Gloria Ferris

Another year gone, added to our past.

Remember the laughter, the smiles, the bright sunny days.

Cherish the friends, the family, the time you spent together.

Reflect on the hopes, the dreams, the promise of a new tomorrow.

Be thankful for good health, for second chances, for all the good that came your way.

Another year waits to become our present, to create our future.

Bring the memories, the reflections, and the thanks with you.

Build a foundation of strengths within you and those around you.

Use each day to make the world a better place by being you.

Embrace your dreams by making them reality.

Dear Friends, on this New Year’s Eve, straddle the new and the old and make the future yours by living each day fully.

And as for me, I wish a New Year filled with health, prosperity, and happiness for each and every one of you.

There are two kinds of people.  Those that believe that once a year on the eve of December 25th a short, fat old man dressed in loud red pajamas, is flown all over the world by a bunch of wingless reindeer in order to stuff a wild assortment of presents into carefully hung stockings and under overly ornamented evergreen trees…and those that don’t believe all that.

There’s also a third kind of people made up of a strange collection of the first two kinds of people.  Those that believe in truly impossible.  Those that believe in the real miracle of miracles.  Those that still believe it’s possible to have…..

Peace on Earth and Good Will to All.

your own, your doctor’s, the hospital’s, in my case, MetroHealth Medical Center, your family’s, your friends’. When I spent those two months in the hospital last December and January, I learned that you need to speak up when you want to know something or you need a change in treatment, environment, or information for peace of mind.

The first time I really employed this advocacy thing was during the incident of the Jumping Bean Bed.  Because of that bed, I was not getting rest and I told my nurses I didn’t know how I was supposed to heal if I could not sleep. They told me to ask my doctors when they had rounds that morning for a new bed. Dr. Shwee said he didn’t see why I couldn’t have a new bed if one was available.  When I arrived back to my room from my physical therapy session, there was my new “old” bed.  The nurses had found a bed and moved everything in and out when I was gone. 

Now, I could have continued to suffer in silence complaining to friends and family, but they could have only sympathized.  By telling my doctors directly,  my problem was fixed quickly and efficiently. It gave me the confidence to ask questions about the drugs I was taking, to discuss the progress of my rehabilitation with therapists, nurses, and doctors.  During my stay at MetroHealth, I learned that this hospital is an “unsung hero” of our county. I have vowed to promote this awesome place of “miracles and hope” whenever and wherever I can. I also ask others who I meet who have experienced the quality care and compassion at this tremendous hospital to join me in my advocacy.

Yesterday, was the Shearer Family Christmas, and I was reminded of my Uncle Gene who was our family advocate. My mother and father divorced after 25 years of marriage. I was an adult but divorce affects any child no matter their age.  Uncle Gene would seek me out each year and ask me “What’s new”? We would chat a few minutes, and then, he would tell me a short story about something he remembered about my dad.  It might be a hunting story or an incident at one of the County Fair horse pulls.  He never failed to mention my dad. This conversation was held at the get together for my mother’s side of the family. Without lecturing or making a big deal out of it, he  would remind a 25 year old woman  that there were good times to remember when we were all together. I’ve never forgotten how I appreciated his attention and his compassion.

I learned from my uncle that too often people simply stop talking about people important in their lives because it is painful or because we think it might make others uncomfortable.  Uncle Gene always considered what was important to the person with whom he was conversing.  I never turned away from him without feeling just a bit better and walking a bit taller.  I work each day to be an advocate for my family and friends as he was.  He is a fine example of how an advocate of others should live.    Be an advocate by accentuating the positive to family and friends. Share stories of loved ones who are no longer with us.  Use those stories to strengthen bonds between generations.  

This lesson was again learned from one of my parents.  This time my mother was the one who gave the lesson.  My mother had polio as a young child; hence, my concern about her health I mentioned in yesterday’s post. She had coped for many years with a metal plate in her leg and scoliosis of her spine.  Each year our church back home had a big Chicken Barbeque on Fourth of July.  Each year my mother baked many, many pies for this event.

When I was 24 my mother called me to make sure that I would be coming home for the holiday because she wanted my help in baking pies for the church picnic.  I said I would be there to help, and she said good because there were fewer women who had volunteered for pie baking.

Well, at 24, I was not the responsible, reliable, predictable person I am today, and as young daughters will do, I arrived late with a hangover.  My mother didn’t say a word.  She just threw the apron at me and told me to start slicing apples for her famous Dutch Apple pie.  We worked in silence for what seemed like an eternity to me until I finally broke the silence with this question “so, is your leg aching today or is it your back”?

She flew around to face me, and with that look that only a mother can give, she said through clenched teeth “I am in pain every day of my life. This is not about pain, but about giving.  I gave based on what you told me you would give to me—help.  Because you did not see my giving as a priority I may not be able to give what I said I would.  You give what you can and I do but because you did not give what you could I may be short my giving”.  There was little I could say, but I began to work a bit more efficiently and faster, and we were able to make good on my mom’s promise to the other church ladies.

When I laid in that hospital bed for days on end needing help to eat, to dress, to accomplish the most basic of needs there was little I could give.  What I could give was a smile and a thank you which I did often and freely.  It was easy to remember my mother’s axiom of “You give what you can based on what you can accomplish”.

My doctors, nurses, and caregivers told me when I left how much they had appreciated my smiles and “thank yous”. They mentioned that my family and friends never failed to thank them, too.  They told me it wasn’t necessary, but it was greatly appreciated.   Sometimes, a smile and thank you is enough for those who give to you.    

When Monica Robbins interviewed Tim and me a few weeks ago I mentioned that when I spoke at the October Stroke Conference I did three things related my experience,  and shared seven things I learned.  She immediately asked what were they? I of course drew a blank and could only relate five.  I have since found my notes and intend to relate them here over the next few days.

The first thing I learned was to Count My Blessings. Actually, I had learned that years ago when I was a small child, but over the years I had remembered to do it much less frequently. While I was in ICU the nurses would turn on the television for background noise. I don’t know if I listened to the dialogue from “White Christmas”or if I simply dreamed portions of one of my favorite Holiday Classics.

In any case, it reminded me of my father who taught me to “count my blessings”.  When I was much younger I was a “worrywart”.  I worried that my cousin who was in the Navy would get lost in the jungles of Panama, that my teacher would call on me and I wouldn’t know the answer soon enough, that my Dad would go to work one day and not come home again just like my Grandpa, that my mother would get very, very sick. The list was a mile long, and I would stare in the darkness long after the house was quiet with my spinning, worrying mind.

It was shortly after my seventh birthday when my dad walked me into a starlit pasture and told me that I needed to learn to count my blessings instead of chronicle my worries.  That night he showed me how to count on the people who loved me, to count on myself, to count on my strengths, to count on the thousands of stars in the sky. That night I fell asleep confident my blessings outweighed my worries. 

Fifty years later lying in a hospital bed with arms hooked up to too many IVs to count, with a machine to help me breathe,  it would have been easy to have a head spinning full of worries. What if I never walked again, what if I couldn’t use my left hand for eating and writing, what if this and what if that.  I could have spent my hours endlessly worrying, but instead I decided to count my blessings.  It worked. It helped me stay positive on the hardest of days and saw me through long, dark nights.

So just as Bing Crosby sang Irving Berlin’s words to Rosemary Clooney in the movie “White Christmas” so many years ago, I would tell you this Christmas ”when you are worried and cannot sleep try counting your blessings instead of sheep”. It worked for me.

Last Monday Monica Robins and her sidekick Patrick spent two hours at the electronic cottage with Tim and me. Earlier in the day, she had interviewed Dr. Dan Friedman at MetroHealth about the health crisis that I personally suffered. 

As you know, two hours will shrink to a  very condensed version of the events.  I do hope that the important place my family and friends hold in the story remains as well as the incredible caring of the MetroHealth Team-doctors, nurses, therapists, LPNS, and all other staff. If it doesn’t survive the cutting room floor, please know that Tim and I thank God for all of you each and every day.

While Monica was here, I mentioned that Kim Wendel had been to our house on October 30th to interview us prior to the November 3rd general election in 2008.  My recollection of that time is fuzzy to say the least.  I do remember that Tim kept asking me why I wasn’t blogging more. Now, we know that I was barely functioning for the two weeks before my heart attack.  What is it they always say about hindsight being 20-20?

I am glad to say that much has changed in the last year. I am getting more energy and feeling pretty good on almost every day.  I now have more GOOD days than bad days. Tim told Father Ralph today that I still spend too much tme in the past comparing myself to who I was and not to who I am in the present.  I did mention though that I am very good at telling others how they should live in the present and not grouse about what isn’t any more.

So, if the eyes stay open try to catch the 11 pm news. My aunt used to say “Please consider me a chip in your woodpile of memories”. Please know that I consider you all much more than chips!.   

Sherry wants to thank everybody who came to The Ugly Broad Tavern bearing turkeys, complete Thanksgiving meals, and more. Due to your efforts, Sherry dropped off an envelope with $211 in cash, three turkeys complete with all the trimmings, seventeen boxes, and more than fifteen bags of food to help fill Brookside Center’s shelves during the Thanksgiving holiday.

It was great to catch up with people we hadn’t seen in awhile and to meet a FaceBook friend face to face for the first time. As always, the tacos were scrumptious, and we enjoyed the conversation and camaraderie at our neighborhood bar, The Ugly. Stay tuned, scuttlebutt has it that there will be a redux of the event before Christmas.

This week heralds the yearly Brookside Center Thanksgiving food drive for my community-Brooklyn Centre as well as Old Brooklyn and Brooklyn. Part of the Westside Ecumenical ministry, Brookside Center helps those most in need in our community by stocking a food pantry, resale shop, and supporting people who need to find resources to help them through rough times. Donations of food or cash  can be dropped off directly to Brookside Center at 3784 Pearl Road.

Or, you can stop by The Ugly Broad Tavern tonight for a taco. And, your question is “what does Taco Night at 3908 Denison Avenue have to do with a local food drive?”  A lot, actually. Bring a food or cash donation  and YOU will receive a FREE taco. If you supplement that taco with a cold beer, some friendly conversation with friends and neighbors, and the good feeling you get  from giving you have the makings of a warm and cozy evening in Cleveland.

Here is my comment on the Crain’s Investment News article which addresses the suit my friend Alan Mooney has filed with FINRA against FSC.

I know Alan Mooney personally, and feel that there is a need for some amplification of the situation surrounding him. Alan wrote the contract he used with FSC and did not sign or use FSC contracts. Alan wrote The Money Foundation contract which governs the down line reps who have Alan Mooney as their OSJ. Alan’s contract had language far beyond anything in the industry outlining ownership in regards to client information and intellectual property rights of reps. Alan also had a special contract as a Super OSJ meant to protect him from FSC recruiting his down line. A provision in the contract included a one year separation clause before FSC could recruit or retain any of Alan’s down lines. These unique 1997 contracts had been announced in national phone calls with over 600 reps listening when Jim Wisner signed the contract. 20,000 reps have learned about the signing of the contracts through seminar mailings and talks by Alan. Thousands of reps all over the United States who have attended Alan’s seminars have heard Alan talk about true independence.

That contract was honored by FSC for over 11 years until Mark Schlafly arrived on the scene, and for sure, Joby Gruber, Jim Wisner & John Bell Keeble would flip over how rotten things are at FSC today! FSC not only solicited Alan’s down lines but offered big bucks to top producers in Alan’s group to sell Alan out. In fact, in a phone call September 3, 2009, Mr. Schlafly promised Alan this would not happen anymore. Within 5 minutes of Mr. Schlafly’s disconnecting with Alan, he called Alan’s biggest producing rep. He not only solicited the rep but offered to backdate the money offer by 7 months.

There were hundreds of OSJ managers present when Alan offered to buy FSC in October 2008. Over a hundred OSJ’s had given Alan a Letter of Intent (LOI) to help buy out FSC. Within days after that meeting in Atlanta lots of rep’s with FSC were threatened by an AIG New York attorney to stop or else. The threats were in writing. Mr. Schlafly then had a national phone call with all FSC reps and threatened reps could not leave FSC because FSC owned their client information. Alan then posted on an FSC MFA ONLY blog a copy of AIG attorney Noah Sorkin’s letter to the SEC stating that at AIG the reps own that information. This exposed Mr. Schlafly and outted him as either dishonest or incompetent, and no matter what is correct, he was wrong in his threats.

Only Alan Mooney had the courage to stand and tell the truth on these issues–the guts to try and defend all the reps at FSC. There was no financial advantage for him. He could have stayed silent and shared the information only with his down line think tank- the Money Foundation. Most of the people following Alan are deeply moral and very spiritual people (many are Ordained Ministers). Some people jokingly have called us his apostles. We the so- called apostles of doing what is right, being independent and part of his think-tank, know the truth and know Alan tells it like it is! We know Alan as a Christian man of deep faith who has written books on Ethics for Success for stock brokers; a man knighted Sir Alan Mooney by order of the Pope for his work with inner city kids and street people.

The following week after Mr. Schlafly’s call, Schlafly clumsily had to retract saying “he didn’t know about the AIG attorney’s letter to the SEC”, but he still threatened “the use of negative response letters and months of holding reps up if they try to move”.

Alan is a holy man who stood up alone for the independent reps at FSC and those he stood up for should show their support for him now. Unfortunately, not all people are warriors, but those of us who value independence and ethical behavior know that now is the time to stand with this man. He personally paid for and brought his attorney to that meeting in the fall of 2008 for the benefit of all the other OSJ’s in what he believed was the beginning of how together they could help FSC remain a beacon for independent reps in the financial world.

Further, the person calling only OSJ’s (not their downlines) at FSC is an attorney’s son and is conducting a survey, and nothing more. Those who claim otherwise are not being truthful. People who are threatened by truly moral leaders always try to defame them. Alan is a man who freely shares knowledge, expertise, and best practices to make the financial world a better place. Simply, Alan is a good man done very wrong.

Independent Reps everywhere should take heed of this lawsuit because who owns the relationship with your clients, who owns your intellectual property, who has duties to whom, and who calls the shots in your business, in your professional practice—it is all at stake.

Read the full article here.

I don’t think quoting the last paragraph of Glenn Close’s article on Huffington Post detracts from her insightful writing and knowledge of an illness that needs to be brought out of the darkness and into the light if we are going to find a solution together. Here it is in its entirety.

The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that by the year 2020 mental illness will be the second leading cause of death and disability. Every society will have to confront the issue. The question is, will we face it with open honesty or silence?

Read more at: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glenn-close/mental-illness-the-stigma_b_328591.html

We have certainly been aware of the magnitude of the mental illness issue for some time now.  When states agreed with human rights organizations and others that the bulk of patients locked up in institutions had no place there and could take their places in society, it was not out of compassion and the understanding that care would still be needed for these individuals outside ivy-covered walls, but rather it was seen as a cost-cutting measure to states’ budgets.

At the same time, insurance companies’ saw that mental health benefits were a back breaker to employer-backed insurance plans. Insurance plans with mental health benefits were almost nonexistent for individuals. Health care for mentally ill individuals  and support for their families became more and more elusive while our prisons often became the place of last resort because treatment options are so finite.

A caregiver at MetroHealth told me recently that a person who should be admitted to the psychiatric unit of the hospital must  have insurance, be rated, or have Medicaid BEFORE admittance.  It is the only area with such a requirement.  So, when a mental illness issue is identified, the person is instructed to come back to the hospital for a rating, and then, they will be admitted. How often do you think that person returns, gets a rating, and is admitted? What if you were the family member that finally convinced the person to seek help? How do you think everyone copes? 

Almost thirty years later, mental health budgets in the state of Ohio have taken direct hits as a budget cost-cutting measure. We as a nation continue to push this real issue back into the darkness as national suicide rates soar. In reality, the violence of mental illness is usually self-inflicted.  Rarely, is it focused outward and seldom do wives”blow away” the  “perp”.