Principles of Medical Ethics 

Before You Donate

Think very seriously before donating to any breastcancer organization, or fundraising program until you read their Annual Report to see who their top contributors are, and if they have a product that appears frequently in the message the organization sends to the public. That would be unethical and its illegal. The same applies to a request that the public buys products, but does not receive a "donor receipt" for tax-deductible purpose. Read any and all food labels that breastcancer "non-profits" are promoting to raise money. Some organizations tell the public to help them raise money by asking you to visit their websites, but that only gives them "hits" to increase their sponsors.

Another tip, "signing" an online Petition is not acceptable, so don't fall for such antics. An ethical non-profit, or professional will not request your visit to their website, nor use "cookies" placed on your computer when you visit their site.

Purchase the Breastcancer Postage Stamp, the Post Office will always give you your charitable deduction receipt. Its a valid form of fund raising.

In loving memory of a beloved friend, Margaret Baillargeon, of Dallas, Texas, (highlighted below) who passed away February 2006 after a more than valiant fight against this horrendous disease. Dear sister, I'll miss you each day.

For my friend Joan, highlighted below, who has just been told that she has lung cancer (March 2006). Please hold her in your heart and those who will be trying to help her. May you have the wondrous physicians I had, Joan. I love you--Be well, please.

For Anna Stevens and "Laura" , and thousands of other dear sisters who fought valiantly to protect other women, through the loss of their own lives, yet lived to released their full case histories, and medical records so one day I may *document their stories.

"To speak gratitude is courteous and pleasant, to enact gratitude is generous and noble, but to live gratitude is to touch Heaven (Johannes A. Gaertner)."

Dr. Tom Fletcher, a radiologist who re-read my mammogram and found the sites, told me my dogged determination, and the "cytokeratin staining (of the cells in my lymph nodes) is revolutionizing breast cancer."

Dr. Ron Anderson, President & CEO of Dallas County Hospital District, President of the Texas Hospital Association, and a dear friend, who answered my first call for help (and always has), and Dr. Norman Gant, a respected friend, big tease, "Dallas Forty" partner, internationally known author of many volumes on obstetrics-gynecology, and President of the American Board of Gynecology (ABOG).

Dear people, Brent (another "Forty" and Leadership Dallas brother) for always caring, and Willey, who knowing I could not have live flowers or plants due to chemo's impact on my white count, took astonishingly beautiful photographs of flowers, close up, at the Florida Botanical Gardens, and mailed them to me. They are now framed and mounted in my den.

To those physicians who have stepped forward bravely to acknowledge a new paradigm in this fight against breast cancer and standard protocols, Texas oncologists:

Dr. Jerry D. Fain with Southwest Regional Cancer Center, Austin, Texas, and Dr. John "Kent" Osborne, recently moved to Houston from The Cancer Therapy Research Center, San Antonio and Dr. Peter Ravdin his colleague at CTRC.

For the outstanding and out-spoken expertise and caring for those with breastcancer, great oncology surgeons, William C. Dooley, MD, (former chief at Hopkins), and Susan Love, MD (who gave her time for PROJECT! OUTREACH's spring 2006 no-cost mass screening in Oklahoma City.

I have not one positive comment to make about the oncologist I had at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, especially when he out rightly criticized my surgeon [after the fact, thank you]. He was aloof, did not speak English on a 2 year old level (he said he was from Italy) and he did not tell me the truth about having reviewed my pathology slides. He was shockingly unprofessional. He lied. That institution is now paying attention to the cancer I was fighting and well as spoke to me at one of our national conferences about my interest in thyroid cancer or conditions in relation to breastcancer. Up to that year, they all told me there was no connection, until that banquet in 2002.

To the brave, intellectually curious, honest pathologists (especially Dr. Max Wells) with Seton NW Hospital in Austin, and Maria Merino, M.D., at NIH, Pathology, and Lance Liotta, M.D., chief, who led me to her, because they dared to look further into this "just DCIS" diagnosis.

To Dr. John Coscia, once in Fort Worth, the person I believe saved my life: A special breast radiologist, in whom I have a high-level of respect and admiration referred me to the radiologist in my new town who found the cancer.  We caught this, Chip and now may be "the right time!" "Chip" may be reached at The Arrington Cancer Center in Amarillo. Just call breast radiology and ask for "Chip."

To the wondrous chaplains at Seton NW Hospital, including Father Larry who spiritually led me into my second mastectomy, when I felt that I had lost contact with my spiritual self. Father Larry is now head of Social Services for the Diocese of Austin, Texas (and pitch-hitting in Central Texas parishes as needed).

For my oncologist, Jerry Fain MD, who never failed to phone, be 'there' for me, and helped convince me that there are some things in life over which we have little control—and his faith for me, and in me.  Dr. Fain's competence, ethics, and love for his family, patients, and his God, created a possibility that I knew I could deal with. . . whatever that outcome may be. To this day, he has never failed me, and I have the utmost confidence in his dedication not only to those above but his continuing education. THIS DAY MEANS NOW, 2006.

My second breast surgeon, Jane Nelson MD, FACS (Austin, Texas) who did what she knew had to be done, leading to the discovery of the metastasis. She led me to my oncologist, and wonderful anesthesiologists (who made sure I could breath well during surgery that time) and the pathologist who did the special staining.  She's braved other wars, too.

The faith and love given to me by new friends in my new city, and those dear ones "back home:" Margaret Baillargeon who braved coming out of her breast cancer recovery to be my advocate with my first surgeon, and with her husband, Bob, went to Prague for me because that was all they think of doing—but after five years on Tamoxafin had to fight to live after they found many, many spinal tumors, and brain tumors. I knew Tamoxafin would never last...and openly cautioned Margaret and Bob, and they took action. Now, February 2006, my beloved friend, a sister, for many years, passed away. This should never have happened...she was ER/PgR +, and supposedly HER2neu negative (yet all of her siblings had died from cancer). Margaret, I shall miss you every day of my life.

Angie, who couldn't be more of a sister were she related to me, for standing by to drive my medical records and pathology materials 200 miles, twice, be with me on weekends, stay with me during nights of illness and fear, traveling to go to church with me every Sunday before "chemo" or another consultative trip was being launched—wondrous friend, wondrous person; dear colleagues and old time friends, including the men who are hanging in there out of their love and concern for this chronic killer of women, and now many men (cardiovascular drugs, and family histories of breastcancer, must alert men early in their lives, too).

I cannot leave out "Annette," a friend of many years, in Dallas, and that city's most highly valued individual, once Dallas' Mayor, who was always there for me. Shortly after my first surgery, brain cancer was detected, and we lost her incredible life and gifts in a short period of time. Her loss, to me, is still very painful.

My health insurance company eased my search for a new Team: "Karen" with Anthem, and "Cheryl" (now Amerihealth) were my case managers until the companies changed over. Withdrawal occurred—but Cigna is here for me now.

This would not be complete without naming "Joan" who came back into my life from high school, and worked days and nights living 1500 miles away to design this web site, and who never gave up being patient with me, especially during times when I could not think, keep my head up and respond to her directions via E-Mail and ICQ. Often her typed words came across my computer screen, "Awwww.  You can do it."  Because of another physician's arrogance, there has only been one night when I couldn't reach my doctor. I'd received some upsetting 'news' about my cancer, and Joan 'rode" out the night with me online. Anger kept her going over the incident! Such love, for so many years! And, she knows from whence I came. . .

There were special new people in my life, too: Sister Carol, helped bring me back from dehydration during one of the most severe chemo reactions with 'tiny sips' of crushed ice and electrolytes (Gatorade) for hours before I could even get to a hospital, and spent nights with me after surgeries, and bad times when family couldn't. Seton NW Hospital in Austin, Texas employees and chaplains were incredibly caring and always there when needed, and the loving care of my nurse when I got the 'news.'

Especially to Dean and Sherry (who've been here for me way before this began and still are). Patsy Callaway (a colleague with Texas Child Protective Services and Family Outreach) who coincidentally happened to move to Austin when I did) often comes up as the one person I know won't talk about "cancer, cures or 'chemo," to me, and goes to surgery ready to take up the sword to protect me. Eleanor who helped push me from hearing the mammogram report to the biopsy, the lab, and made me eat, from "day one." And my Detroit high school class of 19_ _ (the females will kill me if I put in our graduation year), which stays in touch by a long E-mail list. Their sharing early impressions of our lives together spurred me on, and I can never thank them enough.

Now, nearing the end of "chemo," to Barbara, a psychologist friend who knows me so well and affirms the realities of what I've gone through when they've saddened or frightened me. To survive this assault one experiences a battle of the inconceivable proportions, with physical pain and loss added, for no apparent reason—the cancer can't be seen, nor was it anticipated. That I believe is the reason such illnesses surface early child abuse. Its impact is similar.

Ricardo, twice hit by cancer, who taught me how to ask God to help ME and not worry about helping HIM figure out what I needed—who 'teamed' with my oncologist in moving me to a higher plane of spirituality.

Last, but by no means least, Dr. Keith Kesler, the psychoanalyst who has a kindness and caring for those of us dealing with cancer. My good fortune is that he is board-certified in emergency medicine and so willingly at times, carried me over torrential waters, and assured me he would be "there" when I had no confidence left. I have given him permission to use my E-mails to him for a future book we must write on the effect severe child abuse has on children. That's the least I can do.

Now, in 2006, I have to give special gratitude to two other entities that entered my life in the past six years—formerly known as the Texas Commission for the Blind, now Department of Assistive and Rehabilitative Services (DARS), Division for Blind Services, the incredibly astute, empathetic, and caring certified rehab teachers, technology trainers, counselors, staff, and of course their director in the West Texas region—to Gaye, Susan, Steve, and our support group members—if you hadn't been one step ahead of my vision these past years, I don't think I'd be any where near the adapting to live independently, as I am, now. And, you've given me the right to "hurt," and move on. Thank you, special people—many who have gone ahead of me on this path, themselves.

Last, but by no means, least, thanks to the Post-Polio Institute, especially their dedicated Director, Dr. Richard L. Bruno. Even though I knew I had Post-Polio Syndrome since it was diagnosed in 1981, I had no idea of the research advances, and that achieved by Dr. Bruno, until someone told me to read, "Polio Paradox," in 2002. My doctors referred me to Dr. Bruno, and thereupon I met a force stronger than myself.

Without his expertise, openness, caring, and dedication to the truism that "Polio patients must not be forgotten...," he never the less maintained his own orders, and led out of a near crisis--not being able to swallow, or move my left leg—but I had to make significant changes, specifically, rest and "shed your Type A personality," and conserve to preserve (which until that time, was like hearing that order in Ketchua (Peruvian ancient language). But, I am doing it—and he never let up on me. Now adapted to a motorized chair (Jazzy 1122), leg brace, crutches, a seated Rollater for the good days, and avoiding stress like the plague, he forced me to either change or go back to the early days in my life having Polio—perhaps, worse.

Oh, and who can forget my "Ya Ya Sisters," our united, small annexcafe breastcancer support group. We have bonded, haven't we! If only we could meet one day.

You've all taught me so much, but most of all that I only have to reach out, and you are there. That is why I can still be "here" for hundreds who e-mail me, sometimes daily.

Thank you—so very much.

I live gratitude each day in your honor. I shall always pass it on.

*   www.hinkley-thompson.info

Reviewed: Sunday, December 10, 2006