Strolls Down Memory Lane

It seems as if the Hoover Dam broke and unleashed upon Facebook a whole slew of "You Know You're From (Wherever) When......" We don't have that one but we do have "Do You Remember At Hometown High...." and posting tons of high school memories. I'm always of two minds about high school days. I enjoy when I get to meet up with classmates or share some memories..... but at the time, high school wasn't the most pleasant of experiences.

High school was one of those times of my life that I'd never want to repeat. Living through it once was more than enough. College? Completely different story. And yet I enjoy seeing my high school classmates out and about. We did a meet-and-eat earlier this summer, and it was a blast. But back in the day, it was a different story.

I couldn't wait to get out of my hometown. Once I was gone, I tried to distance myself from the people, places, etc. of those first 17 years. Angry? Perhaps. Coming home was never even a consideration. But so it happened. I still kept a distance. I needed that wall, that angry-young-girl facade. I suppose you could say I felt so ashamed of coming home on my shield instead of carrying it. Weird wounded pride.

It has only been in the last few years, as I have become more at ease with myself and my place in the world, have I begun to attempt to make peace with having grown up here, and my HS days. We were all silly and immature, and as I see it, we've all gotten so much better. The distancing came with a price: I'll never be as close to my hometown friends as I am to the ones from college and my adult life. They are the people who really watched me come into my own, and who have been there for me in my very darkest hours. But there's also a joy in knowing people who will not look at you funny when you mention certain people, places, events. If you're from here and from a certain era, "The Fooder" will bring instant recall, as would Mrs. O'Dell or "the 100 Building." It's a good thing.

Sometimes, remembering isn't such a bad thing after all......

Amy Winehouse, Norway, and a messed-up world

So I'm sitting here at lunch and I see a Facebook post about Amy Winehouse being found dead. I shouldn't be surprised but at the same time, yes, I was. You hope that people get their stuff together and have happy lives, but some people just can't. I cannot imagine what kind of pain she must have felt in life that it was bad enough for her to digest the level of substances she did, but also as often. I spent a few minutes pondering why some people have tremendous amounts of pain in their lives -- from abusive homes to childhood traumas or horrid disabilities, anything that is out of the norm -- and have little trouble making their way through life, and usually with the best attitude ever. And other people can have such difficulty coping with things that most of us would either shrug off or eventually just get over...... Some people are like the Black Knight: chop off their arms and to them, just a flesh wound. Others, you can show them a safety pin at 30 paces, and they are stabbed in the heart for life. There's sensitive and then there's "really, child, toughen up!" just as much as there is "you went through all that, and you're okay? really? Wow."

Then I had another friend post an opinion about the horrific tragedy in Norway, for which there just are no words. Her thought was on what sort of odd combination of environment and genetics could possibly produce a killer like that..... and there are no answers. Here's someone who felt such deep emotion about something that this was his answer to his personal pain..... it is a massively (blank)ed-up answer to 99.99999% of the rest of the world, but his mind would not see that.

Violence.... one full of rage and took it out on 100 people who had no connection to his pain at all. One full of self-hatred and took it out on herself. Both deprived the world of something. Who knows if Amy Winehouse's talent could have blossomed and given us all lots more to enjoy in her music? Who knows what those 100 people in Norway (especially the teens) could have gone on to do and be? We mourn most what might have been...... in both instances.

And sadly, this week, a part of my childhood has gone away too..... No new program for NASA. The space shuttle program has, after 30 years, ended, with nothing substantial to replace it. NASA was something cool from my childhood -- being an astronaut? YEAH! Even as a girl, it would have been super cool! I remember watching launches on the evening news, and we all held our breaths when the very first shuttle went up and came home. I can tell you exactly where I was when I heard the news of the Challenger explosion .... and my teacher's reaction has never been forgotten in 25 years. (Wow. 25 years? Seriously? Oh geeez......) In fact, we used the whole Challenger explosion and investigation as a case study in my Public Administration class. And now it seems that we have other fish to fry. Too many different things wanting a piece of the pie, and oh well, this quaint relic from another time, well..... sorry NASA. You're expendable.

Really? How many of the technological advances that we enjoy today had a genesis or a further development from the space program? What if all that had never happened? Damn those Commies for capitulating .... they took our competitive drive away. (/sarcasm) The one remnant of the Space Race Age that I'll hang onto are some great pieces of ambient music..... or music steeped in remembrance of such a time (e.g., Donald Fagen's glorious The Nightfly, and especially "New Frontier").

****

Guess today, I haz a sad. All over.

Fill in the Blank Friday (7/22/11)

1. One of my happiest moments ever was This one will sound really strange, but the day I quit a job that just didn't work for me anymore. Things had happened that made my work go from good-crazy to horrific-insane. What I realized I was grown-up and it was time I took my life back into my hands. Made my decision to quit and slept like the dead that night.

2. Summer is wedding season and weddings are usually, very beautiful events.....

3. This summer (to quote Robin Williams as Adrian Cronauer channeling Walter Cronkite) has been hotter than a snake's ass in a wagon rut.

4. My summer food of choice has been blueberries and grape tomatoes. Not together mind you, but yeah.....

5. My summer uniform has been more or less my regular clothes...... slacks of some sort, short-sleeved top of some sort, and shoes. It's hotter than Hades outside, freezing cold inside.... so trying to hit the middle.

6. If I could spend the entire summer in one location I would choose wherever the sand is white, the water is blue, and the men don't speak much English

7. My summer anthem is the entire "Bat out of Hell" album...... it just reminds me of some really good summers in my life.

Something fun for me!

I did something last week that I haven't done in forever: audition for a theatre production.

Good news: I AM IN THE CAST!

Better news: It's Godspell!!!

I love this musical. Last year, I got the bright idea to finally download the soundtrack from iTunes and am SO very glad I did. Not sure why but I decided I had to have it and by golly... I had joked with a friend from choir who is involved with local theatre that they needed to do this. So by this spring, it became, "Hey guess what? We are trying to get the rights for Godspell. You will HAVE to audition."

They did. And I did. I wasn't sure I could. Right now, I'm on a campaign to be gentler with myself. But by the same token, I'm badly in need of some stress relief. So between treating myself to a monthly massage and trying to get better quality sleep, I also figured it couldn't hurt to do something fun for myself, something I hadn't done since God was a boy.

By the time I get on stage, it will be just short of 21 and a half years since my last time in a production. It will not be 21 years to my next one (at least I hope!). Even in just a few days, I am finding myself really enjoying it. Maybe one audition each year? We'll see........

And while I am not doing "Turn Back Oh Man" (my very favorite tune from the show), I am doing "By Your Side" (my 2nd favorite song). And a small solo in "Light of the World" ... you know, there's not a bad song in the bunch. :)

See ya in lights!

Fill in the Blank Friday

Shamelessly stolen from Amanda

1. I am a (morning, evening, middle of the day person)

I am a evening person. Not a night owl, mind you (those days are LONG gone), but I do really good between 5-10 PM.

2. My favorite Pandora stations are

my own "blender" and jazz classics.

3. 3 of my "must-have" songs for a road trip playlist are

See, I can't answer this: it will all depend on what mood I'm in, where I'm going, who's going with me or am I going solo, etc. If i'm solo, it's all good and up for grabs. I will say this: it's not particular songs, it's which CD's, in which order, etc.

4. My favorite pattern is

I don't have a favorite but I can tell you stripes in any direction other than vertical do not work for me. It's just me.

5. My favorite perfume is

Anais Anais. Love it and have since 1986.

6. Rules are

Yep. They are. No, really, I love structure to a point, but there are times some rules just stink. And are worth breaking. And worth the punishment. Others, not so much.

7. My most overused phrase or punctuation is

Exclamation points- because I'm just really generally excited about everything! And the (...) because I'm lazy with grammar and it's easier to write in the way I think and hope people just follow along. (Dang, Amanda, me too -- so I stole your answer too!!!)

Your turn......

Love at First Listen

It was 21 years ago that I first discovered bossa nova -- okay, bossa nova music other than "The Girl from Ipanema" -- thanks to my exchange brother. Marcio was from Sao Paulo, Brazil. To help him have a little bit of home while he was in the States, his father had made a not-quite-mix-tape for him. One side was all bossa nova (mostly Gilberto/Jobim) and the other was samba. Samba was great, but bossa nova.... ah! I fell in love. (Of course, every time I hear "Ipanema" I can't help but see John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd in my mind's eyes....)

I actually fell in love when he left the tape behind. Somehow the tape ended up in my portable case. I think my parents thought it was mine and when I returned to school, in it went. One night, as I was nursing a hellacious migraine, I needed just some soft music as I attempted to fall asleep. I'm odd in that sound doesn't bother my headache, as long as it's low and not annoying; think "quiet storm" type of music. Light - oh God, the darker the better during a headache. Anyway, I hit play on my huge ol' boombox and out poured beautiful rhythms of the Brazilian coast. Ipanema made its way to Charleston that night and it's been a happy marriage ever since.

I can't describe why I like it. The music has an energy that I can't describe. It is not the frenetic energy of the samba or other Latin rhythms. It is more like a mambo than anything else but still, not quite. There's an easy flow, a soothing sweetness, an undercurrent of sensuality, and something about hearing music sung in Brazilian Portugese.... mm.

For about 15 of the last 21 years, I got my fix from that little tape until..... yes, you know it's coming.... yes, my Ford Escort's tape deck ate it. I mean, had it for lunch with a second helping and extra dessert. I cried. Yes. I did. Big ol' salty tears. I have searched in vain since then for the exact album that Mr. Guilherme lovingly prepared for his son, but to no avail. The closest I have found is Herbie Mann's album with Getz and Gilberto and Jobim, but even that isn't exact. And no luck at all in finding the samba music; I never knew the artist.

So the other day I had stopped in Starbucks -- which is an event that happens along the same cycle as the Ice Age. I'm just not a Starbucks person, at least not on a regular basis. But I had a gift card left over from my birthday, and I'd used it ... maybe 3 times since October? And mostly for the regular coffee and gum. Yeah, big spender. Anyway, I saw it and HAD to have it. I mean, HAD to: a compilation CD, called "In A Bossa Nova Mood." Quicker than a jackrabbit on a first date, I grabbed it, and ended up paying a whopping 16c over what my card had left. Yeah bay-bay!!!!

Had it in my CD player(s) for three days straight now. Wishing I were in Ipanema ........ Completely wonderful!

My America

My earliest known ancestor came to these shores in the 1600s, settling in Virginia. I had other ancestors who came -- some to Pennsylvania, some to South Carolina, some to Maryland, most to Virginia. And south they went, along the Wagon Trail toward Texas. They stopped. Some of theirs went on, and so I have distant relatives who share some of those family names all over the country, if not the world. But mine stopped here. I can drive to any number of cemeteries within a 75-mile radius and find ancestors and other relatives (their siblings or descendants).

My last immigrant ancestor -- at least of which I am aware -- probably arrived sometime around 1820 or so from Ireland. Her grave, within 5 miles of my home, simply states born in Ireland in 1801 and died here in 1870 (if I recall). That's it. Nothing else. I have no idea where in Ireland she came from, how she came, why she came, anything. I often wonder if she bought a ticket, if she stowed away, if she came through New York, Baltimore, Charleston, Philly, or where?

At least as far as I have found, they all came from elsewhere. I keep hoping for some Native ancestry to mix in with the very Anglo-Scots-Irish mix that spawned my particular family -- not even a smidgen of German mixed in, surprising given the number of German immigrants to our area. They all came for a reason. Whether for land, marriage, a better opportunity or just freedom, they all came to the Eastern shores of the US.

And my life is forever better because of that choice.

Tribute to my dad

No bones about it: I am a Daddy's girl. Now, I'm not the girl who thinks my dad can do zero wrong. But I love him to death and admire him more than I can ever say.

The other morning, I was listening to a local sports-talk show and the host was asking his listeners to call in and tell how their dad played a role in their love of sports. If I'd had the time, I would so have been on the line......

Picture this: it's the early 1970s. My dad is in his late 20s, but already on the hamster wheel of life. He's working a full-time job and going to community college full-time too. He has a wife, daughter, and disabled mother-in-law to support, and going to college is going to at least give him a shot to do a little more. Sundays are truly a day of rest for him, so Saturday is the only opportunity he has to do all those things that don't get done during the week: lawn mowing, car repair, home improvements, you name it.......

He comes in at lunch from whatever chore is being done for a quick bite and just a little rest in front of the TV. And there's his little girl, sitting right next to him. She's a little different from other kids - shorter, chubbier, loves reading more than anything else, but she's got on NBC's Game of the Week with Joe Garagiola and Tony Kubek. And hey - the Reds are playing! So he takes a few extra minutes to watch an inning or two with her, explain a few of the basic rules, etc. And come fall, instead of Saturdays, he'll do it on Sundays with the NFL -- watch the game, explain some of the basic rules, because doggone it, those Steelers are great!

That, dear friends, is how I became a huge sports fan. Couldn't play them to save my life because of the chubbies and the klutzies, but I love watching the game. And to this day, I still watch NFL, MLB, college baseball, college football.... heck, I'll watch a Little League team from Taiwan play (just like the 70s, huh?). All because my dad took a few minutes each weekend to sit with me and show me how it worked. Yes, he had a million things to do. He could have easily said, "I don't have time for that." But he didn't.

My dad showed me the value of hard work, stressed to me the importance of a good education. Reading bored/bores him to tears (and sleep) but he always encouraged me to read if I truly enjoyed it. Math was his strong suit -- the man didn't graduate high school, but he has an associate's degree and could do algebra and trig in his sleep at one point. In 8th grade, when I was struggling with some algebraic concepts, he got out his old college math books, even his GED prep books and showed me a different way of looking at the same equation. He's in his late 60s and still working .....

I am very much like him. I work too hard, play too hard, we both play catcher when asked, we've both had concussions that still make us go "whoa" on rare occasions. We have our differences: he's older and more conservative, I'm younger and still believe in the ideals of my youth, even if they've been tempered by time and practicality. And there are a few other things on which we will not be seeing eye-to-eye.

But I have the world's best daddy. Sorry to everyone else who thinks their dad has that title, but no. Mine. Mine, mine, mine! I only halfway joke that I am still single in my 40s because I have not found the man who treats me anywhere nearly as well as my daddy does.

Mechanic, plumber, builder, sounding board, listening ear, reality check ..... Daddy.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy!!!!

There IS a difference!

I had an "oh my (clutch my pearls)" moment in the grocery store this afternoon.

Now, I do not presume to be Southern royalty or anything of the sort. I am a small-town girl, raised by hard-working people from hard-working families. I do not think for one second that I will be thought of any differently. For years, I was not comfortable enough in my own skin to really appreciate where I came from, but now I appreciate it. And while we were not materially rich or had much influence, we did have manners and we were raised right....

Truvy: "Well, I haven't left the house without Lycra on these thighs since I was 14!"
Clairee: "*You* were brought up right!"

So, I was in our local grocery store today and turned onto the breakfast foods aisle when I heard a conversation between a girl, maybe 25 at the oldest, and her "mommer" ..... "Yeah, hang on... (loud yell: "BRIAN, get back here, I ain't done with that!") ... well, he's taken the frickin' buggy an' I got all this (effin') shopping to do and... (loud yell: "I said, bring that g---d----- buggy back, y'all!) and I ain't got time to put up with this shit."

I clutched the pearls. And immediately made my way to the organic cereal (which is where I was heading anyway)..... I felt the need to distance myself from such shenanigans as much as possible, and since Miss Whiskey Tango 2011 isn't the granola kind......

Now, to be perfectly forthright, yes, I fuss with my family at times. But I do it between clenched teeth, in a very low tone, and certainly not in a display so public! And I also guarantee you that had I said such phraseology on the phone in a public place to my mother, she would have materialized through the phone, and given me the beating I deserved.

Several years ago, there was a great little book written by Dr. David Cannon named Hey Bubba: A Metaphysical Guide to the Good Ol' Boy. And in it, he notes that there is a vast difference between Good Ol' Boys and Rednecks, basically lumping Rednecks as WT.

Yes, folks, there really is a difference.

Good Ol' Boys (and Girls) have good hearts, mean no harm, would give you the shirt off their backs if you needed it, love their moms, their dads, their dogs, and most people. They are truly salt of the earth, no matter if their pockets are empty or they're sitting on a gold mine. Whenever you hear the phrase "good people" .... well, a Gobbie might just come to mind. Gobbies aren't the type to always put everyone ahead of themselves, but they are aware that others' rights begin where theirs end, and are respectful of that.

Rednecks/WT's..... no. There's a difference. I'd even say that Gretchen Wilson's "Redneck Woman" may not be a redneck as much as a Good Ol' Girl. Rednecks, to use Dr. Cannon's phrase, are "reptilian." No one matters but them and theirs... but if you get in their way, then you're dead meat too.

And then there are idiots. But that's another post for another time.

Thinking about Memorial Day

Tomorrow is Memorial Day, and I think a little reminder is in order. Memorial Day is a time to remember all those servicemembers who died while on duty. Veteran's Day is the time to honor all the rest, current, retired, etc.

Last year, I did a Facebook app where you could list your servicemember who died on duty, or have it randomly assign your status for the day to a serviceperson killed in action. Please allow me to retell this story, from my "Gr-attitude Adjustment" blog last year:

"... I allowed it to randomly find someone....... and it was just as poignant to me: SP4 Wilbert Eugene Jones, killed in the Vietnam War. When I saw that, I knew I had to find out more about him.

I Googled him and found a SP4 Wilbert E. Jones, and information about him at VirtualWall.org (PS: that's another thing on my bucket list: visiting the Wall; Jamie O'Hara's song "50,000 Names" still brings me to tears). He was from Eden, North Carolina, only about 4-5 hours from here. He was an infantryman, died at age 21, in Quang Tri province on 30 July 1969.

Why did Spec-4 Jones and his story affect me? My Daddy was an SP4, in Europe, during the Vietnam War era. It was only because of my grandfather's stroke and Dad being the last unmarried child that he was able to come home safe and sound before he saw combat. Daddy worked with rockets & missiles, so I have always believed that he would have been sent to 'Nam at some point. I am here today because of that odd stroke of fate (no pun intended).

This made me wonder if perhaps Daddy served with this guy at some point or knew him from boot camp or any of the other places he went. It just made me really stop and think about this fella -- who he might have been, where he was from........ So I printed the information for my daddy, telling him what I'd done and what I'd found. Daddy deciphered all the arcane Army jargon and acronyms. He didn't serve with him, but there was an immediate level of kinship, brothers in arms quite literally. Specialist Jones' tour began in December 1968, the same time my parents were celebrating their first Christmas together. He died 3 months before my own birth. His birthday? March 26..... my daddy's is March 6 (although 4 years earlier).

I wondered about the friends and family that Specialist Jones left behind there in Eden and at the various bases where he was stationed. I wonder how many of them are still here today to think of him, to be grateful for his ultimate sacrifice, to celebrate the person he was and to mourn what might have been. I wish I knew more of his story but I hope that he is never forgotten.

If that app is available again this year, you betcher rear end I'm going to donate my status tomorrow to remember a fallen soldier. We do not thank them enough.

I don't care if you have (R), (D), (I), or (?) behind your name. I don't care what your viewpoints are on the President -- see rant below -- or whether or not you support the current military campaigns... NONE OF IT MATTERS. Thank a serviceperson for your freedoms, including freedom of speech.

And now I will exercise my right to free speech............ {rant} for every "pundit" out there who does their damnedest to run the President down for every decision or every nuance of a word or speech, drink a big ol' glass of STFU Juice and listen: Instead of bitching about everything he does, why don't you take five minutes, drop to your knees and pray for the man? Pray in whatever way suits you, but pray for wisdom and sound judgement, and thank God you don't have that responsibility, because you'd be just as overwhelmed. {/rant}

Okay. I feel better now.

To everyone who gave their lives, thank you. To the families left behind to mourn, grieve, advocate for peace or for changes for our military to make them safer, thank you. And may God bless the United States of America.

Farmer Nettie is alive....

In my whole life, I have never had much interest in dirt, seeds, plants, flowers, anything connected to the art and science of gardening. My dad has always done some type of gardening -- both food and floral, though mostly shrubbery. My parents aren't the type to grow prize-winning roses or dahlias or irises or any of the sort, but they do have nice azaleas and tulips. Tulips have a certain appeal to me: plant the bulb, water occasionally, there ya go.

But lately, I have been totally overcome by gardening, veggies and herbs, and even (gasp) a couple of berry plants. It all started so innocently with a mini-tomato greenhouse, followed by grow-your-own strawberries and GYO sweet peppers (all from seed). And then........

It's a long story but here's what I have right now:
* Tomatoes (from seed)
* Eggplant (from seed)
* 3 types of bell pepper: one orange (from plant), one "rainbow" (from seeds), one sweet pepper (from seeds).... okay, really, one and a half. One was a large pot, one a teensy pot
* Broccoli (from seed)
* Mesclun (mixed salad greens; from seed)
* Small Pumpkins (from seed)
* Zucchini (from plant)
* Cucumber (from plant)
* Strawberry (plant; the seeds still have not germinated and after nearly 4 weeks, I doubt they will)
* Blueberry (purchased a bush)

Herbs..... I have
* Rosemary (trying from seed and one plant - seeds are not doing too well; plant is good!)
* Lavender (from seed and one plant -- I swear, the seeds only started going when I brought the live plant home)
* Sage (plant)
* German chamomile (plant)
* Oregano (plant)
* Flat-leaf parsley (plant)
* Tarragon (plant)

I even bought a 48"x48" (16 sq feet) gardening area. My dad and I are going to finish it up this coming weekend, as I'll need to buy some more garden/potting soil. The veggies are going to go in that (except for the pumpkins right now). I have to work on my plan for that this week.

I cannot wait to eat the fruits, veggies, and herbs of my labors!

Just one thing to say

Surrexit Christus, alleluia!
Cantate Domino, alleluia!

Wishing you all a happy Easter!

Gift of Life

Life is a precious, beautiful gift. From that first inhalation at birth to that last great exhaling at our passing, and all the breaths and breathtaking moments in between, life is beautiful and wonderful.

And right now, I know of someone who is eagerly awaiting a donation that will allow him to breathe once again. His wife is on a messageboard that I am part of, and they are at Duke. Last night, they thought they had a set of lungs for him (he needs a double-lung transplant), but unfortunately his blood subtype (subtype? Really?) was not a match. So the waiting game continues for them.

April is National Donate Life Month. If you've thought about organ donation, have questions or concerns, or simply know that you want to but need to fill out the forms -- visit today!!! You can link to the Organ Donor registry in your state, and go from there.

But it's more than just filling out the form -- be sure to TELL! Tell friends and family that you're an organ donor. Put it on your driver's license in case no one can speak for you. Put it in your funeral arrangements and your will. TELL PEOPLE! It does no good if you fill out the forms but no one is aware that you wish to pass on the gift of life to someone.

I signed up to be an organ donor as soon as I could once I was of legal age (I think I was maybe 20 and they asked when I renewed my license). I figure if I'm in the ground, the perfectly good organs are doing me no good, when they could be helping someone else. Frankly, my theology is that God would rather me enter in without my physical heart or kidneys or whatever else if they've gone to help others -- he'll supply every need anyway!

But you also can be a live donor for kidneys or bone marrow -- so consider donations for those as well!!! You can always be a blood donor every 56 days. There are a million ways to share that wonderful gift of life with others.

Do your part today.

Why don't we.....

Okay, let's get the musical responses out of the way first: "Side by side on my piano keyboard, Oh Lord...." or ".... do it in the road?"

Hee hee hee.

Last week, I had the opportunity to tell a loved one just how much they meant to me. Won't go into all the details, but I wrote a letter to this person and told them some of the good things about them, how proud I am of them, how they have influenced me, etc. etc. I also got some of this person's other friends and loved ones to do the same. One of the mutual friends and I agreed that this is something we need to do more often .... without any real occasion or reason why, other than simply to do it.

So.... why don't we?

Why don't we start this revolution? Why don't we pick up the phone, or sit down in person, or even if we have to, write that letter -- which is probably best, because the person can read it over and over and over whenever they need a boost.

Why don't we make the time to tell people what they mean to us?

Why don't we start today?

Quick update

I met with Dr. Y on Monday and in late April, he'll be removing the cyst. It's ... well, he gave the scientific name of everything, but basically, it's a blocked oil gland. Hooray! I mean, hooray that it's not anything worse.....

AHHHH... and breathe again.

In praise of good doctors

For those who are regular readers of this, or of Weighty Matters, you know the frustration that I have experienced in the last 18 months or so with the medical profession -- both for myself and my mother (especially). But today, I have mostly very high praise for the doctors who are worthy of their calling, and who make medical visits and checkups almost a joy.

Yesterday was my dental checkup. Doc G is phenomenal. I don't get freaked out by dental visits, because Lord knows, I have spent quite a number of times with my rear in a dental chair. Dr W was our pediatric dentist, then Dr B when we got too old for Dr W, and when Dr. B closed his practice, we started with Doc G. Just a gem! The nice thing is that Doc G is one of those dentists that puts you at ease. He has a fantastic staff who is just as caring and supportive as he is. I have to go back for an overlay due to a chipping of a tooth that's already mostly filling material anyway. Oh boy.... but honestly, that doesn't even bother me.

Dr. E is another great doctor, and I've been a patient for about 14 years now (wow - really? Ha....) He is a kind, gentle person to whom I owe an awful lot. He is the doctor who recommended that I use Weight Watchers to lose weight. It was on his scale that I saw a horrible fact unfold before my eyes, and instead of berating me... which he isn't the type to do anyway... he reached out and told me he believed in me and in my abilities to see the process through. I think that was a key factor in me finally deciding a few weeks later that perhaps yes, he was right and I needed that extra help to make it work.

Dr. Y is a fantastic surgeon who was more than incredibly kind to me in performing my cholecystectomy (gallbladder removal)... yeah, I'm gonna use the 10-dollar word because I can! (HAAA) No, really, when I went in through the ER not knowing if I was going to make it through this attack (even though I'd survived my others), he was there to watch over me, to make sure that they had everything in place, and was prepared to do whatever it took. And here's the thing for which I will forever treasure him: he prayed for me and with me before we ever entered the OR. He paused at the door, asked me if I minded, and through tears I said, "Oh, God no! Please! Always!" He later went out, told my parents exactly what had transpired, and prayed with them a prayer of thanksgiving for a successful operation. Now THAT is a doctor who cares.

Just so happens that today, I had my checkup with Dr. E. He listened to my concerns, explained why he was prescribing what he was going to, how it would improve the situation, gave me orders for some work to be done, and listened as I explained about a cyst on my shoulder. Keep in mind, shoulders don't usually come into play with his particular specialty. But he took one look at the cyst, heard how my family physician didn't seem to think it was worth looking further into, and said, "Oh, no, let me call a friend of mine over at GHS, he's Dr. Y...."

My face broke into a huge smile as I said, "He's the doctor who removed my gallbladder! I think the world of him!" I relayed the story about the prayer prior to operating, and he said, "Yes, that would be him, and he is top-notch both professionally and personally. But you know that already."

I see him Monday. Hopefully he'll remove the cyst in the office, we'll be over and done and WHEW! As Dr. E said, "Well, I can assure you that it's definitely not 'cosmetic' so I hope your insurance will do the right thing." Me too.

I have rarely had a doctor's visit that had good tears mixed with laughter, and a level of caring and concern that was this memorable. The last two days have been reminders that there is still nobility in the medical field, if you just look in the right places.

Stolen from Jinny: ABC's of Me

It's been a long time since I posted a meme to my blog, but here goes:

A-Age: 41

B-Bed size: Twin

C-Chore you hate: Any of them that don't involve the kitchen or bath. Seriously, I don't mind cleaning the kitchen or the bathroom but everything else is "eh, who cares?"

D-Dogs: The one, the only, MADDOX THE GREAT!

E-Essential start to your day: Breakfast, including coffee

F-Favorite Color: Blue

G-Gold or Silver: Silver. I have gold stuff but somehow it just doesn't look right for me (IMHO)

H-Height: 5'6"

I-Instruments you play: Piano and poorly

J-Job title: Superrrrrr Genius

K-Kids: None of my own. Two fantastic godchildren

L-Live: from New York, it's Saturday Night!!! (Okay, really: my hometown in Upstate SC. Still live there.)

M-My mom's name: shall not be mentioned here because I share it with her but do not use it. It's not a bad name but it's not me. Never used it, don't intend to, and I get really pissed when I have to sign timesheets as "(First name, middle initial)" as opposed to "(First initial, middle name that I've used and ALWAYS gone by for my entire life)" .... not that I dwell on it.

N-Nickname: Nettie, Caro

O-Overnight hospital stay: Try an 8-night stay, late August 2003 on past Labor Day (I think it was actually Aug 27-Sept 4).

P-Pet Peeve: (I am grinning EVILLY at this one) When plastic containers aren't stacked properly in the cabinet. Like with like. It's not rocket science.

Q-Quote from a movie: "Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue...."

R-Right/Lefty: Right

S-Siblings: I have one younger brother

T-Time you wake up: 5:00 AM six days a week, whenever on Sundays (but rarely past 7:00 AM).

U-Underwear: Yes, thank you.

V-Veggies you dislike: Wow.. I haven't met one I haven't liked. Okay, I'm gonna guess and say turnips since I really haven't eaten them.

W-What makes you run late: What doesn't?!?!?!

X-Xrays you've had: Dental, back, and I think ... no wait, that was ultrasound for the gallbladder.

Y-Yummy food you make: Everything. :-D Okay, really I make a pretty killer turkey meatloaf.

Z-Zoo animals: The monkeys, what else?!?

29 and not so fine...

Today is the 29th anniversary of my grandmother's death. It is a day where I will remember almost every detail to that day. It was a Sunday. We went to church and then took my father out for lunch - his birthday is the 6th. On the way home, my mother wanted to stop by the nursing home where my grandmother lived and visit. My dad said, "You just went yesterday for a visit. Just call when you get home."

(Just a note on that: That moment made me keenly aware that there is a plan and purpose to everything. Normally my father wouldn't have minded stopping by... but had we done so, we would have walked right in on her death itself.)

We got home to find the phone ringing -- the home calling to tell us to get to the hospital post-haste, that my grandmother had had some sort of episode. My brother and I stayed at home while my parents went flying. About a half-hour later, there was a knock on our front door. It was Granny B, my next-door neighbor..... "Children, I have some bad news. Your mama just called...." And I didn't need to hear anything else, even though she continued. I remember crying and crying and crying. I must explain: I was her oldest grandchild, only granddaughter, as my mother is an only child. My grandmother lived with us until I was 7, at which point she self-referred to a nursing home. Oh, my granny was something else, let me tell you.

People streamed in and out all day. People from church, local family, friends and neighbors alike. One I remember out of the entire blur was Mrs. Metz, who made this completely TDF caramel-frosted cake. Tee was another .... she came over to offer her friendship and care, and sometime about 6:00 (I think) I looked at her and said, "Oh yeah, what did you come here for?" (thinking it was flour or sugar or you know.... something on that line). She gave me a strange look and said, "Hunny, your granny died." I looked at her and went, "Oh yeah. Sorry."

I went to school the next day. There wasn't a thing I was needed for at home, and I needed to get my mind off things. I remember telling my 5th period teacher, "By the way, I won't be here tomorrow. My grandmother died yesterday, so...." Turns out her husband's grandmother lived at the same nursing home; she didn't know. That night was the viewing and receiving friends. Neither my brother nor I went. I had a lot of resentment about that for years. I thought my mother didn't want us there so she could soak up all the sympathies. I found out later that my mother didn't even know we weren't there. She had no idea, no memory, that she'd asked Tee's mom if we could stay with them that night until they got home.

Tuesday morning was her funeral, a little graveside service at 11:00. Again, another incident where my mother didn't let my brother and I take part in one thing, and I had great resentment. We didn't get to ride in the family car (from the funeral home), but some stinkin' distant cousin got to (bear in mind, I was 12). Oh, was I furious. Instead, we rode over with her best friend. I remember stomping through the cemetery to get to the tent, to have one of the funeral home people give me this look like "Family Only." Even then, I was a master of snark and said, "I'm the granddaughter," turned on my heel and went under the tent. I was in a mood, to be sure. And again, much later on, I found out that my mom had no idea of the details or the anger I felt about being "left out." She didn't even realize what had happened. Guess things really are a blur when it happens.

We came home to a wonderful spread by the Methodist Church and a houseful of relatives, laughing and joking and yukking it up..... and I wanted to unleash my verbal assaults on every last one of them. I could not wait for them to get out, leave us alone to our grief, and stop this madness. I didn't realize the healing that laughter and good memories could bring. I was young and even then a navel-gazer, and all I wanted was to wallow in the sadness. She was my granny, not theirs. It was me who had shared a bedroom with her when I was a child. We had the matching beds. It didn't matter if she was already asleep when I went to bed, she had the love and patience to tell me bedtime stories -- usually the stories of things that happened in her childhood. It was a flippin' miserable day, and I didn't care how long they'd known her as "Aunt Aurie".... "Aunt Aurie" was not the same as "Granny."

It took me many years to unpack the grief I stuffed away that day. My mother was so lost in her own grief and sorrow, that I felt I didn't have much choice except to stuff it and help her through. I'd deal with mine later..... and I did: six years later, then another six years later, and again this past spring. I shared the story of Granny's passing as part of a talk I did for a retreat.... and even all this time later, it still choked me up so much. I sit here now, big lump in throat, runny nose, misty eyes.

But I should have known this would loom large in my life. I was six years old when I had a horrific nightmare about my grandmother's passing. In the dream, my brother and I were on the couch, my parents in the kitchen, and my grandmother went to the bathroom where she collapsed from a hemorrhage. Our neighbor Ann heard the commotion and came flying up to help. I remember in the dream seeing the ambulance back up to our front porch. I remember seeing my grandmother's blood on her dress. It scared the absolute crap out of me at that very tender age. I woke my dad up screaming.... don't remember if I woke Granny up or not. I'm sure I did. I couldn't tell them my nightmare, other than there was a certain hymn that was part of the dream that I never wanted to hear again. I swear, I'd hear it in church for years, and I truly would suddenly have to go potty. It still scared me. In real life, in 1982, Granny collapsed in the bathroom of the nursing home. The nurse on duty? Anne. My brother and I stood in the kitchen as my parents answered the phone near our couch. Too many parallels and I never put it together until I was in college. When I did put the pieces together, I got totally freaked out. I mean, shaking freaked out.

And to this day, there are times I wish I had my granny here. There are things I'd love to ask her, granddaughter to grandmother, knowing that she would love me and simply love to be with me. Grannies are good for that sort of thing. I'm sad knowing that my mom probably isn't going to be a granny herself, at least not biologically so from me. She has two wonderful children whom she "nannied" for a while and who call her Nana or Nanny..... not the same. My mom lives vicariously as Granny through other people's children. Again, God has a plan and purpose to it, so one day we'll all understand.

Grannies. Nothing like them. And if you can still call yours, do so post-haste, for those of us who can only dream of it.

Being Blanche DuBois

"I have always depended upon the kindness of strangers." -- Blanche DuBois, A Streetcar Named Desire

After the last couple of days, I have come to realize that I could not be Blanche DuBois. Well, that goes for a lot of facets of her story, but especially in being reliant upon the kindness of strangers.

There's a birth order joke about t-shirts for those of us who are not only oldest, but practically "only" because of the gap between siblings. For us, our tee shirt is "Leave me alone, I'll do it myself." Very apropos for me.

I say all that because this week, I was forced to depend upon the kindness of others -- not necessarily strangers, but just others. My car was in the shop for an extended time. Like most Americans, it isn't the flag or the Constitution or any of that which best symbolizes our independence and freedom. Our vehicles are just that, the path to freedom and independence. As long as we have our wheels, the world is ours. No wheels and we are crippled.

Tomorrow, things get back to a routine schedule. And as much as I relish the idea of being a total free spirit, the truth is that I need "flexible restraint" in everything..... and my wheels. I need my wheels! :)

No, I shan't be Blanche DuBois.

Perspective

I have been busier than a one-armed paperhanger lately. And everything that was nicely ordered in my world prior to January 1 has gone BOOM! I could go on and on and do a whole post or two about those things.

But none of that seems important right now. My best friend's husband was taken back for his second surgery in 5 days -- his 4th in less than a year (maybe 5th? I can't remember). It is due to a chronic condition that he's fought since age 12. It's one of those lovely "invisible illnesses." For him, it's something where he's gone years between major episodes -- yet when one does hit, it is a massive disturbance to his life.

I admit, I get more than a little pissed thinking that there's not one but THREE drugs out there for ED... and not saying that it's not an issue, but SRSLY? Is it so damn important for some ol' geezer to get it up for his new 22-year-old Playmate squeeze, that there are this many drugs to help Gramps...... but they can't allocate resources to find cures for diseases that are TRULY disruptive to people's lives: cancer, migraines, gastro diseases, etc.

Don't get me started.

It's perspective. We're sorely lacking in it these days, and I'm as guilty as anyone. But thinking about C & S and their troubles puts me in a different frame of mind about what is really important in life....

Go Away, Grim Reaper!

Yesterday I found out that a coworker had lost a family member. That makes four ... yes, FOUR ... coworkers who have lost a loved one in about as many weeks. A dad, a mom, a brother, a grandparent. And then another coworker remarked that a former coworker had lost her 20-something-year-old son, very unexpectedly.

One of my retreat team sisters lost her son this week after a battle with cancer. My last great-aunt on my father's side passed away this week; her funeral was today, but I couldn't go. And of course, we have all been made painfully aware of the fragility of life with the tragedy in Arizona last weekend.

I found out yesterday that a friend's father has taken a turn for the worse after a surgery. Another online friend is battling cancer and thanking God that she woke up today and drew breath, because it didn't look so hot the last few days.

Seriously -- can Death not just take a one-day holiday? Honestly?

Hey, 2010.... don't let the door hit you.....

It is time to say a hearty "SO LONG" to 2010. So many of my friends had a truly horrific 2010, so I think we're all ready to say farewell to it, and look forward in great hope and anticipation to 2011.

Speaking of farewells, this was a year that I saw too many of my dear ones pass. The last of my grandmother's siblings, my great-aunt Clovie, died at the end of March, having made it to 91 years old. She lived a wonderful full life, and so while we were sad, we also looked back with great fondness. In October, I lost Karen, a friend from college, WAY too soon. On the same day of her passing, Uncle Clyde, my aunt's husband of 50+ years, suffered a debilitating stroke, and he passed away about 6 weeks later. Then in late November, Mrs. Stewart, the mom of an old friend, passed very unexpectedly. Her daughter and I have known each other for 25 years now, and Mrs. Stewart was never anything short of warm and welcoming to me, every time I saw her.

There have been just as many stories of people battling all sorts of illnesses. I swore that I have never heard the word cancer as much as I seem to have this past year. And I just found out today that another old friend is battling the disease herself. Dear God, when will this scourge ever end?

My best friend's husband battled his condition all year long, it seemed. Three surgeries, several hospitalizations, and now an additional surgery scheduled in February at the Cleveland Clinic. Another dear friend had foot surgery recently and is still recuperating from that. My friend's daughter who has Dravet Syndrome had a couple of scary episodes - the most recent and scariest one happening just before Christmas.

Then good ol' heart disease, the evil specter that haunts my mother's family, made its presence known in a strange way, reminding us that he lurks in the shadows. In June, Mom became unusually ill, and we found out she had pericardial effusion (a/k/a "fluid around the heart"). The treatment prescribed was ... okay, don't get me started. I begged, pleaded, threatened, bribed, whatever it took to have her go for a second opinion. And in 2 visits, they did more for her than had happened in the weeks prior. A regular stress test became out of the question because her heart was in such poor condition. The chemically-induced test revealed that she'd had a silent heart attack. Her parents died of massive heart attacks. I refuse to stand by and watch that evil specter just take my mother without a fight. If she can't fight him off herself, then by God, she has a daughter who'll gladly take on the SOB and punch him in the nads a time or two.

But it wasn't an all bad year, either. There were little successes and joys along the way. My brother got a job. My friends are adopting a little boy, and they just came home with him right before Christmas. Another friend may be getting her first novel published. My friends Stoney & Jennifer got married, and I got to meet two wonderful families -- so I have a whole new slew of people to love! My goddaughter became a teenager (gasp!) who succumbed sadly to Biebermania (oh child, if you think he's sexy, then an intervention is in order).

And I got a 2nd set of soul-sisters to love. My first set is my d'ranged friends (spelling intentional), and my second set are my Chirp girls. They have both been my lifelines and I could not have gotten through 2010 without them. Period. End of story.

Here's to 2011.... to breathing, to living and moving and having our being, to joy over sadness, to conquering our fears and pains!!

Oh, and I wanna learn to ski this year. Yep. I do.

This was too good not to pass on....

The other day, one of my long-time friends had this as his Facebook status:

"Here's a twist on the traditional Thanksgiving custom of giving thanks for all our blessings -- have we made such a difference in someone else's life that they want to give thanks for us?"

That's not food for thought, that's a whole 24-7 all-you-can-eat buffet.

Whenever the Great Reckoning Day is, whether at my death or in some great final moment for us all, I hope that in this life, there is one person for whom I have made a difference and who will witness to it for me. I truly hope that it is because I gave them a kind word, a gentle nudge, or even a bad action of mine that caused a positive reaction in their life. Or perhaps, they saw something in me that gave them pause and because of that, they did a kindness to someone else.

So this Thanksgiving, I am so glad for these people who have made a huge difference in my life, so much so that I want to give thanks for them:

* My parents and brother -- well, duh, because!!
* For my extended family -- aunts & uncles, cousins, new additions, whomever you are. You have shaped my life even more than I realized. For my cousins especially, I am cherishing the time I get to know you more as adults. Fate made us family; love is making us friends.
* My best friend and her family -- you truly are the sister I never had, and it doesn't seem as if we've only known each other for 23 years; it really feels as if it's been all my life, anyway. You & The Mister have loved me and welcomed me as family. You have trusted me as godmother to your children. We have shared our deepest sorrows and highest joys. And for being strong enough to share your faith with me, I am truly eternally grateful. You took a chance on me as a friend and fellow sojourner. For that, my heart is without words, just tears of gratitude.
* Tal & Sera -- for reaching out to me, a total stranger, not knowing anything other than my name, my website, and a few factoids that I shared. If you didn't know already, when I read that first e-mail from y'all, I sat here crying like a baby (speaking of tears). You didn't know how battered my self-worth was at that point in my life ..... all that mattered was "Hey, this girl sounds like she might be a nice friend." For all the joys you have brought into my life, and the friendships we share, thank you!!
* Dr. E and Debbie C. -- for believing in me when I wasn't sure I believed in myself. You both said I could do it, and so... I did.
* My CRHP sisters -- because you listened to my story, separated the wheat from the chaff, and loved me anyway.
* My "sisters of the pasture" -- you are there for me in ways you probably cannot even begin to fathom. In short, I love you all more than Paula Deen loves butter.
* To a couple of people whom I shall simply call "The G" and "Voldy" .... I even thank you. Even though at the time, you had hurt me in more ways than I thought a person could hurt, it is because of that pain that I am stronger and better. In short, I became everything I didn't know I could be. I can hope that you never intended for things to have been so difficult, but out of that difficulty was born the person I was meant to be anyway. Every birth has pain .... so oddly enough, thank you for being the midwives for the new and improved me.

So this week, count your blessings, and pray that you are blessing and grace to others.

Very strange thing this weekend....

I had gotten an e-mail about becoming part of a lymphedema network registry to stay on top of the latest news, hear opportunities for research, etc. I went to their site, signed up, and am looking forward to hearing more about their work.

The timing was especially strange and yet very timely. For the first time that I can remember since my treatment started, I am having some difficulty. It's not something that's affecting my daily life, but it's something I haven't before experienced. I feel as though I am really retaining fluid, and I especially feel it in my left foot and toes. My left leg is the one that was worse than my right leg, and so is probably a little more sensitive to the changes.

From my viewpoint, it doesn't look as if I'm retaining fluid, at least not to a great degree. But the foot feels tight, the legs feel heavier than usual, and even my fingers and hands feel puffy. Earlier this year, I did have about a week where my hands felt the puffiness worse than any other place, but I'd also not been watching my sodium (and had apparently overindulged). The only thing I can think of is that earlier in the week, my foot had hurt as I was doing some calf lifts. So I attributed the soreness and the aches to that. Now, I don't know........ might it have something to do with the lymphatic system instead?

But rather than focus on the why's, I need to focus on what I can do........ keep exercising, watch my sodium intake, breathe deeply, and move forward.

***

BY THE WAY.......... if you are in Upstate SC, the 2nd meeting of Upstate Monarchs is this Tuesday, November 9 at 5:30 PM at Earth Fare in Greenville (Pelham Road). Upstate Monarchs is a new lymphedema support group, helping us learn to live with lymphedema. If you or someone you know has lymphedema, please come join us!!

I am coming to believe...

that kitchen tools and gadgets are the invention of someone with a lot of stock in Johnson & Johnson. Because apparently, I can't work a simple vegetable peeler without slicing at least one finger open at any given point. My left thumb was the victim last night as I was peeling a butternut squash.

Sure, I could buy the squash already pre-cut. But there is something ..... I don't know what the correct word would be. When I chop and dice and peel and cut and all that myself, I feel even more connected to the whole food prep process. I think, "this is the way that generations of women before me helped prepare food...." and I feel more deeply connected to them. I feel more deeply connected to the growing process -- to the farmers who grew the item and sent it on to the store, or brought it to the farmer's market, and to the food itself. I know it sounds insane, but there's an energy to the whole preparation process, and there is a beauty to the rhythm in chop-chop-chop. To do all this is almost a spiritual exercise. It takes time and effort and expending yourself for something else to come about.

This is why I love cooking, in spite of the nicks, bumps, bruises, and other kitchen mishaps. There is nothing quite as satisfying as the ability to give people nourishment for their bodies and perhaps at the same time for their spirits and souls -- and for yourself as well. Can't buy that at a drive-through!

I had this great post

all worked up about Dwayne Jarrett's 2nd DWI and how I'm tired of entitlements... not just in athletes and celebrities, but in society.

But then, around 9:15 PM, that all changed. I found out that another frat brother of mine has passed away -- also very unexpectedly and WAY too young. She had recently had surgery but seemed to be bouncing back very well. I don't know all the details, but I can tell you that my brain refuses to wrap around the idea of losing another one so soon.

She was only weeks older than me. She'd just turned 41; I will in 19 more days. People our age are not supposed to die. What the flip is going on with my generation? She leaves behind a husband and two teenagers (daughter & son). That's two friends I've had pass away, leaving teens behind. This is wrong, wrong, wrong, on more levels than I can begin to think.

So here's my thought for the night: hug and kiss the ones you love. Tell them how much they mean to you. Tell them you love them and why, if for no other reason than, "I just do." Make the time to do so. If you had only five minutes left, you surely wouldn't spend it blogging or working on a spreadsheet or doing anything else other than telling people how much they meant to you -- so why wait? Do it now.

Karen, we will meet again. Until then, you & Carolyn behave up there. God's got both hands full anyway -- HA!!!

It's the most wonderful time of the year....

Not Christmas. GAK! Deliver me, O Lord ........ no, friends, the most wonderful time of the year is now: Autumn.

Autumn -- the world in all its radiant splendor, with fire-drenched color and crisp weather. The smell of the Northern Hemisphere moving toward dormition. The tastes of crisp fresh apples and hearty squashes, and the warmth of hearth and home. Harvest has come, let us enjoy what we have and be thankful for the year that it took to bring this moment to fruition.

Autumn -- when manly men suit up in tight spandex with bulging pads underneath and crush each other on a field of green over a piece of pigskin (and if that's not a reason to rejoice in this world, then nothing is). These same men will play their games until the chill of winter .... and then move it all to a subtropical locale to play their post-season bowls (college) or championship game (Super Bowl) because, hey football is a moneymaker, and that's what it's all about, right? But I digress...... The love of the game.

Autumn has always been my favorite season: spring makes me sneeze, summer is great but always too hot, winter... meh. But autumn. Maybe it's the introvert in me -- the cook who loves to prepare healthy yet hearty (and heart-felt) meals for those she loves. Or the girl who thinks a true treat is being next to a fire and enjoying the crisp air around her too.

I wait all year for these sweet months of autumn.......

Some random Tuesday thoughts

* I had a busy weekend, preparing for and being part of the team that presented the Christ Renews His Parish women's weekend. What a joy and delight it was! I am tired and yet strangely energized. There's so much I could say and not enough time to write it all down. To the ladies at the Joyful Hearts table, my deepest gratitude for all that you taught me over the weekend. To my sisters on the team, mille grazie isn't enough to thank you for your presence in my life.

* It was so sad to learn last night of Kenny McKinley's passing at age 23. He was a Gamecock who was playing for the Denver Broncos. The police's initial findings are consistent with a self-inflicted gunshot wound. I really hope that it wasn't the case, but if it is, then it's doubly sad. If you ever feel you have no reason to go on, please for God's sake, reach out to someone. Call 1-800-SUICIDE, and you'll reach the Kristin Brooks Hope Center. They can help. And my thoughts and prayers go out to everyone who loved, cared for, and played with or against Kenny McKinley and will miss him so very deeply.

* Do you ever have a "mulling" day? I am so far today.... Not really into talking, just mulling over things in my head. But that's okay.... I'm going to have a "thoughtful Tuesday" instead.

Invisible Illness Week

This is National "Invisible Illnesses" Week -- a way to educate/advocate for all of us who do deal with an illness, just not an obvious or visible one. I actually have two, since I also deal with migraines; however, mine are so minimal by comparison that I would rather let those who deal with them on a daily basis speak on that topic. But this is the 24-7-365 one for me.......

30 THINGS ABOUT MY INVISIBLE ILLNESS YOU MAY NOT KNOW

1. The illness I live with is: Primary Lymphedema (I shall abbreviate as PLE). It is a condition in which the lymphatic system does not circulate properly and swelling can occur at the site of damage. Primary is congenital and most likely hereditary. It can manifest itself in early childhood, after puberty, or after age 35. Secondary lymphedema is caused by some trauma or removal of lymph nodes (example: cancer surgery). In so many women, they develope SLE in the arms or sides because of mastectomy. In my own particular case, it was probably present all along, is definitely hereditary (have a cousin with the same condition, just recently diagnosed as well in her late 60s!), and began to manifest itself sometime between ages 14 and 19. I can't pinpoint an exact time.
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 2008.
3. But I had symptoms since: Who knows? First manifest around 1985-ish?
4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: needing support garments almost 24/7 (not in the shower or pool).
5. Most people assume: that it's more of a cosmetic condition than a medical one.
6. The hardest part about mornings is: needing the extra time to unravel bandages, re-roll, remove additional compression aids, AND put on the compression wear after showering. I've managed to get the compression hose on in about 5 minutes, but when I get a new pair, it's a few extra minutes for that.....
7. My favorite medical TV show is: does "Forensic Files" count?
   
8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: well, nothing that directly affects my condition, but my MP3 player.
9. The hardest part about nights are: summer nights, when I'm wearing tubiform stockings, compression aids, AND 2-3 sets of bandages per leg. SWELTER!!!
10. Each day I take __ pills & vitamins. Okay, about 10 vitamin/supplements, and 1-2 pills each day (not related to lymphedema; no pills for that!)
11. Regarding alternative treatments I: am already utilizing them.... well, I don't consider MLD (manual lymphatic drainage) an alternative treatment, but some physicians do, I'm sure.....
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: I don't know which I would choose. There are times "invisible" is better, but you get so weary of explaining, "yes, I have an illness; no, it's not some quacked-up quasi-illness.... do you want to see information on it, because I can give you more than you'd ever want.
13. Regarding working and career: I still get to work, but I have PT every two weeks, and so I work it as my lunch hour .... and if there's a difference, I make it up by staying late or coming in early.....
14. People would be surprised to know: lymphedema isn't just a "cosmetic" condition but if untreated, it can lead to serious issues.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: this is 24/7/365 for the rest of my life. In my case, it's congenital and so I have to manage it, the same way that anyone with a chronic condition has to manage theirs.
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: nothing. I didn't realize I had this condition until I was 38 and so I just always DID with it anyway.
17. The commercials about my illness: What commercials? Totally not on the commercial radar .... and thank God because there's not a drug out there to be advertised for it.... so none of the "what a wonder drug, here are the 40 million ways it could kill you" ads.
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Going support-hoseless.... I do in the shower, and a couple of times when I have had a migraine develop, I've gone to bed unwrapped or unhosed. And I won't be able to do hot tubs, saunas, steamrooms, etc. again. But otherwise......
19. It was really hard to have to give up: my razor. Yep, I'm not allowed to use a single-blade, double-blade, quatro-blade, or any blade. Electric razors, those are fine. But if I nick the skin and infection sets in, the protein-rich lymphatic fluid is nothing but a breeding haven for bacteria..... :( Le sigh. So I don't get quite that silky smoooooooooooooth closeness. Hmm, wonder if lasering my legs would be okay! And Nair/Neet STINK (literally).
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: hmm.... cooking? Nothing really. It's a condition but not necessarily life-limiting. It's as limiting as I allow it to be. If I don't take care of myself and do the right thing, then yeah, it's limiting.....
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: go hoseless!! :D
22. My illness has taught me: more about the way the human body works. I had so little knowledge (still do, I think) about the body's many, varied, interesting detox/elimination processes.
23. Want to know a secret? One thing people say that gets under my skin is: well, about the condition: nothing. Not that I'm not ready to advocate, but most people don't ask much more than "so what do you have to go to PT for?" You do a short explanation, and it's like, "Oh. Wow. Didn't know there was such a thing...." and that's as far as it gets.
24. BUT I love it when people: ASK QUESTIONS!
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: my thought is that I have this condition, it does not have me.
26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: do not hesitate to learn about the condition, and DO NOT miss an MLD treatment, and FOLLOW THEIR INSTRUCTIONS. Yes, it's a colossal pain in the @$$ to bandage every night or use a pump (if you have fibrotic skin), but it beats bout after bout of cellulitis all to hell. I had ONE bout, extremely mild, no open wound -- and it STILL took 3 weeks of antibiotics to get it under control.
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: well, for me, it was the fact that after 20-ish years of untreated and undiagnosed PLE, my skin had not become fibrotic, or otherwise horridly disfigured. I consider myself TREMENDOUSLY lucky in that respect. Even my physical therapist was VERY surprised. In some ways, it was almost like it had just recently started happening, instead of having 20 years or so of this condition.......
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: Just listening to me.
29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: I believe in advocating and educating. The more you know......
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: happy -- and that I have made a little difference in helping people learn and understand

Do you have an "invisible illness"???? Click http://invisibleillnessweek.com/ to learn about Invisible Illness Week, and consider participating in "the note" project!

It Is Now Official....

As of today, September 9, 2010, I am an "Old Fart" (R) : I ordered my first set of bifocals.

I've worn glasses or contacts since I was 15. Twenty-six years of wearing single-vision lenses has been good to me. But it's only been in the last few weeks that I've noticed that I don't need to sit quite as closely to the TV, computer screen.... or to have the hymnal or choir pieces quite so close either.

Welcome to your 40s, kiddo!!!

Slipping the surly bonds of earth....

For the first time in a while, I had to fly on business. Most of the time, I don't travel for work, or at least no travel beyond driving distance. After one particular leg of this flight, I was swearing the same thing: "If I can't drive there, I won't be there."

Chicago beckoned, so onto the big bird I went. Every song about flying or traveling was going through my head -- by the time we landed in Chicago, I was humming Arlo Guthrie's "Coming into Los Angeles" (wasn't about to sing the words, heck no!). G-vegas to the ATL was a piece of cake: 30 minute flight. ATL to O'Hare ... it was all good until the final descent/landing. I mean, at one point in the flight, I was thinking, "You know, I ought to ask the attendants about their careers. I mean, if something ever happened, it would be really cool to do this." By the time I was leaving the plane, I felt like saying, "You're a braver soul than I, Gunga Din!"

I don't know what happened: the descent angle, the time of day, the stress and trying to find my travel party (coming in from various airports)... but I got sick. UGH!!!!! I made it into the terminal, called the lead in our party and got on the bus to the rental car facility where we were to meet. Turns out, I landed at Terminal 2, they were at Terminal 3 and ended up on the bus at the same time. We got going but between O'Hare and our hotel, she had to pull over for me.

How embarrassing. Here I am, a grown woman, with a nice job, terrific friends and family, and a good life (on the whole), and I'm frickin' crippled by motion sickness and migraines (yeah, I think one of those might have been beginning to build as well). I know it's not anything I can control, necessarily, but I mean really. So I missed dinner that night while nursing my aching head, neck, shoulders, and stomach.

However, I must say that I got to nurse myself in grand style!!! Highly recommended: Hilton Garden Inn's beds. Yes, you can buy them online, too. However, no way am I going to spend that much on myself right now. But lush and lux they are: oh my! I think I sank into the bed and barely moved. Divine, just plain divine.

The next morning, we took a tour of a sister company, and one of their specialty labs that does work across the company. It was truly amazing to see everything they do and how it's put to use in the real world. After the tour, it was on to the Corporate offices, and into 2 days of meetings (well, one afternoon, one morning, and then a short meeting for our team). But on the drive up, I couldn't help but chuckle. I saw a turnoff for Harvey, IL -- and I wanted to go soooo badly, just to see the shell of the Dixie Square Mall. One day, my plan is to get back to Chicago and make a tour of all the locations from The Blues Brothers. But I digress.

For dinner that night, we went to The Glen Town Center -- it's a shopping/living/dining area (apartments/condos over the stores or restaurants). It's kind of like downtown Greenville combined with Shoppes at Greenridge. Pretty neat idea, I must admit. Dinner was at The Yardhouse -- I had a salad and the spicy tuna roll, which was not sushi-like at all. To be fair, the waitress did tell me that it wasn't a typical sushi roll. However, may I suggest that they call it a tuna cake instead? Because that's pretty much what it was. Tasty, to be certain: tuna over the spicy sauce over an edamame layer. I could only eat about half; it was good, but the salad filled me up, as well as our non-cocktail hour offerings.

After our team meeting on Tuesday, my local counterpart and I had to head back to the airport. Our Group HR Director called a ride for us from a company with whom they have an agreement. The limo driver showed earlier than we expected (or told them to arrive) and at the loading dock ... oops! But he got us to the airport in plenty of time.

One small complaint to the fine people of O'Hare International: for all the air traffic you encounter, you might want to talk to the TSA about a grant for more security stations! The security lines were way longer than necessary, and when I finally got to my gate, they were boarding already! I wasn't late-late, but surely later than I like to be. It would have been nice to have time to grab dinner from somewhere, even if it was "Sammies 2 Go" or something. Thank goodness I had a few minutes to spare at Hartsfield. By the way, a huge tip-of-the-cap to the pilots for the ORD-ATL leg on a fabulous job for both takeoff and landing (hardly even noticed them!).

So what's next on the agenda? Putting all these timetables from the meetings into action this week!! :)

Doing it right....

One of the things we discussed a few weeks ago in our Weight Watchers meeting was never counting the things we do right, but harping on and beating ourselves up over the ONE thing (or two) that we did wrong. I'm as guilty as anyone -- trust me on that!

Over the last few weeks, I have had this odd sense ... the feeling that I can't do anything right some days. We all have moments like that, or even a couple of days gone haywire that do that to us, but the recurring feeling is not me. I don't know why, and I surely don't like the sensation. So I am making an extra effort to focus on the good things I do, in all aspects of my life......

So here's my list of recent successes:
* I take healthy foods for my meals and snacks.
* I work out and was very proud of what I did this weekend.
* I have really prayed for people and their needs, and know that they are doing the same for me.
* I have worked to reconnect with those who mean a lot to me.
* I have advocated for my mother's health, and feel as if we're back on track to getting the answers we need.

I'm especially proud of the last one: Mother is as stubborn as her daughter, and if I'd had to take her bound and gagged, kicking and screaming, I would have. Worth every bit of effort to get her there. And now we have a path to go on. I don't know all the answers, but we're getting there.

I have an alter ego

Her name is Suzy Homemaker.

Suzy is a fiend in the kitchen. When Suzy takes over, watch out world. So what did Suzy come up with over the last few days?

1. Two appetizers for a Weight Watchers meeting, straight out of two of their cookbooks. The first is a granola-bar-like cookie. The other is a tartlet (phyllo shells) filled with caramelized onion, chopped Canadian bacon and some shredded reduced-fat Swiss. I thought for sure that at an early morning meeting more people would enjoy the cookie-ish dish. Flat wrong: I made 36 bars (um, Suzy made them, sorry!), and brought home about 24 or so. I made 40 tartlets and brought home... 10 or 12? Either way, they were good!

2. A coffee-braised beef roast with caramelized onions .... one word: a prolonged mmmmmmmm. Can't wait to take some into work tomorrow for lunch. Slurp.

3. My .... er, Suzy's .... famous mustard-chicken barbeque (pulled chicken). Remember, it is the South and barbecue is a NOUN, not a verb!!! "We're having a barbecue" in about 40 states translates down here to "We're cooking out/grilling (out)." This is done in the slow cooker with 3 ingredients. Suzy & I (ha ha) put 4 cups of the mix in the freezer for future use, as well as a cup & a half in the fridge for use this week. Mmmmm.

Suzy is about to work her magic on some ground chicken breast to create some burgers. Gotta think how I want them.... one patty each with different seasonings, or four just alike? I mean, one as teriyaki or another as chipotle lime and yet another with wasabi..... gotta think on this.

I am still alive and around....

Just been really busy and stressed and trying to be the duck.... you know, calm on the surface and paddling like hell underneath.

July has been strange, in many ways. Mom's health is still up-and-down, and my own health concerns have taken a backseat. My best friend's husband has been in the hospital most of the month so far, with difficulties from a recent surgery cropping up again. Work has been busy but at least not crazy-insanely so.

I can't think of much else to say right now. But I will write more after my day trip tomorrow to Alabama.

SO proud of them!

Congratulations to the University of South Carolina baseball team for winning the NCAA College World Series. I am not a USC alumna, but I love Gamecock sports. And I SOOOOOO enjoyed watching them claw their way to this championship.

They will forever be the champs, as well as the last team to win the CWS at Rosenblatt Stadium.

WONDERFUL job, Coach Tanner! FANTASTIC work, players! You make us all thrilled!

Best question I've heard in ages

So I was sitting in church this morning, conversing with a soprano in our choir, and we were talking about voting on Tuesday. I mentioned that I normally LOVE the campaign season but this particular one has done nothing but disgust me. Jane said, "Oh good, so answer this for me...... if everyone is such a conservative, exactly WHAT are we conserving?"

I had a brief moment of silence, and the cynic in me replied before I could shut myself up: "Conserving the idea that what's mine is mine, screw you."

But I'm right.

For all the talk of family values and moral fiber........ REALLY? When did selfishness and greed and isolationism and ignorance and "go back to your own kind" become a good thing? For all their talk of being good Christian people, and their photo ops outside of churches and their stories of how their deep faith and strong family saw them through..... no one has the testicular/ovarian fortitude to say, "None of what we stand for politically has any connection to the values I nod my head in assent to on Sundays." These things are NOT Gospel values, and I for one would love to see the candidates stop talking about how their values are good for SC. Values like that are not good for my state, or its people.

I'm all for bringing business to our state. God knows, we need it, but we're whoring ourselves out in tax breaks to get them here. And in doing so, we're mortgaging our public educational system (which God knows needs all the money it can get), and a million other projects that all need tax money to survive. "Uh Chief? Sorry, we're $18 million short on revenue, but hey we created 180 jobs!" Sure. 180 minimum-wage jobs or part-time jobs, or a combination of the two. We might as well just set up a jar on the nightstand and put a shingle on the statehouse steps advertising our going rates.

I'm all for reforming the immigration system, but I'm definitely NOT in favor of the "you ain't from around here, are ya boy?" attitude that is way too pervasive (and not just in my home state). It is a serious issue that needs to be addressed. No one is going to be entirely happy with whatever consensus and compromise is reached but ignoring it hasn't worked either.

So again...... just what are we conserving?

***

Speaking of conservative politicians, I don't agree with her politically, but I will say that I like the way Nikki Haley has handled the accusations and allegations slung her way. And you will never convince me that the Good Ol' Boy system here in good ol' South Cack isn't behind it because they're threatened by her: a strong woman, from a different cultural background, who wasn't brought up on a Protestant church bench from infancy up. And SHE of all people has actually had a very good response -- basically saying, "None of it's true, and I'm ignoring it and moving on." When South Carolina's latest embarrassing politician opened his idiot mouth (yeah, Jake Knotts, I mean you), and then said, "What's wrong, she can't take a joke?" he sounded more like a playground bully .... threatened by a girl who could kick his butt in short order and move on to the next one. Like I said, she and I will never see eye-to-eye on the issues, but I give her full props for not giving him the time of day ... almost could see her rolling her eyes and saying, "Well, one more idiot down, thousands of others to go."

For Memorial Day

This song just flat gets me, every single time. I cannot help but mist up listening to the lyrics and thinking of all those who make the ultimate sacrifice for my freedoms.

"No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends." -- John 15:13

Funny things happened last night

I am slack. I know. You don't need to remind me of that! So what's going on in my world? Work, as always; hey, gotta pay the bills! WW training and work and meetings and sharing my story. Church meetings and workshops and events galore. Starting personal training and trying to get my body back on track.

Last night I had to stop by Wally on the way home. I had a coupon for a great snack and the only place I've found it is a Supercenter. I stopped at the one nearest work, got out my insulated bag and a couple of other bags for my goodies, and got to the checkout line. The girl was putting everything she could in the insulated bag, and then had just a couple of items for the other. I was glad that it only took 2 of the 3 bags I brought in -- and she looked at me and said, "That makes you happy?" (like, "Good Lord, girl, what kind of happy pills are YOU on?")

Well, yeah. It's a Friday night, I got mostly everything I needed to get me through the next week for food, and I remembered to bring my bags with me to the store (something I'm trying to get better about doing). It might not have been winning the lottery, but it was a good feeling. So YEAH, I was happy.

Then later on last night, I wore out my blender......... and sadly, not due to mixing margaritas. I wore it out with smoothies. Yes, please laugh about it because I have! Ol' Faithful could mix the liquids just fine, but when I put ice or solids into the blender, not so much anymore. I bought a much nicer replacement today, and it's got an "ice crusher" mode! WAHOO!!!! Even better? Bought it on closeout, saw it in another store later on today at TWICE the price I paid for it! SCHUH-WEEEEEEEEEEET!

Long time no blog....

At least not here. I have a couple of others (as you can see to the left), but lately, I've been woefully neglectful of all of them -- especially my original baby here.

April has been interesting and eventful. Easter came and went and it was just beautiful! I went on retreat with some ladies from church, and it was fantastic. It didn't last long enough, but does it ever? I joke about being a conspiracy theorist (not really, but....); however, I almost would have sworn some cosmic conspiracy was going on. After such a wonderful weekend, this past week has had more stress than you'd believe: car trouble (and being dependent on others for transportation for 2 days) ....... a family member's possible diagnosis of (ahem) "immaculate degeneration" -- to which I thought, "gee, how many family members have had this, and you're surprised you're next?" And, I just purely love the malapropism: immaculate degeneration is far more interesting than macular degeneration, whether age-related, hereditary or a little of both.... (SNORT!)

But you know -- life is good. Life is so good. I'm loved, I love others, I have a job, I have a vision, and while I can whine about minor annoyances, I truly have nothing to complain about! And that, my friends, is worth celebrating!!!!

Joy-driving: road-geekery of another kind!

Back when gas was a beautiful, lovely, blissful memory at $1.50 or less per gallon, I enjoyed nothing more on a Sunday afternoon than to get in my car and just go. I'd take the roads either previously untraveled, or partially traveled, and just follow them out as long as I could with the time I had, or until I found a road that I knew connected somewhere.......

Today, I was scheduled for a hair appointment about an hour from the house. The hairdresser is an old high school friend, and I am in need of some highlights, so I thought I'd give someone I knew a little of my business. We got some mixed signals, and she had a family emergency anyway, so we're going to reschedule. But in the meantime, it was a great opportunity to just go "joy-driving"!

What is "joy-driving" you may ask? It's when you hop in the car with nowhere in particular to be, go, do, no set time frame to complete anything in........ basically, just finding joy in being and seeing. So from the town where I was supposed to go, I ended up taking the road by my grandparents' graves (and had I not had a more "pressing concern" I'd have stopped for a while). I went into the next little town over, which I rarely visit, but it was nice to go there. I could have traveled four or five different ways to get home at that point, but I stuck to the main road. Once I got back to the next largest town in that area, I decided to go home yet another way that I rarely travel...... well, that, and I also had a bright idea to look for a bakery outlet store. I have become quite enamored of the new sandwich thins, and thought it'd be a great way to pick some up for a good price. I found a store, picked up the bread, and then stopped for lunch. (For thoughts on lunch, see my Weighty Matters blog).

From lunch, I turned onto a road I'd been meaning to travel for quite some time. Amazingly enough, it took me not far from where I would have come out anyway, had I stuck just to the main road..... actually, it carved off a good bit of it. And now, I have another connecting road, if I ever find myself out joy-driving, and can't figure where I am........

Such a gorgeous day and a lot of fun!!!

Happy Easter everyone!!!

For many years, I was part of an e-mail list for people involved in initiation ministry ... and now and again, one of the list members would occasionally say, "I often wonder just what we are initiating them into." This was usually said when HMC would do something just unexplainable or dumb or head-shaking. And I admit, I still think that on occasion ..... and especially after this week in the church.

Last night, I attended the Easter Vigil and every year, it never fails to move me. I do still occasionally ponder T's question: "Just what are we initiating them into?" And my answer would be: a flawed body that needs your brokenness to help make it whole. Broken as we are, we're still the ones responsible for carrying out Christ's work in the world. Insane as the institution can be, it is still the people who make the Church.

There's a great song by Michael Card that I had forgotten about until I played it on Good Friday. As many times as I've listened to the song, it was like rediscovering a great truth when I heard it again.......

The marks of death that God chose never to erase
The wounds of love's eternal marks
When the kingdom comes with its perfected sons
He will be known by the scars

It is because of the scars that we will be perfected. The love that caused the scars is what we celebrate in the Triduum. You cannot separate Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. It is one event, so interwoven that you cannot place more importance to any segment over the others. Similar to Easter and Christmas. Without Christmas, there is no Easter .... but without Easter, why would you even need to celebrate Christmas?

Jesus Christ our light is risen; sound the trumpet of salvation! Surrexit Christus, alleluia; cantate Domino, alleluia!

He is risen: he is risen indeed!