The accessability factor…

Luc Costermans- a blind man who broke the blind speed record with a performance of 192 mph. The Belgian driver has been blind for four years now, but nevertheless he managed to drive the Gallardo at 192 mph at an airstrip in Istres, France.

It was a last minute invitation.

Exciting nonetheless to try Annie’s famous chicken curry and converse with her. Since she participated in 50 Women we’ve become very close- sharing yogi tea and chatting about politics. She even told me she is starting to feel very “maternal” towards me and I don’t mind this because matronly energy is endearing and comforting.

It was quarter to seven and I walked to her apartment. She bumped against the door opening it and warmly greeted me, giggling about the mishap.

A man sat in a chair. Annie introduced him and I became entranced by his fruitful personality and churning mind.

Maybe you don’t remember Annie from the earlier post: She is the blind woman involved in a horrific subway accident in which she was trapped underneath the subway car. Our discussion this particular evening is exact proof that an individual person is never incapable.

The ravaging spirited man sitting in the chair is David. He is also blind. He is an actor, a writer, community activist and student he tells me and we exchange audition stories until arriving at another point in the discussion: Hollywood’s attitude toward hiring blind actors.

I mean after all- the Americans with Disabilities Act, finally passed in 1990 advocated for those with disabilities in attempt to create an equal workforce and free those quote/unquote disabled from stereotypes and denial due to their conditions. Therefore because of this legislation it should be fairly easy, right?

Not quite.

David told me no director is willing to work with a blind actor, that they simply hire sighted actors to play the roles of blind actors. He says this is frustrating as there are so many talented blind actors perfectly fit, if not BORN to play these roles.

Our discussion snowballed into plethoras of discussions related to the “blind” persona as Annie served us her famous chicken curry. See- people have thought in the past that Annie can’t cook because she is blind. I can attest that this is not true- her curry and spinach rice are filling and delicious.

“All through history, Jessica, in poetry, in lyrics, in texts in famous literary works- they all refer to the blind as either cursed, inadequate, a fortune teller or a poor beggar. Annie and I don’t see ourselves as any of these. We are teachers, students, parents, we cook and clean, we travel… I mean there are so many things Annie and I and all of our friends do that sighted people view us as incapable of doing”.

David is quite animated- he can imitate dozens of accents, he speaks several languages and lived abroad about 15 years. He was at one point- married to a feminist and they lived together in Israel.

He explained to me all the societal views towards the blind community. How he has, at times, walked across the street and experiences persons shouting at him different directions. How people will raise their voices at him suddenly when speaking,

“I’m blind, not deaf, ya know” he laughs…

Annie talks to me too- about the challenges she faced growing up without her sight and the stereotypes she was given. During Vietnam she attempted to join the US Navy.

“He told me it was a “noble gesture” at best!”.

The doorbell rang and a package was delivered to Annie’s house. It was a magazine for the blind community Annie wrote an article for. She was excited the issue was out.

“Show her how we read” David said, and she presented me with a large all white book. This was the famous magazine- marked entirely in Braille. No pictures or colors of any kind, no headings to my eyes- nothing of the sort. Prickled in tiny Braille dots for her wandering hands…

Annie ran her fingers over the words reading her submission to me about different cooking recipes and ingredients until David exclaimed to her to get his “reader”.

The Braille reader is very interesting as it can store over 100 books and magazines. When turned on and the selection is made, the Braille letters pimple up according to the text stored in the tiny device.

“I was talking to these men once” David started “ and when I pulled this thing out one of them said (in a twangy accent) “Buyyyyy gawd, you can read!”.

Perhaps the most memorable part of the discussion revolved around public accessibility to all people with varieties of handicaps. The curbs are not designed well enough for a wheel chair as are many business entrances.

Annie and David say the main problems with urban planning revolve around the sidewalks and bus stops. Sidewalks should ideally be equipped with perforated patches of plastic at the ends of streets or where they drop of into the road at crosswalks. This texture alerts those with visual impairments that they have reached the end of the sidewalk. You will find, actually, that a growing number of sidewalks do not include this feature, nor do the traffic lights make the all to familiar beeping noise when the light changes or is green.

Recently, newspaper racks were placed in front of bus stops, blocking access to the bus door. Those with visual impairments experience great difficulty concerning this, because they cannot find the bus stop and sometimes collide with them while entering the bus.

“Its not that we are incapable, the world just needs to be more accessible” Annie explained. “There are basic necessities that are not being met. I think many people assume that because a person has what is called a “disability” that they don’t do anything or have active lives. This simply isn’t true”.

She is not wrong. They each do so many things- as much as I do and undertake. It’s unfortunate to hear that they are treated with less respect or given the proper consideration for the same things as anyone else.

If the worlds were made more accessible- perhaps so many people wouldn’t be forced to experience limitations. I thought these occurrences are what the Americans with Disabilities Act aimed to change.

There is much progress to be made concerning proper accessibility. It’s shameful with all the website coding options even this media outlet is not always made accessible.

Treating people differently in lieu of preconceived limitations or prejudices is wrong. We should never simply assume another’s capabilities because of our own prejudices.

It is my hope that Annie’s story can serve in advocacy for these necessities.

Young Survival Coalition: Breast Cancer Awareness

Please, women of ALL ages- take a second to watch the video I posted here from the Young Survival Coalition. It was just brought to my attention today and Breast cancer is a critical issue for women of ALL ages. I was very moved by this video and know that you will be too!

Visit the website to learn more: Young Survival.org

The heart of the matter…

“I could have you figured out in a second”.

An unbelievable insinuation.

My eyebrows rose sharply- practically leaping from my forehead. Farcical and shocking. Really- utterly shocking that people are this way…

 

I took a sip of my black coffee- perturbed by the man and woman who sat closely next to us- chattering and obviously not oblivious a heart-felt discussion about one woman’s struggle to survive was occurring. An emotional discussion that was not any concern of theirs, but then again some people have no common decency…

 

It was, afterall, just shy of one week that Ila Fisher and I were incidentally introduced. Certainly not by accident.

 

The room was inundated with superficial people. There was a fashion show scheduled in one hour and a pair of twin models clonking around in platforms, snapping pictures with all the surrounding men, obnoxiously sucking in their cheeks for each photo. A Russian man introduced himself to me and besides Leila Radan;he was the most interesting person I met all evening.

Not really my crowd. Can we say….bad “energy”?

Finally. On the way out. Before the Fashion show.We weren’t interested in staying for it. Other plans…other people…another time perhaps.

 

 

Towards the exit- I paused to say goodbye and give bisous to a photographer I met when an unidentified soul grabbed my arm- yanking me into a throng of gatherers. It was an Indian man. “You are writing a book” he said “She is too”.

A young woman smiled. “What are you writing about” I asked her spilling wine haphazardly on my jacket.

“My life”.

She readily and easily went on to tell me about the horrendous ordeal she thankfully survived- the heart transplant, the biVAD machine- the brief version of a complex and courageous story.

 

I am convinced this wasn’t any accident- our meeting.

I told her about “50 Women”, told her I would call the next day, that I would love to help promote her cause any way I can and help tell her story…

 

We met one week later at an upscale, posh San Francisco hotel. The plush lobby juxtaposed to what we were about to discuss. Although she was dressed in sweats, her face was luminous.

 

Ila Fisher is not ashamed to tell her story. In fact, she tells her story because she believes it is the reason she continues to exist. Her purpose, her calling, her…testament of survival.

Our waiter appeared – disappointed we didn’t want food. Just black coffee, I told him. No cream, no sugar…

 

Ila began her story- telling me how she was sick for many years – how she reached out to many people and not one soul believed her condition was of a serious nature. How she was sent home multiple times from the ER and shuffled between doctors with no actual straight diagnosis. How she started to believe this would never change…

 

Faint and sickly she drove herself to the ER one night, checking off all possible illnesses on the sign in sheet in order to receive admission. Upon learning the diagnosis: Dilated cardiomyopathy, she was told she would not live to see the morning. That is was over. For real. For good.

“How did that make you feel”? I asked, surprised at my wavering voice.

“Like breaking everything if I had the strength. It just didn’t seem fair. I was angry. It was too soon.”

 

Dilated Cardiomyopathy occurs when heart muscle tissue is stretched and enlarged, making it difficult for the heart to function and often leads to congestive heart failure.

Ila went on to suffer an excruciating surgery where she mistakenly remained awake as the BiVAD machine was attached to her insides.“My body was so sick and they couldn’t give me enough anesthesia. I awoke as they performed the surgery. It felt like torture. I could feel everything. I knew I was awake when I felt tears running down my cheeks”.

She lived for one year attached to the machine in intensive care. Going from bedridden comatose to running on a treadmill and carrying the machine up and down stairs; she continued to push herself beyond limits of normalcy for her condition.

Finally learned that her heart would not function independent of the machine and underwent a transplant. She said what gave her the will to survive were all the people helping her through the experience and the medical personnel whom she built relationships and trust with. The nurses by her side, her transplant doctors and all friends and family who helped contribute necessary supportive elements.

 

Since this experience- her thinking altered drastically. She used to rely on emotions, she explained, but now she is more logical. People don’t appreciate their health. They just don’t understand how valuable a treasure health is. It is an essential element for good quality of life.

 

Ila contributed the story of her surgery and miraculous determined recovery to “50 Women”, however, the complete details of all her experiences leading up to these complicated surgeries will be available in her personal memoir she is currently writing.

“The reason I’m writing a book about this is to serve as a guide to transplant patients- to help them understand how to navigate the system and to face the challenges ahead. There is not enough information available for them. They need to understand they are living with another person’s organ- they are essentially extending the life of that person. They have a responsibility to that person, their family to live a good life after receiving such a gift. I just think if they were taught to understand that it would change their outlooks”.

Ila desires to wait until after she finishes this memoir to meet the family who contributed this heart.

 

There is an interesting and symbolic twist: Ila’s new heart once belonged to a young male.

The medical and social welfare system is a maze of misinformation and cryptic facts. The United States healthcare system often leaves transplant patients on social welfare due to the high cost of necessary medications, frequent blood tests and specialist visits.

 

“I’m on Medical” she explained “because my transplant drugs are too expensive to afford and no insurance company will cover me.”

She continued, explaining b/c of Medical she can only work “lower end” jobs with disgraceful pay as if she accepts a higher paying job that includes existing benefits the necessary coverage will be ripped away from her. Thus, leaving much anticipated “denial of coverage” letters from major insurance companies.

 

She once worked as a candy girl. A young woman roaming the streets of San Francisco late at night selling assortments of candy. Just another one of the jobs she was forced to work due to this preconceived notion.

(She recently learned that this is not the case- AFTER working several menial jobs and struggling for years to survive she later learned she was misadvised- which occurs frequently with transplant patients due to the complicated system).

Her ride was waiting for her. Time to leave. I thanked her. My mascara, bunched on my lower eyelashes from tearing up so many times in the course of her story.

 

What a prodigy of a woman.

 

One week following our formal interview- we talked for hours over the phone. She shared her goals and elaborated more for me on these experiences as well as her hopes for the future on how she plans to aid other transplant patients. We are meeting again- in attempt to join forces toward her cause. I told her how proud I was of her and her willingness to tell her story, to not allow anyone to discourage her from writing her book- her mission.

 

I also explained to her that I am not like a reporter- the women sharing their stories with me have all woven into my life and are actively still a part of it. I want to aid her in her cause the best I can. She opened my eyes and my heart to an area I never considered before.

 

Ironically enough, one week later, after a fundraiser in San Francisco, I stood on the curb outside an art gallery waiting for my ride. It was 12:30am and after too much wine- it was time to go.

“WOO WOO BAAAAAABBBBBY COME OVER HERE”- a drunken bastard of a man shouted across the street. Rolling my eyes at his inane behavior I turned to look at who he was yelling at. It was a “candy girl”. Dressed in a red and white striped dress.

 

Someone from our group called her over and proceeded to purchase items from her, all in effort to keep the wasted fool from making further advances. She smiled at me gently, with sensitive, delicate eyes.

I remembered my conversation with Ila. Realizing even after that transplant, poor guidance forced her into this role. I don’t see how she made it- kept her sanity that is, when a man one night turned and confidently spouted “I could have you figured out in a second”…

Maybe Ila Fisher had an ailing heart, but it appears she has and always will maintain the spirit of a warrior.

View the August 2005 article written about Ila Fisher

*Only the story of Ila’s surgeries and recovery will be available in “50 Women”. Her complete biography of experiences surrounding the diagnosis and treatment will be available in her personal memoir. *

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Abortion Clinic

Ah yes! Nothing like that poster of a dead fetus at the entrance to my high school parking lot at 7:30am. The bearded men clad in all black stuffing flyers through the window of my car as I helplessly sat in traffic unable to flee from their endless badgering. Their headlines printed in thick black ink on neon pink paper “Abortion is murder”.

“Honestly guys” I used to think “for the amount to money you spent on this nonsense you could have adopted a crack baby from an underfunded inner city orphanage”…

Abortion is an endearing social issue in many countries. In honor of the two women thus far who have contributed stories of Abortion I am posting this episode. Again, I am pro choice myself, but generally attain an objective point of view. I believe this subject can only be judged on individual circumstances.

This FRONTLINE documentary was first broadcast on PBS on April 18, 1983.

It was filmed at a clinic in Chester, Pa., a small city which at that time had a 30% unemployment rate. The clinic was chosen because it was representative of abortion clinics in the United States. The clinic also offered individual counseling in which the reasons behind the decision are explored.

During their five months at the clinic, the film’s producers met with hundreds of women. These stories were finally chosen.

FRONTLINE: THE ABORTION CLINIC

She stood up for Iran

There is a public restroom on the corner of 16^th and Mission Street. A man and woman keep going in and out of it suspiciously. The woman shakes and hollers in bursts at another man in a smudged white t shirt.

16^th and Mission is littered with homeless folk. Many of them slightly cracked out- murmuring to nothingness and staring at obscurity. I watched the “happy couple” dance around the public toilets as if praying for rain. The man pressing his hands against his chest, the woman’s wretched, sour expressions and pockmarked face…I doubt either of them are entering that bathroom to urinate, instinct tells me. Nonetheless, I feel sorrow for these lost souls.

Leila waits for me in her green car next to the NO PARKING sign. Aside from exchanging long emails for weeks on heated discussions regarding the existing regime in Iran and young girls sold as gambling debt in Afghanistan, Leila and I never met in person before now.

We were introduced by Kathy Perry, a woman I will later profile who owns the progressive San Francisco women’s magazine “Telling Her Story”. I was stunned on her piece “Iranian You” and thought it necessary to include this activist in “50 Women”. After all, her life is one representing us all- a mother, political activist, yogi, and performing artist.

Leila exited the car to greet me. Through all her emails I knew she is a person of warmth and was stunned by her petite size. A fact one would not expect given her immense energy- comparable to a quantum gravitational singularity. Dressed in her usual a la mode bohemian attire, she extended her arms and embraced me.

We drive to coffee in her hybrid car. I am in awe of this activist’s oscillating inner energy. I can relate to the “discrimination” of her physical size, I told her laughing. I too am global minded and densely packed in to a petite frame. It’s the frequent comment I have heard all too often after speaking with someone on the phone and subsequently meeting them in person:  “wow…I thought you were taller…” (rolling my eyes)

“That just means we will always be underestimated and over deliver” she raised her eyebrow proudly.

Leila is by pedigree, half Iranian and half Danish. She participates in various protests fighting for democracy in Iran. Through Facebook she posts daily updates on the protests and the movement’s progression. Leila has lived in multiple countries and traveled extensively in her life. She often refers to herself as a “3^rd Culture kid”, defined as a person born into a parent culture but having roots of multiple other cultures. This time- her cause reverts to the very beginning of her genetic and cultural roots.

Since the June election in Iran and the political disequilibrium after Ahmadinejad’s supposed “victory”; global protests erupted in Paris, Athens, New York, Netherlands, Bruxelles, Berlin, Los Angeles and San Francisco. Leila was a key player in the San Francisco protests. Through various social media outlets and her “Miz Bohemia” blog she vigorously posts updates on Iran multiple times daily, also informing upcoming protests and events in other cities.

It’s too late for black coffee and Chai Tea, but we drink and partage stories anyway. The caffeine of the awful Starbucks daily brew ravaging my veins as I listen. The more we discuss, I am finding how alike we are in so many ways. Eventually I asked her “Why Iran….and why now”?

I studied her face as it changed- her eyes metamorphosing into a cat like- emerald color as the calculating heat over Iran’s long standing oppression sifts inside her gut. Her internal energy contorts as though she hurts for all of Iran’s people.

And suddenly- that strong furious fighter breaks down, becoming delicate and vulnerable in an instant. “I’m sorry…I’m getting emotional”.

Then she told me something, a thought I would later take with me to Germany.

“ You would be surprised which parts of yourself can come out of you at unexpected times, which parts of yourself can hurt so deeply. I am so proud of Iran for standing up for their freedoms now, for fighting and continuing to fight and I wanted to do my part  because this is who I am- this country and their struggles are all part of me. I understand the long oppression of the regime and it infuriates me”.

Leila brought her two young children with her to several protests. She explained how important it was for them to witness such an event. “Even if they complain about having to go at least they will understand when they are older how important it is to fight for beliefs and to stand up against what is wrong”.

With this regime in charge, she illustrated its difficult for people to advance, to find themselves because they are constantly in survival mode. This election and the disruptions and protests are what the Iranian people have waited for in 30 years.

“It awakened something in my psyche, that having been raised knowing about this regime, even though I was always raised more on the outside, that being Iranian in Iran essentially means that you don’t have freedom.”

To Leila, Iran was always a place where people are not happy and live under the austere control of the government. This election and the protests that followed were amazing for Leila in the sense that freedom finally could be happening.

The social networking websites have aided her in amassing many Iranian friends from all corners of the world.

“I want to fight; I want to feel like I’m doing something. I do not live there so I can’t help these people being beaten and killed. I can’t stop the rapes, I can’t stop mothers loosing their children…but what I have done is become part of the global fight. Maybe I’m just a little teeny part here in San Francisco but I can work to spread the truth about the regime, and disseminate helpful information to those for this cause whether they are in or out of the Iranian community”.

I was fascinated to learn of the impressive amount of support within the international Iranian community. Leila explained they are similar to the Jewish community in terms of organizing and catering to their own. The Iranian mentality is not to be that of followers but to be leaders, she explained.

Everything happening now in Iran that people are hearing about, some for just the first time, have occurred continuously for the last 30 years. But finally- it appears Iran is getting its “say” within the global community.

“It’s heartbreaking to see the bloodshed but at least the world is watching now. People know now, they believe us; they can see what’s going on. It’s important that people see, that we make more noise and get this into the news to keep the focus there so the world doesn’t forget. Because if the world doesn’t forget and the regime knows they’re watching then that is the power that we can exert. ”

Its 8pm and she receives a call that the new snake her family acquired has wandered off somewhere. Its time to leave.

In the car, I ask her in between jokes about the snake situation what her ultimate hope for Iran is.

“My hope is a more open system a government by the people, for the people. I know there is unity in the fight for freedom and I hope that unity continues if the regime crumbles. All we can do is hope for the better and never stop the fight. Keeping the fight alive is our only hope against complete darkness…”

I promised her I would tie a green ribbon on my bag for her cause. One week later, I proudly did just that.

Leila’s full story regarding her activism will be available in “50 Women”.

Rethink Afghanistan- the series

A documentary series of various topics regarding the current political and economic climates in Afghanistan. The segments on this documentary are brief, but very informative!

Watch at snagfilms:

Rethink Afghanistan Part 5: The Women of Afghanistan

Visit the official website at www.rethinkafghanistan.com

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Soul searching in Germany…

It was evening when we left on the train. I hoped it would not grow dark before I had a chance to watch the German country side flash by me. It may be my last glimpse for some time and I am desperate to consume all the visions of this land that I can intake.

There was a bottle of wine in my purse awaiting consumption over our discussions. It was a Gewürztraminer/Riesling mix. I adore drinking wine produced in Germany as this is the land of my ancestors- and when I drink it I can feel the seasons of the land in my blood; as though the wine is somewhat indemnifying.

It’s a strange sort of cognition when you are part of something. My ancestors died here and now all I can do is appear here bearing their name, not fluent in their very native language as I have been removed and am now part of another land, people…another countries pride.

The grapes grown in the land were grown on the same soil in which these family members are buried. I have nothing from their past- no folklore, no stories, no indication of anything- only the wine produced here that when I drink it- it gives something back to me but still no answers. It is something of a spiritual nature just to be here. It’s a feeling I can scarcely explain, but I believe many would understand. No one in my family has any answers- what does my last name mean and why do the first four letters mean “book” but the last nothing. Has the language changed since this name was conceived? Where does it come from? The logistics don’t matter. I am here and that is all.

I was sad to leave Julia’s gracious family who hosted us for the last few days. They were wonderful, hospitable people and I enjoyed sharing our discussions.

Julia accompanied me and I was grateful to have her. I enjoy her company extensively for her calm nature, open mind and intellect. Delicate facets of character strongly underrepresented in many younger American women her age.

Seated on the train, our discussions began lightly eventually trickling to the obscure areas in our current lives. I sat pressed against the window and we passed the wine bottle between us. Soft evening glows fell over the green hills and forests as the conversation began to encircle her story of an experience with hypnosis.

Hypnosis is known to have many psychological benefits including muscle relaxation, confrontation of certain phobias, and has even aided some in quitting smoking. For some time she was unsure of what she wanted to contribute- and unsure that she indeed contained an inspiring story.

After explaining that she was unsure of the direction of her life, she began explaining the experience in detail.

She was skeptical that this would work. After all, the only times she saw people under hypnosis was more for a comedy routine- to cause the subjects to act outrageously and in a sense, playing the “fool”.

The instructor performing the hypnosis reassured her act was not meant to make a mockery of her- but to help her discover the unknown about herself.

She explained being in the presence of a Native American man and feeling strong calming emotions. He was to serve as her guide through a “personal library”. Julia explained that seeing a Native American man was indeed a very spiritual experience for her as she harbored since childhood a fascination with the people, the spirituality and the cultures. This was a primary reason she came to the United States for the first time- the Native American influence was what she felt stronger than anything being in America.

She noticed there was water in her hypnosis vision. She is deathly afraid of water- since she was a child it always haunted her. After the hypnosis incident this began to trickle away.

The hypnosis positively influenced Julia’s life in countless ways. It taught her to slow down, to enjoy simple aspects of life that are so important and gravely overlooked. It aided her to overcome a troubling phobia, and encouraged her to be more open minded about things.

I was laughing silently inside- as I remembered her saying several times that he didn’t know what to say- that she didn’t think her life could be interesting enough to inspire others but little did she know I have heard this before and I never believe anyone when told this. We all have something inspiring inside of us to give- stories, advice… there is always something, somewhere about how we took on our world and won.

Julia represents a growing number of not only young German women but of young adult Europeans. During one conversation she jokingly refereed to herself as a member of the “Internship Generation”. I asked her what this means and she says this was a coined phrase used to describe the young adult generation in Germany and Europe continuously studying and working internships because they have grave difficulty finding stable jobs. They move all over Germany working poorly paying apprenticeships and studying in academic programs waiting to find a more permanent situation. There simply and not enough. Either way- I believe this state of being is aiding her to find her path.

She is working in Chile after January 2010 in a German school and is ecstatic about this opportunity. Despite her occasional jokes about the uncertainty of her Spanish abilities.

She is positive now that she wants to work with children…but there are so many possibilities…

She is- as many other young adults- asking herself questions. This is good. Actually, this is wonderful. Why? I believe asking yourself questions is the first step to finding yourself and your path. Without a stimulation of your own curiosity, you can often forget there are many destinies and elements of your life that you can, indeed, control.

In an instant- she stated something she learned in pursuit of her Psychology masters degree regarding Roger’s Theory that woke me up about one area of my life:

Roger’s theory stated that your actions have to be congruent with your “self”- the picture that you carry inside regarding who you are what things are most important to you. People that do things which do not make them happy will eventually develop a form of psychosis. It’s because they do not feel free and are going against who they are and their internal potential”…

It’s amazing: the beauty of the moment when you realize that you’re both searching for something and you realize that your paths crossed so you each can contribute useful clues to each other to help grow closer to reaching it.

I leaned against the window of the train. Our conversation made me realize how satisfied I am with my life now and how there is one unsatisfactory element that must change and will change and I am positive about that. After all, the only thing in this great universe that is constant is change.

Scanning the landscapes in the falling darkness I remembered my family name- how I just learned that it is of Bavarian origin and how pleased I am to have a lead. Being here is magical and somewhere inside of me…maybe only in some fraction of the cells in my body something somewhere is at peace to finally be…home.

A different approach to medicine…

Sabrina

“Often you have two physicians who are equally talented and intelligent. But what it ultimately comes down to is how you treat the patient”.

It was roughly three months ago when I boarded the flight from Los Angeles to San Francisco. What a relief after shuffling around LAX for 2.5 hours, eating processed chicken from McDonald’s and receiving disapproving looks from the ticket counter woman when I asked to go on standby on an earlier flight. I had finally resorted to watching planes land until they finally made the boarding call.

Honestly, boarding a plane is an apprehensive ordeal. Who will you sit next to? Who will you be subjected to for the next “n” amount of hours in such an unusually intimately close distance? I always dread this.

The first person pushed past me to the window seat. She didn’t say much to me. An announcement comes over the speaker “Ladies and Gentleman- this is going to be a full flight…”.Great. Who will sit in the middle if I am on the aisle and this other woman is on the window…

Finally a young woman approached me dressed in a coral sari. She inquired about the empty seat, and I offered it to her. She quizzically began reviewing sets of statistics problems and I recognized the combinations. We started talking.

She is Sabrina Aurora- a current medical student with strong convictions regarding the holistic approach to medicine. She is half Indian and half British and very culturally aware of her origins.

For the next hour, we chatted as though we knew each other for years. I was impressed at her opinions of medicine, patient care and health care. The pangs of awkwardness stung my gut as I decided to ask for her contact information. Remembering that “50 Women” entailed performing unusual maneuvers such as this one and the goal of the project is to represent a wide cultural variety of women. So I did it- I got her “digits”; sending her a drastically LONG email detailing the project information one week later. The email began awkwardly with “I met you on that plane…”

Two months later, after her painstaking exams and various medical school requirements- we met for Afghan food for a group dinner. Sitting on the floor in a crowded corner, with a digital voice recorder placed between us on a ledge, we began our discussion about Sabrina’s choice to attend medical school.

Her approach to medicine is admirable. Sabrina, as detailed in her story, believes strongly in the importance of patient care. She explained to me her holistic approach – a slight deviation from standard American medicinal practices.

Sabrina does not wish to do surgery- her aspiration is Manipulative Medicine, a vastly emerging field concerning hands-on treatment. In this practice, ailments are ameliorated by very subtle touches and movements on spots of pain or “landmarks” on the body. This practice is said to improve circulation and drain the lymph nodes-realigning the body to reach homeostasis.

Manipulative medicine is composed of very specialized treatments.

Sabrina is attracted to Manipulative Medicine because of the ability to use the hands to do everything as it incorporates the power of touch through healing. She believes this has physiological aspects for the patients while healing them. This helps patients feel closer to the physician.

She explained to me the differences between Osteopathic and Allopathic medicine and I was very pleased to learn about the differences between both doctrines. Allopathic medicine is regarded as “biomedicine” or “modern medicine” and consists of staunchly scientific approaches.

Osteopathic medicine has a strong emphasis on patient care- viewing the patient as a unit for healing. There are core principles to Osteopathic medicine which many professionals uphold:

1. The body is a unit, and the person represents a combination of body, mind, and spirit.
2. The body is capable of self-regulation, self-healing, and health maintenance.
3. Structure and function are reciprocally interrelated.
4. Rational treatment is based on an understanding of these principles: body unity, self-regulation, and the interrelationship of structure and function.

Sabrina believes medical students should be aware of the other options available in instead of only allopathic medicine. She believes Osteopathic medicine allows for better patient care and a more individualized relationship between physician and patient. Its treatment practices have been scientifically validated.

After pausing briefly to order appetizers and socialize with the rest of our group- I asked her why she chose to practice medicine. “Its something I always knew I wanted to do. I have had several earlier experiences working in the field to increase my knowledge of practices and those experiences were important in helping me make the choice because they showed me many applicable situations” she explained.

“Basically what I wanted to do was help people, make them feel comfortable and help them get back into homeostasis”.

Over our hummus and “rot” we discussed the current healthcare system and her opinions from a physician’s perspective.

“There should be some sort of common ground. Closed systems like Kaiser work better as they have elements like case managers for people with more than one disease. In a perfect world everyone is insured and that’s the goal. That would better help us focus on primary care.”

Medical debt is another obstacle many desirable physicians must manage. Sabrina believes reducing the medical debt and capping medical malpractice would help increase the number primary care physicians.

Our discussion began to wrap and I asked her to provide advice for women interested in pursuing medicine. The school is extensively difficult in the United States as I have known many young women who began pre- med and found the constant exams and other academic criteria no longer desirable.

“There are a lot of obstacles. I believe it is mostly important to find a mentor in the related field of medicine in which you are interested. I think, many times without someone to guide you or inspire you, you get caught in the difficulty of the programs and become discouraged”.

Sabrina’s story details the decisions and contemplations of a young female medical student. She is very strong in her convictions and provides important advice.

I asked Sabrina to participate in “50 Women” because I not only appreciated her cultural awareness but also her insistence in following her goals to be a physician. Her disposition of patient care and genuine concern for indemnifying the heath of patients is very inspiring.

Election day in Afghanistan

An Afghan Woman reveals the ink on her finger- indicating that she cast her vote. Image: AP msnbc

Today was a historic day for Afghanistan. It was the 2nd Presidential Election in history. Plagued with pre-election  Taliban threats and a recent US military struggle, the polls closed today with 135 attacks and 26 killed. Many predicted Taliban threats would scare away voters and this did occur. Although many dared bombs, rockets and intimidation and still came to vote.  Not to mention it happened so daringly close to Ramadan. Now we wait.

Afghan Women Voters at a polling station Image: AP/msnbc

The road to this event was not easily navigable for the female candidates. They faced criticism, assassination attempts and death threats for their campaign efforts. Even putting up campaign posters of their uncovered faces drew dangers. As they attempted to address key issues by speaking to groups, they were all along at risk of being called “prostitutes” for trying to explain their platforms to men.

Early January 2009 Azra Jafari became the first female mayor. Shala Atta is a female presidential candidate, and remained in the running despite all the threats.

Shala Atta: Presidential Candidate

In a recent article on msnbc.com, the hardships for this political lifestyle are explained through the eyes of Fawzia Kufi, one of 91 women in Afghanistan’s parliament . After surviving a roadside bomb planted ahead of her convoy she wrote a letter to her children saying:

“Dear Shaharzad, Dear Shuhra, we will all die one day. But we can be proud if we died leaving something good behind…”

Crucial changes are happening now. These women deserve recognition for all of the adversary they face in order to have a voice. I reflect back on earlier American women’s movements as I read their stories; realizing there may be a promising future after all. This is my hope.

Afghanistan is a “soft spot” for me. My concern on the situation is, in essence, where “50 Women” originated. I want Women here to be relieved of their long suffering and regain their respective places in the society.

At the beginning of this blog, I found another blog about Afghanistan. It belonged to Shannon Galpin, an American woman who started a non- profit called Mountain to Mountain and began fighting for the women of Afghanistan. The interesting aspect: Shannon is not a celebrity or politician, but what we call an “average” woman. In a few short years, she has done and is still doing monumental work.

In the December 28th 2008 article in her blog is an entry regarding her conversation with Dr. Roshanek Wardak. Its very much worth reading at: http://shannongalpin.wordpress.com/2008/12/29/politics-is-lying/

Now, all we can do is wait for the results of the election. Hoping, especially after Iran, for a more promising future for Afghanistan.

Another resource for a complete timeline of the history of Afghan Women: http://www.afghan-web.com/woman/afghanwomenhistory.html

Searching For Angela Shelton

A film documentary about one woman's past and her search for truth

Watch the full film at:

Searching For Angela Shelton

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