Thursday

Rhode Island-- homebound and likely to stay that way

OPINION | MARY ANN SORRENTINO

Rhode Island — homebound and likely to stay that way

By Mary Ann Sorrentino,September 4, 2019, 10:26 a.m.

T.F. Green Airport in Warwick, R.I. RHODE ISLAND AIRPORT CORPORATION

The recent decision by Norwegian Airlines to pull its direct service to international destinations from Rhode Island’s T.F. Green Airport leaves the Ocean State more tightly bound by its geographic and imaginary borders. Once Norwegian leaves in September, the only flights to international cities from Green will be the regular Air Canada service from Providence to Toronto.

To a majority of Rhode Islanders — many of whom still consider a drive north from Pawtucket to Norwood, Mass., or southwest to Stonington, Conn., a “day trip”— the news that the nearest gateways to Europe and other faraway places are again Boston’s Logan Airport or Bradley Airport near Hartford, Norwegian’s exit causes little concern.

We Rhode Islanders can be a “stay put” bunch. It is still common to hear locals say, with full amazement, it’s “such a long ride to” whatever border towns surround the state. In reality, the capital city of Providence is less than 45 minutes to an hour from Boston’s South Shore or the Connecticut line.

This cement-foot mindset is, of course, more prevalent in older residents than among our young people who, thankfully, have managed for the most part to give reality a chance. They know that bright lights and big cities like Boston, New Haven, and even New York are reachable by car in less time than it often takes to renew one’s license or get new number plates at the Registry of Motor Vehicles.

In fairness, I also observe, as the years go by, that, thankfully, more Rhode Islanders will will venture to the four corners of the world to expand their horizons. They will be especially and uniquely sad to see Norwegian leave. T.F. Green Airport is, frankly, a heck of a lot easier to get to and use than Logan. Parking is plentiful, and the airport by national standards is relatively new and as comfortable as one could hope for. Bradley, though adequate and despite recent marketing campaigns, always seems like a more taxing journey. This may be because the routes to the Hartford area from Rhode Island are older, less direct, and tedious.

As a frequent overseas traveler, and someone who lives minutes from T.F. Green, my perfect world would include regular flights from Providence to Rome, Paris, Dublin, Madrid, Lisbon, and, of course, London. (From any of those capitals I could connect to the Far East if I didn’t abhor the idea of a full day squished in a plane.)

But I am a native Rhode Islander: I understand that a state losing population and one where my neighbors still feel that New Bedford or Stonington are “day trip” destinations probably doesn’t have the will to make flights to “foreign countries” profitable for any airline.

That being the case, many Rhode Islanders will continue to feel that renting a house at Scarborough Beach for a couple of weeks during the summer, an occasional jaunt to Newport, the Cape, or Block Island, or a bus trip to Boston or New York City for the really adventurous, are more than they need to get away from it all for a while. Those who can will drive or fly to Florida for a winter respite. As long as Southwest and Jet Blue keep their desks open at Green Airport, Rhode Island will feel well-served.

Real travelers, sadly, will still face the extra time, cost, and traffic challenges that lead to Logan or Bradley when they are headed for any place that requires a passport. In the end, that is a small price to pay for those of us blessed with wanderlust.

Mary Ann Sorrentino’s column appears regularly on the First Wednesday in the Globe. Follow her on Twitter at @Thatmaryann or email her at thatmaryann@yahoo.com

Family, Friends, Lovers, and Politicians

Family, Friends, Lovers, and Politicians By Mary Ann Sorrentino Pub. Date: Nov. 6, 2019

Real friends are precious: people we grew up with, those there for us when we need them, and family members we cherish. That’s why, when today’s “Great Divide--” red vs. blue, white vs. people of color, Wall Street vs. Main Street, Christians vs. non-Christian – spills into our conversations, something destructive seems to be happening.

It’s tough to defend differing political views; it’s tougher still to lose the comfort and joy of those who love us (and whom we love) over whether Hunter is more corrupt than Ivanka.

If America is being made “Great Again” Americans, once admired and envied around the globe, seem to have forgotten how to “crown her good with brotherhood...”

How many of you have felt a growing discomfort when speaking with people you have known and cherished for decades? Some act as if your views are ridiculous and even destructive. Conversely, are you ashamed to admit your outrage about the opposing views of intimates?

A child of immigrants, I sympathize with those risking all to come to America to escape lives of fear, danger, and starvation in their native lands, as many of our forebears did. I am unwilling to trade a strong investment portfolio for my abandonment of the belief that America’s greatness stems as much from her tolerance and charity as from her wealth and might.

Conversations I looked forward to now often disintegrate into arguments punctuated by horrified or condescending looks, sighs of disbelief, and even put-downs from both sides of the argument of the moment.

I sometimes miss the days when people kept their political and religious views out of social conversations. Today, if we don’t vehemently defend our beliefs we feel strongly that we are conceding ground. Too many conversations begin with both sides crouched in the “…mark, set, go!” position waiting for the gunshot to start a race to nowhere.

The “…Let’s not talk about that…” diversion eventually brings so many elephants into the room that neither side can ignore the noise they make or the stench they throw off. Eventually and predictably, the first salvo is heard and the battle begins—again. In the end, what was supposed to be (and once was) discourse between people who care about each other ends in hurried departures, insincere

pledges to “get together soon” and a sense of loss as each side watches the other walk into the sunset.

Couples talk about the bitterness of today’s political stalemate taking its toll on once-loving relationships. Parents avoid talks with adult children—and vice-versa. After work drinks—once collegial -- become a test of restraint that often fails: once-sedate book clubs move to combat.

Something has broken down in America and everyone seems to notice but Americans. When Washington’s actions decimate the friendly way citizens who have cared about each other for years or generations interact, we need to take a good look at what is happening. As many of our world neighbors would tell us, politics affect institutions in an obvious way, but when too many profiteers on both sides of the aisle worry more about themselves than about those they have sworn to protect and defend, the battles waged in the halls of government can turn the kitchen, the clubhouse, the dining room, and even the pews into bunkers. It is one thing for the stock market, manufacturing, agriculture, and labor groups to experience ups and downs because of national policy, but it is quite another when taxpayers become so polarized that they can no longer tolerate good friends and relatives with different political views.

We can’t allow great friendships to turn to disrespect and even hatred without using thoughtful discourse to salvage camaraderie before it’s too late. This is not an easy assignment. I don’t expect David Duke to become Barack Obama’s pal, but I am trying to approach my friends on the far-Right with enough logic wrapped in sincerity and humor to allow the decades of caring that bind us to outweigh the few years of political estrangement threatening us. I also know, sadly, that some relationships will not survive this polarization.

In the end, we shall always need the respect and genuine caring we get from those closest to us—and they will always expect that from us in return. Hopefully, Americans will learn what older cultures learned throughout history: politics are fleeting; the healing and nurturing of close friendships and familial bonds—in the end—spare us through life from the isolation that unbridled political opposition can create. Shrill arguments or, worse, angry silences, fracture friendships.

The task before us, then, is to remember who really cares and who—in the end—is important in our lives. (Hint: Friends and family probably outrank politicians every time.) Meanwhile, in rough patches such as we are experiencing, it’s wise to hone our skills for more respectful discourse and set an example of tolerance even when faced with loud and inflexible opposition.

Whichever 24-hour cable channel we watch for all the answers, true friends and loving family will always make us feel better than tomorrow’s Tweets or breaking headlines.

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Mary Ann Sorrentino’s column appears regularly on the First Wednesday in the Globe. Follow her on Twitter at @Thatmaryann or email thatmaryann@yahoo.com.

First Do No Harm

OPINION | MARY ANN SORRENTINO In the Boston Globe

First, do no harm

By Mary Ann Sorrentino,Updated October 2, 2019, 5:00 a.m.

Like many health care workers and administrators from these parts, I cut my teeth as a health professional in Boston at the Peter Bent Brigham Hospital, on the same site where today’s revered Brigham and Women’s continues a great medical tradition.

When I returned to my native Rhode Island, I had an opportunity to grow in that state’s first Health Maintenance Organization, proud to be part of a brave and committed team out to prove that good health depends on health maintenance, early detection, and routine preventive care. It wasn’t an easy message to deliver then, but with persistence, HMOs earned respect and standing.

During all those years and until my retirement from the health field, I had hired, fired, and worked with physicians — from cocky Harvard and Brown interns who sometimes had to be shown their boundaries to overly eager surgical residents embracing the “surgeon’s personality” (code for a surgeon’s assumed right to yell at attending staff, throw instruments across the operating room, and generally behave immaturely).

As a health administrator and as a patient who has been poked, prodded, and stitched up by the best and worst of them, I think I know a great doctor when I see one. That is why the recent death of a respected surgeon I was privileged to know as my doctor and as the genius whose amazing surgical skills gave my husband a new life has underscored my recognition of what a precious and rare gift a truly exceptional healer is.

Rejecting the typically stern surgical bearing that often sets surgeons apart, even from their medical peers, Dr. M was usually smiling, always thoughtful, and uniquely modest. He was always there for those in his care. He soon became the rudder keeping patients and those closest to them safely on course as he eventually guided them into a safe harbor.

As far from the stereotypical “surgical personality” model as one could get, he was a quiet man who looked you in the eye when he spoke and never had to raise his voice to make his point. I often described him as “elegant,” not only for the exquisitely tasteful wardrobe he wore with impeccable style, but also for the seamless way he turned a grave diagnosis into a brilliant treatment plan, then to a surgical miracle, and finally to a recovery full of reassurance and caring from the very surgeon who made that all possible. You could be discharged from the hospital by him, but you never, ever, stopped being one of his patients, someone he cared about.

He was determined to leave us all quietly, with privacy and without the commotion his exit from this life would surely have caused among colleagues, patients, students, and admirers had they all been aware of his year-plus battle against cancer. Eventually he wrapped himself in the comfort of the familial intimacy he cherished and deserved and — before we could even dare to imagine a world without him — he quietly moved on.

I saw grown men cry on hearing the news — even some of those instrument-throwing “surgical personality” types. Most of us wept openly and later recalled favorite moments in this man’s orbit, certain we might never know anyone who would reach his standard again. Many of us cursed the injustice of all that genius, grace, and magic packed into such a brief life, cut short, mercilessly, at 57 years.

My hope is that his quiet, capable, and determined ways will be imitated by other doctors. May that calm, sure, and steady manner become contagious. Many he treated or worked with have already come to emulate the resounding example of his quiet, steady, and healing style. He knew exactly what his final message would be.

He was giving us lessons in healing wrapped in elegance, dignity, and compassion right to the end. If there is a heaven, he is surely in a place where angels ask him how to fly more gracefully. (And he will make that happen!)

His eventual greatness sprang from the pledge that he had made and kept since day one, “First, do no harm.” Privately and professionally, he kept that promise, and therein lives his legacy.

The rest is up to us.

Mary Ann Sorrentino’s column appears regularly on the First Wednesday in the Globe. Follow her on Twitter at @Thatmaryann or email thatmaryann@yahoo.com.