Care, the Source of All Cure Care is something other than cure. Cure means "change." A doctor, a lawyer, a minister, a social worker-they all want to use their professional skills to bring about changes in people's lives. They get paid for whatever kind of cure they can bring about. But cure, desirable as it may be, can easily become violent, manipulative, and even destructive if it does not grow out of care. Care is being with, crying out with, suffering with, feeling with. Care is compassion. It is claiming the truth that the other person is my brother or sister, human, mortal, vulnerable, like I am. When care is our first concern, cure can be received as a gift. Often we are not able to cure, but we are always able to care. To care is to be human.
I’m a 56-year-old Information Systems Manager at a major Teaching Hospital. In my other life, I'm a community activist, union officer, creative writer, Episcopal lay minister and hospital chaplain. I grew up in Glastonbury Connecticut, living there until 1986. Since then I've lived in Chicago, Boston and now California.
I live in Tahoe Park, a working-class neighborhood of Sacramento in a converted Catholic Rectory with my two cats, Tiger and Muffin. For the first time in years, I am mowing the lawn, and fixing what goes wrong in an 80+year old building. I once more enjoy trips to Home Depot, and after years of living in a college town which rolls up the sidewalks at night, I enjoy being back in the hustle and bustle of a city neighborhood.
In my free time, I work on restoring (and camping in) a classic VW Camper Van, bicycling writing, reading, making or listening to music.
I'm a 3-time survivor on Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma (also surviving a life-threatening treatment-related infection in 2005), and have been healthy since a Bone Marrow Transplant in 2001. I’m a peer counselor for cancer and BMT patients.