Poetry and Medicine Conference: May 21-23 Duke

Spring is in the air when all good pilgrims make their way to conferences! Can you tell I have been teaching Canterbury Tales this year? I am looking forward to finishing teaching in April and moving onto conference season! And I am most excited about our upcoming…

Poetry and Medicine Conference at Duke!  Life Lines: Poetry for our Patients, Our Communities and Ourselves will offer methods and ideas for incorporating poetry into healthcare in both medical and community settings. We have some amazing presenters lined up: poet Jane Hirschfield, David Whyte, editor of Bellvue Litearature and Medicine: Danielle Ofiri, Francis Neelon, MD, Alan Shaprio, former piedmont lautreate Jaki Shelton Greene and poet Kate Daniels to name a few. After each presentation, we will break out into small groups to discuss each presentation,  to exchange ideas from our experience and to explore new intersections of poetry and medicine. Here is the conference website if you would life to have a look:

http://www.duke.edu/web/lifelines/

Reading this Thursday: McIntyre’s Book

I would love to see you at my reading this Thursday at 7:00 at McIntyre’s Books in Fearrington Village. I will be reading from When They Tell Me. I have the honor of reading with poet, Rhett Trull, editor of Cave Wall Poetry Magazine.

So You’ve been reading the blog, come hear the poems!

If you would like to hear some the poems that are companion pieces for the pieces on my blog, please come to one of my upcoming readings:

October 17, 7:15pm

West End Poetry Festival

Carrboro Century Hall, 100 North Greensboro St, Carrboro, NC

October 19, 10:30am–noon

TEACCH Mothers’ Support Group: Journaling the Journey

Chapel Hill TEACCH Center 100 Renee Lynne Court Carrboro, NC

October 22, 7pm

McIntyre’s Fine Books

2000 Fearrington Village Center, Pittsboro NC

Poetry and Medicine Conference

Okay, so I am straying away from my companion pieces to my poems, but there are so many exciting things brewing right now in the world of literature and medicine, that I have to step back into my present…or future as is the case here. Future as in next May 21st through 23, 2010. Mark your calendars for the second Poetry and Medicine conference at Duke Medical Center. The official title is: Life Lines, Poetry for Our Patients, Our Communities and Ourselves. The keynote speakers will be David Whyte and Jane Hirschfield. I’ll keep you posted on the details, but for now, mark your calendars and spread the word! You can leave comments here if you want to ask about it.

Marcy Brenner of Dead Girl Walking: 10/09/09

In addition to writing, I direct the literary arts program for patients and staff at Duke.  Part of this program includes a discussion group each Friday. I wanted to let you know about our guest speaker this Friday and invite you to come:

Breast cancer survivor, Marcy Brenner, will be at Duke Medical Center this Friday. Marcy and her husband will perform their music at 10:30 am on the courtyard of the hospital to be followed at noon by a viewing of the documentary film, Dead Girl Walking in the Rauch Conference Room, 15103 Morris Building.  I pulled this off Marcy’s website:

A fresh “insanely positive” perspective on the challenges of a cancer diagnosis.  Truly a “hand in the dark” for those who face a life-threatening illness.“If I was offered a deal to go back in time and live my life
without cancer, and all I would
have to give up was the insights, experience
and purpose that have come to me as a result,
I would not make that bargain.  I was given a wake-up call to life.” 

Marcy Brenner was diagnosed with breast cancer the same year she lost her mother to ovarian cancer.  She was 34.  This is her story from the brink of despair to being truly alive.  This film is for breast cancer survivors and their partners, for spiritual seekers and for anyone whose life has been touched by a life-threatening illness.

 

                            (Marcy Brenner, Relay for Life Keynote)

 

I have watched the film trailer on Marcy’s site, http://www.deadgirlwalking.net/THE_FILM.html and found it to be uplifting and empowering.

Marcy and her husband are professional muscians who were recently featured in the film, Nights in Rondanthe.

Both events are free and open to the public.  For more info: 684-6223. I hope you will join us!

Early Intervention II

All of the children in the group were challenged in some way, either through a physical handicap or through cognitive delays. But no matter the disability, these children still seemed to grasp the ideas of “play” and “group.”  The boy with cerebral palsy crawled across the floor for contact and was able to engage his peers whether he could walk or not. All of them moved in and out of play, gathering in two’s or three’s to stack pots and pans in the kitchen, cradling dolls and putting them to bed, stacking blocks,  rolling balls, just doing what children do. At circle time, those who could sing, joined along, those who could not, provided percussion or rocked, but somehow they all connected with the song and through the song to one another.  All except for my daughter.

My daughter who orbited the room. Orbited slowly if left alone, but who picked up her pace if any child or teacher came near. My daughter who did not so much play with toys as cling to them, clutching a tiny giraffe or block in her fisted hand.  Who might pick up a car, but instead of rolling it, would stand for a full half hour opening and closing its tiny doors, the repetitive motion never losing its allure. My daughter who paced the playground, stroking its fenced perimeter with her open palm. My daughter who crawled into the play tube, but then just stopped half way through, with no intention of ever returning to the hub-pub of the class. My daughter who would hardly even sit at the activity table, who shook her fingers free of glue, who refused to grasp a crayon.

But also my daughter who at eighteen months picked out Twinkle-Twinkle Little Star on the tiny play-piano. Who, while she was playing, might let you approach, draw up to her side as she plinked out her song. Who could play back any simple melody you played. Who found her one companion, the music she carried away from the keys to where she sat alone cupping notes in her hands , rocking to their memory. Who could say what music swam in her head and what she sang there?

Welcome to my Blog!

Greetings!

On this blog you will find companion pieces to the poems in my last book of poems WhenThey Tell Me, as well as tips for families raising children with special needs and news about the literary arts and arts in health care.  When They Tell Me narrates my experience raising a daughter on the autism spectrum and the companion pieces give additional insights and resources. The pieces are in chronological order, so if you want to start at the beginning, scroll to the bottom of this page and go to NEXT PAGE. Then scroll down again to come to the first entry.  Let me know what you think!

Early Intervention Playgroup I

As the months went by, my daughter’s issues added up. First the developmental delays to the failure to thrive to the speech delay.  In addition, there was the troubling fact that she showed no interest in toys or play and very little curiosity in the world around her.

She was receiving therapies, but was there more to offer?  I called my case worker to see what else I might do to support my daughter. I soon learned that being the parent of a child with newly diagnosed delays was like being a patron trying to order in a restaurant with no menu. My conversations with my first case worker went something like this:

Me: What kind of services might you offer my daughter with developmental delays?

Case worker: Well, what would services would you like for your daughter to receive?

Me: I don’t know what services you offer. My daughter has a speech delay and is still not walking at twenty months.

Case worker: Well, I can’t help you with services until I know what you want.

Me: Well, what is available?

Case worker: Well, what do you want?

As was often the case in those early years, I managed to find what I needed not through the formal system, but through the Mother-of- a-Network.

I guess I have always been one to talk out my problems. I’d chat up the mothers who waited with me for their child’s turn at therapy. I talked to neighbors, to mothers at the playground. It was through these conversations that I found my first physical therapist, a woman who turned out to be renowned in the nation for her pediatric work. And it was through these talks, that I finally learned of the local early intervention program and its playgroup.

Mother’s Support Group at TEACCH

On October 19th, I will speaking to the Mother’s Support Group at the Chapel Hill TEACCH Center. I will read from my latest book of poems, When They Tell Me, which narrates my experience parenting a child with autism. I will also talk about how writing might help us deal with the challenges of supporting a child on the autism spectrum.

October 19, 10:30am–noon
TEACCH Mothers’ Support Group:
Journaling the Journey
Chapel Hill TEACCH Center
100 Renee Lynne Court Carrboro, NC

Mothers’ Group

The Chapel Hill TEACCH Center Mothers’ group was started in 1986 and is for mothers of children and young adolescents with autism. The two main purposes of the group are support and information. The format is informal with each meeting focused on a specific topic (e.g., behavior problems, siblings). Although the group has a facilitator, the mothers are encouraged to take the lead in talking about whatever aspects of the topic are relevant for them. The group meets monthly at the Center from 10:00 to 11:30 AM from September through June, and is open to mothers who have had prior contact with the center. Contact Catherine Jones for more information about the schedule.

Her First Word II

For me the most disconcerting of the whole situation was my daughter’s speech delay. Muscle tone could be developed. One might work to forget trace amounts of methylmalonic acid, no matter how terrifying the first revelation. But who could ignore a child’s inability…stoic refusal…to speak? No amount of desperation in our voices phased her as we pointed out cows, animated words and dramatically trilled the name of each object that came into view. I murmured “mama” unceasingly, beseechingly  in her ears but she remained tight-lipped not even attempting to mimic the simplest sounds. Until one day as both my daughters and I were sketching with sidewalk chalk. I dropped my chalk and as it shattered, she uttered a single, simple “uh-oh.” I took in the miracle of the moment, and calmly, insistently repeated the word back to her. But she was done. No need for discourse. She turned her gaze back to the tiny fists that so frequently absorbed her complete attention, ignoring me as I frantically repeated, “uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh.”