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Opting in

Esteemed opinion-maker and -giver, Bitch Ph.D., had this to say yesterday:

It’s okay for me to have a career–as long as my house is clean, I spend a lot of time with my kid, I give up control over where I live, I accept economic dependence (on my husband or on the Bank of America), and I live with the depression that’s surely partly the result of all these “choices.”

But the ambitious determined girl inside me says fuck that shit. I don’t accept those choices, and I’m not going to agree to compromise, and I’ll spin these decisions positively but I’m not going to pretend that I’ve got it all because I don’t. And I’m not going to accept that I’m not entitled to it all. I’m ambitious and overeducated, damnit, and I’m going to make this shit work. Somehow.

Those of you who know me in person, may have thought I wrote that. Although it’s more concise than I tend to be. I’m not depressed right at this moment, but I’ve been there. I’ve tried the positive spin on possibly staying at home so my husband can take a fabulous job, and writing as a career instead, and I see (currently!) that I’m not such a devoted writer as that. Luckily, at that point in time, it was my husband who discouraged me from that move. At the time, I saw it as his lack of confidence in my assertion that I can do anything. Now I see it as just realistic. Good thing someone has their feet on the ground.

Keep your chin up, Dr. B. My personal take is that no matter where you are in life, it’s temporary. Change will happen whether you go out and get it or you wait for it to come to you. Being proactive is more satisfying, though, and you feel like you did have a choice. I’m not so sure we have that many choices. We have a lot of consequences.

Categorized as:General

Bereavement – beginning

I see from a little tour on the Internet that I’m experiencing nearly all the classical signs of grief and bereavement. It’s very frustrating to be that unoriginal, especially when you think you have an original, indeed, unique relationship with the person who died.

Along the way, I found some “tips for friends” by a Jay Mihalko and thought I’d place them here, edited to reflect my point of view right now that I’m in the acute stages.

Relatives, friends and neighbors are supportive at the time of a death, during the wake and funeral. Food, flowers and their presence are among the many thoughtful expressions.

After the funeral, many grieving people wonder what happened to their friends. They need their support and caring even more when the reality begins to hit and the long process of grief begins: Their help is essential, since immediate family members have their hands full of grief and may find it difficult to give support to one another, or may not live nearby.

Your help and understanding can make a significant difference in the healing of your friend’s grief. A grieving person needs friends who are willing to: LISTEN; cry with them; sit with them; reminisce; care; have creative ideas for coping; be honest; help them feel loved and needed (my emphasis); believe that they will make it through their grief.

All that is necessary is a squeeze of the hand, a kiss, a hug, your presence. If you want to say something, say, “I’m sorry” or “I care”. (Although in my experience it’s kind of awkward to say precisely, I care; but the idea is right: don’t say much, and make it apparent you’re there to listen.)

  1. Offer to help with practical matters; i.e., errands, fixing food, caring for children. Say “I’m going to the store. Do you need bread, milk, etc.? I’ll get them.” It is not helpful to say, “Call me if there is anything I can do.”
  2. Don’t be afraid to cry openly if you were close to the deceased. Often the bereaved find themselves comforting you, but at the same time they understand your tears and don’t feel so alone in their grief. (This only happened twice and that was enough for me.)
  3. It is not necessary to ask questions about how the death happened. Let the bereaved tell you as much as they want when they are ready. A helpful question might be, “Would you like to talk? I’ll listen.”
  4. The bereaved may ask “WHY?” It is often a cry of pain rather than a question. It is not necessary to answer, but if you do, you may reply “I don’t know why.”
  5. Don’t use platitudes like “Life is for the living,” or “It’s God’s will.” Explanations rarely console. It is better to say nothing.
  6. Recognize that the bereaved may be angry. They may be angry at God, the person who died, the clergy, doctors, rescue teams, other family members, etc. Encourage them to acknowledge their anger and to find healthy ways of handling it.
  7. Be available to LISTEN frequently. Most bereaved want to talk about the person who has died. Encourage them to talk about the deceased. Do not change the conversation or avoid mentioning the person’s name. Depression is often part of grief. It is a scary feeling. To be able to talk things over with an understanding friend or loved one is one factor that may help prevent a person from becoming severely depressed.
  8. Read about the various phases of grief so you can understand and help the bereaved to understand.
  9. Be PATIENT. Mourning may take a long time. The bereaved need you to stand by them for as long as necessary. Encourage them to be patient with themselves as there is no timetable for grief.
  10. Be aware that a bereaved person’s self-esteem may be very low. Be aware of the use of drugs and alcohol. Medication should only be taken under the supervision of a physician. Often these only delay the grief response.
  11. It is not helpful to say, “Don’t feel guilty.” This only adds to the mourner’s negative view of themselves. They would handle it better if they could. One response could be, “I don’t think that you are guilty. You did the best you could at the time, but don’t push down your feelings of guilt. Talk about it until you can let it go.”
  12. Give special attention to the children in the family. DO NOT tell them not to cry or not to upset the adults.
  13. Be aware of the physical reactions to the death (lack of appetite, sleeplessness, headaches, inability to concentrate). These affect the person’s coping ability, energy and recovery. (This was/is SO true for me. But I’m eating again.)
  14. Don’t say, “It’s been 4 months, 6 months, 1 year, etc. You must be over it by now.” Life will never be the same.
  15. Suggest that the bereaved postpone major decisions such as moving, giving everything away, etc. Later they may regret their hasty decisions. It is best for the bereaved to keep decision making to a minimum. (A little late for me. Oh well. But good advice.)
  16. Practice unconditional love. Feelings of rage, anger and frustration are not pleasant to observe or listen to; but it is necessary for the bereaved to recognize and work on these feelings in order to work through the grief, rather than become stuck in one phase.
  17. Help the bereaved to avoid unrealistic expectations as to how they “should” feel and when they will be better. It is helpful when appropriate to say, “I don’t know how you do as well as you do.”
  18. Don’t avoid the bereaved. This adds to their loss. As the widowed often say, “I not only lost my spouse, but my friend as well.” (This has been mostly true for colleagues. But so many others are standing by that I don’t feel deprived. I just notice.)
  19. Be aware that weekends, holidays and evenings may be more difficult.

So, I’m back to my new home today, the in-laws who have been an enormous help, are leaving tomorrow, and I’ll start my routine on Friday back in Toulouse if all goes well. Meanwhile, Paris was at its most charming this morning, hazy light over the flower arrangements in the middle of the avenue de Breteuil and balmy skies.

Categorized as:General

Back to… back to…

Meaning, I’m back to everything, but not up to anything. Yesterday was overwhelming. Up and at ‘em at 6:50, a little earlier would have been better, rush the kids into their clothes and breakfast, evacuate my stress on my husband because we left the house 10 minutes later than he had said we would to get me to the airport. Seriously, I hate leaving things to the last minute for flights; if there is a car accident on the way or something like that then you sweat and worry the whole time. If I don’t have an ulcer after all of this or a nervous depression it will be astonishing.

But of course, I was on time to catch the flight to Paris, comfortably so; the kids made it to school et cetera. I got to lab around 10h45, got a coffee from my student and we caught up on some of her undertakings. Re-belote, as they say here from the card game, with my post-doc, though most of the catching up was in the afternoon. Quick lunch – sandwich outside – then invited speaker at 1PM, a previous postdoc from Jean-Paul Thiéry’s laboratory. Great stuff on breast (placode) development. My boss, S, who introduces speakers, of course could not resist a couple of jokes. The postdoc must be used to it now.

After lunch, S asked me to come with them to their sandwich lunch, so I discussed things with the postdoc and did the schmooze thing which is a pleasant part of science if you want to discuss science. I think I carried it off alright. That went until 3:30 or so. After catching up on what my postdoc’s doing (and she’s making good progress on other aspects of her undertakings, even if we’re stuck in the cloning/sequencing steps of SAGE, which we don’t understand), we went over to the other boss M’s office for a pre-conference call meeting with him.

We decided to ask to send the postdoc to our US collaborator’s lab for a month to try to overcome this problem, as they’ve succeeded with their SAGE banks on their end. After discussing a few more items along these lines, we tried to launch the conference call, but three minutes beforehand, the secretary in the US sent an email to our lab saying it needed to be pushed off 45 minutes. Our collaborator is undergoing some serious medical treatment and apparently her appointment had gone over. So that was alright, but that meant the conference call was at 5:15 or so, it went until 6:25 and the postdoc and I then had to go to another meeting about the microarrays at the Institut Curie at 6:30!

I said, let’s catch a cab, and when the second bus came by the stand twenty minutes later, we took that instead. Unfortunately, as Institut Curie is in the middle of the old part of the Latin Quarter, there are no buses or metro lines that go nearby. We ran up to the meeting, which still had not begun – we were the last, but there were other latecomers and the projector wasn’t working. By the time everyone’s phones starting ringing around 9PM with irate family members demanding where we all were, the meeting was ready to break up. Everyone was a little grumpy, as the other group had manipulated some precious material we had provided in some manner that it was completely degraded and useless, but naturally they think we gave it to them already in bad shape. Among other things.

I made it back to my sister-in-law’ apartment after an hour and no dinner, scarfed down a yogurt, and was in my nephew’s bed by 10:30, exhausted and somewhat demoralized. Next week will surely be better.

Categorized as:General

Look what I found!

When I was proposing a topic to Lena, the subjects I brought up as potential posts could be loosely grouped under the unoriginal heading, “Woman in Science” (me – blogs are navel-picking). I then thought that reading a blog with the title “Man in Science” might put me off, and that perhaps I’d like to blather about issues not related to my gender, and others might, too, so I suggested something longer than and including “Humans in Science”, but that is how it ended up. Well,…

Someone thought of it first. All due respect and my encouragement to peruse the website (especially you, Pete!):

http://www.humansinscience.org

And for a smile, a bitter one? take a look at Ask Dr. Bridget’s NextWave column. Problem number 3 particularly resonated with me. In the dark days of (permanent) job hunting, when I was wondering how and when rather than if I would leave science, I would try to comfort myself with the thought that I might be qualified to pour tar to repave streets if I couldn’t get another job, although I have no experience, but at least a CV wouldn’t be required. Because to be manager at McDonald’s, the French consider that my diplomas disqualify me, and that it is far better to demand a salary commensurate with one’s education than to be unemployed altogether. At least you keep your dignity. Dignity, be damned, I just want to pay the sky-high rent in Paris, thought I at the time.

The same columnist wrote an essay about depression that was very well-done. Have a look at Even Scientists Get the Blues. Heck, we’re all humans, right?

Now that I am looking for her columns, may I recommend Dr Bridget’s New Years Resolutions (even if it’s two New Years later?). I’m going to try to contact her and see if she won’t want to write for us a little, too.

Okay, I’ve done my research, and Dr. Arney (“Bridget”’s real name) ALSO has worked with the excellent and funny Naked Scientists, who are apparently related to a fair number of Science Advisory Board’s members, given the nature of the forum discussions. I couldn’t get the radio stream to work, though – perhaps they’re off the air? Well, they’re still on Internet in any case. And no, you’ll not find any photos of Dr Bridget naked on this site.

Not even Renee Zellweger.

I really don’t feel like buckling down to work today.

But hey – my husband was able to bring the kids to piano lessons today, I wasn’t about to waste a free evening doing something fun, was I? No, much better to stay in lab. At least it sort of paid off in the SAGE technique, I’ve made it to letter B now and I didn’t have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out. At some point, though, I’d better stop playing on the blog and get around to preparing that course in perinatal vascular development (more about that later).

Night night.

Categorized as:General