Profiles in Courage:  Dr. JoyEllyn Ryan

Journey into Joy

October 19, 2008

When Dr. Robinson asked me to speak on “Putting JOY back into Life…” I found it difficult to relive nearly 40 years of pain and tragedy as I reviewed my life’s journey.  I did not see it so much as Journey into Joy, but more as Tragedy & Triumph culminating in the reasons I added JOY to my name.

1934:

Considering that I am 74 years old, most of what I will share with you will be bullet facts.  I was a depression baby born of parents that met in college and a child of World War II.  When Oprah Winfrey and Suze Orman talk about “making do, hunkering down and returning to cash society,” I understand.

I was the first born and the only girl in a generation of male cousins.  As an only child, I became my father’s son, sports-minded and competitive.  He taught me not only to do my best, but to be all that I am.

For the majority of my life my mantra was the poem “Invictus” by William Ernest Henley.  Particularly: 

In the fell clutch of circumstance…

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

I am the master of my fate;

I am the captain of my soul.

1954:

My first 20 years were ideal and I believed in the 1950’s American girl’s dream:  children and my own house.  Remember “Cheaper by the Dozen”?

December 26, 1954:  I married my high school sweetheart, Paul, who was in the Air Force.  I was proud to be a military wife.  The day I learned I was pregnant with my first child was the same day he got orders to be deployed to Korea.  I was clueless that it was the beginning of the end of my dreams.

Upon our return to civilian life, we built a new home in the Chicago suburbs.  I had 4 children in 5 years.  The problem?  Paul returned from Korea a broken and emotionally disturbed man.

August 14, 1957:

While pregnant with my third child, my second child – Patti Lyn (14months) – after several months in Children’s Hospital in Seattle, WA died.

April 23, 1961:

Three years later, my third child Mark – age 3 ½ – entered the research & development hospital at the University of Illinois in Chicago.  Four months later, Mark succumbed to the same disease that Patti Lyn had.  The disease is so rare that it has no name and was referred to as “hemosiderosis.”  It is similar to leukemia, but in reverse, where the kidneys destroy the red blood cells.

Paul’s violent nightmares, alcoholism, rage and physical abuse became the norm.  One October night, with the help of a neighbor, my two remaining children and I literally escaped to Wisconsin with only the clothes on our backs – never to return to Illinois.  In the 1960’s, a man’s home was considered HIS castle and the police would NOT respond to domestic abuse.

I returned to college and got a degree in education so I could be independent as I had entered the world of single working moms.  Yes, as in the poem, “Invictus”, my head was bloody, but unbowed!

1968:

The onset of the disease that killed two of my children started with convulsions.  Mary Ellen, my youngest, was always a very active and rebellious child.  At age 9, she was diagnosed with epilepsy and was an outpatient at the University of Wisconsin in Madison.  As a teenager, while on the university campus, she heard that marijuana cured epilepsy.  She became a user, which led to other addictions.

Mary always marched to the beat of a different drummer.  She was a talented artist and intelligent – but always challenging authority, a frequent school truant, and when grounded or disciplined, a runaway!

1981:

As a young adult, Mary replaced drugs with alcohol.  Over a holiday weekend, she was arrested.  When she appeared in court the judge gave her a choice:  “Go into rehab or go directly to jail.”  Fortunately for her two daughters, Malia and Danielle, today at age 49, Mary has remained addiction free.

Mary was a rebel without a cause.  I told her she had to find a worthy cause.  So instead of opposing authority, she joined their ranks and when to police academy.  She became one of the first female officers in Wisconsin.  Although she had never fired a gun, she became a sharpshooter.

She elected to work as an officer in the oldest and worst prison in Wisconsin.  Mary always opted to “Go Where Angels Fear to Tread.”  The year was 1993 when the videotaped beating of Rodney King by the LAPD was viewed by millions.  Race riots became rampant, especially in the prison systems throughout the U.S.

One morning I woke with a heavy heart and an uneasy premonition of evil.  At lunch, I surround myself with friends.  During the meal, a judge friend mentioned the lock down of a major prison in Wisconsin due to a riot.

My next call was that Mary had been taken as a hostage at the Waupun prison.  She had been stabbed multiple times.  She would live, but… her pregnancy was in jeopardy because of the hemorrhaging and a partially detached placenta.  An abortion was recommended.  Mary opted not to abort and chose bed confinement for months.  In December a perfectly beautiful baby girl, Danielle, was born.  Tragedy and Triumph!

1952:

At age 38, while I was working full time and completing my Master’s degree, health challenges lead to exploratory surgery resulting in a total hysterectomy.  I bounced back and five years later was declared cancer free.

Personally, I don not believe anyone is ever cancer free.  Cancer cells are everywhere and simply lay dormant until the immune system is depressed.  Then the cancer cells start reproducing at a rapid rate.

Education as a career choice was good.  I quickly advanced teaching many subjects and grade levels from early education of special needs children to college.  I earned a doctorate in educational administration and 13 life licenses – the most achieved by any woman in Wisconsin.  I became a State of Wisconsin consultant in various fields.  At one point I had an office in the state capitol as an educational liaison, which was a really nice name for a lobbyist.

I was offered a position in Washington, D.C., with the Department of Education in the Right to Read program, but chose to stay in Wisconsin because of family.  At the height of my career success, I remember stating, “I love my job.  I will never quit or retire.”  Wrong!  When tragedy strikes, priorities change.

My firstborn son Daniel, now married, owned a home in Milwaukee and had two small children.  He was never ill, never even had a tooth cavity.  He was my emotional support and my best friend.  In the mid-1980’s during the Reagan years, the interest rates were as high as 18% and the economy was depressed (remember the economic trickle down theory?).  Dan had to sell his house and move his family to another part of Wisconsin for employment.  His new job exposed him to unsafe levels of formaldehyde. 

Within a year, he was diagnosed with environmentally induced leukemia.  Because he was ill, he was fired from his job and lost all insurance coverage. 

His only hope was a bone marrow transplant exceeding $300,000 in cost.  Mary Ellen, his sister, was a perfect match and became his bone marrow donor.  The transplant was successful; but due to a medical error and an overdose of morphine, he went in to a coma for six weeks and died.  Dan’s death was tragic and totally unnecessary!

September 1987:

Immediately following Daniel’s funeral, I flew to Washington, D.C.  I challenged the EPA (Environmental Protection Agency), the Cancer Research Center, the National Institutes of Health and a number of senators.  No doors were closed to this warrior mother!

They all listened, but they all had excuses as to why their hands were tie4d.  I learned that cancer was an avoidable disease!  Repeatedly I was told that the lack of regulation and corporate greed that continued to pollute the air we breath, the water we drink and the foods we eat, were the modern day causes of cancer.  Consequently, the losing battle against cancer.

My grief was overwhelming!  I was in the mother of all depressions.  I was not only grieving for my son and his two fatherless pre-school children, but for my other two deceased children – Mark and Patti Lyn.

My intense grief left me feeling helpless and hopeless.  I woke each morning and recited, “This is the day the Lord has made.  Let us be glad and rejoice.”  Then I would look in the mirror and respond, “So what? Who cares?”

In the meantime, I was being treated for many different physical problems.  A liver biopsy indicated toxic levels of diesel and formaldehyde.  How so?  I was a top-level educational consultant for the State Department of Education in a new Wisconsin state office building.  A colonoscopy detected colon cancer.  A second opinion at an affiliate of a well known Rochester, MN, medical complex said that time was of the essence.  After a day of extensive testing, I lift without confirming surgery.  The following week, I received a letter from them telling me that if I did not have the surgery immediately, they would NOT take me as a patient because I would be a statistic that they did not want on their records.  I kept the letter.

Each morning, I would look in the mirror and say, “I can live, I can die and I do not care!”  To me, cancer was a Blessing.  To me, cancer was a Legitimate form of Suicide.  I was SO sick and tired of being sick and tired that I did not care!  I no longer had the energy or the will to live.

To appease my family, I reluctantly agreed to have colon cancer surgery.  I was told I may have a colostomy bag.  On Tuesday the following week, 18 inches of my colon was removed.  Because of my poor health, the 4-hour surgery resulted in a life-and-death coma lasting four days.

When an oncologist came to my hospital room to discuss chemotherapy and radiation, I told him to talk to patients who cared.  I did not!  I was world weary.  I had made peace with death and felt comfortable that I would be joining my three deceased children.

Then a Unique Event Happened!

If you have ever had a “waking dream” you’ll understand what happened next.  If not, I lack the vocabulary to describe the experience nor can I really explain it.  I will simply give you a few details.

In that waking dream, I was given two words:  “CHOOSE LIFE!”  I said, “NO!”  I did not choose to continue to live in pain, depression and disability.  I was told again, “CHOOSE LIFE!”  Again, I said, “NO!”  If I chose to live, I wanted happiness, energy, health and mobility.

The next morning talking to my image in the mirror, I asked, “If I choose LIFE, how do I begin?”  The response was:  “Add JOY to your life.”  As a daily reminder and affirmation, I did…..I added JOY to my name.

Now, the waking dream did not change my medical prognosis; so I went back to the mirror and asked, “With the time I have left, what do I want to do with the remainder of my life?”  I needed to be a human BEING, not a human DOER.

My first travel choice was New Zealand and I had just enough money ($10,000) for airfare for myself and all three of my grandchildren – ages 11, 12 and 13.  We left on Thanksgiving and were gone for three weeks.  We returned to subzero weather and a fierce Wisconsin snowstorm.

To me, New Zealand was utopia; and within two months I returned.  For the next six years, I escaped Wisconsin’s cold and snowy winters by going to the southern hemisphere.  I lived what I refer to as “Exotic Homelessness.”  I traveled the world with only what I could carry, mostly as a backpacker living in communities and youth hostels, renting bedding and a bed.  I even learned about underground transportation.

On one long flight, the young man seated next to me shared his near death experience.  When I said I could relate to that, he said, “Wait, wait, don’t tell me.  Write down what you were told in your waking dream and I will do the same.”  We did and exchanged the message each of us had heard.  We were given the identical words, “CHOOSE LIFE!”

Later, when I met with various medical professionals, each was amazed at my energy.  I shared that I was actually grateful for the reoccurrence of cancer.  Without the grave prognosis of colon cancer, I would not have redirected my life and changed my belief system.  The first time I had cancer, I did not listen and learn.  It took a life-threatening blow for me to realize I had to change my life and reevaluate my beliefs and values.

I had to release the bitterness, the gall of anger and rage over the death of three of my children, to allow the Spirit of Joy to enter.  I had to forgive and turn the page on the past.  I cultivated an attitude of gratitude.

Thanks to JOY, I deal with stress differently.  If a problem arises, I ask, “Will it matter on Monday?”  If not, I let it go.  More than living one day at a time, I try to be present in the moment.  My higher power is the universe and beyond, and it is abundant.  I learned to love myself – unconditionally.  JOY has given me the key to believe in serendipity.  I could give you many examples of how this is true for me, but I’ll just share one story.

For my oldest grandchild’s graduation, I offered to take her on a world tour including an African safari.  She blew the opportunity.  I was able to cancel most of the travel except Africa.  Another friend offered to travel with me, but ended up in the hospital.  So, I concluded that I was destined to travel alone.

November 1997:

The flight to Cape Town, South Africa, is very long.  My seat was next to a young woman holding a baby.  I knew she needed more space, so I vacated my seat and moved to the back of the 747.

As I settled in, I heard a melodious voice behind me.  Remember the image for “Kilroy was here”?  That was me.  Without thinking, I unbuckled my seatbelt, got on my knees and peered over the back of my seat and introduced myself to a man who gave his name as Tim Brady. 

Once we were airborne, Tim changed his seat to sit next to me.  He said he was going to take a train and tour some famous African gardens.  Instead, he opted to join me in my travels.

March 1998:

Three months later, we bought home at Del Tura Country Club on St. Patrick’s Day (a rather appropriate date for two Irish names like Ryan and Brady).

Some people feel that life is filled with peaks and valleys.  To me, it is more like a highway.  The more centered I am, the smoother the road; but I have free choice to drive on the shoulder or in the wrong lane.

In my personal prayer, I ask:

Grant me the wisdom to recognize the opportunities hidden in adversity. 
Grant me to continue to grow to be all that I am, so that in the final sunset,
My rainbow of life experiences has touched others so that they have grown
And experienced JOY because of knowing me.

Yes, I may again have cancer, a stroke or something else; but I am grateful for the last 18 years of health and the abundance of my life.  I am most appreciative of the LOVE that Tim Brady has shared with me.  Thank you.