Remembering my psychopathic clients

As we know, at least two things are true.

If you have eggs in the house, you won't go hungry.

And if you've got a computer, you won't be bored.

I've just spent some time learning about sociopaths. Bob Gordon, PhD, who we interviewed in last year's Compass has a terrific website you can go to here.

I clicked on his YouTube videos and reaquainted myself with them.

When I worked as a therapist at the now-defunct Bristol-Bensalem Human Services I had a number of psychopaths - now known as antisocial personalities - for clients.

Rathan seeing them as individual clients, I put them into groups I ran.

These people weren't very successful cuz they all got caught early in their careers. They're probably still out there breaking the law. As Bob Gordon says, they promise to change but never do.

One guy, who was a pedophile, couldn't be in a group cuz he had a day job, so I saw him after work. He smelled awful so I told him that the next time he came in he should wear deodorant.

He did. He looked real sharp. I saw him one other time and then he never came back again.

I reported him to his probation officer who never got back to me. Too many people on his caseload, I suppose.

Those were the days! Judy Diaz in the next room. Greg Perri down the hall. Linda Cleighton at the front desk. Two hour lunch hours, many spent walking thru Resurrection Cemetery where Simon had a brother buried under a rock, and a pair of working kidneys.

Finished Editor's Corner

The toughest part of the Compass is the Editor's Corner. I worked on it for about a week, then emailed it to Sarah for her opinion. 'Powerful but dark' is what she said.

When she was in town on Thursday we talked about my potential kidney transplant while we were still at Einstein Hospital. Sarah had been there all day and had seen various incompetencies which she recounted on her blog.

Mom, what would you like to eat after your transplant?

As you know, I'm a strict diet - low protein, phosphorus, potassium, and sodium.

Don't mind my salivating now, Pavlov, as I write my list - CAPS indicate forbidden food

mashed POTATOES with garlic

spaghetti sauce with TOMATOES

sliced fresh MANGO

homemade WHOLE WHEAT bread

ORANGE slices

BANANANANANAS

carton of YOGURT w/crunch topping

But it's mostly the spaghetti with meatballs and tomato sauce I'm looking f/w to.

We asked Radi Zaki (photo in previous post) about the lifespan of the kidney donor. Swedish studies, he said, show they live longer than their non-donor counterparts. I asked why. B/c they are selected for their good health. Not everyone passes muster. Only the truly fit are eligible to donate.

The last transplant done at Einstein by my team - Radi and Stalin - was a liver transplant.

Sarah asked if they were tempted to eat it.

They laffed and said they'd lose their jobs if they did. No Hannibal Lechters they.

Sarah suggested I eat lots of liver and kidney to cure my conditions - 'like curing like' - homeopathy, which is a crock.

Scott and I watched the 1953 movie Ivanhoe last nite, the largest grossing film of that year, and starring Robert Taylor (my dad's favorite actor) and Elizabeth Taylor as Rebecca the Jewess. Great film! Made by MGM, it was a joint US-Great Britain production, a strategy pioneered by the newly deceased Dino deLaurentiis to increase film revenues.

Gee, I wish there were one person who read this blog overseas. Raise your hand if that's you.

Post-Einstein Appointment

Cleveland's Wade Park

It's always a sobering experience driving down to Einstein Hospital here in Philadelphia and focusing on one topic only: my failing kidneys.

As I near the total shut-off of these vital organs, I contemplate my demise. Fear? Not really. I think of death as simply a very long sleep. I'm comforted that my kids and their families will be inhabiting the earth - and also that millions of other wonderful people who love life and appreciate life - especially one's first college years, which I so much enjoyed - will be alive and contributing to our planet.

What's to fear?

I spent hours last nite watching several Frontline documentaries. I particularly enjoyed learning about how we got into the war in Iraq, the intense power struggle that went on in the Bush White House and how Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld prevailed with their carefully woven web of lies as the might of America destroyed this once cradle of civilization.

But look! Here comes the sun over Charley's house. It's 7:45 a.m. I'm gonna listen to A Love Supreme by John Coltrane and start my new library book - Heat and Dust - by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala - A German Jewish woman who married an Indian architect - and became the screenwriter for the Merchant-Ivory movies.

Her book is fiction. Already on page 5, she has a wonderful line I'd like to quote for you:

And through it all I've learned one thing: you can't live in India without Christ Jesus. If he's not with you every single moment of the day and night and you praying to Him with all your might and main - if that's not there, then you become like that poor young man with the monkey taking lice out of your hair. Because you see, dear, nothing human means anything here. Not a thing, she said, with the contempt of any Hindu or Buddhist for all this world might have to offer.

Seize the day while your kidneys work!

And be sure to read my daughter Sarah's tragicomic post about our day at Einstein.

Einstein day or You mean, it's only 8 pm?

What a long day! This is transplant surgeon Radi Zaki, MD. The man is young, 42, according to the Internet, and graduated from Cairo University.

The other surgeon, Stalin Campos, 46, from El Salvador, poked his head in the door. I asked him when he performed his last transplant.

Sunday nite, he said.

Is the patient still alive? I asked.

Yes, he said, knocking on the door frame.

This is Paige Lockwood, RN, nurse coordinator, a really great gal who calls everyone 'sweetie.'

Sarah came in early in the morning for tests as a possible donor.

Dan drove me to Einstein. He brought a book in case he got bored: Dive in with Python, a programming language.

I promised Scott I would watch Frontline tonite, the show about the forced confessions to a rape and murder. He wants my opinion about the suspects. One of them is from nearby Warminster, PA.

I'll watch it on my new laptop. I have two weeks to decide whether or not to return it. I like it. Scott's got my old Dell.

I swear I was working when the phone rang....

Judy Kroll. Note Carl Yeager's Pink Tulip I bought at his show at Moss Rehab in Elkins Park, PA.

Indeed I was listening to Brahms' Symphony No. 1 on WRTI-FM and working on the difficult Editor's Corner and Judy Kroll was calling me.

I'm on your street, she said, calling from her carmine-red mini-van.

Which house is it?

Yellow house, I said from my bed, where I was tapping away on my new Acer.

Oh, I see it, she said. I'm there!

Sure enough, larger-than-life Judy Kroll pulled up and parked out front.

You look great, Judy, I said, limping out to meet her. You lost weight!

Judy is a champion bike rider and got her husband and 9-yo son Max involved in riding. The man who inspired her to ride recently died which shook her up. He was only 47. On account of that, she's making out her Bucket List.

I have only one thing on my list - a desire to visit The Grand Canyon of Pennsylvania, near the border of New York.

I told Judy that bar none my favorite years were when I was a stay-home mom taking care of Sarah and Dan. I did this in Giddings, TX; Austin, TX; and then Huntingdon Valley, PA, and Upper Moreland PA.

Judy agreed. "Max gets me," she said of her son. On her Blackberry she showed me a short video of his playing a Beatles tune, w/o looking at the music.

Judy has more chutzpah than any woman I know. And that's good! In August, she and her family visited the Rock n Roll Museum in Cleveland. I only saw the outside of it but hopefully I'll go back.

She mentioned Cedar Point in Sandusky OH.

Cedar Point! I said. You mean it's still there! It was an amusement park we went to as kids.

In August, Judy, Barry and Max went to the Grand Canyon in Arizona. Here they are at the very bottom with the brown muddy Colorado River.

Take me there someone, take me there.

A quick procrastinary maneuver and then a'Compassin

This, the blog, is the procrastination.

Tomro I have an important Kidney appointment. I'll meet the whole Einstein Hospital team - Dr Arraya, the nephrologist (we have no idea how to spell this word), plus the head of the Transplant Program, Radi Zaki, MD. Hopefully he's an MD and not a quack.And I'll see my beloved Paige Lockwood, nurse coordinator.

So, I finished the Jane Fonda autobiography: My Life So Far, written in 2005. Excellent! Yes, I know she was just on Oprah. Jane Fonda is an absolutely wonderful and honest woman. Sometimes I check her blog which is off to your Right.

Because of her involvement with Vietnam, it reminded me that many years ago I wrote a newspaper article about the artist Minh Hang who hailed from Vietnam. The story was so good I got it in the Inquirer.

I'd gone to a local art gallery and stood transfixed in front of some charcoal drawings done by a teenager named Minh Hang. The gallery owner put me in touch with him and I drove over to the Main Line where he had been 'adopted' by a Jewish family. He was completing art school.

While I was interviewing Minh, I began to get psychotic. I'd already been diagnosed with manic depression, and for some reason, my psychosis was breaking thru.

Knowing me, I undoubtedly had my pills with me and took some Haldol to stop the psychosis.

I did manage to write a beautiful article. When I showed it to Minh, he said, It's so simple. You didn't use any big words.

Sure, it was just the story of a young man's life and coming of age.

After reading the Fonda book, I googled Minh Hang and found him. He's living in Georgia and still creating art. Find him here.

Surprise phone call! - Hello Haraan!

I was upstairs in bed a'Compassing when the phone rang.

It was none other than Roberto Hernando Cartagena, former husband of my sister Donna, and father of Melissa and Nikki, two of the most sublimely beautiful women, inside and out, you've ever met.

Sunday nite was Melissa's 40th birthday party held in some Manhattan pad. Herman, as we've always called him, had been talking on the rooftop after the party, and my daughter Sarah told him about my kidney problems.

Herman was very concerned and wanted me to try all sorts of alternative treatments, but I explained to him, the only thing that will help me is getting a new kidney.

Herman is originally from Ecuador. He and his family are educators, having worked in NYC schools. Daughter Nikki followed in his footsteps as a teacher. Melissa missed that calling and shocked us all when she announced many years ago she wanted to be a dentist. And is.

Last year Scott drove us all to Long Island for her wedding where Sarah officiated as minister. I can still see it in my mind's eye.

Since I'm still not driving, Scott drove me to the AT and T store to buy a new charger. This handsome young man - Haraan - sold it to me. His name is a combo of some important people in his life.

View of life from the backseat where I rode on my belly. First time I ever looked at the roof of my car. It looked soft as lambs' wool but when I touched it, it was PLASTIC. Oh, you know these Mercedes.

Scott and I watched a terrific movie - A Perfect World, directed by Clint Eastwood in 1993, and starring Kevin Costner as an escaped con and beautiful gutsy Laura Dern as a criminologist. Eastwood didn't want a role in the film but Costner prevailed on him so he played a lawman out to get Costner.

Riveting film with good characterization. Costner took a 7-yo boy hostage who was played extremely well by TJ Lowther. There's nothing worse than a poor child actor, but TJ was excellent.

Quick, can you name some other child actors? Brandon de Wilde, soft-voiced Margaret O'Brien, Liz Taylor, Mickey Rooney, Jackie Cooper. Whew! The mind works sometimes.

Scott only slept thru bits n pieces of i=the film, as he's constantly catching up on his sleep. Maybe after he retires in 10 years, he'll be able to sleep a week straight without looking at his watch and saying, Somebody's gotta go to work around here.