When the Tooth Feary Shows Up: What Would Debi Do?

Periodontal work anyone?

I’m not offering it; I need it. Ugh. My periodontist’s business card says “New Beginnings, Firm Foundation.” It should inspire a sense of comfort. But when you have sensitive teeth and don’t particularly love going to the dentist, much less the big periodontal kahuna, nice guy that he is, I feel like I’m on shaky ground rather than any kind of firm foundation.

The good news is Dr. Nice Guy is very talented and has good drugs. The bad news is, alas, no matter how great a job I’ve done with my teeth, my mouth still needs the work.

And I’m scared.

And…the surgery is happening eight days before a workshop I’m facilitating for Story Circle Network at their 2012 Conference. Holy molar.  (http://www.storycircle.org/Conference/preconfwkshop.shtml)

“Alrighty then,” I say, taking a deep breath, pretending to be fine. But what I’m noticing is I’m filled with angst and lots (lots) of “oh woe is me” thoughts. Fear, plain old fear.

I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the surgery (read pain) and I’m afraid of not being at my best for the Story Circle Network Conference.

So I pause. I sit in meditation. I sit with this Tooth Feary that won’t go away.

And then Debi Meyer pops into my head. A question arises, “What would Debi do?”

I am drawn into thoughts about the traumas and trials she has suffered and how she has weathered them. What would Debi, a 26-year survivor of leukemia, do now? She would remind me to step back and look at the bigger picture, gain some perspective, and compassionately take care of myself.

She would say be kind to yourself, take a few more deep breaths, treat yourself to a relaxing massage or a warm bath with a glass of wine. Write in your journal or talk to a good friend – voice your concerns and don’t discount your fears or the experience you are undergoing.

My friend Debi has CML (leukemia). She wouldn’t be alive today if she hadn’t survived a bone marrow transplant in 1987. Her brother was the donor.

She also lost her husband, the Reverend Charles (Chuck) Meyer, 12 years ago. Chuck died in an automobile accident November 13, 2000, when a vehicle crossed the centerline, striking the Meyers’ vehicle at 70 miles an hour. Chuck and Debi were going to M.D. Anderson in Houston where Debi was participating in a research study investigating a new drug for leukemia.  Chuck died instantly. Debi, seriously injured, was taken to Brackenridge Hospital where she spent the next six weeks in St. David’s Rehab and the hospital where Chuck had been an employee for 25 years.

He was beloved by Debi and daughter Michal, and by the community at large. Over 2500 people attended his funeral. Debi and Chuck had been married for 12 years, and with this being the 12^th anniversary of his death, she and I recently discussed what it’s like for her to be without him.

It’s hard.

Chuck Meyer was a celebrated non-fiction and mystery writer, death and dying expert, medical ethicist, chaplain and Episcopal priest. He was the vice president of operations at St. David’s Medical Center when he died.

He also spoke from time to time at The Seton Cove (www.setoncove.net) which is where I met him and learned quickly why he was known as the “Seldom Reverend Chuck Meyer.” Through his off-the-wall sense of humor, wisdom and brilliance, I learned many things, not the least of which was what constituted a good death.

Chuck’s death actually brought Debi and me into contact with one another. I visited with her periodically after he died, and then she took my “Your Life is Your Art – You Are the Artist!” workshop at Seton Cove. I had much to learn from her. Over the last couple of years, I have driven her to San Antonio for treatments or tests. I thought I was being the good friend doing the good deed. But she’s so good at caring and listening that upon our return, I knew my spirits had been lifted as much if not more than hers had. Whenever Debi listens to you, you feel heard.

She has a warm and loving heart, expressed through a reflective wisdom to which she also pays attention. Debi looks for ways to discern how to live her life to the best of her ability.

She is study-material for the medical community; they haven’t quite figured out how she has beaten the odds. Chuck used to call her “The Energizer Bunny.” Through new drugs and a good dose of alternative therapies, regular exercise, good nutrition and a host of supportive family members and friends, she just keeps going and going and going.

Besides being my good friend and proverbial port in the storm, she is one of my most respected mentors. She sets the example of how to live life, even with health limitations. She takes a daily cancer drug that causes fatigue and there are days her body lets her know she must rest. She has to pay close attention in order to keep surviving.

Her wisdom and love came through loud and clear in my meditation yesterday. She talked me down off the ledge and restored a sense of calm in me. I first acknowledged my pending surgery fears, and then acknowledged my forgotten reserve of courage.

If Debi can get through what life has dealt her, I think I can handle a little periodontal surgery, don’t you?

Per Debi, some self-care was then in order. A hot bath with therapeutic bath salts, nice soft music, a few candles, a glass of wine and the most recent copy of “The Sun” magazine sent me to bed a calm and happy camper.

If you’re up for a little self-reflection and self-care (hot bath not included), please join us at one of the April Re-Story Circles, which will for obvious self-care reasons be held the third week in April rather than the normal second week. Hope to see you either Monday, April 16 or Wednesday, April 18.

Click here for more information: https://www.jeanneguy.com/re-story-circles/