Living History by Unknown (best non fiction books of all time .txt) 📕

opinions directly to the public by writing them myself. In late July, I began a syndicated weekly newspaper column called “Talking It Over,” following once again the footsteps of Eleanor Roosevelt, who had written a column six days a week called “My Day” from 1935 to 1962. My first columns covered topics ranging from the seventy-fifth anniversary of women’s suffrage to a celebration of family vacations. The exercise of putting my ideas on paper gave me a clearer sense of how to recast my role as an advocate within the Administration as I began to focus on discrete domestic projects that were more achievable than massive undertakings such as health care reform. On my agenda now were children’s health issues, breast cancer prevention, and protecting funding for public television, legal services and the arts.

I learned more about the prevalence and impact of breast cancer, as well as obstacles to its prevention and treatment, from talking with doctors, patients and survivors at “listening sessions” I convened in senior centers and hospitals across the country. Starting at a meeting of the National Breast Cancer Coalition (NBCC) in Williamsburg, Virginia, during the 1992 campaign, I was struck by the resilience of breast cancer survivors.

When the bus carrying attendees broke down en route, the women simply got off and hitchhiked the rest of the way. I worked with the NBCC, founded by a determined survivor and advocate, Fran Visco, over the course of the Administration to obtain more funding for research and expanded treatment for uninsured women.

I met frequently with breast cancer survivors at the White House. Through the experiences of my motherin-law and so many others, I understood the fear and uncertainty that accompanies a cancer diagnosis. One of the most faithful volunteers in my office at the White House, Miriam Leverage, battled breast cancer for six years before succumbing to the disease in 1996 after a valiant fight. A retired schoolteacher and proud grandmother, Miriam underwent two surgeries, radiation treatment and five rounds of chemotherapy.

She always reminded me and my staffers to perform self-examinations and get regular mammograms, something I had done every year since turning forty.

I launched the Medicare Mammography Awareness Campaign in conjunction with Mother’s Day in 1995 to raise awareness about the importance of early detection and to make sure that women eligible under Medicare took advantage of mammography. Only 40 percent of older women, whose mammograms were paid for by Medicare, actually had the screening. Because one in eight women in our country is expected to develop breast cancer, early detection is essential. I worked with corporate sponsors, public relations professionals and representatives of consumer groups on the “Mama-gram” campaign to encourage older women to get mammograms and to educate them about the benefits of early detection. The national campaign included inserts in Mother’s Day greeting and floral cards, reminding mothers of the importance of regular mammograms, along with promotional store displays, printed grocery bags and public service announcements.

Over the next few years, I worked to expand Medicare coverage so that more women would be eligible for annual mammograms without having to make a copayment, and I was pleased when Bill announced new regulations to ensure the safety and quality of mammography. These efforts dovetailed with my work to support increased funding for research on breast cancer detection, prevention, treatment and potential cures, and to launch a breast cancer stamp with the U.S. Postal Service that channels a portion of its revenues to research.

One of the most vexing and heartbreaking issues that came to my attention as I crisscrossed the U.S. was Gulf War syndrome. Thousands of men and women who served our nation in the military in the Persian Gulf during Operation Desert Storm in 1991 suffered from a variety of ailments, among them chronic fatigue, gastrointestinal disorders, rashes and respiratory problems. I received haunting letters from vets who had risked their lives on behalf of our country abroad and couldn’t keep jobs or support their families at home because of these illnesses. One veteran I met, Colonel Herbert Smith, had led a healthy and productive life before his tour in the Persian Gulf. While serving in Operation Desert Storm, he developed swollen lymph nodes, rashes, fatigue, joint pain and fever. After six months in the Gulf, he was forced to return home. Yet doctors were unable to diagnose his illness or offer treatment.

It was heartbreaking to hear Col. Smith describe the agony of living day after day, year after year, not knowing why he had become sick. Even worse for Col. Smith was the skepticism about his illness he en countered from some military doctors. One military doctor accused him of “bleeding” himself to fake anemia in order to receive disability benefits. Col. Smith developed nerve damage to his brain and vestibular system, leaving him severely disabled and unable to continue working. And yet his pleas and those of other veterans were not being heard.

I called for a comprehensive study of Gulf War syndrome, including efforts to determine whether our troops could have been exposed to chemical or biological agents or been affected by oil fires, radiation or other toxins. I met with officials from the Departments of Defense, Veterans Affairs and Health and Human Services to determine what the government should do both to respond to the needs of these veterans and to prevent similar problems in the future. I recommended a Presidential Advisory Committee that Bill appointed to review the issue. He later signed legislation to cover disability benefits for eligible Gulf War veterans with undiagnosed illnesses and directed the Veterans Administration to set up better systems to screen and monitor our troops in the future.

Domestic issues like these dominated my White House agenda during the spring of 1995. Then, the attention of the entire nation turned to an unfathomable tragedy.

For me, April 19 began as an ordinary day of meetings and interviews. Around 11

A.M., I was sitting in my favorite chair in the West Sitting Hall, going over scheduling requests with Maggie and