being naive that every pay raise isn't welcomed, but I know having been a helper that for all these people there is sharing the joy when someone gets better, knowing they've participated in saving a life.
The survival rate for cancer patients would increase if all could get the medical care they needed. And lives of those with little hope could be enriched. I know it can be figured out and I know we all are part of the care provided and the solution to problems.
Right now I'm being thankful for what I have. I get depressed and discouraged, but then four-year-olds and their fathers come and cheer me up and the Packers win and friends call, and tonight a grandson is coming to help decorate the tree.
Love, Carol
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