Mon 1 Dec 2008
The Best Cure for Chronic Illness: Love
Posted by Christina under chronic illness, families, family values, financial medicine, health care, Living Without Parenting, mental illness, Pat Tracey, schizophrenia, snake oil, Stalking Irish Madness
[2] Comments
Elaine and Austine Tracey in the 1960s
Stalking Irish Madness has been named one of the Best Books of 2008 by Slate magazine: http://www.slate.com/id/2206635/pagenum/all/
Years ago when we lived in New York city, my husband and I spent four or five hours every Sunday night delivering sandwiches to homeless men. The vast majority were Viet Nam War vets, out of work and homes because mentally ill. Most were clean, quiet, polite, grateful. A few – like the 6’3” drag queen up in Times Square – were angry, swinging at the air, arguing with unseen enemies.
“Schizophrenia,” we said to each other in whispers, gingerly extending a brown bag pre-packed with chicken salad sandwich, yogurt and an apple, which the drag queen snatched before stalking off in high heels, muttering.
Recently we travelled up to Brookline Mass, where our friend Pat Tracey gave a reading to promote his book, Stalking Irish Madness: Searching for the Roots of my Family’s Schizophrenia. All four of his sisters — including the two affected by with the mental illness, were there.
I was struck by how normal they seemed. When one has a chronic condition, whether physical, mental, or a combination of both, it’s easy to fall into black and white thinking – the “normals” and the afflicted.
Eighty percent of chronic illnesses are invisible, and you’d be hard put to sort out at first glance which two of the four Tracey sisters were afflicted. Michelle, who has bi-polar schizo-affective disorder, is as effusive and articulate as her twin Seanna, who is “normal.” Austine, once catatonic, merely appeared shy and sweet. There were no verbal histrionics, no talking to invisible people, no bursts of anger.
Said Pat, “Maybe the worst thing about this illness, worse than the altered reality and the hearing of voices itself, is the stigma attached.” The “crazy” label that compounds the isolation, and against which the ill often respond with frustration and anger.
I live with a completely different illness, but I had the same response when it first invaded my life. The reaction from bosses, some of my family and friends, if not my husband, was not compassion, but anger: Stop this nonsense right now! The worst probably came from myself — anger that I was ill, that my life had changed so drastically, that people distanced themselves from and condemned me for having a physical condition I hadn’t asked for, and had as yet no control over.
Of schizophrenics, Pat said, “Maybe these people are on a different wave length. Maybe instead of being thought crazy, they ought to be honored. A millennium ago, they were thought to be seers, shamans. Now they’re picking through garbage cans. Prisons are full of schizophrenics.”
Pat reports that, in addition to famine leading to gestational malnutrition — the roots of his own family’s illness date back to the Great Irish Famine — war is a big trigger for schizophrenia.
I’d also like to add – adequate financial resources for good health care. Austine and Michelle are both fortunate enough to benefit from residency in good state-funded group homes, not far from where their “well” siblings, Elaine, Seanna and Patrick live in the Boston area. They were clean and well-kept.
For 30 years, the eldest Elaine, who never had children of her own, but who Pat describes as “the matriarch” has been the primary caretaker of the afflicted sisters. Without such understanding, I shudder to think where Michelle and Austine might have wound up. The Traceys expemplify the kind of family values I can get behind.
I’d also like to add – adequate financial resources for good health care. Austine and Michelle are both fortunate enough to benefit from residency in good state-funded group homes, not far from where their siblings, Elaine, Seanna and Patrick live in the Boston area. They were clean and well-kept.
For 30 years, the eldest Elaine, who never had children of her own, but who Pat describes as “the matriarch,” has been the primary caretaker of the afflicted sisters. Without such understanding, I shudder to think where Michelle and Austine might have wound up. The Traceys expemplify the kind of family values I can get behind.
