The best gifts are the ones you can tell needed a lot of thought and effort. This usually translates into presents that are made instead of bought. Today, my nephew gave me this poem that he wrote, typed up, and illustrated. Thanks again, buddy. I love you, and it’s going to be hard for Santa to top this one! I’m feeling very lucky to be healthy and surrounded by such a loving family – hope everyone else is, too!
Last year on December 23rd, I described my family’s traditions for this day (we call “Eve Eve”) on my Charlie Brown t-shirt blog. Another tradition very important to my family is our love of the Boston Bruins. This is the card my parents sent out this year.
It’s a safe bet every year on Christmas that there will be some Bruins items exchanged in the McGrath house – the only difference this year is that it might say Stanley Cup Champions on it. Looking forward to some Christmas cartoons mixed in with the Bruins / Panthers game with my favorite people…Go B’S!!!!!!
It’s no secret that I’m a Star Wars dork. Exhibit #241 is this ticket to the Boston Museum of Science Star Wars Magic of Myth exhibit. I had previously driven down to Washington DC with Carl to see this exhibit at the Smithsonian in 1998 and to New York in 2002 to see it at the Bronx Museum of The Art, so a trip from Westboro to Boston was easy. I was teaching at an adolescent psychiatric unit at Westboro State Hospital in 2005, and I organized a field trip for another viewing (it was actually my 4th time seeing the exhibit because I had already seen the Boston exhibit with my friend Glen). Even though not all the students were able to go, it’s always good for the ones doing well to be rewarded.
And here’s another card I gave to my friend Jen which reminds me of one of my favorite Trailer Park Boys moments:
Sometimes, you find the perfect gift and card for someone. For my friend Carl, the gift was this Spaceballs T-shirt. This was the card:
Love you, man!
Since today marks 23 years since I was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease (see my medical records here), I thought this poem would be a good scan for today. It must have been a bad Crohn’s day when I wrote it, but I was trying to convince myself that there were worse diseases out there (cancer, for example?).
I’m glad to report that I feel more in control of my Crohn’s than when I wrote this. And since my diagnosis 23 years ago (when they removed 1 ½ feet of my intestines), I have not needed any more surgery and I’ve only had to be hospitalized once (in 2008).
Crohn’s
Even though I never asked,
I accepted you in my life.
You made me rot away
And I had a hospital stay,
From before Christmas
To New Year’s Day.
The scar on my side
And toxic air I can’t hide
Remind me
You are still with me.
I turn you into a joke
As much as I can,
But your embarrassing ways
Hit me now and again.
I’ll calmly sit,
Then have to race into
My office room,
Like a cat I run
Sensing immediate doom.
The laws took away
The best medicine
I had for you,
The closest I came
To convincing this relationship
Was through.
Don’t let these chronic lines
Go to your head,
You don’t even win a medal
For all the diseases
In my bed.
In some ways
You are just a result
Of all previous conditions,
Your name needs explaining
For most who will listen.
Ironically you were and are
The easiest to digest,
You may not be
The easiest to cure,
But you will never
Be the best.
It was the end of my junior year, and the thing I cared about most was getting drunk. I usually didn’t drink during the week, but when Friday rolled around, I was salivating for my first sip – which was usually a gulp followed closely by more and more gulps. I didn’t like where my life was romantically, I was still angry about cancer (both my own and a friend who passed from leukemia that November), and I turned to drinking as my way of release. Even though drinking had led to interactions with the BC Police, ER visits, and many apologies; I wasn’t ready to stop.
Then on May 7, 1995, I started drinking to excess. I drank everything in the apartment I shared with my roommates. Drinking made me not care, and that night I didn’t care if I lived or died. Again, it landed me at McLean’s. This time, I was ready to stop.
Of course, when I got there, I had other things on my mind. The Bruins were playing the Devils in the 1995 Stanley Cup Playoffs and they had lost games 1 and 2. Game 3 was a must win, and I had to watch it. As you can see in the Mental Status Examination Upon Asmission, I made that crystal clear:
Then while in one of the groups at McLean’s, a man in his late 30s/early 40s said something that made my decision with alcohol final. All he said was, “Hey, my name is Mike and this is my 8th time in rehab.” I said to myself that I never want to be saying that. I wanted this to be the last. And I knew the only way it would be the last is if I never drank again.
He was 13. When they could tell his battle was nearing the end, he asked his mother to call me so he could see me. I was in the hospital getting my stomach pumped, and my parents and the doctors agreed it would be best to keep me somewhere safe. Of course when they told me, I lashed out and was pissed that they didn’t tell me right away. But I knew the real reason I wasn’t there for him was because of my drinking. I failed being there for a friend in need, and it was because of alcohol. I don’t want that to ever happen again, so again I arrive at the decision not to drink again.
When I left McLean’s, the “experts” there were convinced that if I returned to Boston College for my senior year, I would drink again. They had known me for a week, and were that certain. I am happy to tell them they were wrong. Not only did I not drink my senior year at BC, I had the best GPA of my four years there. And I haven’t had a drink since May 7th, 1995.
My non-drinking is not because of anything any psychiatrist at McLean said to me. It’s not because I think drinking is evil and no one should do it. It’s because I know what road it leads me to: not caring for my family or friends, the ER, police, and McLean. I promised myself I wouldn’t let drinking take me there again, and I’ve lived up to that promise. But it’s easy to keep a promise like this when you have supportive family and friends like mine. Thank you to everyone who helped me get through this…I couldn’t have done it without you! And of course, GO B’S!!!!
After being a casual NiN fan since I was in college, I went to see them live for the first time six years ago. Nine Inch Nails played these songs, I was impressed, and my date (who is now married with kids) was a lot of fun. I also went with her to the Ansel Adams exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts that December, and I was impressed again. The MFA wasn’t quite as loud as the Nine Inch Nails show, but both were awesome in their own way.
