Illness and injury can be devastating, life threatening and debilitating. For many, the road to recovery is paved with fear and uncertainty, while others find a way to push through. What fuels an individual’s recovery and shapes their story?
Dr. Terry Rabinowitz, a psychiatrist Fletcher Allen Health Care in Burlington, said biology and environment are factors.
“You have to look at each person as an individual ... not with the expectation that some who can’t recover or get the zest back are failures versus those who do would be considered successes,” Rabinowitz said. “You need to consider those two major components that make one more or less resilient ... Biologically, that’s who they are. The other stuff is just a consequence.”
Individuals recover in as many ways as they are unique: meditation, religion, work, yoga, exercise, hobbies, reading and more. Distraction from current worries is a benefit of engaging in something you enjoy.
“I think what helps people feel better is that they’re trying to feel better,” Rabinowitz said. “You may not be successful, but the fact that you’re trying suggests there is some hope. Just by making the effort, there is some healing there, there is some recovery there. If the effort pays off, there’s even more healing.” |
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We spoke to some area residents who found a way to heal — through work, creativity, camaraderie and movement. Here are their stories:
Bead business began as therapy
SHELBURNE — In the midst of receiving chemotherapy for breast cancer two years ago, Helena Maxwell discovered her love of beads.
As Maxwell, 38, of Charlotte researched the disease, she read about a connection between rose quartz and improved circulation.
“I started beading with rose quartz because it was associated with healing qualities,” said Maxwell, owner of Beads and Things, who learned she had stage 3 breast cancer at age 36.
She made necklaces for herself with rose quartz stones.
“But that wasn’t going to heal me,” she said. “It was something to make me feel better.”
Maxwell wanted to thank the nurses who cared for her, so she made bracelets. Word of her creations spread, and people asked her to host jewelry parties. She wore a scarf over her bald head and big necklaces around her neck to detract from her double mastectomy.
“That’s why I like big chunky things. I want the attention to come up,” she said. “Most people don’t even notice that I don’t have breasts.”
Searching for the beads brought Maxwell renewed energy.
“It’s almost like a rush to find the beads,” she said. “That’s what keeps me going. This is the first thing I’ve done that hasn’t made me bored.”
At a fund-raiser for Susan G. Komen — Race for the Cure, Maxwell expected to sell five pieces; she sold between 50 and 60. The success spurred her to rent a studio, which birthed a beading shop where she offers classes, parties and instruction.
“This is not a store. This is a way of life for me. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have this,” Maxwell said of her Shelburne shop Beads and Things. She donates a portion of the proceeds from the jewelry she makes to Lund Family Center and Komen. “This is my therapy. I don’t go and talk to anyone. I have my customers, and I talk to them.”
Doing something she loves for work fulfills a long-standing dream.
"I felt like if I could go through cancer, I could do anything,” she said.
For bread baker, attitude was everything
WESTFORD — Artisan bread baker Gerard Rubaud never questioned if he was going to recover from his paralyzing stroke in 2004, he just questioned when.
The stroke wasn’t Rubaud’s first brush with death. Decades earlier, Rubaud, then a 25-year-old professional ski racer, was trapped in an avalanche. The accident landed him in the hospital for a week with water in his lungs and shoulder strain.
“From that experience, your attitude towards everything changes,” said Rubaud, 66, his carefully chosen words tinged with a French accent. “Once you have died once, you don’t look forward to dying a second time.”
His determined outlook is indicative of his intrinsic inertia, his philosophy of constant persistence physically and mentally. During his stroke, he forced himself to stay conscious.
“Before I passed out, I wanted to be in the hands of the guy who was going to save my life,” he said.
Rubaud’s stroke left him paralyzed on his right side, unable to even move his thumb. After several months of physical therapy, a persistent Rubaud bent his finger — motivation for his grueling recovery.
“It changed everything,” Rubaud said. “I knew I was not going to stay stiff forever because this thumb could move.”
He was eager to leave the hospital and nursing home.
“The reason I can work today is because I didn’t give up after 12 months or 18 months,” he said.
During nine months of intense physical recuperation, Rubaud baked bread in his head.
“I was making it because I knew mentally I needed something to keep my mind occupied,” he said. “I knew baking would save my butt.”
Rubaud regained 85 percent of his strength, although he drags his right leg when he walks. For several months after he resumed baking his crusty Gerard’s bread, an assistant helped. Now he lifts 50 pound bags of flour, runs mixers, shapes bread and loads the wood-fired ovens.
Rubaud works from 10 p.m. to 9 a.m. five days a week, churning out an impressive 500-600 loaves sold at area stores, including City Market in Burlington and Healthy Living in South Burlington. Although his yield is half of his pre-stroke production, he believes the quality is superior.
Work is important to Rubaud and crucial to his recovery.
“If I did not have it, I’d be in bad shape,” he said. “It’s therapy before anything else. If I had to watch TV everyday, I’d be a basket case ... The bottom line is it’s a matter of attitude.”
Dragonheart motivates and bonds members
Camaraderie and a common goal motivate members of Dragonheart Vermont, a dragon boat racing team of breast cancer survivors and supporters that paddle on Lake Champlain.
Paddling is a possible therapy for breast cancer survivors at risk of lymphedema. Beyond the physical benefits, the experience brings together survivors, supporters and the recently diagnosed, said breast cancer survivor and Dragonheart founder Linda Dyer, 54, of Richmond.
“People who are just finishing treatment come down. You see them tired and tentative,” she said. “But when you put them in this boat, there’s an amazing connection you feel with the water and the person sitting next to you. And you know that boat won’t go unless all 20 people paddle with you. It’s all encompassing."
Dyer said personal connections outweigh the bad aspects of cancer.
“I have this whole network of friends,” Dyer said. “We’re supportive when we need it. We don’t spend our whole time talking about breast cancer.”
Exercise and sharing information helps Jessica Pasquarello, 23, of Burlington, who was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 21. Before her diagnosis, Pasquarello was active and a runner. After eight rounds of chemotherapy, two surgeries, radiation and hormone therapy, she could barely walk a mile.
“Dragonboating helps me with range of motion and strength,” Pasquarello said. Interacting with other women who had breast cancer motivated Pasquarello to start lifting weights and run her first marathon.
Donna Butkus, 60, of Williston said breast cancer brought her family closer and spurred she and her husband to join Drangonheart.
“It allowed my husband and I to do something like that together that we never did before. That was a big thing,” Butkus said. “Getting out there and doing something so vigorous like that and meeting many other people was like lighting a fire under you.”
Paddling brings her emotional peace.
“You forget everything when you go out there,” she said. “You’re focused on paddling and keeping time with everybody. It’s such a relief to go out there and not think about anything else.”
This year, the team raised $36,000 for Dragonheart and $36,000 for Vermont Respite House; last year they raised $35,000 for a new ultrasound machine to diagnose breast and prostate cancer at Fletcher Allen Health Care in Burlington.
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