Absence

My mother isn’t well.

I know she will be okay. My sisters and I have been and will be spending every moment we can with her. Her hospital stay will supposedly be a brief one. While the doctors attempt to get her immediate physical issues under control, we will begin dealing with matters as to her future care and living arrangements. This is going to be a long process and quite a battle. She is one feisty lady.

Word of advice: If at all possible (and it usually isn’t) stay away from hospitals if you can. We spent yesterday in the various ER areas of a hospital full of sick people wearing masks due to possible H1N1. My mother was finally admitted after eight hours but was still in the ER when we left due to a lack of available beds. (And, no, she does not have H1N1.)

Doctor's Orders

Just got back from a follow-up doctor’s appointment re: the stress fracture in my left foot. Turns out the RX dispensed today consisted of reassurance and shared smiles as to my impatience and frustration with the healing process.

Me: “It’s been 11 weeks now and you said on average these fractures heal in 6 weeks!”

She: “Average being the key word. We’re obviously not dealing with your average person.”

First of the shared smiles.

Me: “What am I supposed to do to make it better?”

She: “Nothing – it will heal on its own.”

Me: "Well, crap (yes, I say crap in front of my doctor) this is so frustrating!”

(And it truly is – I am a doer and a fixer when it comes to life’s trials and tribulations.)

She: “Here’s something you can do – cultivate some patience.”

The second of the shared smiles. Patience is not my forté and we both know it. In fact, I have a fridge magnet that reads: “LORD, GRANT ME PATIENCE AND I WANT IT NOW!”

Me: “What if – "

She: (cutting me off because she knows what’s coming next…) “If it’s not better in another month, come back.”

Me: “A cast?”

She: “Possibly.”

Me: “A removable one? Or one that can be submerged in water?”

(I need my hydrotherapy classes – this gimpy foot is doing a real number on my back.)

She: “We’ll see what we can do.”

A final sharing of smiles as I head out the door.

I love my doctor. I’d love her even more if she could write out a prescription for patience.

Of Breast and Blogs

This month I had my annual mammogram – the old flatten them into pancakes routine.

(Ladies – remember your monthly BSE and to book that mammogram appointment. And check out this link re: the benefits of taking Vitamin D.)

New machines had been installed and rather than x-ray films, the results now appear on a computer screen.

Upon hearing this bit of news, my ears (yes, my ears – nothing else) perked up.

I turned to the technician (and in doing so, slightly disturbed her perfect placement of one of my bosom buddies) and asked, “Hey, could you email me the images so I can post them on my blog?”

We both laughed.

I was just kidding. Sort of. The images were fascinating.

Have I no shame? Are there no limits to what I will consider using as blog fodder?

(I actually do have limits. The above (amazing) digital images are not of my breasts.)

Needles on a Haystack

I recently had my first experience with acupuncture. Once past my initial fear and horror of needles puncturing vital organs (I was so off base about that) I enjoyed it. And, more importantly, it helped – there was a noticeable reduction in pain.

Feeling very calm and Zen-like after the procedure, I walked to my car in a heavy downpour of rain. No matter – it was all good. Nature in all its wonder and glory. OOOMMM.

Started the car and turned on the windshield wipers. Fwap! Zing! Plunk! The damn passenger wiper snapped off, sailed into the air and landed on the hood of the car.

After my initial shock and surprise? Pissed off, I muttered the following words aloud:

“Shit, now my *Chi is all f**ked up again!”

Yes, I am sorry to say I really did utter such profanity. My Chi and my spiritual serenity had been disturbed both by this unexpected event and by my own foul mouth.

(*Chi is the vital energy that circulates throughout various channels in our bodies. Acupuncture helps keep this energy balanced in order to restore and/or maintain good health. And this brief summary of mine is probably not correct.)

Got out of the car, back into the pouring rain (not so thrilled with the downpour this time), retrieved the offending wayward object and tossed it in the back seat.

I regained my spiritual composure and sense of well-being (to a certain extent) with the positive and consoling thought that at least the driver’s wiper hadn’t taken a hike. I could still see to drive.

I have new wipers.

I must to do something about my potty mouth.

I need a mantra.

(Perhaps) For Women Only

Front page blurb in yesterday’s Globe and Mail:


Breast Size and Diabetes

“A new Canadian study suggests women with a bra size of D or larger are five times more likely to develop diabetes than women with an A cup.”

Serious subject matter and I read the entire article. However, I confess I was prompted to do so because upon reading the blurb, my first thought was purely one of self interest. “Where do I fit (literally) into the study as a size B?”

(I have no problem admitting my bra size. What the hell does it matter? If I was a double or triple D, perhaps I would be a tad more circumspect – although I’m not sure why.)

And the article did address the B cup issue.

“Women with B and C cup sizes - the most common - saw their risk increase concomitant to cup size.”

Okay, so I’m in the most common category but I caught a bit of a break for being there.

I also learned another interesting fact – how bra cup size is measured.

“Bra cup size is traditionally determined by measuring the horizontal chest circumference just under the breasts, adding five inches and subtracting the total from the circumference at the fullest part of the breasts. A net difference of one inch is equivalent to an A cup, and four inches is a D cup. Cup size also provides a reasonable approximation of breast volume and hence amount of fat.”

I had to read that three times before figuring out exactly what to do. And I don’t plan on doing it. I am not a fan of measuring tapes touching my body nor of math. It also seems like a lot of work.

I’m just going to go with what fits and trust the lingerie department’s sizing.

And be very grateful to even have my “B” buddies. Many women no longer do.

Ladies, do check out the article – both for yourselves and for your daughters.

The Abstinence Teacher - Tom Perrotta

“Pleasure is Good, Shame is Bad and Knowledge is Power.”

This is the credo of Ruth Ramsey, the high school Sex Ed teacher for the town of Stonewood Heights and one of the protagonists in Perrotta's The Abstinence Teacher.

Underestimating the recent surge in popularity and influence of a small evangelical church, Ruth makes the mistake of telling her students, “Well, from what I hear about oral sex, some people enjoy it.”

With those fateful words, Ruth (a divorced mother of two) becomes the perfect target for the fundamentalist forces of the right. A crusade is underway to cleanse the town of “…all manner of godlessness and moral decay” and Ruth stepped right in its path. She is now forced to teach the revamped Sex Ed curriculum which promotes abstinence.

On the other side of the spectrum is Tim Mason – also a divorced parent and a member of that evangelical church. Tim is “…a former stoner and rocker whose response to hitting rock bottom was to reach out and be saved.”

The fundamentalist right clashes with the liberal left. Depending upon your point of view, you may have issues with these characters’ beliefs and actions but Perrotta presents them both as sympathetic and believable. Each is struggling with children, ex-spouses, loneliness and a desire to connect.

Ultimately, the two discover they have far more in common than not. Hearts and humanity trump religious and political leanings.

Sounds like an easy read? A bit like a soap opera? Only deceptively so. The setting is your typical suburban neighbourhood but Perrotta takes the story beyond that setting as he raises questions and tackles important issues – all without preaching. He forces you to think, to see the issues from both sides. A good read.

My point of view? I wonder how supposed experts can preach abstinence as a fool-proof method of birth control. Back-up is a must. A naïve belief that your child need only be taught that abstinence is the best and only path to take is no match for the message our kids receive from the media, raging hormones and peer pressure.



UPDATE:

I do not have pneumonia or pleurisy. I have bronchitis. Thanks to our speedy health care system, I find this out 5 days after the chest x-ray was done. And the requisition form for the x-ray had STAT written on it as to results.
I’m not sure why I find this to be good news. I still feel crummy. Maybe it’s the heavy–duty drugs? And don’t you cough with bronchitis? I’m not.
I am so looking forward to feeling “normal” again. (Or what passes for normal in my world.)

Beth Emerges From Hibernation...

Diagnosis:
Pneumonia or Pleurisy (Waiting for chest x-ray results.)

My Preference:
Hoping like hell it’s pneumonia because that’s treatable with antibiotics. If it’s pleurisy, treatment consists of healthy living which, apparently, I’m having trouble achieving lately. (I’m working on it…)

Seasonal Plans:
To throw a Festive Christmas (PITY) Party!!
The guests will bring LOTS OF FOOD (so I don’t have to cook for a month) and LOTS OF GIFTS (so I can re-gift and forget about Christmas shopping).

Blogging Plans:
Probably somewhat erratic until the pain subsides. Having to scrunch over to the right wreaks havoc with my already crappy typing skills.

Word to the Wise:
If you are in good health right now, consider that the best Christmas gift ever and the only one you truly need.


Many thanks for all the kind, supportive comments left on my last post.


And God bless each one of my children for taking care of their Mom.

Catching Up

Thanks for all the wonderful, supportive comments while that respiratory flu temporarily took over my body. And my life.

Wow. Did it ever hit like a ton of bricks. It was brutal - but not as brutal as the one that downed me years ago before I started having flu shots.

This recent experience (along with some of your comments) has me wondering about flu shots. Apparently coming down with this ailment a week or so after getting that needle in the arm is a common occurrence.

Dilemma for next year. No flu shot and risk catching a whopper or get stabbed and risk a mini-version?

To mangle some famous Scarlett O’Hara lines: “Oh, fiddle-dee-dee…I’ll think about it tomorrow...”



An aside for hockey fans – my flip-flop 7th place Toronto Maple Leafs beat the 1st place Ottawa Senators 3 – zip Saturday night.
Still smiling and shaking my head. What the hell? What’s with you guys?
And take note, Cip. I’m not gloating. I’m still in shock.
My thanks to Psychgrad for leaving this comment on Saturday, “And good luck to the Leafs tonight… cough…cough…”
I think it helped. Do it again!



Please bear with me. I’m hoping to check in with everybody but I’m not 100% recovered. (90%?) And then there are all those mundane chores left undone these past few days. The boys have been a great help but let’s face it. They don’t possess my x-ray vision and unrealistic standards. Nor have my nagging (request) skills been up to scratch lately.

Poundage

If you’re struggling to lose a bit of weight, don’t get pissed off at me for the subject matter of this post.

For the first time in many, many years (too many to mention) I am trying to put on weight and having difficulty doing so.

I have a newfound empathy for those suffering from anorexia and other eating disorders. While I certainly don’t have issues with my body image (i.e. I see what’s “real” when looking in the mirror – boy, do I ever) I now realize that for someone to offer the profound advice – “Just eat!” is absolutely useless. Not to mention totally missing the point.

If “just eating” was so simple, I would do it. It’s not so easy.

I used to look at pictures of Nicole Ritchie and the like (yes, I have previously admitted to reading junk magazines) and think, “Hey, have a sandwich, some fries, a milkshake…”

People with low weight problems know what the solution is but accomplishing this is by no means an easy feat.

If you’ve lost weight and your stomach has shrunk for whatever reasons (in my case, surgery and other ongoing issues) scarfing a down hearty meal just ain’t gonna happen.

Don’t be alarmed. In my case, I’m only talking 10 lbs. And my doctor said putting on just 5 of those 10 lbs. would be sufficient to get me back in fighting form. (So to speak.)

I’m doing this my own way. I eat when I’m hungry. Doesn’t matter if it’s not meal time. If the stomach rumbles – it’s fed. And I’m eating “right.” (Okay, there’s some junk food going down too but, hey, when will such an opportunity come again?)

It’s a slow process with a few setbacks but I’m doing it….

To the people who see me and say, “Wow, you’ve lost weight – you’re looking good!” – this does not help me in my mission. Fortunately, I possess the smarts to know better. I’m not about to be swayed by the thought that “less” looks good. I know what feels right for my body. I know what weight gives me the necessary energy and stamina to put in a good day.

I hate clothes shopping. Yesterday I had to. I need some clothes that fit. What was particularly depressing about this outing and the (few) purchases I made is knowing that in a matter of months (gut willing) these new clothes will no longer fit. (And, no, I did not buy a bikini…)

Who once said, “You can never be too rich or too thin?”

Rich would be nice (within limits) but, yeah, you can be too thin.

Busy Times...

After my emotional roller coaster of a weekend, I have a busy few days (two weeks?) coming up. I’m taking an on-line writing course that begins today. I checked the site last night and some keeners have already handed in the first assignment. Yikes. Falling behind already.

I’m taking this course for inspiration, discipline and, yes, because I am guilty of producing split infinitives, misusing the comma and ending a sentence with a preposition.

And if you happen to note these flaws on my blog, don’t bother pointing them out to me. I like to think of blogging as a kind of free flowing verse — I don’t want to have to think that hard about grammar rules while writing here.

Of course, I could use my blog as a means of practicing/training for my other writing…..nah.

Other exciting plans? My physiotherapist asked for my assistance this week in demonstrating her hydrotherapy class (which I attend regularly).

I’m a sucker for this kind of request. I’ve said yes to two other medical studies (nothing wrong with me, I’m just asked to check in every once in a while.) My participation is not completely due to altruism. I figure if anything does go wrong with me medically, I have an “in” with some specialists. (With the dearth of doctors in Canada and the horrendous waiting times for procedures, this can’t hurt.)

Back to my physiotherapist’s request. A new crop of physiotherapists-in-training require “models.” I like that word. My PT used it when asking that I volunteer. Bottom line, I’m a guinea pig. I’ll be good at this. I’m not shy in these kind of situations, I’ll willingly answer all their questions and I will perform in the pool. (Think “Flipper.”) However, I really don’t want strangers touching me. Nor do I relish the thought of them observing me too carefully. I’m in a bathing suit!

Which reminds me. Damn. I have to shave my legs for tomorrow morning’s performance.

(As I said, I have a busy day ahead…)

Good (Medical) News

Today’s Globe and Mail reports that, “increasing daily intake of vitamin D could prevent the development of breast cancer by as much as half and that of colorectal cancer by nearly two-thirds.”

Hurray! Finally, something that I am already taking. I don’t have to ponder the pros and cons of adding it to my “drug” stash or rush out to some health food store to find some rare, trendy nutritional supplement.

Canada’s new (as of Monday) Food Guide recommends only 400 IU daily.

These researchers recommend 2,000 IU daily in addition to spending between 10 and 15 minutes in the sun every day — “weather permitting.”

“Weather permitting” is a key phrase here. When I brave the cold in this northern climate, I do so bundled up. What little sunshine there is can’t permeate my layers of winter attire.

Check this link for further details. (And it’s a honkin’ long link. Hope I typed it correctly.)

(Admonition — always check with your doctor before adding any kind of supplement to your diet.)