It took a little while for things to calm down after the wedding weekend. My immediate challenge was to continue to live life every day in an upbeat manner now that the “big” event was concluded. However, this was pretty simple for me. Why? I always kept in mind that I was the luckiest man alive. And this meant new goals for me to set—and to reach.
But, before I get to the post-wedding tasks that I took on, let’s look back much further. Our next discussion is something I didn’t cover earlier. Yet, it is something important to detail at this point—in the interest of openness and full transparency about my life. I am a far better person today than ever before. My life journey on life’s road well predates my getting cancer. I hope you can gain some insights from the part of my journey described below. Here goes.
As I noted previously, I have been a high achiever throughout my adult life. Ph.D. at 26. First book published at 30. Chairperson of my department at Hofstra at 30. Full professor at 35. Distinguished professor at 40. Not bad for someone who was the first member of his family to attend college, right?
I mention these achievements not to brag, but as a prelude to showing how human I was—and still am. I have flaws and self-doubts like virtually everyone else. Many of them I recognized when I was young. Others took a while to grasp. I am still learning about myself today. A life turning point for me occurred in the summer of 1994. This is a difficult story to tell. And I have not shared it with very many people. But I overcame this too. And so can you if you face a tough situation.
I decided to teach a class overseas, in Rotterdam, Netherlands, and to bring my family with me. Jennifer was a teenager and Stacey a pre-teen. We rented a nice place to stay and leased a car. We arrived a couple of days before I was scheduled to teach at a Rotterdam university to adjust to the time change and to get acclimated. Things looked so promising.
Then, everything went wrong. I got lost driving in Rotterdam’s seemingly endless traffic loops. Although the place was nice, it was not as nice as our Long Island, NY home. The family argued a lot. AND I had a growing anxiety about teaching. I questioned my abilities and my knowledge.
On the first day of classes, I took the local train to the university and walked over to campus. For some reason, I felt nervous just getting to the classroom. The first class went well—except in my own head. I thought I was a disaster. By the time I returned to the place we were renting, I was hyperventilating. Then I was crying. I was undergoing a full-fledged panic attack. I also felt I was letting everyone down.
So after ONE DAY of teaching, Linda (by herself) had to book a return flight home for us. It was arranged that the other Hofstra professor teaching in Rotterdam would teach my class as well. The leased car was returned (at a loss to us of about $2,000). And I actually rode in a wheelchair at the airport, since I was virtually unable to move. Linda and my two daughters were worried about me. Thankfully, we arrived home with no other issues.
Other than my continuing anxieties. I felt like I had been run over by a truck.
Once we returned home, I became a prisoner in our bedroom for about a week. I couldn’t talk or eat. The bedroom door stayed closed and I couldn’t get myself to converse with the friends who came by to try to comfort me.
Initially, there was only one friend with I whom would talk, Bob of Janine and Bob. They drove over two hours from New Jersey. At that point, I had known Bob for about 25 years. We had played together (for example, our own version of the Olympics—complete with a jump over a Mr. Turtle kiddie pool), debated everything possible all the time, and even vacationed together. We always had to “win” our debates.
[I cannot continue without mentioning the sadness I will always feel over the loss of the third of our three amigos, Ken—the beloved husband of Rita as well as a father and grandfather. Ken had a long battle with cancer and was upbeat until the end. Ken, we drifted apart for a while. But, we reconnected and today I consider you one of my heroes. Rest in peace.]
Bob and I talked for quite a while. He was—and is— within the inner circle of my community. So too is Janine. Thank you for being there for me.
Next, I knew I really needed to see a therapist of some sort. I was recommended to a psychiatrist, who also suggested that I see a psychologist. Only then did I learn the different primary roles of each of the two types of therapists: one prescribing medications versus the other doing counseling.
Another aside: Until that time, I thought that seeing a therapist or taking medications for psychological issues would make me weak. After all, a strong person should be able to handle this kind of stuff on his or her own. Once again, that was a DUMB perception. I realize now that a strong person is actually the one who recognizes that problems exist and does everything possible to correct them.
Thus, I have seen both a psychiatrist and psychologist since 1994, and taken (and still take) appropriate medications. A special shout out to SP and TA for your help and support. SP, our ongoing regular sessions have been invaluable. I am more content with myself than I ever was before!
Why relate such a personal story? If I can overcome (manage) my demons and anxieties, so can you.
Professional help works—along with a willingness to be helped.
Back to life post-wedding. Since my intent was never to miss a class, I was back at Hofstra on Monday October 26. And I was stoked to teach to the best of my ability. This continues today. Since my full-time retirement, I teach a course each fall. [More on this later.]
At the same time, I continued with my social media activity and research for academic journals, and also started work on the 13th edition of one of our textbooks. I initiated and hosted a couple of meetings with our department’s alumni advisory board. I also became more active at the gym with an expanding list of things that I could do. Linda and I started to go out a little bit more with our friends (depending on how I felt), and we had dinner each week with Jennifer and Phil; they’re the ones who live two blocks from us. Weekly meditation was still on the menu. [Although not any longer, since Jennifer got promoted and works longer hours. I didn’t want to go alone.] And we regularly saw Stacey and Adam. Naps are an almost every day occurrence. Life was—and is—good (make that great).
Sometime in 2016, I began to think about when I would like to retire from full-time work. At that point, I was at Hofstra for 41 years, and wondered how much longer I wanted to stay. My ultimate decision was driven more by how I wish to live life every day, more than by concerns about my health—although the two factors are certainly intertwined.
I am fortunate that Hofstra University has an excellent retirement plan and an easy transition to retiring— rather than going cold turkey. In August 2016, I signed a 5-semester (2.5-year) commitment that culminated in my full-time retirement on December 31, 2018 (effective on March 1, 2019). Through this agreement, I received a full salary and fringe benefits, as well as leaves (sabbaticals) for the spring 2017 and spring 2018 semesters. Yet again, I was a lucky man.
My intent earlier in my career was to be at Hofstra for 50 years. But after my surgery, and given the instability of many jobs, I was very satisfied to finish up with 44 full- time years. Not bad for someone who always used to worry about so many things. [And I’ll try make it to 50 years as a part-timer.]
What was next? Working on social media. Writing other books that are not health-related. Getting myself out of the house more. And giving back. Living life every day— as long as I can and as well as I can.