Remembering Dr. Grossman

There are people in this world who touch our lives and our hearts in a major way. These people are not just “people,” but extraordinary human beings who are actively trying to make a difference in this world. They are the ones helping others, helping the environment and really stepping up to do something much more greater than they can possibly comprehend. And no matter how large it is, or how much it requires of them, they will not be afraid and hope that someone else will do it. No, they are brave enough and smart enough to take on this mission in their lives and do it no matter what. They feel called to do this because they know that this is what they must do. This is what they are here for and this is how they can help others.

This, I feel, accurately describes one person I had the privilege to know many years ago: Dr. A. Richard Grossman.

As many people who know me are aware, I am a burn survivor. My burns are the result of a car accident I was in at the age of 20 months. I would not be alive today if it weren’t for the firefighters who pulled me out from underneath the burning wreckage of a car, but I would not have recovered from these burns if it had not been for Dr. Grossman and the entire staff of the Burn Unit at the Sherman Oaks Hospital. Even though I spent many years since then in and out of different hospials undergoing reconstructive surgery because of my burns (I lost my left ear and the fingers of my left hand in that accident), Dr. Grossman was my very first doctor on this journey and he was, ever since, the one doctor I went to and turned to before making any decisions about anything related to recovery from the burns and rebuilding what was damaged. My family moved around a lot, but I never lost touch with Dr. Grossman. We often called him up about one thing or another, or we sent him letters and cards. Sometimes we would hear about something that Dr. Grossman has done or see him and his son, Peter, on the news. I even heard about his other son, David, who was involved in TV, and at the end of a show, when David’s name appeared, I’d point it out and say, “That’s my doctor’s son!”

Yes, Dr. Grossman was indeed “my doctor.” For a lot of people, we have so many doctors or surgeons, but for some, there will be that ONE doctor who stands out above the rest. That one doctor you know you can trust and who you respect for being so  dedicated to his career. Dr. Grossman really was the best doctor I have ever known, and he was one of THE doctors who made a difference in my life, along with a few others. I never forgot about him no matter how old I got or where I lived. I tried to stay in touch with him as often as possible, even when cards were returned in the mail or emails bounced. But I never forgot about him and I never stopped thinking about him. He was truly a remarkable man who did remarkable things for so many people. A whole room just lit up the minute he entered through the door. To this day I can still remember his smile and even his voice.

So I was deeply saddened to learn recently that Dr. Grossman had passed away. I was in tears while reading his obituary. He really made such a big difference in this world and he really helped so many people.

God bless you, Dr. Grossman. Your work will live on and your legacy will be cherished. Rest in peace, Doctor. The world may have lost a talented and skilled doctor but I am glad there are others who will continue your work and preserve your memory. Thank you for all the work you did and for helping so many people in this world, including me. You will never be forgotten and we will always keep you in our hearts.

People like that

For all of last week, the kids weren’t feeling so good. Jesse had a terrible cough and stuffy nose and Jennifer was complaining of stomach pain and nausea. Jennifer was not as sick at first – she was well enough to go on her class field trip – but as the week progressed, she got worse and kept coming home from school complaining of discomfort. And at first, Jesse stopped coughing so much, and I thought he was better so I stopped giving him medicine, but then it returned with a vengeance, along with stomach pain. So yesterday I took the kids to their doctor to find out what was up. Turns out they both have a stomach virus.

After we were done at the doctor’s office, we drove through downtown Eugene on our way to the grocery store. As I drove, I happened to notice these girls in the car next to me, staring wide-eyed at me. I had my hair up and when I wear my hair up, the third degree burn scars on the back of my head are visible. The fire permanently damaged some part of the hair on my scalp, so I have hair missing in the back, making my back hairline uneven. This, too, can be seen, along with the left-ear-that-is-not-an-ear (I lost my ear in the accident so the doctors reconstructed an ear for me made out of rib cartilage). Judging from the looks on these teen girls’ faces as they freaked out over my face and head, I could figure out what they were reacting to. I completely ignored them, stifled a growl and drove off. Far be it from me to stay within their view so they’d have to withstand such horror!

But, seriously, even as this was something that I’m used to by now (after over 30 years of living with these scars, I’ve seen the worst of people in how they react to my burns!), it still kinda hurt. It made me sad, you know? That there are young people out there still reacting so negatively to someone who is not “beautiful.” I know we live in a world where beauty is EVERYTHING and if you are not beautiful, people will shun you and talk negatively of you. But it saddens me that we are allowing the future generation to grow up thinking this kind of logic is okay. Why are we teaching our children that it’s okay to react so negatively to people with burn scars, deformities or even skin ailments? Why are we teaching them to think less of someone who is not so appealing to the eye?

Given that these girls were teenagers, I was reminded of one other unpleasant experience involving teenaged girls I came into contact with. Once, while I was in church, I was sitting in a pew in front of a group of teenaged girls. (And, yes, I had my hair up!) It wasn't long before I realized the girls behind me were kicking the pew I was sitting in. I turned around to let them know this was uncomfortable. They only laughed and said, “Sorry.” Then they did it again. I was so annoyed by it, I left the church. Yet I was saddened that young people could get away with being so mean to someone like that. And that, worse of all, they thought it was okay to do that!

No. It is NOT okay.

It’s rude. It’s not nice. And it hurts. Ya know? Have a little compassion for someone not as BLESSED or LUCKY as you to be so beautiful.

I am grateful that there are people I know who are not so shallow and who are kind to others no matter their appearance. These are the people I cling to. These are the people who I feel are important people in my life.

But the biggest kind of comfort I took from that experience? Knowing that my own daughter will not grow up to be like those girls. Knowing that other little girls who have accepted me will not grow up to be like those girls. And you know why? Because they know me as a person. They know me as a human being – and that’s what we all are underneath the burn scars. We’re human beings with feelings. With personalities. With hopes and dreams.

My reminder of this was reinforced after Jennifer found out about what had happened. Of course, she was irritated. She said, “Those girls!” Then she stuck her tongue out in the direction we’d driven away from. (Haha. My feelings exactly.)

I only shook my head and told her the same thing I have been telling myself for years, “There are always going to be people like that.”

She frowned and said, “I don’t like people like that.”

Yeah. Me, neither.

Smarter than SpongeBob

Last night, as I was washing Jennifer's hair in the bathtub, she grew sad and told me that she had something to confess. I asked her what it was and she explained that the kids in her classroom thought I look ugly. (Here we go again, with the whole "looking ugly" thing! Sheesh! But with children, this kinda thing is inconsequential, because children are not mature enough to understand that there are burn survivors in this world.) I have visited Jennifer's classroom MANY times. The people there know me because I am there so much. (And I kinda have a face that's hard to forget and easy to recognize! LOL) So I have been there enough for her classmates to know what I look like.

This confession did not surprise me at all. I explained to Jennifer that it's only natural for children to think that, because they don't understand why I look the way I do. We discussed how some people try to cover up their scars with make-up and stuff. I told her I would never do that. I am not so ashamed of my face that I will cover it up for the world. I do wear make-up for special occasions, but not every day. And it's only BECAUSE of the special occasion.

I guess she felt bad telling me this because she assured me that she thought I was "beautiful" and she counted off all of the good things I have done for her and her little brother. That just warmed my heart. It's not every day a mother gets thanks and appreciation like that after giving so much of herself to her children every day. I let her know I was glad she felt that way and I appreciated how she told me that.

We talked again about my burn scars. I told her I couldn't do anything to fix it. I have severe third degree burns. The skin is destroyed and it can't be repaired. I told her some people wear skin-type gloves and coverings over their scars but I won't do that. That thought made her remember an episode of SpongeBob Squarepants, where SpongeBob wanted to have muscles so badly that he bought fake ones to show off. She recounted the episode, though I already knew it because I've seen it a million times. She said that was a stupid thing to do. I agreed and I told her I wouldn't do that. "I'm not going to be a fake," I said. "This is the real me, and I want the world to see the real me."

She thought for a minute, smiled then said, "You're smarter than SpongeBob."

I laughed and said, "I certainly hope so."