Dated July 30th, 2012

Another one that was hiding in the drafts folder, on being a working gal, and on things being hard:

I have very happily returned to North Shore Long Island Jewish - Adult Cystic Fibrosis Center as their Assistant Research Coordinator. I couldn't think of a better place for me to be (except of course if the NSLIJHS would relocate to Binghamton so that I could be with Ian and our kitties...) Everyday I wake up knowing that I have an opportunity to make a difference in someone's life and I feel so privileged. Being there is second nature, knowing and understanding the treatments, interviewing patients, calling for IVs, calling for patient admissions, coordinating study visits, reading labs and microbiology reports, managing IRBs, etc. I love it all. But in a way I'm left wanting to do more. Maybe it's ambitious to want to change peoples lives everyday, but I think we all have the potential to do it, if we pay attention to the simple things.

I met with two very special individuals on my very last day as an intern last summer, and they have left a real impression on me and I am deeply saddened by their absence as I return this year. Their struggles with CF were different than anything I had every witnessed. They were more alone in their fight than I even thought possible. They showed me that no one is exempt from the cruelties of this world no matter how large their burden. Maybe I was ignorant, maybe I was blinded by the lives my two cousins were so fortunate to live, blinded by the love and support I had felt for them, that I didn't even think about or really even feel like I knew there would be young men and women who were in their fight alone, who didn't have moms or dads, or aunts and uncles, or cousins, and friends, who were there for them, who had their best interests at heart, who would support them, who would sit in the hospital with them, hold their hands, bring them Slurpees and Nathan's hot dogs. I'm an anthropologist, so how did I not know or realize that there would be incredible diversity in population? I don't know, but I don't think I was prepared for it, for all of it to be so very hard.

Both of these individuals left me wishing I could of done more.

They were warriors that were forced to survive through an endless storm of adversity. I'm left wondering, how can I take some of that away, how can I at least alleviate the pain for the time they are with me, for the time that I can be a presence in their lives? I don't know if I can, but I know that I can try, and I know that no matter the odds stacked against them I will never give up on them, I will never doubt them, I will only do my best to help them to succeed. So much of it is hard, so much of it is terrible, so much of it we can't change, but there is always hope.